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I got in the bed and he slipped in next to me. He lay on his side, keeping a distance. I reached across to my bedside table and turned off the bedside lamp.
Darkness permeated every inch of the room. Gabe’s heat and heavy weight compressing the mattress next to me made my body sing. Rain tapped the window and in the silence between us I’d never heard anything so loud. I turned to face him.
“There’s no way anyone would have let you be a Boy Scout,” I whispered.
I heard the grin in his voice. “I was. I had the little necktie and everything.”
I should have stopped talking, but I couldn’t resist. “What were you like as a kid?”
A pause. “Lonely.”
“I would think you’d have had a lot of people around.”
“The house was always full, but Dad was busy with work and I hardly saw Mother. We traveled all over the world, but I was always alone.”
His thumb rubbed over my knuckles, sending tingles up my wrists. I shouldn’t have moved closer, but I couldn’t resist. He was quiet for so long that I thought he might have fallen asleep before he whispered into the darkness, “Your mum’s not well. What’s wrong? Do you mind me asking?”
“She had a stroke. She’s doing better, but it did a lot of damage. We take it day by day now.”
“I’m sorry. That must be tough for all of you.”
Rain tapped gently against the window.
“We don’t talk about it. Mum likes to try and stay positive, but it is hard. I worry about her. I don’t like to leave her in case it happens again. Me and Reece had places of our own, but we’ve all moved back in here.”
The silence wrapped around us. Tentatively, I groped for his face in the inky darkness. My fingertips brushed his lips and I replaced them with my mouth, brushing a light kiss on him. The slight movement in the bed caused a creak and I froze. That was that. We couldn’t get up to anything. I wanted him so badly, but it would be too noisy. Besides, we’d said one night.
I pulled away. The silence crackled around us. I felt his hand groping for me in the darkness, running over my stomach and my hips. I held still, hardly daring to breathe. His fingers found the waistband of my knickers, teasing to slip under.
“We can’t. We have to be quiet,” I said.
He snapped his fingers away. The pulsing need between my legs ached unbearably. Why deny myself something I wanted so badly? I took hold of his fingers and pulled them back to place his hand where it rested before on my stomach.
“Yeah?” I heard the uncertainty in his voice.
“Yeah.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
His fingers grazed my inner thighs, teasing and stroking. Warmth rushed wherever his palm touched as he smoothed his hands over my belly and hips then slipped a cool finger between my legs, running between my folds, parting me and resting lightly. The teasing movement drove me wild. I had to resist the urge to grind against his hand for more friction. He began to move his fingers. A low moan escaped me. How could a man be so talented with his hands? I couldn’t stop myself from grinding into the bed. A creak rang out from the mattress and we both froze. I dug my fingernails into the duvet.
“Fuck,” I whispered. “Don’t stop now.”
He chuckled and whispered into my neck. “I thought we had to be quiet.”
“We do, but you can’t leave me like this again. Why do you love torturing me so much?”
“Because it’s so fun.”
He resumed his work on me and it took everything I had not to arch up and grind into his hand for more pressure.
My breath came in sharp gasps. “Oh God.”
“What?” I couldn’t see his face, but I heard the grin in his voice. “I’m trying not to make a noise.”
“It’s torture.”
