by Jane Anthony
I lean in, my mouth latching on one pink nipple. The moan it elicits has my self-control spiraling to the brink. Her breath comes quicker. I mimic the action with the other breast, devouring her with tiny, open-mouth sucks as I move down her body.
My tongue dances over her belly button, and her abdomen contracts. I undo the fly on her jeans and work them down her supple legs. “Days of the week,” I muse, dipping my finger beneath the damp cotton panel in her panties and letting it snap back.
She gasps, then giggles. “You got a problem with my underwear?” she playfully asks, pushing onto her elbows.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” I lock on her heated stare as I shimmy them down and hook my arms under her knees. “They’re covering my snack.”
A soft whimper escapes her quivering lips. She lies in wait, the moonlight illuminating her perfect, beautiful body, and the light reflecting her pupils.
I lift her leg and nip on her thigh. Gnashing my teeth, I sink them into her soft skin. She mewls like a kitten, tiny and meek. I enjoy it far too much, the sound of her pain hardening my cock to granite.
She watches as I switch to the opposite side, drawing her skin between my teeth. Her little cunt is already glistening. When I slide my fingertip up the slit, her entire body shudders. The scent of her arousal wafts into my nostrils. I want to devour her. Gorge myself on her flesh until she’s screaming, crying, sobbing my name.
“Fuck, rebel, you’re incredible,” I growl, making eye contact one last time before closing the distance between my mouth and her pretty pussy.
Her body vaults off the mattress, her moan ringing in my ears like a gunshot. I feast on her flesh like a starving man. Her nails dig into my scalp, pulling, pushing, tearing at my hair, but her hips curl to meet my tongue in a way that tells me she’s on the brink. One tiny push is all she needs to tumble over the edge.
My fingers play over her entrance before venturing inside. One at first, my dick twitching at the feel of her sucking my digit deep within. So fucking tight. So fucking wet. I slide in a second, hating myself for loving the screeching gurgle she makes in the back of her throat. If she can’t handle this, she’s in for a world of hurt when my cock tears through that flawless pussy.
I pause for a moment, watching her face as I slide in and out. Creases form between her brows, her plump lips pursed in a heart. Evidence of her arousal glistens on us both. I crook inside her, two digits strumming her like a melody, her clipped whimpers a song to behold, but when I add the third, she unravels.
She grips my forearm, her head pressed into the pillow. I dip my head a second time, fucking her with my tongue and fingers until her body convulses. Sugar spills across my lips. I lap her core, savoring her flavor until I’m drunk on her taste.
Rising to my knees, I shirk my clothes. Gripping my shaft, I glance at her. “You ready for more, rebel?”
Her petite hand covers mine. Glazed beneath hooded lids, her doe eyes widen, her jaw falling slack. “Oh,” she mewls with an air of surprise.
“You all right?”
“It’s big.”
I lift a brow, the corner of my mouth following its path. “It’ll fit, I assure you.” Doubt crosses her features, and my ego soars. Falling onto one hand, I cup her cheek with the other. “I’ll be gentle. I promise.”
Taking hold of my cock again, I guide it to her sodden entrance. Her chest rises as I part her slick folds. Tiny fingertips bite my ass, but I don’t want to rush. I want to feel her quiver as I shove inside, see the way her body ripples as I fill her to the hilt.
A groan rumbles in my chest. I thrust into her slick heat, but her pained whimper slows the fervent need raging within. Dusky eyes swim in diamonds, her lips parted with heaving breaths. I take my time, loving her slow and deep.
Twining her arms around my neck, she pulls me down. I capture her slanted mouth with mine, breathing in her muted whines until I can no longer control my need to hear her crying out.
I slam into her hard. Her back bows, but she doesn’t complain. Instead, a moan ricochets around us as I do it again. She blossoms like a watered flower on a hot day. Her inner walls tense, pulsing around me as I piston inside her.
Pleasure slicks through my middle, flaring embers burning like gasoline tossed in flames. I pull myself away. With my cock in my fist, I pump my length. Ribbons of cum spill across her taut stomach and gorgeous tits. I sag against her chest, rapid breaths beating her sweat-slicked skin.
