Chapter 11 Zalea | Florence
ELEVEN
ZALEA | FLORENCE
“So you’re quitting surfing,” Gabriel says after a long stretch of silence, “because you might not be able to have kids one day?” He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t understand what those two things have to do with each other.”
I look away, disappointment settling in my chest. A normal person might offer sympathy, or maybe say something reassuring. But even now—after everything—surfing is still the axis Gabriel’s world spins on.
“I don’t want to look back on my life and only have surfing to show for it,” I say. My heart is hammering as the pressure builds in my chest.
“So then do you even actually want kids, Z?” he asks, brows furrowed. “Because right now it just sounds like you need a break from competitive surfing to find something else you’re good at.”
“I don’t know what I want, Gabriel,” I say, standing up. “That’s why I’m here. To try and figure out if I’ve just been using surfing as a crutch. A way to fill all my free time so that I don’t have to think about what a future outside of that could look like.”
“But you love surfing,” he says, genuine confusion threading his voice.
“No,” I shake my head, standing up. “I loved surfing.”
And somewhere along the way—when he chose it over me—I started hating it without realizing.
“What changed?” He crosses his arms, leaning back against the wall, brow still furrowed.
I don’t answer right away as I search for a version of the truth that won’t crack me open. Gabriel doesn’t need the whole thing. It wouldn’t change how he feels, or how I’ve felt all this time.
“I think it just feels lonely now,” I say finally. “It’s not the same for me anymore.”
“Easy fix.” He straightens, clapping his hands once. “Rejoin the Saltwater Shredders. You probably just miss being part of a team.”
I scoff and walk past him to the window. “That team made me miserable.”
“I promise it’s different now,” he says quickly. “Your brother and I barely argue anymore.”
“It wasn’t just that, Gabriel,” I say quietly. “It was you too.”
His head snaps back. “Me?”
“Being around you all the time after what happened…it was too hard.”
“Zalea, if you’re talking about the abortion, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. You know I already had the tour—”
My blood runs cold and I squeeze my eyes shut to try and force away the nausea that hits me. “I don’t want to talk about this,” I cut in.
Everytime I’m reminded of that day, it makes me sick to my stomach. I rush toward his door, almost making it before his hand closes around my wrist, pulling me to a stop.
“Okay,” he says softly behind me. “We won’t talk about it.”
I quietly let out a deep breath, willing the feeling of panic to go away.
“Not tonight,” he adds.
I swallow the lump forming in my throat and let him pull me back against his chest. He sweeps my hair over one shoulder, baring my neck, and I close my eyes as his lips press to my skin in a gentle kiss. He knows this is exactly what I need; a distraction from the chaotic storm in my head.
“Tell me you missed me,” he murmurs, his mouth skimming along my neck as he speaks. “Tell me you won’t disappear again.”
When I don’t say anything, his hand slides around my waist and slips beneath my shirt, warm fingers tracing upward until they find the edge of my bra.
He tugs it down roughly, a sharp contrast to the softness of his mouth still working over my skin, and my body arches instinctively as his fingers circle my nipple, teasing and possessive.
I bite down on my lip, fighting the sound rising in my throat because this is exactly how he always gets me. Exactly how I forget everything I swore I wouldn’t.
Gabriel grabs onto the hem of my shirt and lifts it over my head before swiftly unclasping my bra. He slowly traces a finger down my bare torso until he reaches the waistband of my skirt and tugs it down until it pools at my ankles, followed by my underwear.
I turn in his arms and kiss him desperately, as if I’ve been holding my breath for years and he’s the only air left.
I don’t bother fussing with his shirt as I reach for his belt and undo it, yanking it out of the loops and abandoning it on the floor beside us before I undo the button and zipper and yank his pants down with his boxers, his already hard cock springing free.
He makes a low sound in his throat and holds me tighter, backing me toward the bed like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go.
Everything about him feels familiar in the most dangerous way. The way his hands know exactly where to go, the way my body responds before my mind can even catch up. My skin hums under his touch, every nerve lighting up as if it’s been waiting for this moment before coming back to life.
I should stop this. I know I should. This is not helping me reinvent myself. In fact, it’s sucking me back into my old ways. But the second the backs of my knees hit the mattress and he follows me down, the thought slips away, drowned out by my aching need.
Gabriel presses his forehead to mine, breathing hard, like he’s trying to ground himself. When he finally pulls back, his gaze tracks every change in my expression, every shallow inhale, like he’s cataloging the ways I’m already coming undone.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs.
I don’t say anything, hating that he notices. His thumb brushes the corner of my mouth and I part my lips without thinking. His eyes darken with approval and hunger all wrapped together in one.
“Still can’t help yourself,” he says quietly. “Even now.”
I cover my face with my hands, embarrassed at how easily my body responds to him, and he pulls them away before leaning down just enough to kiss me once.
Soft and teasing as if telling me to stop overthinking.
Then he pulls back again, denying me more, and watching the frustration flare across my face as a needy whimper slips from my lips before I can stop it.
“There it is,” he murmurs. “That sound is exactly what I’ve missed hearing.”
“Gabriel,” I breathe, half warning and half plea.
He smiles, lowering his mouth to my neck and trailing a torturous path, lips barely brushing my skin, like he’s savouring every inch of me. I buck my hips under him, restless and needy, but his hand immediately clamps down on my waist.
“Easy, Red,” he warns in a low voice. “You don’t get to rush this after disappearing on me like that.”
