One Night with Cinderella Page 3

  There was a sudden squeal of car tires from down below.

  They both quickly moved to the railing to look at the street. A bright red sports car swerved to the right of a blue convertible before racing away.

  “The aftermath of a near collision,” Gabe said, glancing over at her, standing beside him.

  “Hopefully everyone will get home safe,” she said.

  Gabe took in her high cheekbones, the soft roundness of her jaw and the tilt of her chin. The scent of something subtle but sweet surrounded her. He forced his eyes away from her and cleared his throat. “Hopefully,” he agreed as he poured a small amount of champagne into the flute.

  “I’ll leave you to celebrate,” Monica said.

  With a polite nod, Gabe took a sip of his drink and set the bottle on the roof at his feet, trying to ignore he was so aware of her. Her scent. Her beauty. Even the gentle night winds shifting her hair back from her face. Distance was best. Over the last week he had fought to do just that to help his sudden awareness of her ebb. Ever since the veil to their desire had been removed, it had been hard to ignore.

  She turned to leave but moments later a yelp escaped her as her feet got twisted in the long length of her robe and sent her body careening toward him as she tripped.

  Reacting swiftly, he reached to wrap his arm around her waist and brace her body up against his to prevent her fall. He let the hand holding his flute drop to his side. Their faces were just precious inches apart. When her eyes dropped to his mouth, he released a small gasp. His eyes scanned her face before locking with hers.

  He knew just fractions of a second had passed, but right then, with her in his arms and their eyes locked, it felt like an eternity. He wondered what it felt like for her. Was her heart pounding? Her pulse sprinting? Was she aroused? Did she feel that pull of desire?

  He did.

  With a tiny lick of her lips that was nearly his undoing, Monica raised her chin and kissed him. It was soft and sweet. And an invitation.

  “Monica?” he asked, heady with desire but his voice deep and soft as he sought clarity.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered against his lips, hunger in her voice.

  “Shit,” Gabe swore before he gave in to the temptation of her and dipped his head to press his mouth down upon hers.

  And it was just a second more before her lips and her body softened against him as she opened her mouth and welcomed him with a heated gasp that seemed to echo around them. The first touch of his tongue to hers sent a jolt through his body, and he clenched her closer to him as her hands snaked up his arms and then his shoulders before clutching the lapels of his tux in her fists. He assumed she was holding on while giving in to a passion that was irresistible.

  * * *

  Monica was lost in it all. Blissfully.

  The taste and feel of his mouth were everything she ever imagined.

  Ever dreamed.

  Ever longed for.

  She was lost in a heady mix of surprise and excitement as she raised slightly trembling hands to stroke the back of his head. A moan from deep within her escaped. His grunt quickly followed. Somewhere in the heat of it all, she heard the flute crash against the roof as he released his hold on the drink to drag his hand up the back of her thighs.

  He tasted her lips before pressing heated kisses down to her throat where she felt him deeply inhale her scent before suckling that little dip above her clavicle. She gasped and cried out as she flung her head back giving him more of her neck to taste. She clung to him, lifting and bending her leg to the side of his solid body and being rewarded by his hand gripping her buttocks through the cotton, feeling the heat of his touch.

  “Gabe,” she whispered into the air, saying his first name aloud for the first time ever.

  And what a time to do so.

  When she’d noticed him standing there, looking so sharp and handsome in his black tuxedo with a bottle of champagne in his hand, he’d seemed to have stepped straight off the pages of a high-fashion magazine or some cologne ad. With his shirt open at the neck and his tie undone, she’d felt pushed over the edge of reason, no matter how well she’d covered it. Just tempting. Strong, dark and sexy. Devastatingly so.

  Her heart had pounded with both surprise and a desire that took her breath away.

  And now he was kissing her. And touching her. And pressing her body against his.

  Am I dreaming?

  Her mouth sought his and he accepted her boldness when she offered him her tongue. With a grunt of pleasure, he sucked the tip into his mouth. Deeply. And then did it again. And again. She trembled. Her pulse raced and she ached deep inside her womanhood.

  Don’t wake me up.

  Monica pressed her hands to the sides of his face, enjoying the feel of his shadow against her palms as she gently played with his earlobes and the soft skin just behind them. She felt the slight tremble of his body and knew she had happened upon his hot spot. Maybe one of many.

  Against her thigh she felt the length of his hardness.

  Breaking their kiss, she leaned back just a bit to look at him as she panted.

  Their eyes locked and something happened between them. A current. A spark. A vibe. She felt it and shivered.

  This was desire, and in it, they were equal.

  “Monica?” he whispered into the small break between them.

  It had been so long since she’d given in to pure carnal pleasure, but she couldn’t remember ever feeling the thrill his touch brought her. Her entire body felt electrified. He was seeking approval to give her even more pleasure. When in her entire life had more ever been an option? After a lifetime of so many disappointments. So many dreams she never dared to give hope to. How could she deny herself this?

  “Yes,” she acquiesced, giving both him and herself permission.

