27
EMERSYN
I woke before Gabe did. I’d slept better than I could remember ever sleeping before, possibly due to how many times Gabe had exhausted me. I didn’t have any dreams. I didn’t lie awake with thoughts racing through my head. I wasn’t plagued by memories to the point that I felt I needed to get back up and drown them in alcohol.
I’d stolen most of the sheets during the night, and Gabe lay stretched out on the mattress, his naked body on full display.
He could have been the inspiration for a statue of a Greek god—Adonis, maybe. I couldn’t remember any of the others, which was probably why I always compared Gabe to him. However, there was one aspect of him that strayed greatly from the typical smaller depictions.
The feminine and masculine clashed within him. His long, flowing hair contrasted with the tight contours of his body. The curve of his long lashes contrasted with the sharpness of his jawline. The pink swelling of his lips stood out against the harsh stubble that dusted his chin. I sighed and reached out to trace the outline of his mouth with my finger. Even back when I was fighting my attraction to him, my gaze always lingered on his lips. I’d spent so long in denial; it was freeing to finally let my infatuation loose.
But despite everything Gabe had said, despite every ounce of forgiveness and compassion he’d shown me, one thought kept nagging at me: now that he had been with me, would he still want me? How much of those playboy rumors were true? Having achieved his conquest, would he lose interest and turn away? Would my judgment prove Conrad right? Was I nothing more than a foolish, na?ve girl?
To test that theory, I lowered my head and kissed him hesitantly. Gabe stirred, his hand reaching out until he found me and tugged me close. I rested my cheek on his chest, letting my eyes fixate on his cock, which was hardening as I watched. I felt a little silly when relief flooded through me.
“Morning,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss against my head.
“Morning.” I dipped my head lower down his torso, the desire to taste him sweeping through me. Desire. It was a strange thing. With Conrad, I’d hated taking him in my mouth. It felt too dirty. Too wrong. And he never seemed to want it anyway. But now the urge was all-consuming. Gabe lazily rubbed my arm as I continued to drag my head slowly down his body.
“Did you sleep well?” I was dangerously close to him now, letting my breath wash over his hardness as I spoke. His cock twitched. I sighed, and it twitched again. The desire to taste him increased. I was surprised at the warmth blooming between my legs merely at the thought of it.
“Careful,” Gabe warned as his cock surged again.
Ignoring him, I poked out my tongue and slid it over the tip of him. Gabe sucked a breath between his teeth. I laid my head on his stomach and trailed my fingers down his thighs. His cock responded with each stroke, even though I didn’t touch it.
I tormented him, dragging my nails across his flesh, feeling him writhe and twist, twitch and bounce. Gabe’s hand wound into my hair, tugging gently but also hesitantly. After a few seconds, his grip loosened, but he still left it there, twisted in my hair, gingerly cradling my head.
Tentatively, I reached out and touched him. He was both soft and hard, sensitive and tough. Wrapping my fingers around him, I slid them up and down, my own arousal rising as moans escaped his lips. Lowering my head further, I took him in my mouth. Gabe’s hips jerked. He unwound his fingers from my hair and gripped the sheets instead. The muscles of his stomach tightened.
I shifted, turning to lie between his legs so I could look up at him as I slid my lips further down his shaft. Desire made me bold. Gabe’s eyes rolled back as I explored him. I licked from base to tip. I rolled my tongue around his girth and felt him shudder. His eyes became hooded when I opened wide and took more of him in my mouth. His breathing hitched when I began to suck up and down.
Gabe reached down and tried to pull me away, warning me he was about to come. But I shook my head, lips still wrapped around his cock, and sucked harder, surprised at how turned on I was from the feel of him in my mouth.
I felt him come. I felt the surge of it, the pulses as he spilled, and it hit the back of my throat. I swallowed without thinking; the saltiness tasted better than I thought it would.
Gabe just lay on his back, chest heaving, hands pressed to his forehead. “Well, that’s one hell of a way to wake up.”
I crawled up his body and plastered myself over him much like he’d done to me the night before. His heart pounded beneath my ear. His skin was warm and slick, dusted with the faintest beading of sweat. And I wanted him. Again. I wanted to taste him, touch him, feel him inside me. I wanted to kiss him and caress him. I wanted him so badly it physically hurt.
I’d never felt this way before. Ever. Even in high school, my nickname was ‘Ice Queen’ because no boy could fluster me. When I first started falling for Conrad, I thought it was because he was a man, not a boy. But the further we got in our relationship, the more I realized that wasn’t true.
At the beginning, sex with Conrad was exciting. Thrilling, even. There was the appeal of rebelling against what I thought my parents wanted, the allure of the forbidden. And as foolish as I later realized it was, I felt powerful knowing that he chose me over his fiancée. I don’t even remember her name. That’s how little I considered her. I thought of her only as some abstract rival. But I never truly wanted sex. I never felt turned on. It was a way to please Conrad. And later it became an obligation to keep him happy. I never complained, even when it was uncomfortable at times, verging on painful.
But now . . .
Now I was desperately horny.
There was no other word for it.
I wanted sex.