The words send a shiver straight through me as his hand slides from my waist to my underwear, gently shifting it to the side before his fingers sink into my wet entrance. I gasp sharply, my head tipping back against the mattress.
“There you go,” he murmurs, pleased. “Let me hear you.”
My breath turns uneven as he works his fingers in and out, broken sounds slipping from my lips before I can swallow them back, and he smiles as he listens.
I grab onto his shoulders, nails biting into his muscle as I try to ground myself because I can already feel myself drifting into a state of bliss.
He shifts, his fingers pressing into me from a new angle, and the pressure coaxes sharp gasps from me. It feels so overwhelming, but also so familiar in the most unholy way.
I bite my lip, trying to hold myself together, but he notices and presses his thumb into my chin firm enough to force me to release it.
“Don’t,” he says. “I want to see it. All of it. I want to see you fall apart.”
The sound that leaves me is so needy and entirely humiliating, but he groans in response, forehead dropping to my shoulder as his breath goes uneven.
“You have no idea,” he mutters, “how hard it was not to think about this. About you. About how you fall apart when I take my time.”
He returns his mouth to mine, slower than before, claiming me inch by inch. He kisses me until my thoughts blur, until I’m clinging to him, until the only thing I can focus on is how desperately I want more, and how cruelly patient he’s being about giving it.
He pulls back just enough to speak again. “Tell me,” he says softly “Tell me you want me.”
I don’t answer him right away. Instead, I slide my hand up his chest, feeling his breath hitch under my palm. I see surprise flicker across his features when I don’t give him what he’s expecting.
“Get off me,” I say quietly.
A beat of silence stretches between us as his brows knit together. “What?”
I press my hand to his chest and push. He hesitates for half a second before rolling off of me onto his back, his eyes never leaving mine, curiosity warring with frustration.
I swing my leg over him and settle astride his hips, letting him feel the change in control.
“Fucking hell,” he says when he realizes I’m turning the tables.
“There,” I murmur. “That’s better.”
His hands twitch at his sides like he’s fighting the instinct to grab me, and I love every second of it.
“No hands,” I warn, and he exhales through his nose, jaw tightening, but he obeys and slides them flat against the mattress.
“Good boy,” I purr, leaning forward to kiss him and pull back before he can deepen it. “You don’t get to rush this,” I say, echoing his words back to him.
His blue eyes darken again. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Zalea.”
I smirk, slowly shaking my head. “No,” I say. “I’m just reminding you who’s in control.”
My mouth traces his jaw and his throat, deliberately avoiding anywhere that could give him relief. I take my time, just like he did, dragging my lips over his skin. His breathing turns ragged and he shifts his hips instinctively, but I press down just enough to stop him.
“Stay,” I warn.
He makes a strained sound as he frowns at me. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
“You’re right,” I say simply.
I sit back up, palms resting on his chest, watching him realize he doesn’t get to lead tonight.
“You want to hear me say I want you,” I continue, calmly. “But you already know that, Gabriel.” I lean down, my mouth hovering over his ear. “What you don’t know,” I whisper. “Is how long I’ve wanted this.”
I roll my hips, deliberately slow, feeling his hard length press against me through his boxers.
“Look at you,” I murmur. “Still trying so hard not to move.”
His jaw clenches tighter, eyes locked on my face. “You’re pushing it.”
I tilt my head. “I didn’t tell you to speak.”
His mouth closes instantly, but there’s no anger, just heat and want. I lean forward, palms pressing into his chest, my mouth hovering just above his, but I don’t kiss him.
“Good,” I say after a moment. “You learn fast.”
His breath stutters at the praise, his fingers curling helplessly into the sheets like he’s holding himself back by force alone and I can’t hold back my grin.
“God,” he exhales. “You’re incredible.”
“Quiet, Gabriel,” I warn.
His eyes shift with challenge and hunger before he nods once, submissively.
I trail my fingers up his throat, feeling him swallow beneath my touch. “You like knowing you’re not in charge,” I say, grinding down on his throbbing length.
His voice is rough when he answers. “I like that it’s you.”
I pause, letting the words sink in. “What do you mean?”
“You’re perfect like this,” he breathes. “Confident and untouchable.”
I lean down, finally granting him my mouth, but when I feel him trying to deepen the kiss again I pull back.
“You don’t get to take,” I remind him. “You get to receive.”
An unrestrained groan tears out of him this time. “Please, Zalea,” he begs now.
I smile wickedly, loving the sound of him begging. It’s a nice change.
“Okay,” I say. “Since you asked so nicely.”
I slowly slide my body down until my face hovers over his hard length, restrained by his boxers. Lifting my gaze to eyes, I hook my fingers into the waistband and draw the material down just enough for his thick cock to spring free.
The look on Gabriel’s face is intoxicating as he watches me lower my mouth to the tip, his jaw clenched and hands fisted into the sheets. I take my time, placing gentle kisses before sliding my tongue from base back to tip, and plunging it deep into my mouth.
He tastes both sweet and salty, and I can’t get enough.
I fight a smile as I hear his breath hitch, and his control finally slips when he lifts his hand to my hair, holding it out of my face.
It doesn’t take long for his hips to buck in response, becoming more frenzied by the second, and when his body stiffens and he groans while his release spills into my mouth, I swallow it all, not breaking eye contact.
“I don’t stand a chance with you,” he murmurs, his head dropping back against the mattress.
I lift myself back up to his face, planting a soft kiss. “I know.”
Gabriel pulls me into his side to cuddle while we catch our breaths, but being in his arms is so comfortable I can’t help but close my eyes and doze off.