Devotion (Central Cities #1)

Chapter 15

15

The following Sunday is my 150th day as Gabriel’s partner. Usually Sundays are quiet and uneventful, but he has an atypical early private meeting with the president and a few other administrators that’s supposed to last all morning.

I wake up slightly annoyed about the meeting since it means we won’t have as long as normal for our session after his swim this morning.

Last Sunday we had a leisurely time in bed together, and then we both fell asleep for a couple of hours. It would be nice to be able to do that again today. I feel closer to Gabriel than ever, and our sessions together have started to seem like an affirmation of that closeness.

Wishing for things to be different is a waste of energy and emotion. I learned that a long time ago. So I settle my mind around the reality of the day as I shower and then put my nightgown back on, brushing my hair out and leaving it loose since he prefers it that way when I’m not in public. Then I sit around to wait, relieved when he comes back after just an hour.

Just like me, he must want to leave us enough time before his meeting.

He takes a two-minute shower, and then we get going on the bed. I keep watching the clock during the massage so that I don’t spend all our time on it. By the time he turns over, he’s already hard and wants me to get right down to business, so I take him in my mouth and start sucking.

Breakfast arrives while I still have his cock in my mouth. It’s happened before. The staff is trained to knock briefly on the door and then let themselves in. There are too many meals to deliver to wait for residents’ preferred times, so most people simply ignore the staff’s presence.

Gabriel, however, isn’t comfortable intimately exposed, so when I hear the knock on the door, I pull the covers up over my head and the lower half of his body. I hold his penis in my mouth, but I don’t continue sucking until I hear the cart wheel back out of the room and the door quietly close with a click.

It takes some time to get Gabriel going again after the interruption of his momentum, but he gets there eventually, coming hard and shaking and moaning as he lets go of all his pent-up tension. When he’s recovered, he uses his hand to pleasure me and keeps fucking me with his fingers until I come twice.

We’ve both collapsed back onto the bed afterward, smiling at each other as we catch our breath.

“Shit,” Gabriel mutters at last. “Who the fuck calls a long meeting on a Sunday morning?”

“I don’t know. It’s a ridiculous time for a meeting. Do you know what it’s about?”

“No. Vincent probably has a new idea he wants to dump on us and expects us to make any necessary adjustments to implement.”

“You don’t have time for anything else. You barely have time to get your main project done on his timeline.”

“I know. But that’s not going to stop him from giving me more to do anyway.” He groans and then pushes himself into a sitting position on the side of the bed with obvious reluctance. “Okay. I’m getting up now.”

“Okay.” When Gabriel doesn’t move, I add, “I don’t see much evidence of getting up yet.”

He chuckles at that. “I’m trying not to fall back into bed. I don’t know why I’ve become so lazy lately.”

“Lazy? Lazy! You’re the least lazy person I’ve ever known in my life. You’re tired because you work too hard, so anytime you get to relax, your body fights being thrown back into work.”

He reaches behind him to squeeze one of my knees with a fond expression that goes right to my heart. “That’s exactly what it feels like. But I’m stronger than my body, so it must do what I say.” He hefts himself up to his feet, sways slightly like he’s trying to keep his balance, then strides naked into the bathroom to clean up and dress.

His meeting lasts almost until noon. Because I’m feeling lazy too, I don’t get my walk in during the morning like I should. I leave for my hour of exercise after Gabriel has returned and settled at his desk to work.

I’m letting myself back into the room afterward when I hear his voice.

It takes a minute for me to figure out that he must have gotten a call.

I pause with the door partway open. It’s not an intentional desire to eavesdrop, rather it’s an instinct to make sure I don’t interrupt something important. But when I hear a clear sentence, it feels like déjà vu.

“No, I’m not interested in trading her for someone else.” His tone is bored. Almost disinterested.

Something about it bothers me. As does the fact that someone else wants him to swap partners again.

It feels like a threat. It makes me defensive. That a faceless person wants to take me away from him. And I don’t understand how Gabriel can sound so apathetic about it.

After a brief pause, Gabriel responds. “No. I’m not going to change my mind. It’s taken me months to train Jess to a level where she’s basically competent, and I don’t have the time or patience to start the whole frustrating process again with someone else. … Yes. I mean it. You’ll have better luck picking out someone fresh who hasn’t developed any bad habits.”

I’m frozen in the hall outside our room, my hand clenching the doorknob so tightly my wrist is shaking. All the soft feelings—the closeness, the intimate pride, the satisfaction, the possessiveness—I’ve been holding in my heart for Gabriel have been slashed through with a machete.

It’s such a shock I can’t even cry about it.

“Yes.” Gabriel is continuing in that same bland, dry voice. “You’ve got to be careful to tiptoe around their feelings or they’ll think they’re not appreciated. Honestly, sometimes it’s more work than reward.”

I’m about to choke now. He can’t possibly be talking about me that way. I’d never believe it even this morning. I genuinely, stupidly thought he likes and appreciates me. That he values me as a person and values what I’ve worked so hard to give him.

I hear him end the call, so I have no choice but to walk into the room. He’s going to notice me hovering any moment, and that would add humiliation on top of what feels like heartbreak.

I breeze into the room with a forced smile and head directly into the bathroom with a quick wave in Gabriel’s direction.

Even though I don’t turn my head to look at him, I can still somehow sense his expression. Tired. Distracted. Blinking at me as he orients himself to my presence.

I spend longer than usual in the bathroom because I need to pull myself together, and I’m still shaky when I finally come out.

“You okay?” Gabriel asks, glancing up from the pile of papers he’s working through.

I give him a quick smile as I climb into my window alcove, wishing there were some way to hide from his sharp eyes and quick mind. “Of course.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Of course.”

