Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
Allison
Ilean further back into the soft leather, letting the heated seats cocoon me in warmth.
His car smells like him—smoke and pine. I savor the warmth, the comfort, the calm.
His large hand rests protectively on my thigh and he keeps glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.
I can’t blame him after what just happened.
Gabriel was at my house mere minutes after I called him.
His voice was demanding and calm from the other side of the door as he told me to let him in.
After I undid the deadbolt and ushered him in swiftly, he just looked around, taking in the chaos.
He was exactly what I needed—protective and decisive.
He swept me in his arms, carrying me up the stairs and helping me pack a bag full of essentials.
We washed and bandaged my foot before he carried me to his car.
He didn’t say where we were going and I didn’t ask.
I just needed to get away. I didn’t even bring my phone.
“Are you hungry? Do you want me to stop for food?” he asks as the street lamps flash by out the window, pulling me from my thoughts. It must have started raining at some point, rivulets of water trail down the windows. “We can grab anything you want.”
“It’s okay. I’m not really hungry,” I offer with a soft smile. I didn’t think to grab my wallet. He’s done enough, I really don’t want to be any more trouble to him.
“Don’t do that.” His hand squeezes my thigh, tight enough to get my attention but not enough to hurt. “Don’t refuse because you think it’s polite, or some shit. If you’re hungry, we will get you food. It’s that simple.”
Part of me wants to argue, to tell him I’ll be fine. But a different part of me, one which is becoming louder and louder with each passing second, says he’s right—I’m hungry, so we should eat. I need to let go of what I should do and start doing what I want to do.
“Chinese,” I state suddenly, surprising even myself. Gabriel’s eyebrows fly up his forehead and a smile pulls up the corners of his lips. “I want sesame chicken and rice.” I let myself be selfish and opinionated for the first time in as long as I can remember. “And fucking egg rolls.” I add.
“Well, shit.” Gabriel laughs as his hand moves higher up my thigh. “I’ve created a monster. Anything else, Princess?”
I think for a minute. “Dr. Pepper,” I tell him with finality. “I can’t even remember the last time I let myself have a soda.”
He swiftly veers to the side of the road. The rain pelts against the roof of the car as we sit in silence. He pulls out his phone and taps away, placing our order. When he finishes and the phone makes a ping to signal the order went through, he pockets the phone and turns his body to face mine.
“I don’t have any money,” I warn him. “I left my wallet at home.”
Gabriel’s gaze flicks to my lips, and I swallow down the butterflies his heated stare elicits in me. “I’m sure there’s some way we can think of for you to pay me back.”
He reaches out, his palm cupping my cheek. He runs his thumb along my lip, rubbing tenderly. His eyes watch the path of his thumb, and even in the low light of the dark car, I can see the heat in his gaze.
“I think I’d like that,” I tell him before I let my tongue slide between my lips, flicking the tip of his thumb.
A low rumble rolls through his chest. “Behave, pretty girl,” he warns as he returns his hands to the wheel and signals to pull back out onto the road. “Or I’ll have to punish you.”
His tone suggests that his form of punishment wouldn’t truly be a punishment at all.
I squirm in my seat. Warmth fills my core and I realize just how much better Gabriel has made everything in a matter of mere minutes.
Maybe, despite how chaotic everything is in my life right now, there’s a light at the end of this tunnel.
“You live here?” I ask incredulously as I stare at the monstrous house ahead of us.
Through a clearing in the dense trees ahead, a house looms above. It’s a modern looking structure with more windows than walls. It’s sleek and elegant, yet somehow fun. I’m in awe. It’s exactly the type of house I would’ve picked if I was allowed to have a say.
“I told you.” He squeezes my thigh gently as he maneuvers the sleek black sports car down the twisty road with his left hand. “I own a cybersecurity business. That’s what pays the bills. The teaching is just for….fun.”
I scoff at him and he turns his head slightly to look at me.
“No one has ever called teaching teenagers fun,” I tell him as he smirks. “Rewarding? Sure. Meaningful? Absolutely. Fun? No.”
