CHAPTER SIXTEEN GABRIELLE
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
G AbrIELLE
I hand the driver a cash tip. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Anytime. Have a safe night out there, ma’am.”
Shivering, I close the door of the rideshare and step onto my driveway. Lights are off in most of the houses down Bittersweet. Most, but not all. The kitchen light is on at Jay’s.
“Go back inside, Gabrielle. I’m sorry.”
I touch my lips, remembering how his felt against them.
Why? Why is he doing this? I don’t believe Jay is a bad guy. So why is he being a jackass?
I stare at the sky, hoping the night air will bleed into me and help me calm down. But the longer I absorb the stillness of the dark, the more I recall why I’m here and not out having fun with Della.
Because of Jay.
“Damn you,” I say, ignoring my better judgment and marching down the sidewalk toward his house.
There’s nothing to say to him. And by going over there, all I’m doing is letting him know he gets to me. That his behavior, and that kiss , affected me. I’m not helping my case by pounding on his door.
My knuckles rap hard against the wood anyway.
I’m just going to tell him to stay away from me. Draw some boundaries. Let him know I’m done playing his games.
My blood pressure rises as I knock again. This time, he answers.
The door pulls open with a flourish. He’s lost his shirt and his shoes but held tight to the fire I saw firsthand an hour ago. Anger is painted across his face.
I meet him glare for glare.
“Don’t you ever— ever —do that to me again,” I say, halfway shouting. “Don’t come at me, in a public place with an audience, no less, and act like you have some kind of say in what I do.” I lean closer, fury bubbling in my stomach. “You’re the neighbor, Jay. Just my neighbor. And if I want to go home with a guy— oof .”
His lips cover mine in an instant. The contact is a douse of gasoline on an already raging fire.
He’s greedy this time. Hungry. He’s as desperate for contact as I am.
One hand palms the back of my head, holding me against him. The other is around my back and cupping my ass with a ferocity that almost hurts.
I’m against his bare chest. Heat radiates off his tanned skin. We’re a whirlwind of lips, tongues, gasps, and moans. He pulls me closer to him and kicks the door closed.
The slam echoes through the room.
My hands run up his torso, appreciating every ridge and line. Then they roam across his shoulders and to the sides of his face, cupping his cheeks in my palms.
His kisses are urgent— demanding . He nips my bottom lip before planting kisses down my throat.
I moan, unable to take the intensity of the buildup in my core. My head spins as he kisses down my throat, then runs his tongue up to my ear. It’s too much of everything.
It’s not enough at the same time.
Oh, that feels so good.
“I’m still mad at you,” I say, barely able to get the words out.
He walks me until my back hits a wall, never breaking his kiss. His mouth takes mine hard , his tongue dragging over my bottom lip. My knees buckle. I’m held up by the drywall behind me and Jay Stetson’s hot body in front.
“You’re driving me nuts,” he says, the words peppered in between kisses.
My head digs into the wall as I wind his hair through my fingers. “Who do you think you are— oh, my fuck .”
His palms slide beneath my shirt, dragging roughly from my hips to my chest. My breasts in his hands—with only a piece of lace separating them—melts me.
I’m a rioting mess of need, want, and desire. So much fucking desire.
“Right now, I want to make you forget about that bastard in the bar.” He stops kissing me long enough to take the hem of my shirt and lift it over my head. He tosses it unceremoniously across the room. “How do you feel about that?”
“That depends on how you’re going to achieve it,” I say as his lips find mine again.
I find the waistband of his jeans, dipping my fingers behind it and drawing them to the button in the front. He leans away so I can unfasten them. His eyes are wild, yet cautious as he peers down at me.
“I want to fuck you, Gabrielle.”
That’s never sounded hotter. My thighs squeeze together, desperate for relief. That one simple sentence is the strongest foreplay of my life.
His button frees and I drag the zipper down slowly, letting my knuckles brush against his hard cock. I hold his gaze and watch his pupils dilate.
“I want you to fuck me too, Jay,” I whisper, gripping his sides. “But I need you to stop with the games.”
“There are no games.”
I chuckle, pushing the jeans down his legs. “I beg to differ.” I drop to the floor with them, tossing them away once he steps away from the fabric.
Grabbing the backs of his thighs, I kneel in front of a completely naked Jay.
My God, he’s a work of art. He’s a mix of smooth skin and rough edges, soft dips, and hard lines. Powerful and capable, yet attentive and maybe even sweet.
His cock is thick and hard as I wrap my hand around it. Precum glistens on the tip. All I can think about is how he’ll feel buried inside me—stretching me while I quiver around him.
I stifle a moan at the thought alone.
“There are no games, Gabrielle.” His eyes burn with sincerity. “What you think is a game is me trying to protect us both.”
“Protect us from what?”
He studies me, searching my face. Then, as if relief washes across him, he grins. “From my stupidity, I guess.”
Shivers race through me at his genuineness. This might be the first time I’ve seen a completely unprotected Jay. And damn it if it’s not beautiful.