“Did something happen on the walk?” He’s frowning now as he looks at me.

“No! Why would something have happened?” I do my absolute best to keep my eyes steady and my mouth relaxed. I fiddle with my locket but lower my hand when I catch myself doing it.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Something seems…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, which is just as well.

I stand, looking at him and waiting since that’s what I would normally do if he was midsentence.

He searches my face for a minute and finally says, “Okay. Sorry. Probably imagining things.”

He sounds so much like himself. Partly sardonic and partly amused and partly concerned—and always, always so clever. It makes my throat hurt and my heart ache and my knees weak. I lift a book like I’m going to read and turn slightly away from him in an attempt to hide my expression.

How can he think I’ve been a burden? How can he see all the time we’ve spent together as him training me? How could I have been so wrong?

I might not be as brilliant as he is, but I’m not dense or oblivious. I can usually read people and put clues together and interpret ambiguities. But I’ve apparently been wrong about him this whole time.

It takes more strength than I knew I possess to hold on to my composure and not burst into anguished tears. I pretend to read for an hour. Then I pretend to nap so I can close my eyes.

I’m too restless to maintain the pose of sleeping for long, so eventually I get up and go back to the bathroom so I can let a few tears fall and then check the mirror to ensure there’s no evidence of my small breakdown.

When I come out, Gabriel looks up again, watching me as I return to the window seat. He doesn’t say anything, but he keeps staring.

I finally ask, “What is it?”

“Are you sure you’re not sick?”

“No! Of course not.”

“And nothing is wrong?”

“Why would anything be wrong? I’ve just been hanging out here all day.”

“I know. Did you talk to anyone on your walk?”

He sometimes asks about people I encounter, but it’s usually from relaxed curiosity. Right now he’s clearly searching for answers, and that’s the one thing I can’t let him discover.

“Not really. I chatted with one of the guards. Hal. He’s the redhead with the bushy beard.”

“Oh yeah. What did he have to say for himself?”

“Not much. He and his wife just had another baby, so he’s all excited about that.”

Gabriel mentally files away that piece of information, but he’s more interested in scrutinizing my expression than in Hal’s family life.

His concern is making everything worse. Why the hell does he even care how I feel if he thinks of me the way he described on the phone?

“Do you need anything right now?” I ask, hoping he’ll take the hint and let me get back to my pretense of reading.

“No.” He glances at the clock. “Too early for a break yet. If you’re sure you’re okay?” He lifts his tone at the end, making the words a question.

“I’m fine. I don’t know why you’ve gotten that idea in your head today.”

“I don’t know why either. But I’m usually not wrong about this kind of thing, and something feels off.”

“It’s not.”

He lets it go, so I hope I’ve assuaged his concern. I go back to fake reading for another hour until I feel his eyes on me again.

This time it feels different. I look at the time. “Are you ready for a break?”

“Do you feel like it today?”

“Of course I feel like it! You know I’m always happy to take care of you.” I’m not telling him the whole truth. Usually I’m so eager I jump at the chance to meet his needs, but today a heavy reluctance is dragging me down. I fight through it, however.

This is my job. And nothing has changed since this morning except that my false perception about our relationship has been corrected.

It doesn’t matter if he cares about me or not. He still needs the release I can offer him, and it’s my responsibility to make sure he gets it.

He’s quiet as I move to rub his shoulders and neck, and he’s still quiet as he relaxes and I walk around to kneel in front of him.

I undo his pants to pull out his cock, but before I lean forward, he takes my face in both his hands and tilts it up so he can study it.

“What is it?” I whisper after a long moment. I have to suppress those angsty shudders that start in my heart and ripple through my entire body.

“Just checking. You really want to do this?”

“Of course I want to do it!”

He must believe me. He swallows and slides his fingers through my loose hair to the back of my head as he guides me toward his partly erect cock.

He’s quieter than normal as I suck him until he’s hard and then keep going, taking him deeper and harder until he ejaculates down my throat. It doesn’t feel like it normally does for me. It doesn’t feel as natural or intimate. But I manage to do a good job and even make some of those greedy sounds to convince him I’m as enthusiastic as normal.

He comes as he always does, but he eases my head back almost immediately instead of holding me in place through the aftermath. He tilts my head up and peers down at my expression again as he catches his breath.

I smile at him.

The smile is a mistake. He frowns.

“Jess, you need to tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong. How many times do I have to say it?”

“You’re going to have to say it until I believe it, and I don’t right now. Did you even want to do that for me just now?”

“Yes, I wanted it. I promise.”

“You’re not turned on.”

“Wh-what?”

“You’re not turned on. I can see it as clear as day. Usually you’re turned on after you do me, and you’re not right now.”

A legitimate excuse suddenly lands in my mental lap. “Oh. That’s not about me being upset. My period is going to start soon, and that always makes me feel a little blah. But it’s nothing bad or important.”

His eyes keep searching my face, but his posture relaxes slightly. “Okay. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I was barely conscious of it before, but maybe that’s why I seemed kind of off. I’m sorry you were worried.”

He caresses one of my cheeks with his thumb. “I was.”

I gulp and drop my eyes, needing to hide my expression. How can he sound so tender when he doesn’t mean it?

“Okay.” He lets his hand run down the length of my hair and then helps me to my feet. “You go rest, and I’ll try to get more work done. Thank you for doing that for me.”

“You’re welcome.”

The rest of the day is a little easier because my excuse has provided him an explanation for my altered behavior. I still want to break down into sobs at every other moment, but I manage to hold them back until it’s dark in the room and his breathing has slowed and lengthened.

He’s asleep.

Which means I can risk crying at last.