36. Audra
The next morning…
Thankfully, my walk of shame isn't very far. Just down the hall. But on wobbly legs like mine, it might as well be the entire strip. Shit, that was the best sex of my life. But… what the hell was I thinking?
Wait, no. I wasn't. That's the problem. From the moment Gabe cornered me against the wall until… yeah… I'm not even thinking right now. The things he did to my body? Hitting spots I didn't even know existed? No, Audra. NO! Just no. That's not what we're going to think about right now.
"Have you seen Mr. Fluffball?" My mother's voice nearly startles me into an out-of-body experience. "He got out and is out here somewhere."
"Uhm… no." I manage. Thankful for the lack of light right now.
But that doesn't last long. Bright lights turn on, illuminating me, my hair, which has to look like I've been through a hurricane because, let's be honest… Focus!
"Oh dear." Of course, this is the moment my mother decides to be fully lucid. Looking me up and down, she giggles. "Looks like someone enjoyed themselves."
"When did Mr. Fluffball get out?" I try to change the subject, which is usually easy with her cats.
Not today. Or not tonight. Or this morning. Whatever time it is.
"I've been looking for him all night. There were some weird noises and…" she stops, looks at me, and giggles again. "Okay, now I know what those noises were."
Why doesn't the floor open and pull me out of my misery?
Why doesn't Las Vegas have earthquakes? Or tornadoes?
I'd take either one right about now. Memories come unbidden.
Of my first boyfriend when I was fifteen.
We didn't have sex, not really, but he fell asleep in my bed, and Mom decided the next morning was the best time to open my door so one of her cats could come in.
To say I was mortified then is like saying losing your life savings on the Strip is a slight setback.
Compared to now? This is like losing everything…
and realizing I'm the one who placed the bet.
"Anyway," Mom continues, ignoring the color of my face, which probably matches the color of my hair right about now. A knowing smile plays along her lips. "You've never looked more like you than now, Audra."
I stare at her, flabbergasted. Of all the things she could have said, this is the last thing I would have expected. No, strike that. I would have never expected that line, because it implies she has been paying attention to me.
She shuffles over like an eighty-year-old woman, instead of one in her forties, and pats my arm. "Good for you. That man is good for you."
My mouth opens. And closes without any words coming out. I just don't know what to say.
"Oh, don't look at me like that. I had a life once, too, you know."
Right. She did. She's mentioned it a few times over the years.
"I was worried about you and those bikers… but I figured a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do," she prattles on.
Bikers? She knew?
"You knew about Razor?"
She rolls her eyes. "I might not have been the best mother, Audra, but I did pay some attention. I knew where you were most of the time."
And she let me go out into the desert? No, that might be unfair. She might have known some, but not the entire extent. I don't think.
"I love you, Audra. You've always been the most important part of my life. Never forget that."
Tears gather in my eyes. She's never said anything like that before. I mean ever. An unearthly scream interrupts the moment. The kind of scream only a cat can produce when truly startled and scared half to death, followed by a deep voice, shouting, "What the fuck?"
"Oh." Mom shuffles forward, surprisingly quick.
For a moment, I'm still rooted to the ground because… well, because not only has my life been completely turned inside out and upside down, and my mind is still a bit fuzzy from… yeah, the sex, but also, I'm still totally floored about what mom divulged.
A grayish white shadow flies by me, hissing and making a beeline for Mom's room.
That would be Mr. Fluffball. A male, wearing only briefs, briefs that do nothing to hide what he entertained me with all night long, follows.
That would be Gabe. His hair is a mess, and somehow, he looks more handsome than ever. Fuck me. Fuck my life.
Quit thinking about fucking, Audra.
Right, good advice.
Mom runs after Mr. Fluffball without sparing me a glimpse, and I'm left alone with Gabe. Who stares at me, wide awake now.
"Where did you go?"
"I'm… uh… back to bed?" Somehow my statement comes out more a question.
"The bed is that way." He points at his room.
I shake my head, trying to bring up some coherence. God knows I need it now more than ever.
"Gabe…" I manage.
"Audra?"
