I don’t even really like chocolate cake. I’m more of a vanilla and buttercream frosting kind of girl. It was just the point that I couldn’t have it. By the third day of that diet, I was stuffing my face with a slice of decadent chocolate cake I bought at the local supermarket. I ate it for dinner.
Never went back on that carbs only diet either.
Gabe is my proverbial slice of chocolate cake. Hell, he’s the entire cake. I’m normally not a huge fan, it’s never been my usual craving, but oh wow, when I want it, I become desperate. I’ll do anything to have just one taste.
Just one.
“No more diets, Lucy,” he murmurs against my lips. His deep, sexy voice pulls me from my thoughts, reminds me that I can have another taste of my newfound craving right now. “I like you just as you are. I wish you would too.”
His words melt me further. Why is he so perfect? God, he makes me crazy. Insane. He starts to kiss me again and I lose myself in it, his hands fully beneath my shirt now, his fingers toying with the lacy edge of my bra. I pull away from him, remembering that we’re in the living room. His sister is sleeping on the couch and his parents could walk through the front door at any given moment.
“I should go,” I say, releasing a shaky breath as I glance around the room. I only brought my phone and a set of keys, both of which are on me so I can go. I should go.
But it’s like I can’t make my legs move.
He studies me, his lips swollen and damp from our kisses, his hair a mess from my fingers. He takes hold of my hand, interlacing our fingers together. It’s like he’s touching the very depths of my soul, which is totally corny right? Who thinks like that, let alone really feels like that?
Me. I do. Oh my God, I do. Gabe’s eyes are warm as they study me and he reaches out with his free hand, draws his finger up my cheek, tucking a wild strand of hair behind my ear. “Come on,” he murmurs.
When he speaks to me in that low, seductive tone, I feel all shivery inside. A feeling I want to experience again.
And again.
He gently tugs on my hand and I follow after him like I can’t do anything else, and I swear, I can’t. I don’t want to go anywhere else. I definitely don’t want to go back to that giant, lonely house and crawl into my empty, lonely bed. Whatever he wants to do, I’m up for it.
I blow out a shaky breath. Fine, I’m a little nervous. Okay, a lot nervous. But I’m up for it.
Totally up for it.
When he remains silent, I finally can’t take it anymore. “Where are we going?” I ask as he leads me up the stairs.
“My room.” He glances over his shoulder, his gaze direct, his intentions beyond clear. “Is that okay?”
Is it? My rational side is telling me to decline. Every other part of my body is screaming at me to say yes.
So I do.
The bedroom he brings me into is dark, the only light let in from the blinds on the window that are slightly cracked. The moon was full, it had been for days and it causes silvery lines to streak across the walls and floor. I stand completely still, glancing around as Gabe shuts the door behind us and when he turns to face me, all I can see are his eyes and his lips.
My mouth goes dry as our gazes hold. I’m immobilized, unable to say anything or make the first move. Not that I have to.
Our fingers still intertwined, he pulls me in close, settling his mouth on mine without an ounce of hesitation. His kiss is confident, swiftly taking but also offering so much too, and I open to him immediately, trying my best to shut off my brain, to stop thinking and just feel. That’s all I want, is to feel Gabe’s hands on me, his lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth. He releases my hand and cups my face, making me feel cherished. Cared about.
Silly. We’ve only just met. I don’t know much about him, not really. We’ve hung out a few times, we’ve kissed. We’ve fought our sexual attraction and right about now, it looks like we’ve lost.
Not that I’m protesting…
But he’s practically a stranger and I don’t do this sort of thing with men I don’t know. I do know Gabe doesn’t really like his parents. He’s very protective of his sister, though he plays it off. He’s thoughtful. Funny. Kind. A drill sergeant when it comes to exercise. He tastes good—like, really good. I like his smile. He’s sexy. Those eyes of his seem to see everything, even the things I absolutely don’t want him to know. He’s a good driver, though a little reckless. In fact, he’s a little reckless with everything he does, not that that’s necessarily a bad trait. He’s smart. I like talking to him. I really like kissing him.