I wanted sex with Gabe.
I sighed deeply. There were parts of me throbbing for attention—parts I never knew could throb. Gabe tucked a finger under my chin, tilting my head upward, and then he kissed me. I moaned; his lips were so soft, so addictive.
“I suppose we’d better get up,” I groaned into his mouth.
“Soon,” Gabe murmured before kissing me harder.
I wanted to grind against his thigh, but I was a little nervous to let him see how desperate I was. Gabe sensed my need. He rolled me onto my back and hovered over me. He kept his mouth against mine, rolling our tongues together as his fingers slipped between my legs. Then he just watched me, the slightest grin on his face as I came undone within seconds.
“Now we can get up,” he said, placing a final peck on the tip of my nose as I lay panting. Jumping to his feet, I admired the view as I watched him saunter to the bathroom. I heard the hiss of water as he turned on the shower and steam seeped through the open doorway.
Last night didn’t exactly go the way I’d planned. I didn’t get to tell him the truth, not the whole truth, but I would when the time was right.
“I’ve got to head into the gym. Want me to drop you at your place on the way, or do you want to just hang here until I get back?” Gabe yelled over the noise of the water.
The offer was tempting. Here there were no flatmates. Here there was plenty of hot water, and I was sure all the elements on the stove worked. And there was heating. Glorious heating. But I had my next appointment with Jake at the gym, and I needed to change into the clothes back at mine.
Wrapping the sheet around me, I walked into the bathroom and leaned against the rough concrete wall. “Just drop me at mine.”
Gabe turned around slowly. “Are you perving on me, Miss Cabot?” he asked as he flexed, striking different poses with his body.
I shook my head, feigning nonchalance. “Not at all. It’s the steam. It’s good for the lungs.”
Gabe winked and turned off the water. “All yours if you want it.” He grabbed a towel and rubbed it vigorously over his head. “I would join you, but I know I’d get distracted and end up late for work. Again. And then Jake would kill me.”
“And I wouldn’t want to be responsible for your death.”
I dropped the sheet and strolled past him, stepping into the large shower. Gabe groaned and turned to follow me, but I shut the glass door and stuck out my tongue. Gabe smooshed his face against the glass and ran his hands down it, creating a screeching sound.
“I think I’ll call in sick,” he said.
“Don’t you dare. I’m not going to have Jake hate me because you didn’t show up for work.”
He groaned again as I lathered the soap in my hands and rubbed it over my breasts. “Lord, give me strength to abstain from this sin,” he said, shaking his head and laughing at his own joke.
Gabe dropped me off with plenty of time to make it to the gym without being late. The house was strangely quiet, so I took advantage of the situation and crawled into bed, wanting to catch up on the sleep I’d missed the night before. But I’d barely closed my eyes when my door flung open, and Tara flopped onto the bed beside me.
“Spill,” she demanded.
“About what?” I asked, my words muffled by the pillow.
“About the fact that you didn’t come home last night. And about the fact that a certain someone dropped you off.”
I pretended to be annoyed, but the truth was I couldn’t wait to share the news with someone.
“Come on!” Tara whacked me with a pillow when I took too long to answer.
“Okay, okay.” I sat up. “No need to resort to violence.” I sat cross-legged and hugged the pillow to my chest, grinning stupidly.
“You fucked him, didn’t you?” Tara spat out. “I knew it. I just knew it. Was it good? Was he good? Tell me everything.”
“Let’s just say that I experienced things I’ve never experienced before.”
“I knew Conrad was a lousy lay.”
“Or maybe Gabe’s just really, really good.” I twisted my grin into a knowing smirk.
“So you told him everything then? You apologized for being a complete ass to him the other day?”
“We talked, yes, but then we kind of got distracted with other things.”
“But he knows about the blog?”
“I’ve deleted it.”
“It’s on the internet, Emmy. It’s out there; you can’t delete shit off that thing.”
I sighed. “I know, and I will tell him, it’s just—”
Tara rolled her eyes. “You’ve been distracted.”
“I’ve been distracted,” I repeated, letting another stupid grin spread across my face. “And I’ve never been so well distracted in my whole life. I was so well distracted that all I want to do is sleep, so get out of my room, would you?”
“Only if you promise to give me details later.”
“I promise,” I lied.
Tara was right. Even though I’d deleted everything from my site, it didn’t mean it wasn’t still out there somewhere just waiting to be found. I needed to tell Gabe before he stumbled across it. At least I never wrote under my name. There was a chance that the writings of E. Blaire would never be associated with me. I never legally changed my name to take on Conrad’s, so technically, I never was E. Blaire. It was nothing more than a pseudonym.
I was going to plot the best way to tell him in my mind before falling asleep, but the next thing I knew, the alarm on my phone was blaring, letting me know it was almost time to meet Jake at the gym. I didn’t really need the appointment anymore, but I thought it would be strange if I canceled after missing my last one, so I dragged myself out of bed, buoyed by the thought that I’d get to see Gabe again.
I took the bus to the gym and arrived two minutes late. Jake was standing at reception, his foot tapping the floor impatiently.
“You actually made it this time.”
