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“Do you still want me to go with you to yoga today?” I ask, secretly excited about it.
I’ve done yoga a few times, and it’s a surprisingly good workout. Plus, with how well my wrist is doing, I’m looking forward to doing some stress-testing.
But Gabi shakes her head and begins kissing my chest. “No, let’s skip.”
I lick my lips, enjoying her attention. “You said you didn’t want to miss just because Nicole is out of town and literally begged me to go,” I tell her, chuckling when she nips at my skin. “You wanted to start the new year off by following through more often, remember? Get in regular workouts?”
She looks up at me, mischief in every line of her face. “But what if I want us to stay here?” Gabi licks my nipple, sending a light shiver through my body. “Get a different kind of workout.”
Another thing I’m enjoying about this second chance with Gabi: sex whenever we want.
Well, within reason.
I groan quietly when I feel her small hand stroke down my abs and then wrap around my cock, which has been hard since before I even began to wake a little while ago.
“You make a very convincing argument,” I tell her, my hips beginning to shift as she jacks me. “Maybe we can work something out.”
I feel the huff of her laugh as she kisses my neck and sucks gently at my skin, the wet slide of her tongue against my pulse a delicious tease. She continues to stroke me, and I mimic her movements with my fingers as I glide them between her pussy lips then slip them inside her. I groan when I find her already soaked.
“Bishop,” she whispers, her voice a quiet whimper as I begin to circle her clit. “Bishop, I need you.”
God, nothing feels as incredible as hearing her say that.
Though being inside of her is a close second.
Gabi rolls onto her back and drags me on top, her hands caressing my flanks as she spreads her thighs and hooks them over my legs. Then I’m pressing into her, my cock sheathed in the warmth of her depths, and we both moan, our voices hushed. I pump into her gently, at a steady pace, relishing our joining. There’s an ecstasy in being wrapped up under the blankets in our own private cocoon.
Drawing back just slightly, I watch as her tits bounce with every thrust, using one hand to pinch at her nipples and the other to hold one of her legs wide. I feel the flutter of her internal walls and I drop down again so our faces are just inches apart, so we can hear the quiet pants of each other’s pleasure.
“Touch me,” she whispers, and I move my hand to her clit, rubbing a small circle over the tiny button. Gabi’s eyes close, her mouth opening, and then she whispers again. “I’m coming.”
Her pussy clamps down on me over and over again as she flies over the edge, and I moan, the sensation exactly what I needed. A few more pumps and I’m right there with her, the heat of my orgasm licking up my spine and shooting down through my muscles. I tuck my face into the crook of her neck, groaning through my release.
We lie there for a few minutes, our hands caressing as we gently bring each other down. Once it feels like both of our hearts have finally calmed, I lean back and look at Gabi in the face. She smiles softly at me, and then I kiss her on the lips.
“Alright,” I say, pressing a kiss to her nose before I tug the covers off of us completely, exposing our naked bodies to the cold of her bedroom.
Gabi yelps, trying to reach for the blankets, but I pull them off the bed. “What are you doing?” she asks.
“Time for yoga.”
“What?” she cries out.
“Come on, lady, move that sexy ass. You said this was important to you, and I’m going to be here, reminding you, as often as I can.”
She glares at me like I’ve kicked a cat or something, but then she pushes out of bed, mumbling incoherently under her breath and surely plotting my demise.
I’ve only heard from my agent twice since I got out of surgery back in September: once to make sure everything went well, and then once last month via text to ask how the recovery was going.
He’s not a man of many words, so when I spot the missed call from Richard after I get home from yoga with Gabi, a sense of foreboding skitters down my spine, and I just know he’s going to tell me something I don’t want to hear. I’ve had some questions about the upcoming season and the timing for when I’ll be heading back to Oregon, but I’ve been living in a state of uninformed bliss, just enjoying my relationship with Gabi and spending time with my family.
Somehow, I can just tell the little bubble I’ve been living in is about to pop.
I give him a call once I’ve taken a seat on the edge of my bed, shaking my hands out and taking a few deep breaths as the phone rings.
“Hey, Bishop. Happy New Year. How’re you doing, bud?”
I hate when he calls me bud.