“Don’t move,” I mumble, detangling from her tight embrace.
The post-sex flush clings to her cheeks, her hair a wild mass of tangles falling over her hooded lids. I reach down, swipe my T-shirt off the floor, and sheepishly wipe up my mess. A crimson smear slashes my pelvis. I feel like I need to go to church or something. Repent of my sins and pray for forgiveness for dirtying her up the way I have.
Dampness gathers at the base of her lashes. She turns away, but I grasp her chin and twist her head back toward me. “Did I hurt you?”
“Not at all,” she snivels.
“Then why the tears?” I sweep my thumb under her eye, catching a fat drop clinging to her lower lash.
“It just hit me all at once, you know? Like, there was nothing before you. Just this empty hole inside me, and I never knew what it was.” Her hand slips into my hair and caresses my face, her roving fingers settling in the hollow of my throat. “But now I feel so full. Like I’m bursting to the point that my skin isn’t enough to hold it all in, and I wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t plan on falling this hard.”
“You think I did? I went to the bar to play music and drink a few beers. I had no idea love was about to walk in that night, but it did.” Wrapping my arm around her middle, I pull her close enough that her heart beats against my chest. Violent thumps that match the rhythm of my own. “And I’m never letting it go.”
My lips flutter over hers, soft and sweet. A silken kiss, a vow I intend to keep.
Chapter Fifteen
GABRIELLA
Sitting in class, I find it hard to concentrate. My head balanced precariously on my fist while Ms. Summers drones on about political economics or some shit I couldn’t care less about if I tried. It’s first period, yet chalk dust already sprinkles her blouse. She flings the frizzled perm off her shoulder with one hand, seamlessly twisting toward the blackboard again as she writes her notes in white, loopy lettering.
Try as I might, I cannot seem to get it together. Thoughts of Anthony invade my brain, the phantom feel of him between my legs earlier this morning still dampening my panties. Four days. Four perfect, hot, amazing days twisted in his sheets, forcing ourselves out for school and work. It’s all I can think about. The warmth of his kiss and the weight of his body. The sound of his husky whisper filling my ear with dirty words.
I will never have enough of him.
“Hey, Gabs.” Maribelle’s voice filters in from behind me. It brings me to attention, and I sit up straighter to hear her. “Merry-Go-Round is having a sale. You wanna hit the mall after school?”
“Anthony’s picking me up,” I murmur under my breath.
“Have him come, too. He can buy us booze for our Orange Julius.”
I snort aloud but quickly recover as Ms. Summers spins to face the class. Her disapproving glare passes over the faces of my classmates as she falls back into her boring lecture. How can this woman possibly care this much about President Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev? I mean, honestly, she must be a real snoozefest on a date.
The loudspeaker crackles overhead. “Gabriella Donofrio, please report to the principal’s office. Gabriella Donofrio, please report to the principal’s office.”
Chills dapple my arms. My main goal in life has always been to fly under the radar. I’ve never even had detention, let alone been sent to the principal's office. What could this be about?
A round of whispers ripples through the class as I gather my belongings and exit the room under extreme scrutiny. A sheen of sweat wets my palms. I push through th
e main office door where Principal Bartlet awaits my arrival.
“Miss Donofrio.” He lifts his hand and crooks a single finger in the air before disappearing into the little room off to the left. My stomach twists like a forkful of pasta. I follow him in and attempt to sit, but his stern voice fills the office. “Close the door.”
Doom sits on my shoulders as the latch clicks and I take my seat.
He folds his hands on the large wooden desk, sizing me up before asking, “Do you know why I’ve called you here?”
“N-no, sir.”
“I’ve received a phone call from your father.”
The single statement turns my blood to ice. I finger the hem of my skirt, freezing under his hard glare.
“He says you ran away from home.”
Taken off guard, I open my mouth to reply but nothing comes out. He called the school and reported me. Why would he do that?
