Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
He pumps in and out of me. “I thought you weren’t a screamer?”
“Me too,” I say through gritted teeth.
“You feel so good, Gabrielle. Even better than I imagined.”
My hips tilt for him. “Right there. Oh, my—fuck, Jay.” I wince at the force of the waves rolling through me. “Right there.”
“Watching you makes it hard not to lose it.”
Tears dot the corners of my eyes. Every muscle tenses. I grip his shoulders as my legs begin to shake.
“Look at me,” he says. “Look at me, Gabrielle.”
I open my eyes. He holds my gaze.
His arms shake and my knees fall to the side. My ankles slip apart and down his sides.
The carpet burns my back. I simply don’t care.
He fucks me harder, deeper, watching me with rapt attention.
“You’re so damn beautiful, Gabrielle. Fuck, I couldn’t stay away.”
His cock is phenomenal, but the way he looks at me? The way he says my name? That’s the true event.
I’ve never felt more beautiful, more wanted, in my life.
“I’m going to come,” I say, bracing for the surge of energy building in my core. “Just a couple more times and I’m . . .”
The words won’t come out. They’re stuck in my throat.
Sweat drips from his chin and hits my chest.
“Where do you want me to—”
“Ah!” I yell, my body trembling uncontrollably.
“Fucking hell,” he says, thrusting faster. “I’m getting too close. I’m going to have to—”
The orgasm hits me like a freight train. I yell again, too enveloped in bliss to be embarrassed.
“Don’t stop,” I say, my tits bouncing as he drives into me. The force of the orgasm is too much, too hard. I close my eyes and absorb the intensity. “God, Jay. Don’t stop.”
“Fuck!” He slams into me. The sound of our bodies together fills the room. “Gabrielle . . .”
I force myself to look, to watch him fall apart. And it’s a sight worth the effort.
His arms shake. His throat flexes. His jaw clenches so hard I’m afraid it’ll break. His hips roll as he empties himself, milking every bit of the orgasm that just destroyed me in the best way.
He’s a vision of masculinity—of a beautiful man falling apart . . . over me.
I lean up, taking his face in my hands. He looks down and his arms buckle. I pull him to me, taking his mouth with mine.
He falls onto his shoulder, then brings me against his side.
Finally, I pull away, desperate for air. As soon as we’re apart, we look at each other and laugh, collapsing onto the floor.
“That was worth it,” I say, catching my breath.
He rolls onto his side and stares at me. “Worth what?”
I know what I’m about to say is going to set him off. But I can’t resist.
“This was totally worth not going home with Bryant.”
I barely get the words out before he’s on top of me, and I’m giggling like crazy.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
JAY
The moonlight streams through the windows of my bedroom. Shadows flicker across the wall, the limbs of the giant oak tree outside the window blowing in the breeze. I pull Gabrielle closer to my side and breathe her in.
For the first time in four long, hard years, I feel as though peace—if only a sliver—is attainable. Usually, I lie in bed and overthink—ripping apart every decision, every conversation I’ve had, that brought me to this place. A place that most nights I loathe.
No one enjoys being bitter—anger is uncomfortable—but both emotions have dominated my life for a long time. I’ve both hated it and wished it away, and held on to it, because it was better than the alternative of feeling sorry for myself.
“What are you thinking about?” Gabrielle whispers into the quiet.
“Not much. You?”
She hums against my side.
“I thought you were asleep,” I say.
“I was, but I’m not used to having someone in bed with me. Every time it registers that there’s a body beside mine, I wake up.”
Please say no. “Do you want to go home?”
She raises her head high enough to look at me. Her eyes are sleepy, her lids heavy. She’s absolutely beautiful.
My chest tightens as if it’s putting on armor. I know the feeling well. But this time, I don’t want to wall off from the perceived threat. The idea of having anything more than a sheet between us is unfair. It’s just not that easy to break old habits.
“Do you want me to go?” she asks.
“Come here.”
I pull her down so that her head rests against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her, snuggling her beneath my chin.
“Can I ask you something?” She draws designs with her fingertips on my stomach. “I don’t want to pressure you. I’m just curious.”
“Okay.”
The designs on my abs slow. “I want you to know you’re right. What you said earlier—that if we have sex, it’ll be hard to forget.” The circles stop and her palm lies flat against me. “It’s already hard to forget.”