Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
NATALIE
Towering over me, even though he’s on his knees, Gabe leans forward, takes my face in both hands, and claims my mouth like an explorer marking newly discovered land.
My hands claw into his thick tousled hair as our tongues glide together, both of us needy, eager, hungry.
I have never been so desperate to rip off someone’s clothes in my life. But four days of his grumpy banter, his niggling at me, his total-opposite-of-me-ness, and he’s worked me into such a frenzy that I’ll stop at nothing to get exactly that.
My heart has never pounded this hard, so hard I can hear it inside my head.
His mouth slides off mine, across my jaw and down to my neck. “You are so goddamn annoying.” His warm breath sends goosebumps skittering down the side of my body all the way to my freshly healed ankle.
I need to get my hands on the muscles that I am absolutely certain are under this hoodie. I have never touched a body like this before, and it might be my one and only chance, so I intend to grope it just as much as I can.
While Gabe’s hands move to my hips and up under my sweatshirt, pulling the T-shirt underneath out of my jeans, I find his waistband and free his undershirt too.
Our hands make contact with each other’s skin at the same time, and in perfect unison we let out groany sighs.
It’s hard to know which sensation is better—his large hands wrapping themselves around me searching for my bra or feeling his rippling muscles under my fingers. Swear to God I could count out his six-pack from the outline if I wasn’t so distracted.
“I’m glad you think I’m…” Oh dear Lord, he’s unhooked my bra. “…so irritating.”
His mouth is on my ear while his palms find my breasts, radiating chills to every extremity, making me melt into the jacket he placed on the seat for me.
As if levitating on their own, my legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. Something hard and large presses against my center.
“So irritating, and so fucking hot,” he breathes against my ear, tipping his hips as if to demonstrate just exactly how hot this is.
Pushing my hands up his shirt, I find his tight, puckered nipples and run my hands back and forth over them, tickling my fingertips.
In response, he thumbs mine and I vanish to another plane of reality. One where having sex with a famous athlete I’m really not sure about on the front row of the community theater seems like a good idea.
Then his hands are out from under my shirt and his mouth is off me .
My eyes open at the lack of contact and I find him looking down at me. He strokes his hands across my forehead, pushing the hair off my face, then rests them on my cheeks.
Those intense hazel eyes look deep into mine.
“I really want to fuck you.” The rumble in his voice vibrates my fingers on his chest. “Can I fuck you?”
I slide my hands down to his waistband and pop the button in response. “I’d be truly disappointed if you didn’t.”
His eyes fill with lust as the sexiest smile I have ever seen in my life breaks out under that dark beard.
And then his face is gone, ducking under my top, his mouth finding that sensitive skin at the side of my waist, his beard tickling, making me laugh and squirm a little.
“You like that?” His voice is rich with seductive flirtation.
“Hell, yes.” I’m virtually panting, like a wild animal closing in on its prey.
He looks up at me and, holding my gaze, brushes his chin from one side of my waist to the other, hovering it over my skin so the whiskers just barely touch it.
“Holy shit.” A full body shiver sends my head falling back onto the top of the seat.
Just when I think I can’t get any wetter he undoes my jeans and drags his chin lower.
“Condom?” I manage. Thank God there’s at least one brain cell in there still in the land of sensible thoughts.
“Yup.” He grabs the sides of my jeans, and I lift my hips as he yanks my underwear down with them. “About two years old, but I have one.”
So he wants me to know that his emergency wallet-condom hasn’t seen an emergency for a while. Interesting.
He reaches back to grab the heels of my sneakers and removes them, then he unwraps my legs from around his waist and finishes off the job with my jeans and panties.
But he keeps one hand under my bare backside, holding it off the chair while he readjusts his jacket to make sure it’s still under me and my skin doesn’t come in contact with the grubby old seat.
“Thank you,” I find myself saying.
“Save your thanks for later,” he says as he dives between my legs, thrusting his hands back up under my shirt.
His warm wet tongue is on my clit, but there’s no teasing here. The last few days driving each other wild has been all the foreplay either of us needs. He goes straight for the long, firm strokes that will get me to the edge in about two seconds flat.
I grab his hair as he rolls my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and his tongue slides lower and thrusts inside my dripping entrance.
