Chapter 11 - Lena #2
I open the door. Gabe stands on the other side with his hands in his jacket pockets. His hair is still damp from a shower. He looks tired but steady in that way only he knows how to carry.
"Hey," he says quietly. "I was passing by. Thought I'd check if you need anything fixed."
"I don't," I say, because pride is still a reflex.
"Let me look anyway."
I should close the door. I should tell him to go. Instead, I step back and let him in.
He walks to the pantry like he has lived here for years. He touches the door, tests the hinge, then crouches down and listens to the squeak. He asks for a screwdriver. I hand him the one from the drawer. He tightens the screws, presses the hinge again, and the squeak disappears.
"Done," he says.
"You didn't have to," I reply.
"I wanted to."
Before I can answer, Jace walks over with three toy cars in his hands. He stares up at Gabe like he is meeting a superhero.
"Do you like red cars?" Jace asks.
"I do," Gabe says, sitting on the floor without hesitation. "Which one's the fastest?"
"This one," Jace says, dropping the cars into his lap. "But he gets tired."
Gabe nods like this is the most important information he has heard all day. "Cars get tired sometimes."
Jace climbs into his lap and keeps talking.
He tells him about school and a friend named Rohan who brought a turtle-themed lunchbox and how everyone wanted to see it.
Gabe listens without checking his phone, without rushing him, without trying to correct him.
He nods, asks questions, and smiles when Jace laughs.
I stand in the kitchen doorway drying my hands again even though they are already dry. Something tight works its way into my chest. Watching them is easy and impossible at the same time.
Jace eventually slides off Gabe's knee and runs to the living room. "I'm gonna draw a dragon," he announces.
"You do that," Gabe says.
He stands and wipes his palms on his jeans. There is a quiet moment where he waits to see if I will say something. I don't. I am still gathering my breath.
"I'll go," he says softly.
"Okay."
He holds my eyes for a second longer than he should, then nods and steps outside. I close the door behind him, lean my back against it, and exhale like I have been holding air for hours.
Later, after Jace is asleep and the house is still, I sit on my bed with my knees pulled up.
The room is dim. The only sound is the ceiling fan.
I keep thinking about how he sat on my floor like it was the easiest thing in the world.
How he spoke to my son with care. How he fixed a door that did not need fixing just to make himself useful.
He hurt me. He did. There is no rewriting that. But there is also the man he was tonight. Quiet. Gentle. Present.
I pick up my phone without thinking. His name is at the top of my messages. My thumb hovers over the screen. I stare at it for a long time. Finally, I type.
Me: Still thinking about the other night. You fixed some things I didn't think needed any fixing.
The three dots appear almost instantly. My heart kicks hard.
Gabe: Yeah? What else needs fixing, Lena? Tell me.
Heat floods between my thighs. I shift on the bed, one hand already slipping under my waistband. This doesn't mean I've stopped being angry. I just… I exhale and tell myself I'll allow it tonight.
Me: My pussy. It's throbbing just remembering your cock slamming into me. I love how you fill me up.
Gabe: Fuck. Picturing you bent over that counter, ass red from my handprints, walls clenching my shaft like a vice. You screamed my name so prettily. Still dripping for me?
I bite my lip and slide two fingers along my folds, parting them wide. I'm soaked already, clit swollen and pulsing.
Me: My fingers in my panties right now, and they're soaked. Guess what I'm doing with them?
There's a second's pause, in which I imagine his expression.
Gabe: Tell me.
Me: They're spread wide, rubbing my clit slow, wishing it was your thumb grinding hard while you pound deeply.
Wow, who is this girl? I think to myself.
Gabe: Good girl. Circle that swollen clit. Dip two fingers in, pump them like my cock, and feel how tight you are. You're mine, my good little girl.
Anyone else calling me their good little girl would make me laugh, but something about the way Gabe even types the words makes a shiver run up my spine. I obey, plunging two fingers deep into my aching pussy, curling them against that spot he hit so perfectly.
Me: Yes sir. Curling them deep, hitting that spot you hit balls-deep. There's juices dripping down my thighs. My tits are heavy, nipples aching for your teeth. I'm imagining you biting them right now.
Gabe: Pinch those nipples hard, twist them until you whimper. Imagine me sucking one deep, teeth scraping while I fuck you missionary, legs over my shoulders, folding you in half so I grind your G-spot raw.
My free hand yanks up my shirt, fingers pinching my nipple viciously. Pain sparks straight to my core, making my walls flutter around my thrusting fingers.
Me: Fuck, Gabe. Pinching now, so hard it hurts good. My pussy's spasming. I need your cock stretching me, balls slapping my ass loud, choking me while you do it.
Gabe: If I were there, I'd put my hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to make you gasp and thrust my cock in and out, watching your tits bounce.
I gasp aloud, thighs clamping around my hand as I pump faster, thumb blurring over my clit.
Me: My fingers are flying faster, my thumb on my clit. The mirror view in my head—doggy, you yanking my hair, making me watch you own this cunt.
Gabe: Damn right. That mirror showed everything—your curves jiggling, ass rippling from my hips slamming, cock disappearing balls-deep into your stretched hole, how you begged me to fill you up. Say it now. Beg.
The command sends me spiraling. I add a third finger, stretching myself wide, hips bucking off the bed.
Me: Please, Gabe. Fuck me raw. Stretch this pussy, fill it with your thick cum, and pound me until I squirt on your shaft. Own me again. I'm so close, my thighs are shaking.
Gabe: Rub that clit faster. Three fingers now, fuck yourself deep and hard. Imagine me flipping you, legs wide, slamming home while I suck your clit. Come for me, Lena. Clench those walls like you're milking my load.
A sudden orgasm rips through me hard, and I cry out silently, biting the pillow.
Me: Oh God, coming! Gabe! Wish it was your cock throbbing inside me.
Gabe: That's my pussy. Fuck, you're killing me. Keep this up and I'll have to come over right now and fuck you proper.
I bite my lower lip, hard. And then, a second later, I type my answer.