Chapter 10
Joss
I feel sick. Actually nauseous. Gabe’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel, as are the ones on my thigh. I think he wants the touch to be calming, but he’s too pissed to be comforting.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper once we’re out of the parking lot and heading toward the suburbs and I finally find my voice again.
“Don’t—” he snarls, only to cut himself off short. He takes a deep breath, rubs his palm on my thigh to loosen his fingers, and starts over. “That voice wasn’t for you. It was for Evan. And Emily and everyone else. Don’t apologize for them and don’t apologize for what your husband did.”
“He was a monster. You have no idea.”
He laces our fingers together on the console between us. “I’m not very smart. I do and say a lot of dumb things. But one thing I do know is people who are horrible, it’s the ones closest to them who get hurt the most, whether it’s because they’re the biggest victims or because they’re the ones who get destroyed by the fallout. Sure, sometimes their loved ones are in on it, but that’s not you. No way.”
“How do you know that?” He’s not wrong; I was quite literally the one who had to pay for Brian’s crimes. But Gabe barely knows me. And I knew my husband for years but had no idea what he was doing to his own patients right under my nose.
“Because you hate Tammy Buckner.”
“I do not!” I protest before it hits me how irrelevant that is. Tammy’s one of my subscribers. I don’t know how he even knows her name.
He shoots me a playful grin, one of his many larger-than-life expressions because everything he does is larger than life. “Ma’am, I have watched four of your livestreams, and every single one of them, Tammy said something I can only guess was asinine. I don’t know anything about quilting, so I couldn’t say for sure, but I got that vibe. And you thanked her and told her you’d take her advice into consideration, and every single time, you looked like you were about to burst a capillary for all the restraint you were putting on yourself.”
“You can’t even tell binding is machine stitched on the first side!”
He takes the stop sign as an opportunity to lean across the console and steal a swift, unexpected kiss, but the car behind us lays on the horn when we sit a half second longer than appropriate.
“You wear your heart on your sleeve. Plenty enough locals love you so much that I can tell everyone else is wrong about you. And I’m really excited to prove them wrong, too.”
He’s finally relaxed, melting back into his seat and loosening his grip on the wheel, absently rubbing his giant, rough thumb up and down the back of my comparatively dwarfed hand. His lips are curled into a natural smile, like that’s his default, and he’s just happy to be here.
Happy to be with me.
I’m happy to be with him. I want to pinch myself to see if this is real. He makes me feel good.
And thinking about that has my mind going to how good he made me feel in the bathroom. “Why are you wearing a cup, anyway?”
I don’t know what I’m expecting, if it’s going to turn out that the quarterback has a history of punching his teammates in the crotch or if he’s going to be embarrassed about a medical condition or if this is going to be the thing he won’t tell me so I can feel like we’re even on secrets. Instead, he replies immediately with, “Because I got to start my day by holding your boobs, and I figured that every time I thought about that, I’d get a boner. I didn’t want to be dealing with that all day.”
I’m the one blushing with his confession. Of course he’s attracted to me. He’s made that clear enough already. He’s already kissed me and defended me and made me orgasm. Did I feel a twinge of self-consciousness when he wouldn’t let me touch him back? Yes, absolutely, but now I get why. The poor man’s probably been uncomfortable all night.
We’re far enough from downtown that the road is mostly empty. Wilmington has highways that reach out to the suburbs, but they’ve been built along slower-moving surface roads. We’re on one of those, and we have several miles lined with undeveloped woods ahead of us.
Brian, the asshole, valued nothing more than propriety from me. I never did anything considered lewd, and he never asked or expected me to. So when I scoot toward Gabe in my seat and pivot myself to face him, my conscience is telling me to stop. What I’m thinking isn’t okay. Gabe is going to reject me.
Gabe glances at me, his eyes dipping to my cleavage. I see the twinkling there.
I grab for his belt.
He rests his giant hand over mine yet again, not necessarily stopping me but slowing me down, at least. “Whatcha doing there?”
“Seeing if I can figure out how cups come off.”
He chuckles, the sound low and husky. He looks around, gaze traveling from one side of the road to the other, before he flips his blinker on. “Not too much of a challenge, that, but you should take your skirt off instead.”
My heart races at the challenge he proposes so easily, without a thought to whether we should do this or not.
