Chapter 20 #2
I burst into tears. Huge, ugly tears. They roll down my cheeks, and Gavin instantly gathers me into his arms. The cinnamon he always smells like hits my nose, and it makes me cry harder.
“Hey,” he says gently, rubbing my back. “Don’t cry, Nessa. Please, I hate it when you cry. It… It fucking hurts, okay?”
I love that it hurts. How sick is that?
“I’m sorry, I’m just…” I sniffle against him. “You made me an art room?”
He laughs softly. “Well, yeah. You mentioned the coffee shop was too loud, and it’s too cold and wet to be up on the roof, so I figured, why not? I’m not using this room for anything important, and you’ve already claimed the other room as your own personal closet, so it just made sense.”
I rub my eyes against his shirt, and it makes his chest rumble again.
I look at his blurry face. “You’re perfect, you know that?”
His mouth hitches up on one side. “I thought I was annoying.”
“That too. But also perfect.” I rise up, my lips ghosting over his. “Perfectly annoying.”
He kisses me first, his big hand cradling the back of my head as he holds me close, his mouth moving expertly over mine like he knows my body better than I do. I think he just might.
When we finally part, he grins. “Well? Want to take a closer look?”
I nod frantically. “Yes, please.”
He releases me, then ushers me into the gorgeous sage-painted room.
There are white shelves lining one wall, each cubby filled with different kinds of art supplies.
Pens, pencils, markers, paintbrushes galore…
everything. There are at least four different-sized sketchbooks, an easel that captures the little sunlight that’s poking through the clouds, and an oversized chair that could easily fit three of me tucked in the opposite corner.
A giant—and extremely expensive—drawing table sits in the middle of the room, a stool slid beneath it.
It’s topped off with a few faux plants to give it a lively look.
It’s breathtaking, and everything I could have ever wanted from a space like this.
“Gavin…” I choke back the sob that’s trying to work its way free. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”
“You deserve it.”
He says it so simply that I nearly believe him. I pull my gaze from the beautiful room and look at the man responsible for it. He’s leaning against the door, his hands in his pockets as he grins at me.
“When did you do all this?”
“I snuck stuff in while you were at work and stayed up late after games.”
He sacrificed his sleep for me? His game?
It makes me feel so damn lucky and absolutely horrible for thinking the worst of him.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly.
“Why?”
“Because I…” I wring my hands. “I thought… I don’t know what I thought, okay? I just felt like you were hiding something from me, and I didn’t like it.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize, Nessa. I was hiding something from you.”
“Yeah, but it was something sweet. That’s different.”
“No, it’s not. Not when you have the kind of past you do. I mean, that is where your mind went, right?”
I nod, hating the emotion that clogs in my throat. “Yeah.”
“I get it, and it’s fair. I should have told you I was working on something and asked you to keep out instead of just locking the door.”
“But—”
“No,” he says, pushing off the door and crossing the room to me. “No, no buts . That was my bad. Nessa?” He ducks his head to look me right in the eyes. “I’m not Neal. I’m not going to hurt you like he did. I…” He pauses, running his tongue over his lips. “I’m just not going to hurt you, okay?”
Something tells me that’s not what he was going to say, but I don’t question him. I’m too damn mortified by my behavior and too damn happy about my new art room.
“I know,” I tell him, meaning it. “I know.”
“Good.” He rises to his full height. “Now, how about we christen your new chair?”
He bounces his brows, squeezing my ass, and I laugh.
Then I’m not laughing at all because he kisses me, and it turns serious very quickly.
He strips me out of my clothes, and I do the same to him, then push him back until he falls onto the chair.
I climb over him, and we both groan as I sink onto his cock.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “God, I missed you.”
I laugh as I lift my hips, riding him slowly. “You just saw me this morning.”
“It wasn’t enough, imagine that.”
But I don’t have to imagine it. I know exactly what he’s talking about.
I missed him too, and I fear that may always be the case.
We started this as fun, but it’s become so much more than that.
I didn’t want it to. I didn’t want this to mean anything at all.
I just wanted to feel like I did in New York, but now…
Now, I feel taken care of. I feel cared for. I feel cherished.
I feel… loved .
Fuck, I feel so damn loved, and it’s scary as hell. I can’t feel loved because that would mean… That would mean I love him too, and that’s not possible. I cannot love Gavin Whitlocke. I can’t love anyone ever again. I’m too broken. I’m too much.
You’re not too much, Nessa. You’re just enough for me.
His words from before slip into my mind, and I squeeze my eyes shut against them.
“Look at me,” Gavin says, like he knows what I’m trying to do.
I peel them back open, meeting his heated stare.
“There she is,” he murmurs, and I swear he’s not just looking at me as I ride him.
He’s looking into me. Every part, even the dark and ruined ones.
He’s looking at everything I’ve been through, from losing my mom at a young age and the heartbreak that came with that, to what happened with Neal and all the damage after.
He’s looking at me like he loves me, and just like that, I’m hanging on the edge with just my fingertips, and if I don’t come soon, I might lose it. I know Gavin feels the same way.
“Love…” he warns when I swivel my hips again. “I need to come. Need to fill you up.”
“Then do it, Gavin. Give it to me. Fill me with your cum. I want to feel it dripping out of me.”
He growls, then places his feet on the oversized chair and grabs my wrists, putting my hands behind my back as he takes over from the bottom.
He drives up into me fast, my tits bouncing so hard it almost hurts, but I don’t care.
I want this too damn much, which is why when he leans forward and captures my nipple between his teeth, I explode.
“Yes, love, that’s it,” he says through gritted teeth as he continues to fuck me through it. “Squeeze my cock with your beautiful cunt. It belongs to me, remember?”
My whole body is racked with shudders as wave after wave hits me.
Just when I think I’m done, another one crashes into me, and it’s enough to set him off, too.
He spills into me with one last hard thrust, and I’m done.
Completely fucking spent. I crumple against him, and he holds me tightly, running his hand over my hair as we struggle for air.
We sit like that for a long time, taking in what just happened.
“Thank you.”
“For the orgasm? You’re welcome.”
I roll my eyes, which are growing heavier by the second. “No, Mr. Annoying. I meant thank you for the room. You have no idea how much this means to me, Gavin. It’s… Nobody has ever done anything like this for me. So, thank you. Thank you…”
For loving me.
I leave the words unspoken, letting them hang between us.
He swallows hard, and I swear he hears every one of them as he says, “You’re welcome, love.”
It’s the last thing I hear before I drift off to sleep, feeling happier than I have in a long, long time, and it’s all because of him.