Huh. Maybe I know him better than I thought.
“Your brain.” He pulls away from me, his brows furrowed, his thumbs smoothing over my cheeks in this soothing back and forth motion that makes me want to purr like a cat.
Or jump him. Hmm, yeah jump him. That sounds perfect.
Wait, where did that thought come from? I’m a virgin for a reason. I don’t give in easily. I never have. I’ve never really been tempted.
Until Gabe.
“My what?” I ask, confused. Aroused. Wait, did he say my brain?
“Your brain. You’re thinking too much.” He kisses my temple tenderly, his soft lips lingering on my skin and making my knees weak. “You need to relax.”
Thinking too much. He’s right. And that’s exactly what I didn’t want to do—overthinking everything. It’s such an ingrained habit though. “I can’t help it,” I admit, closing my eyes on a sigh when he kisses my cheek, my ear, the left corner of my mouth. The right. Teasing, sweet kisses that make my head swim. “You make me nervous.”
He pulls away, frowning again. “That’s the last thing I want to do.”
“I know. It’s not really you. This is all on me.” I rest my hands on his chest, slowly dragging my fingers down the muscular planes. Wow, he’s so incredibly hard. I glance up to see a pained expression cross his face and I immediately remove my hands from him, thinking I’m the cause.
“Christ, don’t stop,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Put your hands back on me, Luce. Please.”
I do as he says, running my hands over his pecs, up to his shoulders, then back down, along his stomach, until I reach the hem of his T-shirt. Lifting my head, I see that he’s watching me, his neck bent, his intense gaze locked on my hands. I want to say something. Demand he let me take his shirt off. I mean, I don’t want to take this all the way, not tonight. I’m not ready.
But if he’ll let me explore and…play, I’ll gladly return the favor.
My cheeks burn just thinking about it.
“Are you trying to strip me?” he finally asks when I remain silent. Amusement laces his voice and he’s smiling. This is encouraging.
I raise my brows. “Will you let me?” Please say yes.
All traces of amusement evaporate. Just like that. “I’ll let you do just about anything you want to if I can get those hands of yours on me.”
Okay. That was hot. Gabe always knows just what to say. “Let’s take your shirt off then,” I whisper.
He takes a step back and reaches behind his neck, pulling his shirt off in that easy, wholly masculine way guys do. I watch, breathless when he reveals all that hard, bare skin, my gaze roving over him like a starving woman who just caught sight of her first meal in years.
I’ve seen his chest before. Many times. He roams around here in only his swim trunks approximately eighty-five percent of the time, I swear. He’s on vacation after all. Mama told me a lot of the houses in the neighborhood are rented out during the summer. That I lucked out with the Walkers renting the house while I’m next door is a wondrous little fact I haven’t failed to notice.
As in, I’m feeling pretty damn lucky this summer. Even luckier that he’s so interested me. Boring, poor little me. I’m a nobody. I’ve always been a nobody but Gabe makes me feel…special. Like I’m sexy. Like I’m the only girl that matters to him. And I like that. I love it.
But enough about me and how Gabe makes me feel. Rig
ht now, I’m interested in examining his chest in an up close and personal way. He’s not outrageously built. Not too intimidating like some overly muscular guy with bulging, rippling muscles and six pack abs. Gabe’s got a sexy body but it’s not over the top. Firm, not an inch of fat on him anywhere, with normal abs, with just a hint of definition.
I better touch his stomach to make sure.
I skim my fingers over his stomach, the muscles flinching beneath my touch. I’m fascinated with his reaction and touch him again, tracing a circle around his navel, running that same finger down the thin path of hair that leads from his belly button straight down, past the waistband of his shorts. His skin is so hot and the dark hair is so soft…
Gabe snatches my wrist, his fingers locking around it, stopping me. I look up at him, see the firm lock of his jaw, his mouth thin. “You want me to stop?” I ask.
“Only if you’re teasing me.” He closes his eyes briefly, his fingers flexing around my wrist, though he doesn’t let me go. “You’re making me crazy, Lucy.”
