We take off down the street, the wind whipping against my face, the sound of the bike drowning out everything else. Gabriel drives like he’s got nowhere to be, weaving through the streets of Richland with no real destination in mind. I can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tighten every time we stop at a light, how he grips the handlebars like he’s holding on for dear life.
My worry grows with each mile. Something’s bothering him, gnawing at him, but I know him well enough to know he’s not ready to talk about it. Not yet. Right now I’m just grateful he came and got me. This is his way of letting me in.
Twenty minutes pass, having taken the scenic route, before we pull up in front of his place. I take off the helmet, my hair a tangled mess, but I don’t care. I slide off the bike, watching as Gabriel gets off slowly, like the burden of whatever’s on his mind is dragging him down.
“Come on,” he says, his voice low.
He reaches out for my hand, and I place my palm in his before following him up the porch steps.
The house is quiet, but I doubt it’s empty. The guys are probably all just in their rooms or maybe hanging out back. Gabriel heads to the living room, flicks on the TV, and then drops onto the sofa, tugging me down with him, “Wanna watch a movie?”
It’s a distraction. A way to fill the silence without having to talk, but I agree anyway. “Sure.”
We sit on the couch, side by side, but Gabriel’s stiff. He’s trying to act normal, but I can feel it—the tension radiating off him, the way his leg bounces slightly, how his arms are folded tight across his chest. His mind is somewhere else, miles away from me and this living room.
I glance at him, my chest aching for him. What the hell happened today to make him like this?
Gently, I reach out, my fingers slipping beneath the hem of his shirt. I trace the hard lines of his abdomen, the ridges of muscle warm under my touch. He sucks in a sharp breath, his body going still, and when he turns to look at me, his gaze is heated, intense. The storm in his eyes shifts, turning from frustration to something darker, something desperate.
Suddenly, the tension in the room morphs into something heavier. There’s this charge in the air now.
Gabriel moves fast, his lips crashing into mine with a desperation that makes my heart race. He kisses me like he’s starving for something only I can give him, and I melt into it, my hands fisting his shirt, pulling him closer. His fingers are in my hair, his touch rough and possessive as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping across mine in a way that sends heat spiraling through me.
Before I know it, I’m straddling his lap, my knees on either side of his hips, grinding down against him. He groans into my mouth, his hands sliding up my thighs, gripping me tight. His hips thrust up to meet mine, the friction between us electric, every movement sending a jolt of pleasure through my body.
My breath is coming in short gasps, my heart pounding in my chest. I can feel him, hard and ready beneath me, and a thrill shoots through me, my body reacting without thought. But just as I lose myself in the heat of it, a thought slams into me like a cold bucket of water.
Gabriel doesn’t live alone.Shit.
I pull back, my chest heaving as I meet his gaze. His pupils are blown wide, his breathing just as ragged as mine. He frowns, confusion etched into his face.
“We … we should go upstairs,” I whisper, my voice hoarse, my cheeks flaming.
Gabriel blinks, processing my words, then a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face. “Yeah, we should,” he murmurs, his hands sliding to my waist. He lifts me off his lap, standing and pulling me with him.
“Let’s get out of here before someone walks in,” he adds, his voice low and rough with desire.
I don’t argue. My heart’s still racing, my body thrumming with the need for more.
The second we’re locked behind his bedroom door, something snaps inside Gabriel.
He spins me around, pressing me up against the cool wood, his body flush against mine. His hands grip my hips, firm and unyielding, and his lips are back on mine, kissing me with a hunger that steals the breath right from my lungs. There’s no hesitation, no gentleness—just raw need. His urgency is all-consuming and desperate, the heat of his body searing through my clothes.
The tension that’s been building between us finally snaps, and it’s like a dam breaking, all of that frustration pouring into the way he touches me.
“Fuck, baby,” he growls against my lips, his breath hot and ragged as his fingers slip beneath my sweater, pushing it up over my head. The material hits the floor, forgotten, and his hands are everywhere—roaming over my skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He’s rougher than usual, and I feel it in every touch, every graze of his fingertips, as if he’s no longer treating me with kid gloves.
Every brush of his hands against my skin feels electric, each touch sending shivers straight to my core.
I shudder under his touch, my heart pounding in my chest. He’s overwhelming in the best way, his body, his presence, all-consuming. There’s an intensity I haven’t felt from him before, something raw, unchecked, like he’s done holding back.
I can feel his heartbeat hammering in sync with mine, the heat rolling off him in waves. I reach for his shirt, tugging at the hem, desperate to feel his skin against mine.
Gabriel rips his shirt off, the movement quick and rough, like he can’t stand the distance between us for a second more.
And then he’s on me again, his hands cupping my face as his mouth moves against mine. I sink into it, into him, my fingersdigging into the hard lines of his shoulders as I arch into his touch, needing more.
Gabriel’s hands slide down my sides, gripping the waistband of my jeans. With a quick flick, he unbuttons them, pushing them down over my hips in one swift motion. I kick them off, my skin already buzzing with anticipation. But the way he moves, there’s no softness, only possessiveness—like I’m something he needs to claim and mark.