I can’t be nearly so casual though, and I’m terrified my words are going to get stuck in my throat. I am not a bold person. This is not who I am.
But it’s who Gabe makes me want to be.
“It’s your turn,” I insist.
He guides his truck onto a service road that leads us into the woods. There’s no sign saying we can’t be here, but it feels a bit like a horror movie. He parks and kills the headlights but leaves the engine running, the dashboard providing just enough illumination. “I’m not going to have Cora kill me because I tore or stained your skirt. Take it off.”
He’s so laid-back and friendly that the bite to his tone now catches my attention. It’s not rude or demanding. It’s patient but leaves no room to counter.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and shimmy out of my skirt.
He holds his hand out to me, so I hand it to him and watch, intrigued, as he handles it delicately, finding the seams where he can fold it without leaving ugly creases and laying it on his back seat.
“Now your panties.”
Is he going to dictate everything we do? I’m a pacifist down to my bones and have never found myself attracted to aggressive guys, but the way he defended me against both Blaise and Evan has me thinking I might be willing to do whatever he tells me to.
Not only does he fold my panties neatly, he tucks them under my skirt. He doesn’t leer at them or do anything else that might turn me off. Only once they’re hidden away does he say, “Are you wet for me, Joss?”
The reflection of the dashboard speckles in green and blue starbursts in his eyes.
I nod.
“Does that leather seat feel nice on your pussy?”
My eyes widen at the awareness. I never would have noticed if he hadn’t said it, but now, the cool, smooth leather is all I can think about. My core clenches, and the suction from my slickness tugs at me. Tiny bubbles of air tickle up and down the length of my slit, making me even wetter.
Gabe’s smile is a knowing one. He unbuckles his seatbelt and pushes the seat back as far as it’ll go, reclining it a couple notches. With a flip up of the center console, opening up more space next to him, he pats his thighs. “Now come see how your pussy feels here.”
My nerves frizzle slightly on that. I’d been thinking a hand job or even a blow job. He takes up so much space that I’m not sure how well I’ll fit there. We’re only twenty minutes from home; wouldn’t it make more sense to invite him in?
I’ve never invited a man in. I once brought a guy to the barn just to avoid bringing him up to my apartment. But I doubt the workbench could take Gabe’s weight.
He must see my hesitation, but he’s nothing less than casual with, “Or we could do something else if you don’t want this.”
He tucks his hands behind his head, relaxing back, waiting patiently, and it’s exactly what I need. My eyes travel up his form, so at odds with himself with his hulking form and his sleek suit, his friendly face and his heavy eyes, laid-back but fully aware that I’m going to take his offer.
He helps me position myself, strong hands deftly maneuvering my legs so that my thighs hug his. A faint draft wicks between my legs, parted enough by his broad lap that I’m spread open.
He flicks my clit, just once, but it’s enough to have my back curling around the steering wheel.
That husky laugh. A teasing, “Were you really planning to just jerk me off?”
I wasn’t planning on anything. I’m flying blind here. But I can’t resist pointing out, “How is that different from what you did in the bathroom?”
“Oh, so you’re gonna catch an attitude now?”
I steadfastly fight and fail to hold back my pout, which results in Gabe hooking my top by the gore and pulling me down onto him. It gives him enough space to smack my ass just enough to make my flesh sing as our lips meet.
Momentum and gravity drop me onto him, and he’s so big that there’s nothing for me to brace myself on but his shoulders. I rest my forearms on him, but it only leaves a sliver of space between us. I slide on his lap, and the coarseness of his pants rubs along my sensitive, swollen slit.
He’s still zipped up, and now the hard shell within is obvious. I grind against it, a part of me wishing it was his cock that I felt there, but the purely sensation-driven nerve endings in my clit forcing me to moan into his mouth.
“You are so fucking hot,” Gabe groans. “You’re about to come all over my pants, aren’t you?”
I’ll be embarrassed about this later. I’ll get all stuck in my head trying to figure out why I’m so easily set off by him. For now, I bear down on him, mindlessly working myself to orgasm.
Gabe doesn’t seem to be bothered. In fact, he digs his hands into my ass, pulling my cheeks apart to expose me further to the chilled air pumping through the a/c and giving him plenty of space to sink two thick fingers into my pussy.
I cry out, pushing into him in shock and then shifting back against his hand to force him to go deeper.
“Take it,” he encourages me, bending and spreading his fingers, lighting me up. “Take everything you want before I take what I want.”