Principal Bartlet opens a file I didn’t notice sitting on his desk until right now. “I see you’ve just turned eighteen, so legally, we cannot consider you a runaway, but it’s come to my attention that you no longer reside in this district. I’m sorry, Miss Donofrio. Unless you can show proof of residency, I’m afraid I’m going to have to escort you off the premises.”
My world bottoms out from under me. “You’re kicking me out?”
Blood rushes my ears, the violent thump of my heartbeat wild in my chest. He goes on to talk about Anthony and how the church cannot condone miscreant behavior, but the only thought in my head is the sad old man sitting in his home thinking of ways to get his own way no matter the cost.
How could he do this to me?
His cruelty knows no bounds.
“Can I at least stop at my locker?”
He nods and rises from his desk as if my entire future wasn’t destroyed by a simple phone call. The bell rings as he ushers me to grab any personal items I may have. My former classmates pour into the halls, the din of chatter echoing through the narrow corridor as kids pass like water navigating the rapids.
“Gabs!” Maribelle pushes through the crowd and stops at my side.
“Move along, Miss De La Cruz,” Bartlet warns.
“You okay?” she asks, ignoring his forceful tone.
But the tears suddenly flowing from my eyes steal my response. I can’t even look her in the face as I pack what’s left of my high school career and fling it over my shoulder en route to the door.
Escorted out like a common criminal.
I broke the rules, and this is my sentence.
The sun shines on my back as the heavy doors close behind me for the last time. The church stands, a majestic beacon against the bright blue sky, but all I see is a stone structure built on hypocrisy. I lived my life by its laws. The second I faltered, it cast me out like a demon.
It isn’t fair.
Chapter Sixteen
ANTHONY
The numbers on the pump rise one by one. I watch as they go, reaching for the nozzle as they slow to a crawl then eventually stop. The stink of gasoline permeates my nostrils, burning my sinuses in the morning light.
“Fifteen even,” I say to the woman in the driver’s seat. The baby in the back squeals with delight. I offer a single finger wave and a fit of giggles explodes from his chubby smile. He chants for his mother as she passes two bills through the open window and drives off.
The morning rush has since died down. Earlier today, the pumps were backed up all the way to the street. People scrambling to get to work, stopping for gas on the way. By the time midmorning hits, it’s all moms and old people until evening commuters fill the streets again.
I step into the glass case to fill the register, but a wisp of red catches my eye. “Gabby? Why aren’t you in school?”
Tears glisten on her cheeks. She sucks in a stuttering breath and wipes her hands across her sodden eyes, but they don’t stop coming. “He got me kicked out of school.”
“Who?” But as the words leave my mouth, the cylinders click in place. That motherfucker. “Your dad?”
“He told them I ran away and that I’m living in sin with a man twice my age. Why would he do that?” Short puffs of air beat on her lips. She falls against the pump, letting her backpack slide off her shoulder and hit the ground.
Rage simmers my blood. I cannot let this happen. With two months of school left, they cannot throw her out because of me.
I have to make this right.
“Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”
I run to my car and peel from the lot. It’s time I had a sit down with Gabby’s dad, the man to man talk we should have had months ago.
Ignoring the storm brewing in my gut, I walk up the stone path and knock on the door. Moments later, he appears on the other side. His perfectly pressed flannel shirt tucked into pleated pants, his mustache trimmed and neat under a bulbous nose. How did an asshole like this birth such a fox for a daughter?
“Mr. Donofrio,” I start, feeling small under his narrowed gaze. In my haste to run to Gabby’s aide, I didn't give a second thought to my appearance. He glares at my grease-covered tee and holey jeans. The big black boots I wear for work. I swipe the red bandana off my forehead and ball it in my hand while offering the other for him to shake. “We’ve not been properly introduced. Anthony Morello, sir.”
He scoffs at my hand as if it’s riddled with ants. “I don’t care who you are,” he sneers puffing his chest in the doorway.
“May I just have a few moments of your time?”
He steps out, letting the door close behind him. “The way I see it, you’ve taken enough away from this family.”
“Sir, if you just give me a sec—”
“I don’t owe you anything. You took my daughter and turned her against me.”
