105. Riley
ONE HUNDRED FIVE
The weightof what we”re about to do hits me. I”m turned on and wet and so ready to have an orgasm from something other than my vibrator.
I pause, staring into his impossibly black eyes, eyes that I can easily lose myself in. His cock is hard and throbbing, poised just inches from my pussy and ready to slide in.
”You”re not sure.”
His words are a statement, not a question. I sit up, against the padded gray leather headboard.
”I”m always sure when I give myself to you, Gabriel. I always want you. Always.”
He eases off me and I pull the duvet up so I”m no longer naked and vulnerable, trembling under his intense gaze.
”I feel the same about you. Obviously.” His tone isn”t angry. It”s soft and gentle, making everything inside me melt.
”There”s nothing more that I want than us together. In every way. As friends. As lovers. Partners. But right now, after everything that”s happened? I”m not sure it”s the best idea. At least not tonight.”
Gabriel stares at me for a few long seconds. His beautiful, naked body tempts me, but I must remain strong. Welcoming him back into my bed is exactly what I want — and exactly how I”ve been handling my relationship with him.
Fuck, fight, make up. Wash, rinse, repeat. It”s got to stop.
”For us to do this again, to go forward and be a couple again, we have to approach things differently. Maybe we don”t solve every problem in bed.”
I half expect him to storm out. Or say something snarky or harsh. I expect his expression to grow dark, to try to kiss me into submission.
”Unless all you wanted was to come here and fuck me,” I say. It”s slightly mean, but I need to know.
I brace for impact. But what he does next stuns me.
He slowly stretches out, resting his head in my lap. Surrender. It can”t be easy for him, and yet, he”s done it again and again for me.
”Oh, Riley. You”re wise beyond your years. You”re right, you know.”
I gently run my fingers through his soft hair. The intimacy of this moment makes my heart swell three sizes.
”You”re right,” he says again softly. ”I didn”t come here just to have sex with you. I came here because...because I”m in love with you. These weeks apart have been absolute, fucking torture. I thought about you constantly, regretted my decision every damn day. My life”s been complicated lately with the return of my father... and throughout it all, I realize I”m lost without you.”
His raw confession makes me suck in a sharp breath.
”I thought about you all the time too,” I confess. ”I was so hurt when you ended things. I didn”t understand why.”
Gabriel turns his head to look up at me and I trace his eyebrow with my index finger. ”I was scared. Scared that I”d drag you too far into my world. A world that could put you in danger, or make you resent me in time. Worried that you”d meet my father and think I”ll eventually become him”
The disgusted look on his face spoke volumes.
I nod slowly, acknowledging the truth of his words. His lifestyle is complicated, to put it mildly.
”But being without you made me realize that I”d rather face those risks than lose you entirely,” he continues. ”I know I have no right to ask anything of you after the way I behaved. But if there”s any chance you could forgive me, any chance we could try again...?”
His voice trails off hopefully. I take a moment to gather my thoughts.
”I want that too. But we both made mistakes. If we”re going to move forward, it needs to be different this time.”
Gabriel sits up to face me, his expression serious. ”You”re absolutely right. Tell me what you need.”
”Honesty. Communication. Taking it slow this time instead of diving right back into a relationship. I think we need some time dating, really getting to know one another. When we started, it was a whirlwind. You nearly love bombed me.”
”Because I was instantly in love.” Gabriel kisses my cheek. ”But, yeah. You deserve that and so much more.”
He sweeps a lock of my hair off my forehead. ”I know it won”t always be easy, but I promise to do whatever it takes to rebuild your trust.:
I cover his hand with mine, moved by the emotion in his eyes. In this moment, I truly believe we have a chance to make things work.
”Why don”t we start with dinner tomorrow?” I suggest tentatively. ”We could go somewhere nice and talk.”
Gabriel”s face lights up. ”I”d love that. Anywhere you want to go, just say the word. Even if you want me to get a private chef and do it at my house. Or on the boat or...”
We share a soft smile.
”Am I love bombing?” He asks.
”A little. But I love it.”
The air feels lighter now, the hurt and uncertainty fading.
”Well, I should probably head home and let you get some rest,” Gabriel says after a moment, starting to climb off the bed. The sight of his bare, muscular body stirs desire in me, but I know we”re making the right choice taking things slowly this time.
”Wait.” I reach for his hand.
”What?”
”Do you want to stay? And just sleep?”
He pauses, then nods. ”On one condition.”
