A One-Time Thing

21. Rowan

CHAPTER 21

ROWAN

T he date was fine. Fine, except for the fact that everything Brian did, I found myself comparing him to Gil. Fine, except for the fact that even going on a date made my stomach tight and unhappy, like I was doing something bad. Like cheating on Gil. Except Gil and I weren’t anything that would restrict me from going on a date. I knew where I stood with him. Going on a date with Brian was fine .

A fine fucking mistake. Dinner was awkward, and not in a way that anyone would find endearing. Conversation was hard to come by, though Brian tried his best, to his credit. We went on a walk after and he bought us ice cream. At some point during the ice cream, Brian gave up. With a sigh, he tossed the rest of his ice cream in a trash can and looked at me.

“It’s not happening, is it?”

The answer was a resounding no. I managed a meek shake of my head and a mumbled apology.

He shrugged and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Figured.” He sucked in a deep breath and let it out with another sigh. “I’m going to go. I’ll see you for lunch sometime next week? As friends?”

“Friends.”

He smiled at me, tight and unhappy, and he wandered away. I threw my ice cream in the trash on top of his and got in my car, grateful that I’d decided to drive myself rather than depend on Brian for a ride. I pulled into my driveway a few minutes later. The house was dark other than a light up in Fisher’s room. Pocketing my house keys, I walked down the driveway and found myself heading up Gil’s steps a few minutes later.

I hadn’t been able to get him out of my head all night. All week. Since I met him, really. Gil was an addiction that I didn’t want to shake. The rasp of his voice was a siren song pulling me in over and over. The way he looked at me like he was always halfway amused by me, but not in a way that made me feel bad about myself. Like he found me charming or, at the very least, worth looking at. Worth talking to.

Because we did manage to talk now and then between rounds of sex. But I wanted more. Because I was foolish and smitten and couldn’t help myself even as I marched up to his front door and knocked.

“Can I come in?”

Gil perused me, his gaze raking up and down, making me feel exposed. “Yeah,” he said. “Come on in.”

I liked my house well enough, but I loved Gil’s. Gil’s house was decidedly lived in. From the rumpled blanket on the couch, to the way the remotes on the coffee table were scattered around haphazardly. Plus, it smelled like him. Like leather and ozone and home.

“Want a beer?”

“Not tonight.” Tonight I didn’t want anything that would prolong the inevitable. All I’d thought about tonight was him, and now that I was finally in his space, my low simmering want turned into a need so fierce it stole my breath.

I stepped up to Gil, slid into his personal space. My hands found his hips and I tilted my head up to look him in the eyes. He wasn’t the easiest person to read. He kept himself pretty closed off a lot of the time, but I liked to tell myself that he was on the verge of opening up to me. I liked to pretend that we could make a go of it, even though he was terrified of that. Hell, so was I.

The last person I’d fallen for had been taken from me. It had been just Fisher and me for six long years. Part of me didn’t know how to move on or how to fall for someone new. Another part of me already had.

I wasn’t foolish enough to say any of this out loud. Instead, I closed my eyes and took what I was allowed. Rising on my toes, I brushed my mouth against his. My eyes squeezed tight and I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him flush against me. He came willingly, melting against me. Then, in the next breath, he took over. Sliding his tongue into my mouth, he kissed me in ways I’d only dreamt of being kissed.

He kissed me like he owned me. Like I belonged to him. And, maybe in these moments, it was true. And maybe it was enough. For now, it had to be. I had it in my mind to tell him about the date when I was walking up his driveway, then he’d opened the door and I knew the date didn’t matter. It had been the biggest failure on the planet. All I’d thought about the whole time was that he wasn’t Gil.

Brian didn’t make me trip over myself with nerves. He didn’t have that cutting sense of humor Gil had, or the smolder in his eyes when he looked at me. Or a million other things that made my pulse race.

Gil grabbed my ass and pulled me tight against him, grinding his cock against mine as he attacked my mouth. Something about Gil made me desperate. Needy. Brave . I didn’t want to question it, not right in that moment with his tongue in my mouth and his fingers fumbling with my fly.

“Gil, wait,” I said as he assaulted my neck with kisses and popped my fly open. Gil went still, like I’d hit the pause button on him or short-circuited his brain. His voice was rough and raspy when he spoke, thick with lust.

“Row?”

The way he shortened my name made me feel like that single syllable now belonged to him alone.

“I want your cock in my mouth,” I said.

Gil gripped my hips and mouthed the shell of my ear. “I want you out of that shirt.”