I’m going to come. I’m right there. And I want more. I want it all. Pushing my weight off of him sinks his fingers further, making it worth it to relieve the pressure from my clit. I fight with his belt as I bounce on his lap, obsessed with the way his splayed fingers stretch my rim and dig into my inner walls.
He does nothing to help me get into his pants, but the intensity of his gaze tells me this is exactly what he wants me to do. He wants me to loosen myself up so I’m ready to take him once I get his cock free.
“Do it, Joss.”
I’m not sure if he’s talking about coming or getting into his pants, but they both happen at the same time. I lift right off him, squeaking out his name as my hand hits snug synthetic shorts with a pocket the cup’s tucked into. I manage to pull it out, finally feeling the shape of his hard, thick cock attempting to unfurl itself.
My orgasm has me shaking and bucking and desperate for more. It’s right there, I can feel it, and I knowI knowI’m going to feel so much better once that thing is stuffed inside me, but I can’t seem to get to it. “Why are these so fucking tight?” I screech.
“That’s so cute when you swear.”
And then I’m whimpering because Gabe’s taken his fingers away, but he needs them to get into those stupidly tight shorts.
I salivate at the sight of his cock once it springs free, thick and veiny, and I swear it looks angrily red even though there’s barely light between us. I grab for it, and pre-cum sputters out.
Gabe grunts. “I’m not gonna make it.”
He’s going to make it. I need to feel him inside me, I need to split myself open on him. I need him buried to the hilt for a second. That’s it.
I don’t hesitate, holding his cock steady and lurching myself up, hitting my head on the roof of the truck as I notch him at my entrance and sinking my full weight on him.
Loud sounds come from us both, and I’m thinking I’m not the only one this was too much for. He’sbig, but I didn’t give myself time to think about that, as desperate as I was. Pain shoots through me, immediately leveling out to an ache that makes every muscle tighten, strangling his cock.
But it’s exactly what I want.
We both struggle to catch our breaths, but I finally settle myself enough to keep going only to realize the mistake we made. I lift myself up off him with a curse. “Dammit, is there a condom here?”
Gabe lurches up out of his seat, his eyes wild and dazed, his cock already nudging at my core again. After a second, he blinks. “I had a vasectomy.”
“What?” I don’t even understand what the word means at first. I just need something between us so we don’t regret this later, and that’s a condom. But then it clicks.
Birth control.
He so emphatically doesn’t want kids that he’s had surgery to prevent them.
And I don’t want to get pregnant tonight, of course, that’s part of why a condom is so critical. I barely know Gabe. This has been such a crazy whirlwind that I threw out my usual inhibitions, but we’re nowhere close to being ready for kids. I can’t even say we’re officially dating. We haven’t had a full date yet.
But I do want kids. Desperately. I always have. And I got so close, only to have the opportunity stolen from me in the most devastating way possible. So it’s sobering to know Gabe has gone to such extremes to prevent it.
This is a problem. A big one. A problem that potentially ends the relationship we’re not even in.
But it’s a problem for another day.
“Oh, and I just had a physical with the works,” he adds. “We all get them. Negative for STDs. And everything else. Except my blood pressure’s high. But I’m good here.”
I nod. “Right. Good. So am I.”
He snags me by the chin, tilts me to meet his eyes and then draws me to his lips again. “We can stop if you want.”
I shake my head and kiss him back. “No, I want this.”
He guides his cock back into me and grabs my ass, setting a pace between us that has any thoughts of the future vanishing for the moment. One day, we’ll need to discuss this, but for now?
For now, I take what I want. I crush his shirt in my fingers and demand his kisses and long not for babies but for naked flesh against flesh. His sounds echo my motions, enthusiastically responding to what I do, making me feel truly appreciated, like the bridges he may have burned this evening were truly worth it for him.
Like whatever this is between us is worth it.
He comes suddenly, no warning except a tightening of his fingers, bruising my ass, no doubt. He tips his head back over the head rest and groans up at the roof, the sound of relief enough to quell any lingering doubts about whether we should have done this. And when he tips me back against the steering wheel to rub my clit until I come while his cock is still pulsing inside me?
I barely even notice the horn blaring outside until he finally relaxes and draws me back onto his chest to doze and the beeping finally stops.
It was the truck. I was sitting right on that horn.