The Matchmaker's Replacement - Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,62

naked, writhing beneath him like—

“None of those faces are allowed in the inner sanctum,” he teased, his eyes dark. “Come here.”

I didn’t move.

“Fine.” He peeled off his shirt, exposing me to so much masculine beauty that I had a hard time catching my breath. He stood, slowly unzipping his pants, before dropping them to the floor and kicking them away. “Vulnerability meets vulnerability, right?”

I nodded dumbly as he dipped his thumbs into his boxers and then removed them too.

My eyes stayed glued to the space in front of me, the space he occupied, as he very boldly and nakedly stood in front of me, muscles taut.

“You can say it: my stripper skills suck.”

“Right,” I croaked. “Because that’s where my mind was going.”

“Gabs . . .” He held out his hand, palm up. “We can take things slow.”

“No.” I shook my head vigorously. “No.” Oh, no. I was going to do it. I was going to cry. No, no, no, no.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Lex pulled me into his lap. Now both of us were naked, and I was feeling way too many things—everywhere. Not to mention the panic that was rising in my chest that he’d walk away, that I wouldn’t be good enough, that he’d laugh at my inexperience.

This would change everything.

Now if he made a sexual comment about me, it would wreck me, because he would know the truth.

“Promise me something,” I whispered.

“Okay, Sunshine,” he said gently, pulling me further onto his lap. “What kind of promise do you need? And is this one of those blood oath things? Will there always be blood?”

I smiled. “Be serious.”

“Oh.” He nodded and started moving beneath me, the slight pressure causing me to lose my train of thought. “What’s this promise you need?”

“This stays here,” I blurted. “Whatever this is, it stays here. It’s a no-play zone, okay? When we walk out that door and still feel the need to yell and push and throw knives—”

“You have knives?” he repeated, incredulous.

I frowned. “Well, downstairs in the kitchen. We’re getting off topic. This, between us, we can’t use it against each other. No ammo. Keep the inner sanctum . . .”

“Sacred,” he finished.

I relaxed against his chest without even realizing what was happening. I was in his arms, naked, sharing a moment of complete and total vulnerability as if it was normal, and Lex was responding like a human being.

“Agreed.” He kissed my neck. “And I promise.”

My groan of approval must have been encouraging enough for him to keep going as he moved his hand between our bodies. “Shh, don’t panic.”

“Panicking,” I said dumbly.

“Relax.” His mouth was hot against my ear. “This is natural. Normal . . . You’ll like it.”

“Are we sure? Maybe I won’t, and then I’ll disappoint you and get fired!”

Lex burst out laughing. “This isn’t part of the test, Gabs. You won’t fail.”

I whimpered in embarrassment. “How would you know?”

“Because you’re Gabi,” he said simply. “You succeeded the minute you walked into my life and threw me on my ass. Failure isn’t really an option where you’re concerned. Besides”—he rocked against me—“does it feel like you’re failing?”

“No.” I pulled back to gaze into his eyes. “It feels like you . . . may have a thing for me.”

“Big thing.”

“Eh, small thing.”

“Huge.” He nodded.

“I don’t know if I would exaggerate that much, but sure, to each his own,” I teased.

“That’s it.” I was midair, and then he threw me back against the mattress and hovered over me. His head descended, and then all I knew were his kisses.

His touch.

His gentle whispers.

His breath as his air became mine.

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

Lex

Pride cometh before the fall.

I’d always prided myself on being able to catalogue every type of woman into tiny little boxes with neat little labels.

Gabi had no box.

No label.

And whenever I tried to shove her where I thought she needed to be, she rebelled and came barreling back toward me.

I realized.

Sex would be the exact same way.

I couldn’t be the usual Lex I’d always been in bed, because she was different—our situation was different.

And I needed to label it differently. As unromantic as that sounds, to me it was pure romance, because for a guy who thought in code—a guy who had a label, a place for everything in his life?

She.

Didn’t.

Fit.

“Just tell me if it’s too fast,” I whispered against her swollen lips. “Tell me if it hurts, scream when it feels good. And I’m not against you just saying my name over”—I kissed the right corner of her