Chapter Eighteen #2
“Don’t tease me…” she says with a small chuckle, moving against my touch.
Jesus, she needs it bad.
I push two fingers inside, and she gasps, throwing her head back as she grinds harder against me. Keeping my other hand steady on her hip, I hold her tightly as she rocks up and down.
“Yes, just like that, baby. Take what you need from me.”
Gemma squeezes my shoulders and presses her mouth to mine in a desperate kiss. It feels incredible to taste her again and feel her unraveling around me. It’s been years, but I haven’t forgotten how amazing things were between us.
Sliding her tongue between my lips, she moans when I rub her clit with the pad of my thumb. At this rate, it won’t be long before she falls over the edge. She pants and moans as I finger fuck her.
“Oh my God,” she breathes out, melting against me. Her head falls back again, and I slide my teeth across her bare throat. I suck on her soft skin as I increase the pressure on her clit.
“Your cunt is so perfect, Gemma. Goddamn, I’ve missed this,” I whisper hoarsely in her ear. “Come on my fingers, baby. I know you’re close.”
I pinch her nipple as I nibble on the shell of her ear, and seconds later, her pussy tightens, and she screams out with satisfaction. Her nails dig into my shoulders as she rides out her release, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
Once her body relaxes against me, I bring my fingers to my mouth and taste them.
“Mmm…so fucking delicious.” I smirk, licking my lips. “I’ve missed that.”
Gemma’s head snaps to mine as her green eyes widen in horror. For a moment, I think she sees something behind me, but then I notice panic and realization in them.
“Oh, shit. Oh my God. Shit, shit, shit,” she mutters as she fights to push off me and lowers her skirt when she stands. She grabs her shirt off the floor and pulls it on, her breathing rapid and harsh.
I’m so thrown off by her reaction that I’m not sure what to do besides wait for her to toss me out or explain.
“Gemma…”
Her hand covers her mouth as she stares at me in shock.
“I-I’m so sorry…I can’t, we can’t…I wasn’t thinking clearly. That shouldn’t have happened.”
Well, that’s like a nice cold bucket of ice water to the face. Though I can’t say I regret it. Fuck Robert and his perfect fiancé facade. If he loved her the way he claims, he’d be here right now instead of me. He would’ve dropped everything to make sure his woman was safe.
“Gemma, please stop freaking out…” I get to my feet, and she steps back.
“You have to go. Please, go.” She walks around the kitchen island. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let it go that far.”
“You asked me to kiss you…” I remind her.
“I know, and I shouldn’t have.”
“I wasn’t complaining.”
She licks her lips—the ones I just kissed. Gemma’s having a complete meltdown, and all I want to do is pull her into my arms and comfort her, but I don’t.
“What just happened was wrong, Tyler.”
I want to ask her why it felt so right then.
While she wants to do the right thing, even she knows deep inside that being with him is wrong. All the red flags are proof. How can she not see what we have, could have, would be the real thing?
“Well, I call BS.”
“What?”
“I call bullshit. You knew exactly what you were doing when you asked me to kiss you. You think you love him, but you still have feelings for me.”
“Tyler, please. Don’t.”
Gemma’s nearly in tears, and I hate upsetting her. I know the love and desire we had all those years ago is still there just by the way her body reacted to my touch. It’s frustrating to see her lie to herself and pretend the spark isn’t there, but the past twenty minutes was all the proof I needed.
“Make sure to stir the chili.” I scoop my shirt off the floor.
“Wait, what?” She nearly stutters over her words, and I point at the pot behind her.
“The chili. It’ll be ready soon. Stir it so the seasonings mix and don’t stick to the bottom of the pot.”
I yank my shirt over my head and grab my keys. “Make sure to lock up behind me.”
Then I pull open the door, briefly waiting to see if Gemma says something, and when she doesn’t, I shake my head and leave.
When I leave, I look up and down the street, seeing if I notice anything suspicious or the SUV she described, but I don’t.
Fucking lucky too because I’m in a shitty mood.
I would’ve had no problem pulling those assholes out of the car and giving them a piece of my mind with my fists.
I’m halfway to the condo when the sky opens up and unleashes on me.
Fucking great.
I’m drenched by the time I make it inside, and Everleigh gasps when I enter.
“God, what happened to you?”
Glaring, I kick off my shoes and go to the bathroom. I strip out of my wet clothes and hop in the shower. My heart pounds and races with adrenaline. The need to punch someone or something weighs heavily on me, but I grip my cock and punish myself instead.
Gemma isn’t mine.
I don’t deserve her.
Even twelve years ago, I knew I didn’t, but I still had her.
I’ve fucked up a lot in my life, but giving her up is my biggest regret.
Tasting her again and knowing it can’t ever happen again might kill me.
I’m so fucked. I should’ve walked away when she asked me to kiss her, well before her lips touched mine.
I shake my head.
I should’ve bent her over and given her a dozen reasons why she’ll always be mine and not his.
My thoughts jostle as I roughly stroke my shaft and grunt to images of Gemma’s mouth falling open as she came by my touch.
You can’t rewrite the past, I told her.
You were my first love.
Being alone with her is equivalent to playing with fire and then getting pissed when I get burned.
I should know better.
Gemma’s pure and sweet and shouldn’t get wrapped up with a guy like me who has more baggage than an airport. Even if Robert is a phony fuck, he can give her things I never could. A life she deserves.
My balls tighten as my hand squeezes hard, and I hiss through the orgasm as the memories of her flood my mind. I’m never going to get over her.
I toss and turn all damn night, fighting with the urge to text her or keep my distance.
Deciding on the latter, I give up trying to sleep and get out of bed at four a.m. Grabbing my workout clothes, I change and brush my teeth, then head outside for a run.
This pent-up rage isn’t going anywhere, so I have to work it off.
After an hour, I head to the gym, stretch, then I give the punching bag hell. After another hour, I feel better, but my frustration is still there.
A guy who’s at least ten years younger watches me, and I wonder if he’s on Victoria’s payroll.
“Do you think you could teach me to box like that?” he asks. I realize he can’t be more than a few years out of high school.
“Sure. What do you wanna know?”
“How to kick ass and take names,” he says with a grin. “My name is Luke.”
“Tyler.”
I give him a pair of gloves.
As I guide him on proper form, I hold the bag in place for him while he practices. The kid has some power behind his punch and reminds me of myself when I was his age. Eager to learn.
For forty-five minutes, I instruct him, and I actually forget about being pissed as a rush of happiness surges through me.
I loved training and teaching people how to box, and this brings me right back to coaching Mason and Liam.
When I moved to Vegas, I taught at an elite gym, and after working with him, I realized how much I miss it.
“You’re so good. Thank you,” Luke says before grabbing a towel. “Will you come back tomorrow?”
I nod with a smile. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”
He waves as he walks to the locker room, and the owner approaches me.