  Gabe swung her up into his arms and took long strides to reach the flower-covered pergola. There, beneath its cover, he pressed her down onto one of the round, double chaise longues, and the thick cushion welcomed her. He removed his jacket and flung away his bow tie. The shirt clung to the hard definitions of his body.

  He got sexier?

  Monica leaned against the pillows as the fleshy bud between her legs swelled to life. She watched him remove a condom packet from his wallet before undressing as she slowly untied the belt of her robe and opened it to fall at her sides. Her trembling hand paused at the top button of her nightgown as she took in the first sight of Gabe Cress—the Gabe Cress—standing before her gloriously naked.

  Oh. My.

  He was sculpted. Plain and simple. But then not simple at all, because the all of him was everything. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, eight-pack abs and strong thighs. The hair on his chest lay flat before narrowing to an arrow down the jagged middle line of his abs and connecting with the curly dark bush that surrounded the base of his smooth, thick and long hardness. It curved away from his body in a darker complexion than the rest of his light brown skin. Like milk chocolate. Decadent.

  Gabe massaged the length of his inches before covering his hardness with their latex protection. He bent his body to crawl up the chaise. She hitched her matronly floral-print gown up her thighs as she opened her legs to him. She assumed he was going to press his body down upon hers, but instead he reached to undo each tiny pearl button running down the front of her gown. Somehow each one being undone seemed to send a jolt through her as more and more of her naked body was exposed to his. And when he reached the last one and flung the gown open, she arched her back and released a hot gasp as the spring wind floated across her body and hardened her nipples even more.

  Gabe stroked and massaged her inner thighs before lying flat and then giving her a heated look as he lowered his head.

  He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

  But he did.

  The first feel of his clever tongue stroking against her bud was her undoing. Monica cried out and reached to grip the sides of his face as she rotated her hips while he sucked the all-too-sensitive bud into his mouth. As he pleasured her, she wished she had followed her instinct and done the same to him. Just imagining the feel of his hardness against her lips and her tongue as he tasted of her in the most intimate fashion, she felt breathless. She was lost in her passion but finding a piece of herself that she had locked away in her loneliness over the last five years.

  It was a wonderful hello to her femininity. Her sexuality. Her being.

  An awakening.

  “Gabe, Gabe, Gabe,” she gasped into the night air as she clutched at the pillows with her nails and dug in for control as she felt herself spiraling into an explosive climax that made her entire body feel so raw and exposed. So alive. In the best way. Ever.

  Just as she was on the brink, Gabe quickly shifted his body atop hers and probed her wet and quivering core with the tip of his hard inches. She tilted her chin up and licked at his mouth as their eyes met. “Just this once,” she said.

  “Just once,” he agreed with a nod, his eyes so dark and intense in his handsome face. “Then I better make it damn good.”

  “Please,” she begged, wrapping her legs and arms around his body almost desperately as he used his hips to fill her with one swift thrust.

  They cried out roughly.

  They were united.

  Connected.

  Monica closed her eyes as she winced at the feel of him so tightly sheathed by her core. Every pulse of his dick seemed to pound against her walls. She knew he was fighting for control. Trying his best not to climax. She was glad her own peak waned off. For now. She wasn’t ready for their wild night atop the roof of the beautiful Victorian town hous
e to end.

  “Look at me.”

  She did as he bid.

  Their eyes stayed locked on one another—lost in each other—as he began to stroke inside her. She felt it. From base to tip. Hardness. Thickness. Heat. Over and over again.

  Feeling emboldened and lost in the carnal pleasure, she matched each thrust with a slow wind of her hips that tightened her walls down upon his shaft.

  He pursed his lips at the move and then swore.

  She knew she pleased him and she smiled, tilting her head to the side, her mouth agape, as she continued to match his stare. He dipped his head to kiss her and she tasted herself. It thrilled her as she sucked his tongue into her mouth with a low purr.

  Their eyes were still locked. It was intense. And heady. And powerful.

  His strokes deepened and he sped up the pace. She gasped as her eyes widened, and she could do nothing but give in to his passionate onslaught as she broke their stare and buried her face against his neck to muffle her cries of pleasure. He slid his hand beneath her to grip her bottom. She looked over his shoulder at the up-and-down motion of his buttocks as he stroked away. His muscles clenched with each movement. A trickle of sweat coursed down his back and disappeared in the deep groove between his hard buttocks.

  It was a glorious sight to see.

  He lightly bit down on her shoulder as his body went stiff.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered in between pants.

  He replaced his teeth with a kiss. “I don’t want this to end. Not yet,” he said, his own breathing labored as he waited for his orgasm to recede.

  “No. Don’t. Not yet,” she agreed, turning her head to the side to face his.

  They shared a soft laugh as they looked at one another.

  Monica stroked the side of his face and was surprised when he turned his head to kiss her palm. She gave him an inquisitive look at the tender move.

  “You’re beautiful,” he admitted.

  She made a face of disbelief. “No, you are,” she said, stroking his buttock with her heel as she massaged his back with her fingertips.

  He chuckled.

  She tightened her walls against his hardness.