”What”s that?”
”You put your pajamas back on. A man can only take so much temptation.”
I grin and reach for my PJs.
The next morning,I wake in his arms. My austere, modernist bedroom suddenly feels warm and snug. It”s raining hard, the drops pelting against the floor-to-ceiling windows.
I usually sleep with the curtains closed but didn”t think to shut them last night. I”d slept better than I had in weeks. To my shock, we didn”t devour each other in the middle of the night, didn”t have sex, didn”t stroke each other to orgasm.
It”s as if we were both so exhausted from the absence of each other, that when we finally came together, we could get the sleep we both needed.
This morning, Gabriel”s spooning me — I”m the little spoon — and his deep breathing is a soft rhythm that fills the air along with the rain.
This is the best.
The intimacy of just sleeping entwined, without expectations or demands or sex, bonds us on a profound new level.
I shift so I”m facing him, no longer in his embrace. As I study his relaxed face on the pillow beside me, my heart swells with affection. In sleep, Gabriel appears younger, unburdened by the pressures and darkness of his world. I cover his bare shoulder with the duvet, overcome by tenderness.
Despite the lingering hurt of him breaking it off, my love for this complicated man has only grown through our weeks apart. But we”re worth fighting for.
Aren”t we?
I know it won”t be easy. Gabriel”s business, his very essence, poses real risks I”ve agreed to accept.
But I believe what we have is worth weathering the storms, if we both stay committed to honesty and empathy. Love is a leap of faith. And I”m ready to take that leap with Gabriel, as long as we both keep growing.
As long as we”re both honest with each other.
Careful not to wake him, I slip out of the bed. Gabriel stirs slightly when I press a soft kiss to his stubbled cheek. A little hum of contentment escapes his lips, warming my heart.
”Mmmm,” he hums, his hand reaching for my hip and squeezing. ”Where are you going?”
”Be right back,” I whisper, then kiss him again.
After freshening up in the bathroom, I tiptoe to the kitchen. The rain patters steadily against the windows, cocooning the normally stark condo in cozy solitude. I fill the fancy espresso machine and set it to brew two cappuccinos.
While steaming the milk, I glance at the clock. It”s just past ten in the morning. Gabriel rarely sleeps this late, even on weekends. He”s habitually an early riser, fueled by restless energy and ambition.
Exhaustion must have finally caught up with him.
I sprinkle cocoa powder over the foamy milk, hoping the chocolatey scent will rouse Gabriel once the coffee”s ready. He”d loved that little touch when I did it at his house. My mind drifts back to our first morning together, filled with lust and need and lots of trepidation on my part.
And maybe his, too.
We”re in a different place now, and that”s okay. It isn”t that my sexual desire has faded, it”s just moved to a deeper level. A soul connection.
This morning calls for a slower start, but I look forward to eventually relearning Gabriel”s passions and pleasures. To lazily worshiping every hard inch of his body once again.
Maybe in a few weeks. If we can hold out that long...
The machine beeps, jolting me from my pleasant reverie. I make my way carefully back to the bedroom with the two mugs.
Gabriel is sitting up in bed, shirtless, hair adorably rumpled. His face lights up when he sees me.
”Coffee in bed?” His raspy morning voice sends a spark through me. ”Have I died and gone to heaven?”
I set one mug on the nightstand and slide in beside him. ”Cappucino. And thanks for the expensive coffee maker. It”s the only thing that”s brought me joy these last few weeks.”
Gabriel leans in to capture my lips in a soft, lingering kiss. ”You take such good care of me, Riley.” His obsidian eyes shine with emotion. ”I don”t deserve you.”
I stroke his cheek, our eyes locked. ”We deserve each other.”
Gabriel nods slowly, covering my hand with his own. No more words need be spoken. I simply pass him a mug, and we sip our coffee together as rain patters softly beyond the windows.
We chat about the storm — there”s a tropical system coming in off the Gulf — and about Cath”s art. Safe topics.
A loud knock on the front door startles us.
Gabriel”s expression instantly hardens, his relaxed demeanor vanishing. He sets his mug down with a thunk on the nightstand.
”Stay here,” he says grimly, all traces of drowsiness gone. ”This is probably one of my men.”
I let my head fall back onto the buttery soft leather headboard. Why this interruption, and why now? Just when things were feeling perfect...
As he stomps out of the room, pulling on his shirt, a horrible thought hits me.
What if it”s Beckett?