“And you think getting her kicked out of school will fix things? This is her life you’re messing with.”
Fury gleams in his dark eyes. The very same ones I’ve seen filled with love, time and time again when Gabriella looks at me. “And I’m not going to let her throw it away on a punk like you.”
“If you think it’s gonna keep us apart, you’re wrong.”
His nostrils flair. “How long do you think it’s going to be before she wises up and sees you for nothing more than what you are?”
“And what am I?”
He takes a step, forcing me back. “You’re an act of rebellion. A lowlife put here to test my faith, but I will not concede. My daughter deserves better.”
“And who are you to say who she shares her life with? It’s Gabby’s choice.”
“It’s my right as a parent to protect my child from predators.”
I gape at his response. “So now I’m a predator? With all due respect, guy, I’m not the one waving a shotgun in a residential neighborhood like a goddamn lunatic.”
“Get off my porch, or I’ll have you arrested for trespassing,” he sneers.
“I tried,” I grumble, shaking my head in disbelief. “When the regret sets in, be sure to remind yourself that you did this. It’s on you.”
He stalks down the porch steps, empty threats and insults flying through the air as I throw my car into reverse and peel out the driveway, gravel flying under my tires. Fool me twice. The anger bubbles from my chest. I swallow it down, pulling back into the Shell station.
Fuck that guy. She doesn’t need him. He doesn’t support her. He thinks less of her.
Yet his words stick in my craw as I wander to the pumps in the center of the lot. Maybe I am a loser. Maybe I’ve been coasting on this pipe dream for far too long. My own business. Truth is, I’m a gas attendant. And that’s likely all I’ll ever be.
Gabby definitely deserves better.
But as I watch her emerge from the office, my heart thrashes in my chest. It doesn’t matter what I do, I’ll always work twice as hard to make sure she’s cared for. If she lets me. I whisper my promise into the wind and watch it carry into the trees. Sealed in fate, forever.
“What happened? W
here’d you go?”
Her tears have dried but their Maybelline ravines still dirty her cheeks. I sweep my thumb over one, wishing to God I could wipe it away, but the evidence remains. She needs something stronger to scour away the filth of this day.
“I saw your dad.” Her eyes widen, her chest rising with her sharp inhale. “Rebel . . .” I trail off, feeling like an instant failure. I can restore complex engines and rebuild transmissions. I can repair almost anything, but I couldn’t fix this for her. “He wants you to choose.”
Her fingers grip my forearm, her eyes fluttering closed as she leans into my touch. “There’s no choice, Anthony. My heart belongs to you. No matter the cost.”
But fresh tears well between her lashes. This isn’t the way I hoped it would go down. Call me a sucker, but I imagined Mr. Donofrio and I would hash out our issues and walk away with a clear understanding of each other’s goals. I don’t want to take Gabby away from him.
I don’t want to ruin her life.
I just want to be with her.
“I love you.”
She threads her hands behind my back, using the sturdiness of my torso to keep her standing. “I love you, too.”
“You wanna get married?” She blinks in quick succession, her face going deadpan at my wild suggestion. “If I’m your husband, he’ll have to accept it. He’ll finally realize he can’t come between us no matter what he does.”
She studies my face, searching for signs of temporary insanity, but I’ve never felt so crystal clear in all my life. Daniel’s final words still ring in my ears.
I’m grabbing on to what makes me happy and letting nothing stand in my way.
I love this woman. I’ll go to the courthouse and marry her right now if that’s what it takes. We’re young, but our age doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except the way I feel.
“From the moment I met you, I knew there was something special between us. I didn’t know what it was then, but I felt it the day I took you to that dumb coffee shop, too, and those feelings have only gotten stronger. I can’t imagine loving you more than I do right now, but I felt that way yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that.” My hands fall to her slender hips as I drop to one knee. “I don’t know what the future holds, but I’ve never been as happy as I am waking up to you every morning, and I want that feeling every day for the rest of my life. It’s not about your dad or some stand I’m trying to make. Be my wife, Gabriella. Because I love you.”