Rebel North by J.B. Salsbury

Thirty-Three

Kingston

“The trucks are scheduled to arrive at seven o’clock, so I plan to be there double-fisting espressos at six.” Angelica peers at me from over the iPad. “Any questions, boss?”

I take one last look at the completed vision board for the North Industries lobby. Angelica and Todd are great about getting things ordered and putting numbers and measurements into a computer. I leave those things to them and work best with visuals. And I’m really liking the plan we have laid out for tomorrow. Everything must be perfect. Having sunk all my free time into this project, I’m ready to finish it and put it behind me. “No questions. I think we’re ready.”

“Is Gabby bringing us dinner tonight?” Todd says with a glint of excitement in his eyes. “Those meatball subs are the bomb.”

“Not tonight.” I check my phone to see if she has texted. We usually stay in touch all day. She texts on her break at the hospital and on her way to ballet, and I text her every time I look up from whatever I’m working on, every chance I get. “Let’s cut out early. Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

It’s just before five when I lock up shop and head upstairs. Gabriella should be home from ballet by now. I might even be lucky enough to catch her before her shower. I like to offer my help with the hard-to-reach areas.

The prospect of Bee all sudsy and wet has me taking two stairs at a time. Her door is unlocked, so I knock once and walk inside. I’m already working on the buttons of my shirt. “I hope you’re dirty, Bee! Because I plan to make you dirtier before I lick you cle—” I slam to a halt when I pass by the kitchen.

Gabriella is in her dance clothes, her hair pulled back and damp with sweat, her eyes wide in horror. Standing next to her in a three-piece suit—which, judging by the cut, is definitely Italian—is her dad.

I’ll never forget his cold, hateful stare.

The same one currently aimed directly at me.

“Mr. Penn-Sterling…” I swallow hard. “What are you doing here?”

Her dad’s eyes narrow on the exposed section of my chest, and his lip curls in disgust when his eyes come back to mine. “You sure about this guy?” He’s clearly talking to his daughter, but his glare stays on me.

Gabriella sighs. “Yes, dad.” She walks to me and mouths your shirt before taking my side.

I work my fingers up each button, closing my shirt up to my throat. “You told him.”

She shrugs. “Of course.”

“Can’t say I approve,” her dad growls.

“Can’t say I care,” she says in her light voice that I love. “You want me to be happy, and Kingston makes me happy.”

By the softening of her dad’s expression, I can see that voice has a similar effect on him. That expression hardens again when she slips her arm around my lower back and tucks into me.

She’s so fucking brave. It takes a steel spine to stand up to men like our fathers.

“I guess now is as good a time as any to also let you know,” she gazes up at me adoringly, “I’m in love with him.”

Her dad blinks as if this is new information to him. Or maybe it’s not new, but he’s only now attempting to believe it.

His jaw saws back and forth as if he’s working on a pros and cons list that probably involves my death and disappearance.

“You wanted me to heal. To get back to living.” She looks up at me with a smile that shoots straight to my chest. If we were alone, that grin would get her fucked hard where she’s standing. She smirks as if she senses the direction of my thoughts.

“All I want is for you to live the best possible life you can.” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his suit pants and stares at the floor. “You deserve no less.”

“I can say with all my heart, Dad, I am now.” She squeezes me to her as if punctuating her statement.

“For what it’s worth,” I say, “you told me to stay away from her that night at the hospital, and I really tried. But I fell in love with your daughter, and I couldn’t stay away forever.”

“Okay, okay,” her dad says and waves her off. “That’s enough. I get it.”

Gabriella rolls her eyes, but smiles.

“Why don’t you two get changed, and I’ll buy you both dinner.”

“You don’t need to—”

His gaze snaps to mine. “You want my blessing to date my daughter?”

“I… guess?” Truth is, I’d date her with or without his permission. But I suppose his blessing means more to Gabriella than I could understand.

“Great. Get dressed, and let’s go.”

“I don’t need to change. But I’ll wait for Ga—”

“Yes, you do.” He grimaces. “That shirt is covered in tiny flying dicks,” he says and checks his watch. “You have ten minutes.”

“Hey,” Gabriella says, smiling. “I love that shirt. Wear it.”

Little rebel.“If you say so.”

“I’m not going to be seen in public with him wearing a dick shirt,” he grumbles. “Ten minutes!” he says before closing the door behind him.

“Holy shit,” I breathe.

I’m still trying to regulate my heartbeat. I knew I’d have to face her dad again eventually. I didn’t think it would be so soon. “Why didn’t you warn me he was up here—whoa, what are you doing?”

She already has her leggings off, and she’s tugging at her shirt and sports bra. “Changing.”

“In the kitchen?” I readjust my quickly swelling dick. Hey, it’s not my fault. My woman in a g-string and nothing else is a temptation beyond resisting.

She bends over to pick up her clothes.

I groan at the visual.

She straightens and smirks. “We have ten minutes.”

“I’ll make you come in two.”

Her eyes flare. “Wanna bet?”

I cross to her in one long stride and have her back pressed against the refrigerator. I slip one hand into her ponytail and the other down the front of her panties. “Fuck.” I rest my forehead against hers. “You’re already soaked.”

Her breath hitches when I slide my fingers inside. “My body was primed for a shower together.”

I bite her bottom lip and pull before releasing it with a growl. “I change my bet. One minute.”

She moans and rocks her hips against my hand.

“You’re mine, Bee. You know that, right?” I coax a long groan from her throat. “You’re so beautiful.” I run my lips along her scars, drop kisses against the tight skin, and thank God that she’s here, that she’s alive. That she’s mine. “You make my world a prettier place.”

She hitches her leg over my hip, putting her dripping heat so close.

“Fuck it.” In seconds flat, I release my hard-on, tug her panties to the side, and plunge so deep both her feet come off the ground. She wraps her legs around me. I throw my hips forward with a desperate need to crawl inside her. Her body tenses. Her lips part on a sigh. I take the opening and kiss her. Her taste floods my system and fuels my desire. Harder. Deeper. I suck her lip and nip with my teeth. She tenses, her body giving all the signals that she’s close. Her orgasm tears through her and triggers my own.

My head spins, and my legs shake, but I don’t stop moving, milking, drawing out the pleasure of our mutual release. There is no earthly comparison to what I feel when I’m making love to Gabriella. Soft and slow, hard and fast, long and dirty, no matter how we do it, where we do it, I’m always overwhelmed with the love I have for this extraordinary, complex woman.

Spent, sated, and totally fucking stunned, I pull back and look down at her soft smile.

“Three minutes,” she says, her voice husky in a way that has me hardening again while still inside her. “I win.”

“Does that mean I’m your sexual servant for a day?” I kiss her forehead and carefully lower her feet to the ground.

“A day?”

I bite my lip when I pull out of her, really fucking annoyed that we can’t take this into the bedroom and pick up where we left off.

“I thought you’d be my sexual servant for life?” She winks over her shoulder and sways her sexy ass into the bedroom to get changed.

I don’t follow her in there because if I do, we’ll never make it out to meet her dad. “I think that means I won the bet then!”

The bet, the lottery, the favor of the universe—with Gabriella, I won at life.