TWELVE
G abriella took stubbornness to a whole new level. I've had more luck convincing my brother's toddler to take her medication than I did with this woman.
"I'm not going to bite you," I murmured, holding the passenger door of my car open for her. "Unless you want me to."
"Do you always have to be so filthy?"
"You should know just how filthy I can get, Gabriella, you've witnessed it first-hand." Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. The look on her face always made me laugh.
She pursed her lips and got into the vehicle, her thick thighs spreading the second she sat down.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
My heart hammered in my fucking chest and I closed the door. I had to remind myself not to slam it shut due to my level of pent up tension. I ran a hand through my hair and loosened the top button of my shirt before sliding into the driver's seat.
"Where are we going?" Flashbacks of us at the club played in my mind where she asked me the exact same question. Only difference between then and now, is that I was currently relatively more calm.
"Always so curious."
"I need to know. You could be a serial killer planning to hack me to pieces and then dump my body parts into the river."
I raised an eyebrow. "Lay off the documentaries, yes?" I pressed the ignition button and the car hummed to life. "If I were a serial killer, you would've already been dead by now."
"Thank you for the reassurance. You sure know how to calm my nerves," she said sarcastically. "And for your information, I'll never stop watching murder documentaries."
"I try," I said flatly. "We're going to Central Park. Relax." She gazed at me with those innocent eyes and it stirred sensations in my groin. "That's the reason why you're so paranoid."
After my previous intense encounters with her, I decided to try another approach. One that wasn't so overwhelming for her.
"Why are we going to Central Park?" she questioned. "You don't strike me as the kind of man that takes strolls in a park for leisurely purposes."
"I heard it's romantic." I pulled out of the parking spot and drove off. "Now tell me the truth."
Gabriella looked away from me, glancing out of the window. "I already told you. I was under the impression that it was a one night stand and I didn't want to deal with the awkwardness that comes thereafter."
"You and I both know there wouldn't have been an awkward moment between us, Gabriella. So what's the real reason?" My patience wore thin and I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white.
"Something tells me you're normally the one who leaves after your sexual activities. Doesn't feel good when you're one the other end, does it?" I could hear the playfulness in her voice.
It's something I picked up on—whenever she was in a situation that was too much for her to handle, she'd crack a joke. "Gabriella," I said sternly. "Not that my sexual history is of any importance right now, but no, I've never left in an abrupt manner after sex because we established boundaries beforehand."
"I just…" She paused, fidgeting with her gold necklace. "I don't know." I kept my gaze on the road, not wanting to make her retract her words. "It's complicated."
"Complicated?" I asked lowly, slowly turning to look at her. "Are you going to elaborate?"
"I don't know how to elaborate."
"Try."
"You won't understand, this is why I didn't want to have this conversation with you. This," she gestured between the two of us, "should've ended in Cabo."
"Well, fate brought us back together so things have progressed from Cabo to New York." She scoffed, folding her arms over her chest which inevitably pushed her tits together. Shit , stay focused. "Make me understand then."
"It's nothing."
"No," I muttered angrily, making her head snap in my direction. "Don't do that. Can you just talk to me? Jesus Christ, Gabriella." I came to an abrupt halt, parking on the side of the road.
She looked around, panic filling her eyes. "Are we on the Goddamn highway?" she screeched, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder.
"Yes," I said calmly. "I'm not moving until you talk to me. "
"If you don't move, I won't be able to talk to you at all because we'll be dead or in a coma." She turned her head to the right, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Okay, fuck." It was the first time I ever heard her curse and the sound aroused me more than it should have. "Drive. I'll tell you, but please, just drive."
"Start talking." I stepped on the gas again, speeding down the highway.
"I haven't been with anyone for the past four years." My shoulder tensed at the thought of her with anyone else, but knowing that after all this time she chose me, eased my mind. "I got nervous, so I left. I didn't want to deal with the aftermath of our…endeavour."
I remained silent, allowing her to talk. "I've never felt such an intense attraction towards anyone other than you. I thought it would be best if I just left, and of course, I never expected to run into you here and I was hoping I never would. Does that make me a coward? Probably. I'll gladly be labelled as one if it means I'm protected."
I glanced in her direction for a few seconds. "I also had an emergency back home and had to leave earlier than expected. I thought the timing was definitely convenient, given the circumstances."
Five seconds. Ten. Twenty passed by with nothing but silence and the roar of the engine surrounding us while I drove. "Now I've got a question for you," she said softly.
"What is it?" I was yet to comment on her revelation.
"If you knew where I was all this time, why didn't you come find me?"
More silence surrounded us before I finally answered, "Because I knew that when I saw you again, I'd never be able to let you go and now look." I paused. "I'm unable to leave you alone, Gabriella. I'm fucked ."
We never made it to Central Park. Well, we never got out of the car, but we were currently parked on the sidewalk near our desired location.
Nicolas and I were too immersed in each other and the conversation to get out of his vehicle. He wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me closer to him.
"I don't think you understand how badly I want you, how badly I crave you." His lips ghosted over mine, barely touching them, but the action had me yearning for him. "I had one taste of you, but I need more."
"Nico," I whispered, closing my eyes and inhaling his freshly scented cologne. "I think we should take things slow."
"You're torturing me." He slid his fingers into my hair, tugging on the curly locks. My head tilted backward, exposing the column of my neck. Soft kisses and nibbles were left all over my skin. "I've been thinking about you nonstop for the past month."