He walks over to me. His hand reaches up, and his palm cups my face. Shivers run down my spine, and a tingling spreads through my pussy. Damn my body. The touch is light. Tender.
"I know you're hurting. I know you're confused. But trust me, Audra… this is right."
My breath catches. Right? Nothing about this feels right. And yet, as his thumb brushes lightly along my cheek, my body betrays me all over again.
"I understand what you're feeling," he continues, his voice is low and soothing, like warm oil running down my back. "The confusion. The guilt." His gaze locks on mine, unrelenting, and I swallow. "But what's between us?" A slight shake of his head. "That doesn't lie."
My chest tightens.
"This—" he gestures faintly between us, like even he can't quite define it, "—this isn't something that just… happens."
I swallow again, feeling a lump move down my throat. He's right. I felt it too. Still do. That's the problem.
"I won't touch you again until you're ready," he adds, and there's something firm in that. A promise. "Not unless you want me to."
He waits a moment to let his words sink in. His hand drops from my face, like he's forcing himself to create distance. But his eyes don't let go.
"Last night wasn't just sex for me." The tendons on his neck strain, like the words don't come easily. Like he's not used to saying things like this. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling roughly.
"Fuck, Audra…" A humorless huff. "Yeah, it was the best sex of my life."
Heat rushes to my face.
"But it was more than that," he continues, more serious now. "A hell of a lot more."
Something shifts in his expression. Not softer. Just… real. That lump seems to be stuck right underneath my collarbones now. My eyes fill with tears, again.
"I'm not asking you for anything right now. Not decisions. Not promises." He takes a step back. Giving me space. "But I need you to understand something." His gaze pins me in place. "I'm not going anywhere."
My pulse stutters.
"I'll protect you," he promises. "I'll help you get through this." His eyes hold mine. "And whatever this is between us? It's not over."
He holds out his hand. "Now, come to bed."
It's not a question. It's a command. As much as I look, there is not a hint of insecurity in his gaze. A gaze that tells me where I'm going, even if he has to carry me. The only question is, will I make him?
I should. For various reasons. One, my body trembles at the thought of being in those strong arms again.
Two, just to show that I'm not an obedient dog.
Three, because my pussy is convinced that it will have a field day being carried over his shoulder.
Neanderthal style. Because, let's be honest, who doesn't want to experience that at least once in their lives?
Four, and this is the most important one, I don't trust myself to walk away again if I take that hand.
My eyes stay locked on his. On that waiting hand.
The one that seems so certain. Like this is already decided.
Like I'm already his. Shit, part of me wants to make him prove it.
Wants him to lose patience. To grab me, throw me over his shoulder like some caveman, and carry me back to his bed without my consent.
So I can tell myself it wasn't me. That it wasn't my choice.
That it just… happened. My pulse spikes at the thought. Traitor. I drag in an unsteady breath.
"If I come with you now…" My voice comes out quieter than I want it to. I clear my throat, try again. "I won't think."
His expression doesn't change. But I see it. That flicker of understanding. Or maybe recognition.
"I won't stop," I add, more honestly this time. "And I need to."
I hate how much effort this takes. How hard it is to say no when every nerve ending in my body is screaming yes.
"I need some space, Gabe," I continue, forcing the words out, even as my fingers twitch like they're considering reaching for him anyway. "Just… for tonight."
A heavy, charged silence stretches between us. His hand is still there. Waiting. He hasn't pulled it back. Hasn't forced the issue either. He's giving me the choice. Which makes this so much harder.
"Please," I add, softer now.
That does it. Something shifts in his gaze. Not disappointment. Not frustration. Something more controlled. More dangerous. Like he's filing this away. He lowers his hand slowly. The absence of it feels immediate. Cold.
"Tomorrow," he says.
Not a question. A promise. Or a warning.
I'm not sure which. My heart stutters. I nod.
Because tomorrow feels far enough away to deal with later.
Right now, I just need distance. Before I do something I won't be able to undo.
I take a step back. Then another. Creating space between us, even though I can still feel him.
Like gravity hasn't quite let go. I turn before I can change my mind.
Before I can step forward, instead. Before I can give in.