His eyes dart back and forth between me and the road as he speaks. “I had fun with you the other day in your classroom.”
The memory of his pierced cock sliding down my throat causes my face to heat. His hand slides up my thigh until he’s barely not touching where I ache for him.
“And I think you had fun too.” Gabriel runs his knuckles up the seam of my pants between my legs, pulling a needy whine from my lips. “Didn’t you?”
I can’t deny it. He had driven me wild with his bold pursuit of my pleasure. He’s so addicting, so consuming, that I’ve almost forgotten about the pain and anxiety of the night. I open my legs wider and he lets out a low growl.
“Later, pretty girl,” he says with a final squeeze of my thigh before placing his hand back on the wheel. “You need to eat first.”
I sag back in the warm leather. He’s not wrong, I am starving and exhausted.
The car slows as we pull up to a box outside a huge iron gate with spikes atop it.
Gabriel rolls down the window, cool damp air entering the car and sending shivers down my arm.
He reaches outside, punching in a code. A loud beep sounds out before the iron gates swing open slowly.
I notice cameras watching us inch forward inside the gates.
Nervousness radiates off the man next to me.
He always seems so smooth, so confident, but right now, he taps his fingers anxiously.
He pulls to a stop and quickly throws open the door.
Grabbing the Chinese from the back, he runs around to open my door.
I willingly take his hand, letting him pull me from the comfort of the seat and into the cold rain.
We run for the door, cool drops falling on my head, my shirt, my arms, soaking me in seconds.
I can’t help the peal of laughter that leaves my chest as I run through the rain.
Call it a release of tension, temporary madness, an adrenaline fueled moment of chaos—but I feel free, as if the weight of the world has lifted from my shoulders and I can just enjoy this moment.
I haven’t felt this way since I was a kid, spinning and swirling in the rain with no care of how wet and miserable I’d be later.
Carefree. I’m carefree at this moment. And I don’t want to let that feeling go.
Once he plugs in a code to the fancy computerized home entry, we duck into the warmth of the house and the door slams shut behind me.
I stand on his welcome mat, dripping water onto the dark wood floor.
I’d feel bad about the puddle I’m making, but I’m too awestruck by the home in front of me.
It’s huge. Open stairs lead up to a second story with a wide catwalk overlooking the open concept main floor.
Windows surrounded by dark metal make up the entire back wall of the home, showing off the beautiful views of the forest outside.
It smells just like him—masculine and woodsy.
It’s as if we’re somehow both in nature and inside.
The home is tranquil, modern, cozy, and unique.
It’s everything my beige, cookie-cutter home isn’t. And I love it.
“This is your home?” I ask for the second time tonight as my eyes roam to take in the space.
Gabriel stands before me, his dark hair plastered to his forehead due to the water weighing it down. He clutches the giant bag stuffed with Chinese food in his tattooed hand. Beneath his onyx locks, his blue eyes hold a small shimmer of uncertainty.
“Do you like it?” His tone is more vulnerable than I’ve heard him before. It’s endearing.
I take a few steps inside the home, taking in the airy space and all the small colorful details.
“I love it,” I finally reply as I flash Gabriel a wide grin. His shoulders visibly relax as he lets out a breath.
“Come on.” He holds out his hand and leads me through the house to the kitchen. The two-toned cabinets are somehow warm and modern; the high-end appliances look as if they’ve never been used. “Let’s get you warmed up and fed.”
I take a seat on one of the barstools that sit at the end of the massive island while Gabriel moves around the space.
He pulls down plates and starts to unpack the containers of sweet and savory goodness.
I watch as he fills my plate high with rice, noodles, and chicken.
I smile gently, realizing that I’m content to just be here, with him, in this moment. It’s nice.
When was the last time I felt this at ease?
“So, how does a genius tech expert like you end up with a place like this?” I ask him as he moves to grab me a clean fork from a drawer behind him and places it on my plate. He slides the food across the island to me. “Did you build this house for an ex or what?”
