Chapter 65
Victor
“Such a good girl.” I coo, pressing my lips to her ear while her entire body hums on top of me.
She whines and whimpers as I pull my fingers from her, but her noises deepen when she feels the tug and rip of her panties.
I’m so hard it hurts. Fuck, I missed her.
I felt so far away from her over the past few days.
Once her pussy is exposed, I can’t hold myself back any longer. Her eyes slowly open and fall down my body, watching as I rip open the button and zipper of my pants. The grey slacks, darkened with her juices.
Gabbi reaches down and wraps her hand around my shaft, and it’s like my whole body seizes, eyes rolling to the back of my head. Fire shoots through my veins as she tightens her grip and starts moving her hand up and down, twisting at the tip. Jesus, that feels incredible.
My fingers dig into her flesh, her thighs, her hips, her ass.
“Gabbi, please.” Now it’s me who’s begging.
Everything she said before, everything she’s been feeling, I’ve been feeling it too.
I’ve been pulling away, regardless of how much it hurts.
“Fuck, baby, please,” her forehead leans to mine as she lifts up on her knees.
My body fills with frenetic energy, and I feel like all of the molecules of my body want to go everywhere at once.
When she sinks down onto me, the air becomes thick, and time slows.
The frantic feeling is gone, and all I feel is relief, a lust-filled, hot-blooded, flush of relief.
An animalistic feeling follows shortly after, steamrolling that relief and turning it into sheer desperation.
I hold onto Gabbi so tight. Moving her hard and fast, slamming her down on my cock.
Her moans and gasps are contagious and encouraging, “Yes, Vic. Fuck, yes. God, you feel so good.” Her words spur me on.
It’s not pretty, it’s not making love, this is pure, raw, feral fucking.
Sweat drips from both of our brows, our teeth clash, and our movements are ragged and messy.
“I can feel you swelling inside me.” Fuck, her words are killing me, but she’s right, I’m almost there.
“Fill me up, baby, let me feel you come, I need it.” Jesus, this woman.
“Come with me, Rockstar. I want to feel your cunt milk me, baby.” I swallow her gasp.
Her body starts to shake again, my movements become ragged and rougher, the climax rolling up through my body.
Just then, I feel Gabbi clamp down on me like a vice, then I’m erupting inside of her, our voices becoming a melody of euphoric moans.
Both of us are heaving breaths, our hands still clinging to each other, and our eyes wide open, locked in a gaze. For the first time in days, I feel peace wash over me.
Vrrr. Vrrr. Vrrr.
My eyes snap open when the loud vibrations and ringing burst from my cellphone on the nightstand in Cookie’s, well, Sheila’s, guestroom. It’s a number I don’t recognize, but seeing as it’s 4:00 in the morning, I answer it anyway.
“Hello?” My voice is gravelly from sleep. The rumble in my chest must have woken Gabbi up since she starts moving her face from my pec and looks up at me in a sleepy daze.
“Hi, Mr. Victor Scott?” A young woman’s voice comes through the cell.
“Vic? Who is it?” Gabbi’s becoming a little more awake. I shake my head and shrug my shoulders, letting her know I’m not sure.
“Yeah, this is Victor. Who’s this?” I’m not sure what to expect.
“Hi, Mr. Scott. This is Doctor Heather Lakely at Beaumont Regional Hospital.” My heart instantly drops as I quickly sit up in bed, Gabbi sitting up with me. “You’re marked down as the other emergency contact for Caleb Walsh.” My mouth is suddenly dry.
“D?” Gabbi must have been able to hear the doctor through the phone. I nod at her, and both of us are moving to get dressed before I hear the next words out of the doctor’s mouth.
“Mr. Scott, I’m sorry. There’s been an accident.”
I hate how hospitals smell. So sterile and cold.
Gabbi and I make our way down the bright white tiled hall to the nurses’ station, Ty and Emma following close behind.
We approach a young-looking woman with her dark hair tied back in a low, messy bun, wearing white scrubs with lollipops all over them.
“Hi, I’m Victor Scott. I’m here for Caleb Walsh. ” Gabbi grabs hold of my hand.
The nurse looks up at me as I speak. She must know who I am, since her hazel eyes exude what looks to be sorrow.
Without looking back at her computer, she answers, “Yes, Mr. Scott. Mr. Walsh is in a recovery room. He can only have one visitor at a time in there, but he should be getting moved to a regular room shortly. So, if you all want to have a seat in the lounge area,” she points behind us, “I can let you know when he’s moved. ”
I do nothing to cover the shock on my face. “Recovery room? Like after surgery? How long ago was he brought into the emergency room? I was just called 20 minutes ago.”
The nurse looks at the computer, then back at me.
“Yes, sir, he was brought in around midnight. His first emergency contact was called as soon as he came in. We called you as soon as we received your information. If you’ll have a seat in the lobby, one of us will come out to get you as soon as he’s moved to another room.
” I’m so fucking confused. Is he awake? How did he give my number to them? Why didn’t he just call?
“Wait,” more confusion sets in, and the panic increases. I need to see him. “You said he could have one visitor in the recovery room.” The nurse nods her head. “So, who’s in there?”
Looking down at her computer again, she responds, “A Miss Rowan Falcone.”
Who the fuck is Rowan Falcone?