“I can’t believe you had time to make this,” he said, eying the food.
“Well, can I tell you a secret? I just made the pasta. The roasted chicken is store-bought,” she admitted.
He chuckled, and the sound made her close her legs. Gunner’s sexy laugh always did strange things to her.
“Let’s eat,” he suggested.
Paige nodded. Watching Gunner dig heartily into his food made her smile. Richard always told Paige her cooking was unacceptable. Seeing another man appreciate her food made her happy.
Chapter Four
Gunner didn’t fail to notice the small smile that tugged at the corner of Paige’s lips as they ate. Seeing her in just a towel nearly made him want to skip dinner entirely, but he was glad he managed to hold off.
While Gunner took seconds, he noticed Paige hadn’t touched much of her food. “Not hungry?”
She shook her head. “Just a little nervous about tonight.”
“Paige,” he said, reaching for her hand across the small dining table. “I’m not a beast. I won’t force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“I know. I asked you to wait and you did, but I invited you here tonight to let you know I want something more than friendship.”
“Those words are exactly what I wanted to hear.” Gunner stood up and positioned himself behind her chair. He thumbed her smooth cheek, then leaned down to kiss her, quick and good. She panted when he pulled away to bring the dishes to the sink.
“Wait, I can take care of the dishes.”
“No, you already did the cooking. I’ll take care of the rest,” Gunner told her firmly.
“My dishwasher’s broken,” she said. “You wash, I’ll dry?”
“Perfect,” he said. They stood side-by-side, saying nothing. “Dinner was lovely. Let me cook for you next time?”
“In the MC clubhouse?” she warily asked him.
“Actually, I have an apartment of my own. Bought the place a few years ago, when I realized I wanted my own space away from the MC.”
“Well then. I’m looking forward to tasting your cooking,” Paige said, drying the last plate and placing it on the washcloth she’d laid over the countertop.
The moment she set the plate down, Gunner caged her against the counter. She gazed up at him, no hint of fear in her eyes. His gaze dipped from her face to her upthrust breasts. Should he tell her that he could see her nipples under the thin fabric of her dress?
“Kiss me again?” she whispered, a hidden plea in her voice.
“Glad to.” Gunner cupped her cheek andleaned in close to kiss her deep and true.
She gripped his shoulders, responding to his kiss with equal passion. He edged them both away from the kitchen and toward Paige’s designated bedroom.
They didn’t get far. Paige’s back hit the wall next to the bed. He slanted his mouth over hers, tasting blueberries from the pie she’d served with the pasta and chicken. She gave him a little push, and Gunner wondered if she’d had enough for the evening.
Her dilated pupils, pointed nipples, and her lips curving upward to a smile told him they’d just started. Paige took him by complete surprise when she knelt in front of him. She reached for his belt buckle, then suddenly froze.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed by the way her eyes clouded in remembered fear.
Paige only whispered one word.“Richard.”
Pushing his anger at that bastard away, Gunner yanked her back up. Before he could decide whether kissing her again was a good idea, she rose on tiptoe and slammed her mouth against his.
She clawed at his jacket, his shirt. The fury of her need spurred his own. The Paige he’d known in high school had been reserved, shy even. The woman she’d become stunned him.
“Bed,” Gunner growled out.