“You have been a fool,” I say, grinning back at him.
I rise up on my knees and stroke him. His eyes widen. His mouth falls agape. I’m so wet that my thighs are sticky, and I can barely move without my clit screaming for attention.
But first, my attention is on him.
I look up at him through my lashes as his eyes darken. His anticipation of my mouth covering the head of his cock feeds how powerful I feel. The always-controlled Jay Stetson is threatening to come apart in my hand.
“You’re lucky,” I say, swiping the liquid off the tip with my thumb.
“Why is that?”
I smirk. “Because I didn’t go home with Bryant tonight.” I pop my thumb in my mouth and suck the saltiness off. “Think: I could be at his house, on my knees, ready to put his cock in my mouth.”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “Now isn’t the time for you to get cocky.”
I stroke him again, earning a hiss. Knowing how much I turn him on is a heady feeling—one I could get used to.
“I’m not getting cocky,” I say, fighting the heat rushing to my pussy. “I’m stating facts.”
His eyes blaze. “If you would’ve gone home with him, I would’ve— fuck! ”
He throws his head back and groans, flexing as I pull the head of his cock into my mouth. Watching him struggle to stay in control is the power play I didn’t know I wanted. Muscles in his neck and chest strain as I flick my tongue across his tip.
I give his balls a gentle squeeze, stroking him slowly with enough pressure to have him hissing through his teeth.
Watching him is intoxicating. I’m dizzy, almost drunk with adrenaline. It’s been too long since I experienced this.
He reaches for me, threading his fingers through my hair and guiding me up and down his length. Saliva drips down his shaft. I take him deep in my throat, then swirl the head around my mouth, using the underside of my tongue to dance in a slow circle around it.
“Stop,” he says, the words strangled.
I tap my tongue against the tip and gaze up at him. “You sure?”
He groans. “I said it, didn’t I?”
“Now isn’t the time for you to get cocky.”
I rise higher on my knees and take him deep again. I’m soaking wet, sure that the dampness is visible through my pants.
He tugs on my hair, pulling me away.
I release him and rock back on my heels. He stares down at me, the tension between us thick. The air crackles with suspense, but neither of us moves more than the rising and falling of our chests.
“I’m telling you, Gabrielle,” he says, nearly panting. “If we do this—if we fuck—things will be different between us.”
“Do you mean this is a one-night stand and you’ll ignore me after?” I smirk. “Oh, wait. You do that anyway.”
“Keep it up.”
“And what, Jay? What are you going to do?”
I narrow my eyes, fully aware I’m playing with fire.
He motions for me to stand, never breaking eye contact. I get to my feet and ignore my heart thumping so hard I can almost hear it.
“Turn around,” he says, the words a command and not a request.
I pull my hair over one shoulder and face the wall. I feel him step closer to me, and every cell in my body reacts to his proximity. My breath stalls in my chest as his fingers brush against my back.
My bra is unfastened. It falls from my front and onto the floor.
He moves until his front is against my back. My head falls against his chest as his arms wrap around me. My jeans are next as he unfastens them, pressing light kisses to the crook of my neck.
I pant, leaning my head to the side to afford him all the space he wants.
“You’re so damn beautiful, Gabrielle,” he breathes against my neck. “Fuck, I couldn’t stay away.”
He says my name as if it’s something to be treasured. I gasp a breath, fighting hard not to move, not to turn around and kiss him.
His palm lies on my stomach, and then, one painfully slow inch at a time, it moves down to my groin. His fingertips slide under my panties until they reach the top of my pussy.
I widen my stance, overwhelmed with sensations. The rough pads of his fingers hovering just above my throbbing clit. The soft presses of his lips up and down my shoulder. His hard body providing support since my legs have jellified.
“You’re wet,” he says before nipping at my earlobe. “I want to bury myself inside you.”
“Please.”
“Look at you, using manners.” He chuckles, sucking the bend of my neck. “I will. Just because you said please .”
“Now— ah! ”
He finds my clit and rubs slow circles around the swollen bud. Fireworks shoot from my core, spreading like lava through my veins. I sag against him, only to have him wrap his other arm around my middle, holding me tight to him.
He slides one finger inside me, and then two. The way his fingers bend causes him to graze just the right spot with each movement.
“Let’s get one thing clear,” he says, his tone suddenly hard. Gruff. Serious.
It sends a chill down my spine, and I wiggle against him. His cock digs into my ass, reminding me of what’s to come.
“What?” I ask, the question a beg.
“This isn’t a one-night stand.”
“What does that mean?” I squirm, helping him remove my jeans and panties. “What do you want, then?”
I barely get the denim kicked to the side when he spins me in his arms. The golden hue blazes as he pins his sights on me. I’m breathless.
I don’t know where this is going, or why we’re doing this now. We’re both amped up. We aren’t thinking clearly. But something tells me this isn’t the first time he’s thought this through.
