18. Silas
CHAPTER 18
SILAS
I fall into the corner of the sectional, my favorite seat that allows me to stretch my legs out. Gwen sits beside me and I tug the ottoman over for her to use. When we’re both comfortable, I turn on the TV.
“This couch is massive.”
Smiling, I nod. “Isn’t it awesome? It’s one of my favorite purchases.”
“I’d think your motorcycle would be,” she says, her lips curving.
“I said one of my favorites. My bike is at the top. She was the first big purchase I made with prize money.”
“She?”
“Yep. My girl has gotten me through a lot.”
“I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle.”
“Would you like to? I’d love to take you out on mine.”
“I’m not opposed to it. I’ve never had the opportunity before. I don’t know anyone who owns one.”
“Well, now you do.” I wink. “What are you in the mood to watch?”
“This might surprise you but I like reality TV. Mostly because I can turn it on and it doesn’t matter if I’ve seen all the episodes.”
“That’s kind of funny because I’m also a fan of reality TV.”
She arches one of her dark eyebrows. “Are you just trying to make me like you more?”
“No, I’m serious. I like not having to pay attention to storylines. Sometimes when I come home from work, I’m so tired I don’t even want to think.”
“That’s what I like about it too. When I’m in the middle of a semester of school, the last thing I want to do is to have to focus on some complex plot. I just want to lose myself in brainless television.”
“Want to lose ourselves in some brainless television right now?” I ask.
She laughs. “Absolutely.”
I flip through the choices. “What do you think?”
“Ooh, that one,” she says when I pause on a show about each contestant finding their love match.
I start the show and drop the remote on the cushion. “Come here,” I say, urging her closer and wrapping my arm around her. I pull her over until we’re pressed together from our shoulders to our feet. Her bare leg so tiny next to mine, somehow seems symbolic of how opposite we are in many ways.
She’s sunshine and I’m a grump.
She’s delicate and I’m hard.
She’s innocent and I’m jaded.
She’s young and I’m old.
Despite all the differences, there are just as many similarities.
We’ve both suffered loss.
We’re both introverts.
We’re both passionate about our careers.
And the age difference is becoming less of a factor, the more time we spend together. In so many ways, Gwen is mature beyond her years, and I already have strong feelings for her. It’s difficult to constantly be fighting every physical and mental urge that I have telling me to hurry up and make her mine before she can slip away. For once in my life, I want to dive headfirst without carefully planning out every step. But I can’t do that. She’s suffered through enough, and if things ended poorly between us, it would be devastating—for both of us.
So, I’ll take my time with her and move at a snail’s pace because she’s worth however long it takes.
My fingertips trail up and down her arm as we watch the contestants arrive at the house they’ll be staying at and meet one another. I’m trying to pay attention to what’s being said, but Gwen’s soft skin is distracting me. And her arm isn’t the only part of her I want to be touching.
Snail’s pace, remember?
She shifts positions, rubbing her leg against mine. I’m assaulted with an image of her underneath me, our limbs sliding together as we kiss.
S.N.A.I.L’S P.A.C.E.
I spell it out to distract myself. With renewed focus, I watch the television screen. I’m finally settling myself down and starting to notice which couples are forming when Gwen swings her leg over me and straddles my lap.
“What are you doing?” I ask, sounding panicked.
She smiles. “I figured if you’re going to move at a turtle’s pace, I should speed things along.”
Actually, it’s a snail’s pace.
She leans forward and presses her lips to mine, cutting off any ability I have for rational thought. My arms curve around her back, pulling her closer, fusing our torsos together. Her lips part and my tongue slips inside to tease hers. My hands drop to her hips, gripping on to help her as she grinds down into my erection.
Jesus, I could come from this.
I feel the wet heat of her pussy through our gym shorts, and I’m overwhelmed with desire. I need to slow things down before I can’t. I flip our positions, placing her underneath me, and she lets out a squeak of surprise. I rub the tip of my nose against hers as my hand slips beneath her tank top. Her breath stutters against my lips as my palm sweeps up her ribcage, cupping her breast over her bra.
