Never Surrender. Lindsay McKenna
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“Ohhhh, Gabe...” Bay uttered with a sigh. “That feels so delicious...what you’re doing....” She trembled as his strong fingers wreaked relaxing magic across her scalp, the water softly drizzling warmly around her. The way he massaged her scalp, she was putty in his hands. The soreness in her shoulders disappeared. The tension she’d been carrying dissolved beneath his slow, sensual ministrations. As he took a large cup, catching the water from the showerhead and rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, Bay made a soft sound in her throat.
“I think your hair’s clean now,” Gabe said later, setting the cup on the shelf. When she opened her eyes, her long lashes framing those incredible blue irises, he felt himself grow even harder. It was always a balance and a matter of control on his part. He loved her, wanted to pleasure her, hear her soft, husky sounds, watch her expression melt into utter joy.
“You always come first, baby.” Gabe leaned over, brushing his mouth against her wet, parted lips. A moan vibrated in the slender column of her throat, and he absorbed the happy sound into his body, his soul.
In one smooth motion, he lifted her and brought her into his arms, the raindrops surrounding them. Gabe didn’t want to leave her lush mouth, meeting her tongue as it shyly danced with his. Her breasts pressed against his chest. He felt her belly taut against his erection. Easing his hand down her spine, his fingers splayed outward, cupping her hips, pulling her more tightly against him. Now, he groaned. He had to have the control and wait. But her sleek, wet body sliding against his was undoing him.
Bay eased from his mouth, stepped back and picked up a bar of soap. “My turn...” She lathered the soap between her hands and skimmed her fingers across his scalp. Next, came his hard, weathered face. Gabe rested his hands lightly on her hips, and he closed his eyes. There was such trust between them as Bay gently began to remove the dirt and sweat encrusted in his short, gleaming hair. The dirt dissolved, and she lathered more soap, tracing his deeply lined brow. A brow of a man who thought a lot, said little, but had a mind like a steel trap. Her fingertips moved lightly across his straight, black brows and feathered across his closed eyelids. She felt his hands grip her hips a little more firmly, and she smiled, wanting to give him equal pleasure.
Gabe gratefully absorbed her healer hands as they washed his face, neck, arms and chest. Every touch was building a fire within him, stoking his need for her until he wasn’t sure he could last beneath her tender foray. As her soapy fingers glided toward his narrow hips, he drew in a sharp breath, clenching his teeth. Her fingers wrapped gently around him, and his entire body locked up on him. Gripping Bay, he hauled her against him. He drowned in her wide blue eyes that were filled with love for him. Her lips were parted, and she licked her lower lip. It was damned near his undoing.
“Just a little longer,” she pleaded huskily. “You want to be clean, don’t you?”
He sucked in a ragged breath of air, feeling her clean him slowly, thoroughly. Gabe thought he was going to lose it. Her hands skimmed his hard thighs, sliding down to his knotted calves and finally, his large feet. Every stroking touch of her fingers was healing. At every scar, Bay stopped, kissed it gently and then moved on. Gabe didn’t know whether to cry or scream. No woman had ever loved him with her hands like Bay did.
The first day Gabe had met Bay, he’d noticed her long narrow hands. Her fingers were tapered and beautiful, nails blunt cut. He remembered thinking how much he’d wanted to feel her touch on him. And when he learned she was a medic, it had made even more sense to him. Healing hands. Loving hands. Compassionate hands that knew...they just knew...and Bay knew he needed this...needed her touch like this. But by every name in his book of life, Gabe couldn’t stop loving her for who she simply was: a very kind, sensitive and caring woman. Who loved him.
What the hell had he done to deserve Bay? Gabe hadn’t led a stellar life. It had been ugly and dysfunctional throughout his childhood. He knew abuse. He knew a man’s fist, his belt lashing his flesh until it welted and bruised. He’d never known the tender touch, the loving touch that she now shared with him alone.
Bay watched all the tension drain out of Gabe’s face, out of his hard body. The sexual tension that replaced it was as it should be. She washed herself as he stood beneath the streams of water, soap sloughing off him, his flesh clean and glistening. Gabe looked at her beneath hooded, burning eyes, not making a move toward her. Simply watching her.
The dark desire was evident in his eyes. And he loved her. She gave him an impish look as she approached him, placing her hands lightly on his powerful shoulders. Leaning up, she whispered in his ear, “I’m ready to swim with the sharks, Frogman....”
Her smile dazzled his senses as she eased away to see his reaction. “You’re mine,” he rasped, and he began a slow, sensuous path, starting with her mouth.
Bay leaned into him, the water nestling in nooks and crannies between them, liquid flowing heatedly down her body as he took possession of her mouth. At the same time, he brought her hard against him. His other hand moved toward her breast, cupping it, moving his thumb languidly across the hardened peak. She uttered a small, fierce cry into his mouth as an electric shock bolted from her nipple straight down to her womb. Her entire body convulsed.
“Easy, baby, easy,” he coaxed, moving his hand even farther downward, exploring her waist, her hip.
She felt his lips leave her breast and then kiss the area between them. Gripping her hips, Gabe held her as he continued the trail of kisses down her stomach, across her abdomen. Giving a whimper, she gripped his thick shoulders as his mouth followed the crease where her thigh met her torso. Her knees shook with anticipation; she wasn’t sure she could remain standing, his tongue slowly following the crease down, down, down....
“Oh, Gabe,” Bay whispered, nearly crumpling if not for his steel strength holding her. Tightly shutting her eyes, her breath became ragged and shallow. He parted her, leaving her open and available.
“I can’t...stand...Gabe...”
He rose swiftly. “I’ve got you, baby. Just let me do the heavy lifting.” He gave her a heated look. “Ready to swim?”
Her heart fluttered wildly. The warm water only increased the heat already scalding her aching lower body. “Y-yes...” she whispered brokenly, her knees beginning to give way. In the next moment, she felt Gabe’s arm slide beneath her thigh, and she lifted upward. He guided her legs around his waist and then gently pressed her back against the warm, wet tiles, holding her in place.
“Open your eyes,” he rasped. “I want to see the look on your face when I enter you....”
Water sluiced across Bay’s face in rivulets. Her body was cramping, almost painfully, wanting him inside her. She was more than ready as she barely opened her eyes, her breath uneven. His eyes were narrowed, focused solely on her. Gabe was a sniper. No one had more focus than a sniper. They sighted their quarry, and they never let it go. She was his quarry. Gulping, she whispered, “Hurry...oh, please, Gabe....”
As Gabe gently entered her, he watched her eyes widen. It wasn’t from fear but from raw, welcoming pleasure of their bodies meeting like fiery, melting flesh into one another. Slowly, so slowly, he brought her down upon him, watching the wildness come to her eyes, the yearning and then the feverish heat enter them as they fused completely into oneness. He captured the hard nipple, suckling her. It made him feel so damn good to give Bay this kind of pleasure. Her fingers