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I feel something press against my thigh. ‘Your body says otherwise, Gabi.’
‘He betrays me.’
I lean forward and kiss his slack mouth. ‘They always do.’
After we’d got to the hotel, we’d both been too sore and tired to do anything but fall into bed, accidentally missing dinner and the chance to order anything to our room.
Gabriel’s hand caresses my neck and shoulders as he drifts back to sleep. It’s fine with me. It’s nice just to lie with him, to feel his skin against mine.
Eventually we do get up—at eight thirty-two exactly—dress and make our way to breakfast, where we spend a leisurely hour eating.
It’s a beautiful day, if a little humid, so we gather our things and go to the beach. The water’s crystal clear and so warm. Gabriel and I slosh through the shallows until we leave the hotel behind on the other side of the island, and there’s no one else to be seen.
We find a shady spot under a tree and spend the morning coming in and out of the water, smelling like sunscreen and salt.
While we dry off, I read the opening chapters of the crime book to him, explaining the harder language as best I can while his hands get increasingly distracting.
Eventually, I put down the book. ‘Do you want to go back to the hotel?’
Gabriel laughs and rubs his nose against the sparse hair on my stomach. ‘Yes. Definitely. Yes.’
When we get back to our room, I take a quick shower. Then, still naked, Gabriel presses me against the mattress and maps every inch of my body with his mouth. When he crawls on top to kiss me, I taste salt on his tongue. Soon we’re tangled in each other, lost in the feel of each other’s bodies.
That’s the good thing about dating a professional athlete: it’s their job to be incredibly ripped at all times, and while I’ll relish a day when Gabriel’s regime relaxes, feeling the ripple of his abs under my fingers is a novelty I’ll never grow sick of.
He kisses me, open-mouthed and hungry. There’s no need to guess what he wants. I want it too. Heat prickles along my skin as I feel him press against my thigh, feel his heaviness.
‘Baby,’ I groan into his shoulder as he bears down, finding that perfect friction. His hand grips my hair, just on the right side of being too hard, and everything starts to spin.
‘There are condoms in the drawer. Lube too,’ I say. I’d put them there last night; hadn’t wanted to fumble through our suitcases when the mood hit us.
Gabriel sits up, dazed and red-faced.
‘Gabi.’ I place my hand against his flexed thigh. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Do you want to—’
Oh. ‘Well, I thought—’
With all our careful planning, there still seems to be something we haven’t spoken about.
‘Don’t you like it, you know?’ His face gets redder. ‘A certain kind of way?’
‘I like it lots of different ways,’ I admit. ‘But I thought for your first time, it might be easier if you’re on top. Then we can start figuring out what you like later.’
Gabriel nods and reaches forward to open the drawer, grabbing the box of condoms and the lube. He tries to open the box, but his shaking fingers can’t get underneath the seal. Frustrated, he thrusts it at me.
‘Are you sure you want to keep going? We can just do what we did before—I liked that too.’
He scrubs a hand down his face. ‘Fuck, yes, okay. I’m just—’ He lets out a long, shaking breath. I think that’s the second time I’ve ever heard Gabriel swear. ‘Nervous.’
I reach forward and cup his face. ‘Nothing to be nervous about. Touch me for a bit. The rest will happen.’
‘Oh,’ Gabriel mutters, as if it dawns on him that he’s not the only one nervous about sex with a new partner. ‘I can do that.’
Gabriel can, indeed, do that. In fact, he is very good at kissing; he’s firm and demanding and it’s not long until I’m mindless. He takes control, pinning my hands beside my head, and then his hands are in my hair, on my hip, grabbing the fat of my thigh, pulling me closer and closer, until we’re flushed against one another, chest to chest, hip to hip.
‘Tell me if I hurt you,’ he murmurs against the shell of my ear, and then he’s touching me; really touching me, his fingers hot and slippery. I open my eyes and he’s right there, wide, and open and loving, looking at me like I’m the centre of his fucking universe.