Oh, he’s extra pretty like this, so tortured, with those sexy, hooded eyes and grim determination written all over him. He blows out a harsh breath. I feel sort of bad for putting him through this but then again, I like it. That I’m the one who’s responsible for his torture, for making him feel this way.
I can’t say a word in response but I hope he can sense my eagerness, my need. For him.
My surrender.
His gaze never leaves mine as he lets go of my wrist and rests his hands on my waist, walking me backward. The back of my legs hit the edge of the bed and then I’m falling down, landing on the mattress with Gabe braced above me.
Air seizes in my lungs when he flexes his hips and I feel the hard length of him against me. I’m amazed that I have this sort of effect on him. That he wants me.
“Will you let me take this off?” He toys with the hem of my shirt and my already racing heart picks up speed. Should I let him? “I want to feel your skin against mine.”
Oh. Well. Yes, I should definitely let him.
Without a word I nod, sinking my teeth into my lower lip. He lifts away from me and edges my shirt upward, slowly exposing my rounded stomach, the fabric catching on my breasts. Slightly mortified at my too big chest, I close my eyes and lift my arms, allowing Gabe to pull the shirt completely off of me.
Which he does because he’s a guy and he wants to check me out. I don’t mind. I want to do this. I want him to see me. I swear I feel his gaze roaming all over me, lingering on my breasts. They’re spilling out of the top of my pale blue lace bra and I hope he doesn’t think I look too fat. I can’t help that my boobs are so big...
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his reverent tone causing my eyes to flash open. I see the appreciative glow in his gaze and my skin warms.
Before I can say anything he claims my mouth, kissing me, his hands on my chest. I arch into his touch, the whimper that escapes me he swallows whole. He ends the kiss almost as fast as he started it and runs his nose along my neck, inhaling deeply. “Damn, you smell good.”
I drape my arms across his shoulders, lightly scratching his back with my fingernails. He shifts closer to me, a soft groan falling from his perfect lips just before he captures mine once more, his tongue busy, his hands busier. Those very busy hands are cupping my breasts, holding them, lightly massaging them and oh God, it feels so good. So unbelievably, amazingly good that I want more. I writhe beneath him, trying to get closer, desperate to absorb him and when he lightly brushes my hard nipples with his thumbs I feel like I’m about to leap out of my skin.
“Sensitive,” he murmurs against my lips, sounding pleased. “Fuck, you are perfect, Luce.”
He told me that once more and I didn’t believe him. If he keeps saying it though, I’m going to start thinking he might be speaking the truth. Maybe I am perfect.
Perfect just for him.
Damn, she feels good beneath me. All warm, soft skin and delicious curves I want to sink into. Her tits are spectacular and I want to tear that lacy bra she’s wearing to shreds so I can expose her completely.
I’m dying to see her naked. Fucking dying for it.
It surprises me how eager she is, how much she seems to want it. Want me. I need to be careful. She’s a virgin. She won’t let me in, not tonight, no matter how persuasive I might be.
And I can be pretty damn persuasive.
I won’t be with Lucy, though. I don’t want to push too hard and force her to do something she’ll later regret. Pushing and forcing a girl to do anything definitely isn’t my style and I’m not about to start with Lucy. I want to be patient for her. Worthy of her giving me her virginity…
Pausing, I lift my head and stare at the wall. Wait a minute. I want Lucy to give me her virginity? Me, the guy who thought he was doing the right thing by walking away from her? By telling her I’m the wrong guy for her?
I might still be the wrong guy for her but I’m starting to think that doesn’t matter anymore. Hell, I don’t think it matters to her either. The attraction between us is so strong it’s ridiculous. Every time we get near each other it’s like we’re filled with the overwhelming need to get our mouths together and tear each other’s clothes off.
Which is fucking hot. There might be no fucking happening tonight but we can do other stuff. And that other stuff can be just as hot as the actual deed is.
“Hey.” Lucy touches my cheek and I glance down at her, noting her flushed cheeks, her plump mouth. What I would give to see those lips stretched around the head of my dick… “You okay?”
