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“I’m sorry,” she apologizes softly. “Maybe it would have been better if I met you here.”
“Wasn’t an option,” I tell her, kissing her head. We pull into an underground parking structure while security stops three cars behind us. We switch cars and drive out of another exit. Only when we are in the other car, and I see that no one is following us do I sigh with relief.
“You can relax now,” she says softly, holding my hand. I bring her hand to my lips, kissing it before looking back out the window.
He stops at the gate, where the security guard comes out and asks for my identification. Taking my wallet out of my jacket pocket, I hand it to him. He writes down something before walking over and pressing the button for the gate to open.
We drive in, stopping in front of my house. “Where are we?” she asks when I open the door and step out.
“My house,” I tell her as I walk toward the glass door with cast iron decorations on it. I toss my keys on the glass table on the side with a vase of fresh white roses in the foyer. The guy comes in and leaves the bags in the entranceway. I close the door, thanking him, before turning and making my way into the house. You don’t really see into the house with the big white wall not showing you anything.
“This isn’t your house,” she says beside me as we walk from the entranceway inside the house. The lights are on in the house, and the back wall of windows is pushed open. The sound of the ocean waves hitting the shore can be heard.
“It is,” I assure her, taking in the house as she looks around.
“What happened to your other house?” she asks, unsure of where to go.
“Sold it after you sent me my shit,” I tell her the truth. “Truth be told, I wanted to set the place on fire, but my father said I’d get more money if I sold it.” I shrug. She takes a step, and she looks around. I can see the shock on her face when she sees all the little touches that I had put into place. “I bought this house when we were in the South.” Her eyes go wide.
“But you never left,” she says, flabbergasted.
“I saw pictures,” I inform her, and she throws her hands up. “Besides, I had my father come out and look at it. My only stipulation was that it was on the beach because I know how much you love sitting out and listening to the water.” I smile at her. “When I saw the pictures, all I could do was see us walking down the beach hand in hand.” She puts her hand in front of her mouth. “Everything came furnished, but I wanted it to feel like home, so I sent them pictures of the house in Dallas,” I tell her as she notices the same throw pillows and blankets on the couch.
“Just like that,” she says, looking around and walking over to the fireplace mantel, where she picks up a picture frame. “This picture.” She holds up the frame, and it’s the one they took of us at the game.
“It’s my favorite,” I tell her the truth as she puts it down and then picks up another one, this one of her and Abigail. “I wanted you to feel at home,” I tell her nervously. She looks at me and then back at another picture of us taken at a Sunday lunch, my arms wrapped around her from the back. “Welcome to our home, Gabriella.”
THIRTY-ONE
GABRIELLA
I feel the bed dip on my side before the kiss on my neck. “I’m leaving,” he whispers, and I just grumble before blinking my eyes open. “Call me when you get up.” He bends and kisses my lips, but I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me, making him laugh.
“What time is it?” I ask after he leaves my lips for my neck, kissing it three times.
“Just after eight.” His voice is soft. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I couldn’t leave without kissing you.” I smile as my hand plays with the hair on the nape of his neck. “Do you want me to make you a coffee before I go?”
“No,” I reply, and he sits up, putting his arm beside my hips, still leaning into me. “Go work so you can come home early.”
“Okay.” He bends, kisses me three times, and then huffs when he gets up. “Don’t forget we have dinner with my parents.”
“Yes, dear.” I get up on my elbow, watching him walk to the bedroom door. His ass looks so good in the jeans he’s wearing. “Actually,” I say, and he stops, so I sit up and let the cover fall from my chest, leaving me naked, “if you want, you can come back to bed and make me come on your tongue.”
He turns and puts his hands on his hips. “I did that two hours ago.” He laughs, and I roll my lips.
“I don’t remember that,” I lie to him and throw the covers off me, getting up naked. I walk over to him and stand in front of him. I know that my being naked drives him crazy. Actually, even dressed I drive him crazy. “Are you sure?” I wrap my arms around his neck and slowly move from left to right, my nipples grazing his shirt, making them even harder. Then I let one arm fall from his neck, cupping his cock through his pants. “Do you have time to refresh my memory?”
He looks at me, and before he says anything, I turn and walk back to the bed. I get on my hands and knees, opening my legs and sliding a finger inside me. “Are you really sure?” I ask over my shoulder. “I don’t feel wet.” I close my eyes as I slip another finger into me. “I think you need to come over here and fuck me one more time before you leave, or I’ll have to take care of myself.”
In two motions, his shirt is ripped off him, the button to his jeans is open, and the zipper is down. He kicks off his jeans and boxers to the side and comes to the bed, pulling my legs out from under me. I close my eyes when he lifts my hips, and his mouth is on me, sliding into my pussy. “Oh, yeah,” I moan as he slides a finger in twice before letting me go. “Come back,” I say over my shoulder, but it’s met with a smack on my ass. I prop my hands in front of me and look back in time to see him holding his cock and running it through my slit.
He slides his cock into me so slow I feel every single vein. “Is this what you want?” He slams into me so hard that if he wasn’t holding on to my hips, I would have flown across the room.
“Hmm,” I moan and push back on him. “Harder,” I goad him as one of my hands slides down to my legs, going straight for my clit. He slams into me over and over again, neither of us saying anything. I’m so wet that I’m dripping down my leg. My arm gives out, and I’m flat with my head down, but my ass elevates a bit. He falls forward, putting his hands beside me as he fucks me hard and fast. I groan as I come over and over again on his cock. His mouth comes down on mine as he slips his tongue into my mouth to swallow the next moan. “Again,” I urge as he pounds into me. He pushes back up and holds my ass in his hands as he squeezes my ass while my pussy comes on his cock again. “I’m coming,” I moan, and he doesn’t let go. He just fucks me faster until I’m begging him to slow down so I can catch my breath.
“You threw your ass in my face.” He slaps my ass, this time harder, and all I can do is moan because it sends a sensation straight to my nipples. “Now, you want me to stop?” He slaps me again, and I can feel the orgasm coming again. “You getting ready to come again?” He slaps my other ass cheek. “Squeeze my cock.”
He slaps me again, and all I can do is whisper, “Yes,” before I come again. I close my eyes, riding the wave, and then he pulls out of me.