“If we do this,” he says, sober as a judge, “it’s not a one-night stand.”
“Then what is it?”
He takes a step forward. I take one back.
“I don’t know,” he says, swallowing. Beads of sweat dot his forehead. “But I know that if I know what it’s like to be inside you, it’s not something I’m going to be able to forget.”
I have a feeling I’m going to feel the same way. “Meaning?”
He moves toward me again. I take another step back.
“That means if we fuck, there are no more assholes in the bar. Not until we figure things out between us.”
My back hits the drywall and I’m pinned against it. He stares down at me, waiting for my response.
Doesn’t he know he already has me?
I smile at him. “Fuck me, Stetson.”
He scoops me up, balancing my thighs on his forearms and digging his fingers in my ass. My back slams against the wall, rattling a shelf so hard a picture falls to the floor. Our kisses are frenzied, feverish—as if there’s a timer ticking and we have to get in as much as we can while we can.
He carries me around the sofa and lays me on the carpet in front of the fireplace. The fibers bite into my back, irritating the scrapes from the wall. But I don’t care. I need him inside me more than I’ve ever needed anything.
“I need to get a condom,” he says, his nostrils flaring.
“Wait.” I pop up on my elbows and try not to be distracted by his body. “I can’t have kids. And I haven’t had sex in ...” I try to calculate the months. “Look, math is impossible when you’re this turned on.”
He smirks.
“But it’s been a very long time, and I’ve had all the tests,” I say, trying not to whine.
“I had a physical just before you moved in. I’m good to go.”
He doesn’t move, giving me a moment to think it through. I respect the hell out of that. But I also need him inside me.
“Then for the love of God ...” I groan, gritting my teeth as I will myself not to tackle him and ride him until I come.
He stalks my way, dropping to his knees and then hovering over me. He gazes down at me with a rogue look in his eye.
“How do you want this?” he asks.
I lift my legs and lock them around his hips. “Do I get to do this more than once?”
“I sure fucking hope so.”
“Then make me come, Jay. I need it. Now. ”
He chuckles, the sound low and gravelly. It prickles my already sensitive libido. He positions himself at my opening. Then holding my gaze, he enters me in one hard, swift, delicious movement.
I yell, lifting my chin to the ceiling and closing my eyes for fear they’ll pop out of my head. I’m filled so completely, so fully, that I only pray I’m breathing.
He pumps in and out of me. “I thought you weren’t a screamer?”
“Me too,” I say through gritted teeth.
“You feel so good, Gabrielle. Even better than I imagined.”
My hips tilt for him. “Right there. Oh, my— fuck, Jay. ” I wince at the force of the waves rolling through me. “Right there.”
“Watching you makes it hard not to lose it.”
Tears dot the corners of my eyes. Every muscle tenses. I grip his shoulders as my legs begin to shake.
“Look at me,” he says. “Look at me, Gabrielle.”
I open my eyes. He holds my gaze.
His arms shake and my knees fall to the side. My ankles slip apart and down his sides.
The carpet burns my back. I simply don’t care.
He fucks me harder, deeper, watching me with rapt attention.
“You’re so damn beautiful, Gabrielle. Fuck, I couldn’t stay away.”
His cock is phenomenal, but the way he looks at me? The way he says my name? That’s the true event.
I’ve never felt more beautiful, more wanted, in my life.
“I’m going to come,” I say, bracing for the surge of energy building in my core. “Just a couple more times and I’m ...”
The words won’t come out. They’re stuck in my throat.
Sweat drips from his chin and hits my chest.
“Where do you want me to—”
“Ah!” I yell, my body trembling uncontrollably.
“Fucking hell,” he says, thrusting faster. “I’m getting too close. I’m going to have to—”
The orgasm hits me like a freight train. I yell again, too enveloped in bliss to be embarrassed.
“Don’t stop,” I say, my tits bouncing as he drives into me. The force of the orgasm is too much, too hard. I close my eyes and absorb the intensity. “God, Jay. Don’t stop. ”
“Fuck!” He slams into me. The sound of our bodies together fills the room. “Gabrielle ...”
I force myself to look, to watch him fall apart. And it’s a sight worth the effort.
His arms shake. His throat flexes. His jaw clenches so hard I’m afraid it’ll break. His hips roll as he empties himself, milking every bit of the orgasm that just destroyed me in the best way.
He’s a vision of masculinity—of a beautiful man falling apart ... over me.
I lean up, taking his face in my hands. He looks down and his arms buckle. I pull him to me, taking his mouth with mine.
He falls onto his shoulder, then brings me against his side.
Finally, I pull away, desperate for air. As soon as we’re apart, we look at each other and laugh, collapsing onto the floor.
“That was worth it,” I say, catching my breath.
He rolls onto his side and stares at me. “Worth what?”
I know what I’m about to say is going to set him off. But I can’t resist.
“This was totally worth not going home with Bryant.”
I barely get the words out before he’s on top of me, and I’m giggling like crazy.