Her arms tighten around me and she whispers, “Yes.”
Moving to the other side, my fingertips trace over her nipple, but it’s not enough. Hovering above her, I study her face. “Can I remove your shirt?”
She smiles. “You don’t need to ask me, Silas. But just so we’re on the same page, you have my permission to strip me naked.”
Oh Christ.
I grip the hem of her tank top and she sits up, allowing me to tug it over her head. Next, I undo the hooks behind her back and her bra slips forward down her arms before she tosses it to the side. She lies back once more and stares up at me, her silvery eyes filled with endless trust I’m not sure I deserve. But I’m sure as hell grateful for it.
My gaze traces over every inch of her naked torso, and I shake my head with awe. “I’ve never seen anything so fucking beautiful. How are you even real?” I lower my head and rub my face in the center of her chest. Her hands clasp the back of my head, her fingers threading through my hair. My lips close around her nipple and my tongue circles the taut peak. She increases the pressure on my head, eager for more. I move over to feast on her other nipple, sucking and biting at the rosy flesh until she’s gasping beneath me.
My mouth makes a downward slide, kissing and nibbling until I reach the waistband on her shorts. Hooking my fingers into both sides, I drag them down as Gwen raises her hips.
“Where’s your underwear?”
“They’re built into the shorts,” she says, winking.
I back up and climb from the ottoman onto the floor. Grabbing her ankles, I yank her ass to the edge of the cushion and wedge my shoulders between her widespread legs.
Starting at her inner thigh, I alternate between kissing and playfully nipping her soft flesh. After I’ve paid equal attention to her other thigh, I work my mouth inward toward the promised land.
With the first swipe of my tongue, she gasps. Her sweet and tangy flavor hits my taste buds. “You taste incredible.” I delve back in for a longer taste, humming with satisfaction.
Slinging her legs over my shoulders, I bury my face between her thighs, lapping at every possible inch of her pussy. When I’ve soothed my immediate hunger, my focus shifts to her clit. My lips close around the swollen flesh and my tongue gently whisks around it, avoiding direct contact.
“Oh my God.” Her hands ball into fists and her hips rock against the rhythm of my tongue. “Don’t stop,” she whispers in a breathy sigh.
I slide two fingers inside her, pumping against her G-spot while the tempo of my tongue swirling around her clit increases. Her shaking thighs squeeze my head and cheeks. I stay on task until her orgasm slams into her and then I watch her trembling form as I coax every wave from her.
When she’s finished, she lets out a satisfied sigh while I lap every bit of my sweet prize from her pussy.
Once I’m done, I wipe my face on my t-shirt sleeve and climb onto the couch. I lift Gwen and move her up next to me so I can hold her in my arms.
I gently stroke her hair back from her face. “You’re incredible,” I say.
“I didn’t do anything but enjoy what you were doing to me.”
“Which is exactly what I wanted. There’s plenty of time for us to get the other things.”
I can’t fucking wait.
“What time do you need to be home?” I ask.
“I don’t have a curfew. But I can go if you want me to.”
My arms tighten around her. “You misunderstood me. I don’t want you to leave at all. Will you spend the night with me?”
She tips her head back so she can see my face, and smiles. “I’d love to spend the night with you.” I shut the TV off right before she adds, “Can we go to bed soon?” The words have barely left her lips when I’m already on my feet, scooping her up in my arms. “You don’t have to carry me,” she says, laughing.
I start walking. “Let me show off a little. I can’t use these muscles for fighting anymore but I certainly can carry my woman to bed.”
“Your woman? I like the sound of that.” She beams.
“Baby, you better believe you’re mine now.” I set her down on her feet next to the bed. “The bathroom is right through that door. There’s an extra toothbrush in the cabinet under the sink.”
Her arms slip around my waist and she squeezes me. “I… really like you.”
My arms fold around her. “I really like you too.”
We stay pressed together for a minute or so until she steps back. “I’m going to get ready for bed.” As she steps into the bathroom, I find a t-shirt and a pair of boxer briefs for her to wear, even though it’s a shame to cover up her body. But I’m sure she’ll be more comfortable with something on.