  He stopped laughing and shifted his arm around her waist to hold her close before turning both their bodies so that she was atop him. She looked down into his silvery-blue eyes that seemed to blaze against his light brown complexion. Her gaze searched his face. Missing nothing. Not even the small scar on his chin that was barely hidden by the shadow of his beard.

  Feeling bold and confident, she removed his arm from around her and slowly sat up straight as she drew her hands up his sides and across his chest to press against his pecs. She flipped her hair back over her shoulder to have a clear view of his face as she began to ride him. His eyes seemed to fill with wonder as he watched her move her body like a snake, her one hand held up in the air.

  Gabe ran his hands up her thighs to her belly and up to cup a breast in each hand.

  “Aaaaaaah,” Monica cried out, letting her head fall back so that the tips of her hair tickled the top of her buttocks as he eased one hand up to press against her throat with his index finger near her mouth.

  She turned her head to suck the tip into her mouth and was rewarded when she felt him get harder inside of her. The base of his inches stroked against her bud, fueling the slow and steady rise of yet another climax. She was anxious for it to explode.

  She moaned with a wince of pure anticipation.

  Gabe sat up to draw one taut brown nipple into his mouth as he gripped her hips to slam down as he thrust his own upward, sending his hardness against her fleshy bud with slight force. Again. And again. And again.

  The combination of him licking her nipples and her swollen and aching bud being plucked like a chord was earth-shattering. She quickened her pace, back and forth on his length, as he matched her speed. “Yes,” she sighed. “Yes.”

  “I’m with you,” he moaned against her cleavage before moving to her other breast to suck and lick it as if starved.

  “Yes!” she exclaimed, her throat dry from her panting and gasps of pleasure. Her entire body felt heated as she exploded with the first sweet wave of her release.

  Gabe roared with his own release as he held her tightly and continued to taste her nipples.

  Monica was lost as she rested the side of her face atop his head and bit down on her bottom lip as she succumbed to her climax and felt a wave of pure pleasure made all the more electric by Gabe free-falling into the abyss with her. Their rough cries filled the air, blending with the drone of late-night traffic as their sexual haze came to a shuddering end that left them both sweaty, panting and fighting for control of the rapid pounding of their hearts.

  As he lay back and she shifted her body on top of him, her head on his hard chest, she marveled at what they’d shared. She wondered if he had experienced such pleasure, such invisibility of inhibitions and such electricity before. Because she hadn’t. Not ever. And wondered if she would ever again.

  Just this once.

  That had been her request, and she knew it was for the best. Even as they lay in each other’s arms weakened by their explosive climax, regret was settling in. She nibbled at her bottom lip as reality returned. Gabe Cress, as beautiful and sexy as he was, and having far surpassed her seductive dreams, was one of her employers. She couldn’t afford to lose the job she loved nor did she want encounters like this to be a regular occurrence. It was all so typical of upstairs-downstairs relationships.

  Tonight had been just for me, but no more.

  She hated the insecurity she felt even as she lay in his arms. “Just once,” she reminded him in a soft whisper as she listened to the pace of his heart begin to slow.

  He nodded, and for moments she didn’t count, he continued to hold her before he pressed a kiss to the top of her wild hair and rose from the chaise. A goodbye to their rendezvous.

  Three

  Two weeks later

  Monica wiped her sweaty brow with the back of her hand before she rose from her knees and dropped the large sponge into the bucket of sudsy water.

  “Thank you,” Raquel said from her seat on one of the two custom-made, light gray velvet sectionals in the sizable den centering the fifth floor of the town house, where there were three bedrooms, each with their own attached bathroom.

  “No problem, Mrs. Cress,” she said, picking up the bucket from atop the silk Persian carpet in the same shades of gray and steel blue as the stylish decor throughout the entire town house.

  “Apologize to Miss Monica for your mess, Collette.”

  Moments after she heard Raquel’s request to her and Phillip Jr.’s daughter, Collette, Monica felt a gentle tug on her pants leg. She turned and looked down at the precocious three-year-old with dimpled cheeks and bright yellow spectacles that made her all the more adorable.

  “I’m sorry I spilled my milk, Miss Monica,” she said.

  “No worries, Colli,” she said with a soft smile, using the child’s pet name. “No worries at all.”

  With her absolution, the little girl went running back across the room to sit at her mother’s feet where she’d been playing with her iPad.

  Monica made a mental note to have the rug removed for professional cleaning. Once done dumping the bucket, she used the wrought-iron staircase running along the north side of the house to go back down to the fourth floor where she had been cleaning the bedroom suites before being summoned upstairs to attend to the spill.

  She crossed the den that was the exact same design as the one upstairs, with the glass letting in so much spring light to shine against the hardwood floors and elaborate woodwork of the custom shelving and doors. She retrieved her cleaning caddie and pulled it behind her to Gabe’s bedroom suite on the far end. Her steps faltered a bit. This was his sanctuary, and after their lovemaking, entering it felt all the more nerve-racking.

  At the door she took a long breath and wet her lips before finally opening it and entering his spacious suite decorated in stylish shades of gray, from charcoal to smoke. Her eyes fell on his unmade king-size bed and she envisioned him lying there nude as he slept.