I can’t help the slight tinge of jealousy that colors my tone. I know it’s silly. I’m married. But I don’t like the thought of another woman being important to him.
“No,” he responds as he starts dishing up his own food. “I, uh—” he stumbles over his words slightly and I can’t tell if he’s nervous or uncertain. “Hired a decorator. She did all this.”
When his plate is also loaded, he prowls around the island and takes a seat on the stool next to me.
“But why here?” I push. “Why not the city or something?”
He makes a noise of disgust. “I hate the city. Too many people. Too much noise.” His shoulders shrug as he scoops a bite of food onto his fork. “It’s peaceful here.”
I understand exactly what he means. Seattle is nice for a day, for an event, but it’s loud and dirty. And the traffic is fucking unbearable.
“What about you?” he asks between bites. “What brought you out here?”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “I moved here in high school and just never left.” The half-truth rolls easily off my tongue after years of practicing the same story. It’s not really a lie, more like an omission.
“But why the move in high school?” he questions.
Most people don’t ask.
My pulse quickens and my palms start to sweat. My fork slips from my hand and clatters loudly to the floor. The sound is deafening in the silence that stretches between us.
“Here, I got it,” Gabriel offers as he bends to pick up the fork.
I slide off my stool, seeing my out. “Actually, I’m getting kind of full,” I lie. “Could I maybe borrow a sweatshirt to change into? I’m freezing.”
Gabriel rises to his full height and crowds into my space. He towers above me, his icy eyes searching my face. He’s not just assessing me, it’s as if he’s staring straight into my soul.
“Of course,” he relents. “Upstairs. Turn left at the top of the landing. Last door in the hallway. Grab anything you want out of the closet.”
I don’t wait for him to change his mind or ask any more questions.
I spin on my heel and head for the stairs.
The open design makes me feel like I’m ascending into the air.
It’s somewhere between cool and eerie. If I weren’t so eager to put space between myself and the man downstairs with questions that I’m not ready to answer, I’d take the time to truly enjoy the home.
Instead, I pound up the stairs and down the hallway without a glance over my shoulder.
I hate that my past still controls my present so intensely, but sometimes it’s easier to run away from your problems than it is to face them.
I should know, I’ve been running for a long time.
I follow his directions into a large bedroom at the end of the hallway.
The space pulls the air straight from my lungs.
It’s gorgeous. Large vaulted ceilings make the space look huge.
More of the same dark floors continue in here but the walls are a cool gray-blue color that make it seem calm.
In the center of the room is a huge four-poster bed with a collection of multi-textured blankets and pillows.
Nothing matches and yet everything flows to create an eclectic space that screams comfort.
To the left is a set of French doors that lead to a large balcony.
On the right side is a wall with two doors.
One of the doors seems to be a bathroom from what I can see. The other looks to be a walk-in closet.
I pad across the room hesitantly. Despite my earlier urge to escape the kitchen, being in Gabriel’s room, his private space, feels vulnerable.
The area rug on the floor is plush beneath my bare feet.
I’m glad I took my shoes off by the door, this room is too nice to mess up.
The closet is roomy and bright, full of empty shelves.
His clothes barely take up a third of the space.
Who else is all this empty space for?
It’s none of my business, but I can’t help but wonder and poke around. My curiosity gets the best of me, and I start opening drawers and peeking through his clothes. It’s all dark and masculine. His scent—pine and smoke—is almost overwhelming in this confined space.
My clothes are still damp and cold. I peel the wet denim down my legs, leaving it in a pile on the floor.
Next, I shimmy out of my musty shirt, leaving me in just my cotton bra and underwear.
My fingers run over the clothes hanging around me.
I pause and pull out a soft black cotton sweatshirt that’s on a hanger.
I can’t seem to help myself as I bury my nose in the dark fabric, inhaling his masculine scent.
It sends a shiver of pleasure quaking through my body.
Goosebumps ripple across my exposed flesh.
“Well, well, well,” a deep voice rumbles from behind me. My heart stutters in my chest. “What do we have here?”