“I’ve only missed one appointment,” I replied, attempting to smile sweetly at him while scanning the area for any signs of Gabe.
“You’ve missed one out of four. That’s twenty-five percent no-show. Not a good start.”
“Or is it a seventy-five percent attendance rate?” I countered.
Clearly unimpressed, Jake picked up a device from the counter, frowning heavily as he tapped the screen. He wasn’t having the best of days. “You ready? Let’s go.”
I think Jake’s mission was to punish me. I ran, did squats, and then he made me do these things called burpees, which are nothing but pure torture.
“Ten more,” he barked, as I stood curled over and gasping for air.
“I haven’t got ten more in me,” I whined.
“Yes, you have. Go!”
I let out a strangled cry as I threw myself to the ground, attempted to get back up, failed, and then just lay there moaning.
“Come on.” Jake clapped. “Get up. Nine more to go. The longer you lie there, the longer it’ll take to get them done. Snap, snap!”
“This isn’t the freaking army,” I groaned.
Jake grunted. “You’re right about that. If it were, there’s no way you’d be here. You’ve got no endurance whatsoever, and you’re shit at following commands.”
“Are you this mean to all your clients?”
“You think this is mean?” Jake scoffed. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Color flooded my cheeks as the memory of Gabe saying those exact words to me the night before washed over me, and right on cue, he walked in. Gabe leaned against the wall, arms crossed in a way that emphasized his biceps, cocked his head to the side, and smirked at me still lying on the floor.
“What’cha doing down there?” he asked.
“Burpees,” I groaned.
“She’s just lying there complaining,” Jake grunted.
Gabe’s grin widened. “Well, she wasn’t last night.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “I’m not doing this.” He walked away.
“I thought you said you weren’t done with me!” I called out.
“I am now,” he threw over his shoulder.
Gabe extended his hand and pulled me to my feet. “Hey,” he purred, letting his gaze fall over my tight-fitting clothing.
“Hey,” I replied, raking him with my gaze.
“You can’t be ogling me like that here,” he scolded playfully.
“Me? What about you?”
Gabe waved his hands over his body. “Nothing but pure professionalism here.”
“Maybe you can teach some of that to your brother. I believe he just left me in the middle of a session.”
“You were just lying there.”
“I was doing burpees!” I insisted. “How much longer do you have left in your shift?”
Gabe glanced at the clock on the wall. “Another hour.” He pulled me aside, out of Jake’s line of sight. “Look, sorry about Jake. I know he’s being an ass, but he’s all stressed about the baby and stuff. He used to have fighting as an outlet, and now he’s trying to channel it by working out like a demented person. Obviously, it’s not working.”
Jake started to wander back, so we pulled apart. He held a peeled avocado in his hand and was biting into it like an apple. “You two done eye-fucking each other yet?”
I choked on my laughter. “Ahh, sure?”
“Ten burpees,” he demanded.
“But I did one.”
“Ten,” he grunted again.
I sighed, flung Gabe a grin over my shoulder, and performed a perfect burpee.
“Good,” Jake said between mouthfuls of avocado. “Now only nine more.”
I think I died, as I have no memory of completing all the burpees, but soon I heard Jake mutter that it was the last one.
“Come over here,” he said, jerking his head. “I want to try one more thing.”
“Are we not done yet?” I whined.
“I promise this will be it.” He licked his fingers clean.
I followed him into a different room of the gym, and Jake stopped in front of a punching bag. Placing his device on the ground, he pummeled the bag with short, powerful jabs.
“Now you try.”
“I’ve never punched anyone.”
Jake just blinked in disbelief, then shook his head. “Stand here.” He physically moved me into the position he wanted. “Now watch the bag, okay? Your punches follow your eyes. When you punch the bag—and I mean punch, not push—imagine you’re punching through the bag. Keep your balance. Don’t fall forward with the punch. Keep your feet like this.” He demonstrated. “And don’t forget to breathe.”
He stepped behind the bag and held it steady.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” he confirmed. “Now punch the damn thing.”
I did. I was surprised at how heavy it was and also the thrill that rushed through me.
“Good!” Jake looked surprised. “Do it again. Keep your hands up high. That’s it. Now go, do a few in a row.”
I let the punches fly, the exertion peppering sweat on my brow. But I couldn’t help but smile.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?”
I nodded as I puffed. “Really good. I almost think I might like this sort of exercise.”
Jake snorted. “I knew we’d be able to find something you’d like.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing all this time? Trying to find something I’d enjoy?”
Jake nodded.
“Strange. I thought you were just torturing me.”
I was exhausted by the time my workout was done. I think Jake wanted to inflict pain. After the boxing, he stood over me and timed how long I could hold a plank. I tried telling him it wasn’t something I enjoyed, but he just called me pathetic. His training style was certainly interesting.
“By the way,” Jake said as I lay panting on the floor, “thanks for recommending us to your friend. He’s coming in for his assessment on Monday.”
“My friend?” I hadn’t recommended the gym to anyone.
“Yeah.” Jake consulted his device. “Conrad Blaire? He said you told him to check us out.”