“Fuck, I’m going to co?—”
And he stops.
Everything stops.
His hands are off me. His mouth is off me.
“Not yet, you don’t.”
Through my foggy vision I can just about make out the raised eyebrows and devilish smirk.
He leans over me and rests his lips—lips that taste of me—on mine.
“I’d like you to wait till I’m inside you,” he breathes against my mouth. “Would that be okay?”
His sex questions are so considerate.
“Yes. Yes.” It’s hard to talk when consumed by an intoxicating combination of frustration, anticipation, and excitement. “As long as it’s not too long.”
“There you go being annoying again,” he groans, and claims my mouth.
I slip my hands between us as our tongues tangle with need and find the shape in his jeans.
Jesus Christ, this is terrifying.
I mean, he’s a big guy, so I should have expected all parts of him to be in proportion, but this is verging on the ridiculous. For a moment, I wonder if he’s stashed a paint roller in his pocket. But no, this is most definitely him.
“Like what you’ve found?” He grazes his beard across my lips.
“I think so.” Oh, that sounds wrong. It feels spectacular. It’s just that the size of it is also spectacularly scary. “I mean, yes.”
He chuckles against my mouth, clearly reading my mind. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”
And he rises, reaches into the pocket of the coat I’m lying on and pulls out his wallet.
Before I even realize what’s happening, he’s freed himself from his jeans and is holding the condom at the tip of the most magnificent penis I have ever set eyes on.
Not that I’ve set my eyes on many. Three to be exact. And the last one for a monotonously long time. But even I can figure out that the beauty of this thing would be hard to match. And the size of it…yee gawd, how is that ever going to get inside little old me?
“Don’t I get to touch you before you put that thing on?” I ask, reaching to sneak just the slightest feel.
“If you want to, you can. But you don’t need to worry about me. Let me worry about you.”
“I want to.” The words barely make it out of me, snatched away by the heavy sigh that wafts through me when my fingertips make contact with the silky-smooth shaft.
“Jesus Christ.” His eyes close and his non-condom-holding hand grasps the arm of the seat.
Time has slowed down. We’ve gone from frantic grappling to almost complete stillness as I gently stroke just the tips of my fingers up from the base to the even softer, even smoother tip. It twitches at my touch.
But then his mouth is on mine again and he’s pushing me back against the seat, his hands replacing mine and sheathing himself.
“I want to fuck you now,” he pants into my mouth. “Can I fuck you now?”
“Hell, yes.” I grab onto his broad, thick shoulders as he slides a hand between my legs.
And the whole world disappears as he pushes a finger inside me.
I collapse forward, my head resting on Gabe’s shoulder, and sink even farther into him when his thumb connects with my clit.
“Just want to make sure you’re ready for me,” he says, right next to my ear.
Needing to touch at least some part of him, I find his balls and cup them in my hand. They’re tight, like they’re ready to pop.
“Give the boys a squeeze, Bugs,” he growls.
I roll them in my palm and at the very moment I squeeze, his finger presses up inside me and, oh my God, the entire universe is on the brink of exploding in my head .
“Jesus,” I cry out.
“Not yet, remember?”
“Yes.”
“You are ready though,” he says with absolute certainty.
He slides his finger out, and it’s replaced by pressure—pressure so wide that it feels like he will never fit.
I gasp and close my eyes, burying my face in the crook of his neck as my fingers dig into his shoulders.
He twists his head to drop a kiss on my cheekbone right in front of my ear, as if sensing my trepidation. “It’s okay. I got you.”
Does he ever.
Taking his monumental penis in one hand, he circles and circles its tip around my slick entrance while the thumb of his other hand draws around my clit, teasing and teasing.
My head spins, and I feel like I’m floating off to a place where the only currency is pleasure.
I sneak a peek between my eyelashes and find him watching my face, checking for expressions, making sure I’m all right.
“Take a deep breath, Bugs,” he says with a smirk.
And a cry flies out of my mouth as he nudges himself inside me.
“You okay?” he asks, concern leaking through the desire in his voice.
“Yes.” At least I think I am. Everything went black for a fraction of a second there. But it wasn’t in pain. It was some kind of ecstatic pleasure that I can’t name because I’ve never experienced it before.