I loosened my bowtie with trembling fingers, meeting Gil’s intense gaze while I worked at the knot.

“Keep the tie on.”

“Okay,” I agreed without question. Working the buttons of the shirt loose, I slid out of it. The bowtie hung loose and crooked around my throat, but the heat in Gil’s eyes told me how much he appreciated the sight.

“On your knees then.” He ghosted a kiss against my lips before waiting patiently for me to get on with it.

I was exposed. My pants hung open. My shirt was gone. My bowtie was loose and crooked, reminding me of the fact that my chest was bare. I slid to my knees and fumbled with the fly of Gil’s pants until it finally cooperated.

Gil slid his fingers through my hair and I leaned into his touch, seeking it out. I pulled his pants down to mid-thigh, wasting no time in freeing his cock. My mouth watered at the sight of him. God, he had an amazing cock. Thick and pretty, precum glistening on the tip, enticing me.

Moving in, I licked the drop of moisture off his cock, then flicked my gaze up to find him looking down at me. Brows furrowed, lips parted. He had a wild look in his eyes, like it was all he could do to stop himself from fucking my face. I wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and leaned in, laving my tongue over his balls before licking up the underside of his shaft.

Gil groaned and his hand tightened in my hair, anchoring me to him. Every tiny tug telling me without words that I was where I belonged. Where it made sense to be. Because Gil and I shouldn’t make sense, but we did. A guy as handsome as him shouldn’t want anything to do with someone off-balance and out of his depth the way I frequently was. But Gil moaned again when I took him in my mouth, a long drawn-out sound as he sank his other hand into my hair, cradling my head now. I didn’t feel so clumsy or unsure suddenly. Instead I felt right and perfect, and like I was where I was meant to be.

My lips stretched around his cock and I used my tongue to tease the head. He tasted like skin, and salt, and I had to remind myself that I wouldn’t get to keep this. Him. Gil had made it clear what he wanted and didn’t want from me. Maybe this should be the last time I came over for this, I thought briefly, dismissing it as soon as the notion entered my head.

The truth was simple—I’d take as long as Gil would let me. I’d come over again. And again. And I’d keep coming over until he made me stop. Until he no longer answered the door and let me in and kissed me like he owned me and told me to get on my knees.

I jerked him as I sucked. Stroked and bobbed and made a mess of my face with my spit. Gil’s hips stuttered as he tried not to thrust, but I liked it when he did. Knowing that I could undo him like this, that I could make Gil Valentine lose his mind made my cock throb.

Releasing his cock, I let my hands drop to my sides and I looked up at him, mouthful of cock, spit on my chin, loose bowtie still hanging on my neck. I must look like a complete slut. A wreck.

I had no pulse. No breath. I was sure I’d ceased to exist and that it was the look in Gil’s eyes that ended me with its intensity.

“Do you want me to fuck your face, Row?” Gil caressed my cheek before sliding his hand back into my hair.

Unable to keep staring up at a man I wanted to keep forever, but knew I couldn’t, I closed my eyes and took what he let me have.

He started slow and he talked while he leisurely used my mouth.

“That fucking bowtie, Rowan. I want to fuck you while you wear nothing but that. Want to gag you with it. Maybe I’ll take it off and jerk your cock with it.”

Gil’s hips thrust harder. Deeper. His cock hit the back of my throat and I choked around him. My cock throbbed in my pants, leaking and aching and desperate for me to touch myself. But I held off. I wanted to be desperate for him. I needed him to see how unhinged he made me feel.

Gil eased his tight hold on my hair, releasing a handful to push some strands off my face. “Maybe I’ll make you come on your slutty little bowtie, and then I’ll gag you with it.”

I whimpered at the sound of that. Truthfully, I’d let Gil do anything he wanted to me. Anything at all. I’d let him suck me, fuck me, breed me, pin me down, tie me up, blindfold me, gag me. Hell, I’d let him keep me if he wanted. That’s what I wanted most of all.

Desperation rose up in me like a tsunami wave rushing for the shore and I reached between my legs.

“Don’t touch that cock, Rowan. That’s mine.”

I grabbed on to the top of his pants that were still around his thighs and held on for dear life. Because if I let go, I was going to shove my hand in my pants and it would just take the tiniest bit of friction to get me off. The fact that I’d whimpered when he laid claim to my cock should have mortified me, but I was too wound up, too drunk on Gil to care. Honestly, I liked the idea. I knew he only meant it in the heat of the moment. I wasn’t his, as much as I wanted to be. But, for now, I could pretend.