Chapter 15 #2
Only then did he slide the lace off and kiss the slick heat of her sex, slowly and thoroughly driving her higher.
Higher. She gripped his shoulders one moment and twisted her fingers in the duvet the next, the sweet tension building until she wriggled her hips beneath him.
Needing to get closer. Needing him right…
There.
Tender shudders racked her, a sensuous tremble that went on and on.
He steadied her, teasing out the pleasure for long, delicious moments that left her breathless.
At last, when the aftershocks subsided, he released her hips and peeled away the rest of his clothing.
He found a condom from a box he’d stashed nearby days before.
She could only watch, spent and yet still hungry for him.
When he covered her body with his, she wound her arms around his neck, desperate to feel him all around her.
He looped an arm under one of her legs to make room for him, entering her in a steady thrust that almost sent her over the edge again.
She tucked her forehead into his neck, clinging and not caring, needing this time with him to heal.
To remember forever. She covered his shoulder with kisses and nips until she had to close her eyes and simply hold on.
“Gabriella.” He whispered her name like an invocation, cupping her chin to encourage her gaze.
The heat in his eyes licked over her and he rolled her on top of him. She let go of his neck to steady herself with her hands on his chest. His gaze never left hers, and she returned it, following the rhythm that felt best. The rhythm she hoped was right.
Yet soon, she didn’t even think about the correct way to take the sensual lead. She simply let herself go. Let herself feel the gift that he gave her of being in control.
And found her peak all over again. Fiercer. Harder.
And she took Clay Travers over that edge with her.
The joy of that—feeling his body tense and shudder all around her—soothed something inside her. She felt strong and beautiful. Happy. So much more than sexually fulfilled, although there was plenty of that, too.
Slumping over him, she laid her head on his chest and listened to the tumultuous pounding just below her ear.
She pressed kisses there. Stroked a hand along the rigid muscle and hot, smooth skin.
Tenderness for him flowed through her, stirring feelings that weren’t wise to have for a man who wasn’t ready for any kind of family—not even a sister.
Gabriella closed her eyes against those thoughts, not wanting to ruin a beautiful moment with the reality of how much she already cared for Clay.
Long moments later, after he’d slid her to his side and plumped a pillow beneath her head, tugging blankets over them both, Gabby tried not to think about the future.
About how she might have finally healed her soul only to have Clay break her heart.
She still had work to do after all. She needed to see Jeremy Covington behind bars.
She needed to face her demons across the driveway.
Most important, she would make sure Mia was safe and happy.
“Gabby?” Clay’s fingers combed through her hair. “You okay?”
She wasn’t sure she could answer that honestly right now. Or maybe she simply didn’t know the answer.
“Just thinking about the trial and hoping it winds up soon.”
“I think the prosecution will rest with another day or two of testimony.” Clay shifted onto his side to peer at her in the moonlit room, his head lying on one heavy biceps as a pillow.
“And I meant to tell you that I spoke to Sam and Amy Finley for a while at the reunion. Amy is filling out a victim’s impact statement.
I wondered if something like that might help you, too.
It would be a way to document how that bastard hurt you and make it a matter of public record. ”
“Amy is filling one out?” She’d wondered about Amy’s presence at the Salon Night and assumed that the youngest Finley was there to support her sister Heather in giving testimony.
“The district attorney thought there was plenty of evidence without sharing something that happened when Amy was a teen. But Amy decided she wants to come forward in some way and she’s been working on a statement that could be read at the presentencing.
” Clay’s fingers kept stroking over her hair, soothing. Kind.
“I could share my story.” She thought about it, wondering how it would feel to revisit those events again.
She’d prepared a statement when Sam had asked victims to come forward to help build the case against Covington.
But would she feel better about it if she wrote something that would be publicly shared?
“Sam said some people find it helpful to feel that they’ve been heard.” Clay dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Something for you to think about if it might give you more closure on what happened.”
Curious to learn more about writing a victim’s impact statement, she promised herself to read up on it online in the morning.
A quick, electronic chime pealed noisily from the nightstand, where Clay’s phone screen illuminated with bright blue light.
“Sorry,” he muttered, turning away. “I hope it’s not the hospital.” He glanced at the screen for a moment before hitting a button. “It’s Mia,” he told Gabby. “Hello?”
Sitting up, Gabriella watched his face, aware of his sudden alertness.
“Slow down. It’s okay. I’m on my way.” He slid out of bed and wrenched on his boxers with one hand. “He’s doing better then, right? He’s coherent?”
Gabriella hoped for Mia’s sake that Pete was doing much better, although the hospital staff had not given them reason to be overly optimistic this past week.
Clay wedged the phone under his chin while pulling on his jeans and boots.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, tops. Tell Davis he can leave and I’ll make sure you get home.” He disconnected the call and grappled with his sweater as he turned to Gabriella. “Hard to believe, but my father is awake.”
“That’s great news.” She half wished Clay had asked her to go to the hospital with him, although that wouldn’t work so well since he only had his motorcycle and he would be driving Mia back here.
“Yeah.” Clay nodded, but his expression was somber. “Apparently he’s been asking for me ever since he opened his eyes.”
Gabriella wasn’t sure what to say. Clay had been so good about comforting her all week through the trial, but his relationship with his father was complicated. She knew he’d been dreading this conversation with his dad, and now the stakes were higher since Pete was dying.
She pulled a blanket around her shoulders and followed Clayton into the living area, her bare toes curling against the patches of hardwood between the area rugs.
“Good luck.” She kissed his cheek when he bent to pick up the keys from the kitchen island.
“Thanks. I’ll call you.” He kissed her lips. “Make sure you arm the security system when I leave. Sam still hasn’t made any arrests for those recent home break-ins.”
“Okay.” She followed him to the door and did as he asked before peering out the window to watch him fire up the bike and drive away, the red taillight fading.
Slowly she became aware of the clock on the wall ticking. It was early yet—not even 10 p.m. on a Saturday. And she’d never be able to sleep anyway, wondering how Mia and Clay were doing at the hospital.
Her gaze shifted to the house on the opposite side of the driveway, a few of the windows strategically lit thanks to her brother’s careful security measures. Gabriella had been putting off confronting her demon as much as Clay had put off confronting his father.
Was tonight a good time for them both to face the ghosts of their pasts?
Her eyes went to the window of her childhood bedroom. No light was on there. She felt chilled just looking at it. And yet, hadn’t she healed parts of herself this week? Put some of the broken pieces back together?
Clay had helped her to feel stronger. Braver. More calm in the face of her fears about Jeremy Covington.
Maybe there was no better time than tonight to conquer this last fear. To finally say goodbye to the frightened teen she’d once been.
Softly she padded back into the bedroom to retrieve her clothes and her phone that had the security information for the main house. Taking a deep breath, she dressed and stepped outside to pay her childhood home a visit.