He pushes up my top and eases me back, bending forward to take my nipple into his mouth. Combine that with his circles on my clit and the tiny thrusts of his hips, and my inner walls ooze every juice needed to get that man inside me.
Fraction by fraction he enters more with every nudge.
When he lifts his head, those hazel eyes are shrouded in a fog of lust.
“There we go,” he says, and grabs my hips, pulling me onto the final inch of him.
My body somehow completely relaxes around him. Completely accepts him. Completely welcomes him in.
He pulls back just a little and slides back in. “Now I really want to fuck you. Can I really fuck you now?”
“Please. Yes. Oh, yes.”
His thrusts quickly gather speed, gliding in and out of my soaking core as if he’s the perfect fit.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he pants, his body rocking back and forth above me.
I wrap my legs around him and relax, letting myself go, falling into the rhythm with him.
Then he takes one hand off my hip, swipes his thumb over his tongue, and resumes the circles on my clit.
In seconds I’m gone. I surrender completely. Give myself totally to the wanton, desperate passion of the moment, let every bit of tension he’s spent days building up inside me rise to a crescendo under his touch and the faster and faster thrusts of his giant dick inside me.
And then, that’s it. I’m grabbing his forearm, unable to wrap my hand around its girth, digging my fingers into the muscle, crying out, “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” on what feels like an endless loop.
“Okay, Bugs,” he pants in time with his thrusts. “You can come now. ”
And right on cue, I do. My body does exactly as he tells it and shatters into a million pieces under his thumb and around his dick.
Explosions rack my body as my head thrashes from side to side in the seat. My inner walls clenching and reclenching around him. Sounds coming out of me that I’ve never heard before.
“You look fucking beautiful,” he pants.
As my climax slows and I come back to reality enough to be able to open my eyes, he takes hold of my hips with both hands again and drives into me, his handsome face contorting with pleasure as he pumps me onto him as much as he pumps himself into me.
And with one giant thrust that teeters on the precipice from pleasure to pain, his head flies back and he releases a long low groan. His body contracts above me as his hips grind and he pumps himself dry with the final few thrusts.
His forehead comes to rest on my chest, and I push my fingers into his hair until they make contact with his damp scalp.
“Fuck me, that was good,” he says into my cleavage.
“It absolutely was.” I rest my heels on his bare butt. “Oh, are your knees okay on the hard floor?” It suddenly occurs to me that it couldn’t possibly have been comfortable for him.
He looks up and rests his chin on my chest. “I bunched my jeans up under them. I’m a strategic thinker.”
I laugh, and as my lips make contact with the end of his nose, I realize what an inappropriately affectionate gesture that is.
This was a quick fool-around in a theater seat between two people who find each other pretty damn irritating. Ludicrously attractive, but irritating. And kissing his nose is akin to holding his hand while walking down the street and asking him to meet my parents—neither of which I will ever do.
I press my heels into his butt and pull the penis I thought would never fit a little deeper inside me.
But he pushes himself up and, watching my face again to be sure he’s not hurting me, slowly pulls himself out.
I have never felt so empty in my entire fucking life.
He unsheathes himself and rises to his feet, yanking up his jeans.
A tense and awkward silence hangs in the air as I pull my own underwear and jeans back on.
Okay so, I guess that means we’re done here.
Of course we are.
But did I think otherwise when I grabbed him? Didn’t I jump on him out of carnal lust and nothing more?
I mean, he probably has a different woman after every game. This was likely just a regular run-of-the-mill Monday night for him.
And it can’t mean anything anyway. We find each other annoying, and neither of us is going to be in Warm Springs for long.
So yes, Natalie, get a grip.
You wanted him. You had him. Time to put on your big girl panties along with your jeans.
“You okay?” he asks, adjusting himself and zipping up, the condom swinging from one hand.
I nod. “Usually I’d expect dinner first. But, you know…” The lightness of my tone belies the heaviness in my stomach.
“Hah. First time for everything, Bugs.”
And there we go. Clearly not the first time for him .
I pull a tissue from my pocket and pass it to him. “Here, for the…” I point at the condom.
“And you still don’t like me, right?” he says with a wink as he takes the tissue.
“Absolutely not.”
Even though he has spent the last few minutes exhibiting some incredibly likable behavior.