Nodding, I take a deep breath. I can’t tell her what I was thinking. She’ll think I’m an asshole. I can’t ask for a blowjob. But a hand job would be good. Damn good. I’d return the favor too. I’m a generous guy. It’s better to give than to receive and all that shit.
“I’m good,” I say, pausing when I think I hear a car pull into the front driveway of the house. Shit.
Lucy goes still beneath me, the only movement being her chest as she breathes. Meaning I’m immediately enthralled with the rise and fall of her breasts. “Did you hear that?” she whispers.
I stay where I’m at, my gaze locked on her tits, my body just as still as Lucy’s is. “Hear what?” I whisper back, playing dumb.
A car door slams, followed rapidly with another one and I wince. That is sure as fuck my parents. Their timing is impeccable. “Oh shit, your parents are home!” She shoves at my chest, trying to get me off her but I won’t budge. “Come on, Gabe!”
“Come on, Gabe what?” I bend down and kiss her, swiping my tongue along the inside of her upper lip. The sexy sound she makes sends a jolt straight to my dick. It was also kind of loud. “Sshh, baby. Be quiet. They won’t even know you’re here.”
“Oh, God,” she murmurs against my lips, her breath huffing across my face just before I kiss her on the lips again. Once. Twice. Then I move down, kissing her neck, her collarbone, her chest, the tops of her breasts.
She doesn’t stop me, doesn’t shove me off and I take that as a good sign, so I keep going.
Her hands come up to cup the back of my head, holding me to her. My mouth drifts down, tracing the lacy edge of her bra with my tongue, her hard nipples poking against the thin fabric. The front door opens, I hear Mom’s shrill voice calling my sister’s name echo in the foyer but I press on, ignoring her. Pushing her voice out of my head so I can concentrate on Lucy.
I trace my fingers down her belly until I’m at the waistband of her shorts. I make quick work of the button and zipper, spreading the open fabric wide, pressing my fingers against the front of her damp cotton panties.
“Gabe.” She moans my name and though I love the sound, she needs to be careful. I can’t let anyone hear us. I send her a look, one that I hope says shut up and I continue to stroke her, above the panties, my mouth above the bra. Trying not to push her too far because if she makes me stop, I’m going to be pissed. Not at her, but at myself.
&nbs
p; I don’t wanna stop.
I slip my fingers just beneath the waistband of her panties and she whimpers. I skim over her pubic hair, the heat of her like a beacon I’m desperate to find. I cup her, apply just the right amount of pressure so she opens up to me and she lifts her hips like she wants more.
Ah fuck, she’s soaked. I start to move my fingers, brushing her swollen clit with my thumb, gently searching her folds. I don’t want to hurt her. A pussy is a beautiful thing but they are extra sensitive and you fuck with a girl in that way—the wrong way—she will hate you forever.
Girls need a sign over their pussy that says handle with care.
My breath hitches in my throat as I continue to stroke her hot, slick skin. Her hips start to thrust in rhythm with my touch, a little sigh escaping her. I hear footsteps on the stairs. The low murmur of voices rising as my parents head toward the second floor. I glance up to find Lucy watching me, dark eyes wide, expression panicked and I rear up, drop a kiss on her lips, my hand still between her legs.
“Feels good?” I whisper against her cheek just before I kiss it.
She nods furiously. “So good,” she chokes out.
I smile, pleased that she seems so overwhelmed she can hardly speak. “Good, because you feel fucking amazing, Luce. So wet for me. Have you been this wet for me all this time? I swear to God I’ve been hard since the first moment I set eyes on you.”
Lucy wavers. I love that my words have enough power to make her react. She loves it when I talk to her like this and I haven’t done it enough. I continue to explore the wet, pliant flesh between her thighs, searching her folds, slipping just the tip of my index finger inside of her. She’s fucking tight. Unbelievably tight.
I’m going to blow my load before I even get inside her and I can’t remember the last time I did something like that.
Wait. I’m getting ahead of myself. I won’t be inside Lucy tonight. I need to slow down my train of thought.
In The Dark Page 10