"Are you under the impression that I haven't been thinking about you?" I whimpered as I placed both hands on his shoulders and dug my nails into the fabric of his shirt.
He hissed softly, but continued his kisses in my neck. "Have you?"
"There hasn't been a day that's gone by where I didn't think about you and what we did. I've had flashbacks while I was at work."
"So I'm not the only one that's been suffering." His lips skimmed against my jaw, brushing against my cheek until he reached the shell of my ear. "What does taking things slow entail?" he questioned.
"No sex," I answered quickly making him groan. "Only kisses."
"Where?"
"What?" I asked, too far gone to understand what the question meant.
"Where can I kiss you?" he whispered in my ear. "Can I kiss you between your legs, too?"
"No."
"You're killing me." He bit my earlobe. "You're actually going to be the fucking death of me." Nicolas wrapped his hand around my throat and kept me at arm’s length.
My head made contact with the window, the cool feeling a huge contrast to the warmth of his touch and body. I wrapped my hands around his forearm, trying to open my eyes so I could look at him.
"Okay, I'll respect your decision." He tightened his grip, making me gasp. "No inappropriate touching. No fucking ." Dirty words and his rough hands on my body was an extremely dizzying combination. "From this day onward, you're mine, Gabriella. Do you understand me?"
I nodded, unable to utter a coherent response. "I asked you a question," he grunted. "Use your words and answer me."
"Yes." I bit my lower lip. "I understand you, Nicolas. I do." He released me, leaning back in his seat.
He looked at me with a fierce intensity. "I desperately want to wrap that long, curly hair around my fist and fuck that pretty mouth until you're sobbing." I gasped at his words, heat spreading to my cheeks.
He shifted slightly and my eyes landed on the bulge in his pants. "I don't want to hear anything." He started the car. "I'm taking you home before I break your rules, and I wouldn't want that."
"This is most likely just an excuse to see where I live," I said while Nicolas started driving, the speed at which he drove gradually increasing.
"Sweetheart," he paused, "I already know where you live." I side eyed him and rolled my eyes at his matter of fact tone .
"Of course, you do." I placed my palm on his thigh, squeezing it gently before slowly sliding it upward. His jaw ticked and I smiled, knowing it affected him.
"Gabriella." It was a warning, a big neon sign if you will, but I ignored him. "Gabriella, I swear to God, if you don't stop that—"
"What?" I asked innocently. "I'm not even doing anything."
"You know exactly what you're doing and it's going to get you into a lot of trouble."
"I've never been in trouble before, it almost sounds exciting ." Inch by inch, I moved my palm closer to his extremely evident bulge. With one hand placed on the steering wheel, he used the other to place it on my hand—effectively stopping my movements.
He didn't look my way, his tone menacing while he spoke. "You have five seconds to remove your hand, Gabriella." I was beginning to hate my rule to take things slow because the dull ache between my legs intensified.
I slowly removed my hand and placed it in my lap. "Riling you up is honestly so fun. I never got the opportunity to fully experience it in Cabo."
He scoffed. "Enjoy it while it lasts," he murmured grumpily. "It won't be fun when I'm deep throating you until you can't breathe, right?" I squeezed my thighs together, looking away from him and focusing on the buildings we passed. "Thought so."
"You honestly have zero filter. Didn't your mother wash your mouth out with soap?" He stiffened at the mention of his mother, his grip around the wheel tightening slightly before he relaxed.
I frowned at his reaction, but didn't pry. "No," he said curtly. "I'm honest. Don't women love that shit?" He cast a glance my way and my heart skipped a beat.
"I suppose they do, but speaking for myself, I appreciate honesty in a less…vulgar manner. "
"Well, you better get used to it, sweetheart, because that's never changing." He smirked. "Besides, I know the effect it has on you."
"I have no idea what you're referring to."
"Is that right?" Judging by his tone of voice, he clearly didn't believe me. "You start blushing, your lips part slightly, your eyes widen a little bit, and you always gasp. It may be soft and subtle, but I notice everything."
"I don't know whether to be flatter or concerned."
"You don't understand—" He paused, shaking his head. "Seeing that we're taking things slow, I wanted to ask you something." I was curious to know what he was about to say.
"Yes?" The question came out as a whisper.
"Will you let me take you on a date?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Things surely took a drastic turn between us and it gave me whiplash.
"I'll give you an answer, if you answer my question."
We reached a red traffic light and the vehicle came to a halt. Nicolas looked in my direction with a straight face and nodded. "Okay."
"When was the last time you've ever been on a date?" I needed to know if what Amala said was true. Did the man really not make a conscious effort to be with anyone romantically and if so, why was I the exception?
"How is that relevant?"
"Nicolas," I said sternly. The light flickered to green and we began moving again.
He sighed loudly and scowled. "Christ," he said, the irritation clear as day. "Years ago, why are you asking me that question?"
"Curiosity." I bit my lower lip. "I'll go on a date with you, but you better not ask me where I'd like to go. I prefer men who can take initiative. "
"Wrong," he deadpanned and I looked at him sceptically. "The only man you prefer is me." The possessiveness should've made me run, but I was oddly attracted to it.
"You know what I meant."
"No I don't," he said curtly. "The day you allowed me to take you is the day you became mine. Don't forget it."