Blackout (Revolving Door Book 2)

by Dani Matthews

  His eyes lock on mine. “I like that you sought me out last night.”

  “I feel safe with you.”

  His face twists. “How can you feel safe with me but not trust me to prove that I won’t hurt you?”

  It’s a question I’ve asked myself, and my lips part. Here we go. This is the beginning of a conversation that will change things, and I’m terrified that I might be making a mistake.

  Gabe rises from the bed, and he stands there in his navy briefs. “Forget I said anything,” he says abruptly. I watch as his expression begins to shut down. “I told you I’d be here for you when you need me, and I meant it. It’s just going to take a while to let the thought of ‘us’ go,” he says.

  “Gabe?”

  He regards me silently, waiting for another rejection.

  A knot begins to form in the center of my chest, because I’m beginning to see how deeply I’ve hurt him. “You’re right,” I say shakily. There. It’s out, and I can’t take it back.

  Gabe blinks, my admission catching him off guard. “I am?”

  I nod and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I trust you with my life, but I’m struggling with my heart. I want to be with you, I really do. You’ve said all the things I’ve dreamed of, but I’m scared to death of getting hurt again,” I say quietly.

  He moves back to the bed, sitting beside me as he looks at me intently. “I don’t blame you. All I can do is prove myself to you if given the chance. Harper, I would never hurt you. Ever.”

  “I think I’m beginning to believe it, it’s just going to take some time.”

  “Time,” he repeats. His eyes search mine. “Are you saying that there might be a chance for us after all?”

  I cautiously nod.

  Relief shines in his gaze. “Tell me what you need from me, and I’ll give it. Set the boundaries, lay it all out for me, and we’ll go from there.”

  “I don’t know what I need,” I say honestly. “Let’s just keep moving forward without putting a label on it and just take things as they happen.”

  “Done,” he says firmly. His eyes slide to the alarm clock. “As much as I’d like to continue discussing this, I don’t want to be the reason that you’re late.”

  “Right.” As I climb out of the bed and grab the sweatshirt I’d brought with me, Gabe reclines back in bed—tugging the sheet up to his waist. He looks amazing, and I look at him with confusion. “You’re going back to bed?”

  “Today, I am. I don’t want to smother you, and after our conversation this morning, you’re going to want some time to process it.”

  He knows me so well. “Thank you.”

  “Just don’t change your mind,” he says seriously.

  I smile. “I won’t.”

  After slipping out into the hall, I close Gabe’s door and turn to find Quinn just opening her own. She stands there, gaping at me.

  I’m going to be late today, but I know my supervisor won’t mark it on my record, not after what happened last weekend. I walk towards Quinn. “Morning,” I say lightly, knowing she’s about to grill me.

  Her hand snakes out and grabs my wrist, yanking me into her room before she closes the door behind us. When she releases my wrist, I spy the bruise on her own, and I frown. It looks like it encircles her wrist, almost as if something had been wrapped around it.

  “What happened to your wrist?” I ask her.

  “What?” She automatically looks down at it, and her eyes widen with surprise before she quickly schools her expression and carelessly shrugs. “I caught it in the door yesterday. I didn’t think it’d bruise.”

  She’s lying. She’s been hiding more than she’s let on about this guy she’s seeing, but if she were ready to share the details, she would have already. I know Quinn would never willingly suffer abuse of any kind, so it’s likely she got the bruise while having sex. She’s always been adventurous in all that she does, I just hope she’s being careful.

  “I thought the other night was a one-time thing with Gabe,” she says, switching the subject from her to me.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “I seem to be having a lot of revelations lately. It was time to acknowledge them and stop running,” I say truthfully.

  Quinn’s expression brightens. “You guys are dating?”

  “We’re not labeling it,” I say firmly.

  She nods. “Right. There’s no rush.” Her eyes search mine. “How did it go yesterday? At the clinic?” she asks, changing the topic once more.

  “It went okay.” I study her and realize she has no idea that there’s been a new development. “Colt and Bryce believe there might be a connection between what’s happening with me, and Carrie’s murder,” I tell her.

  She looks confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “This all started a few days after Carrie was murdered. I was at that party, Quinn. I was wandering around that night, and they think I might have seen something.”

  Her eyes widen. “Harper…”

  “Yeah,” I agree. “I have a feeling things are going to get worse before they get better.”

  Seventeen

  Harper

  Late that night, I’m in my own bed with Gabe next to me. I’d barely seen him today except for this morning. Colt had swung by the clinic after my meeting with Hulk’s owners to follow me back to the house, so I hadn’t seen Gabe until right before I’d been about to climb into bed. He hadn’t sought me out once I was home, so I’d gone about doing my own thing while wondering if I’d somehow messed things up when we’d talked last. Then, much to my relief, he’d shown up at my door, asking if I wanted him to stay with me tonight.

  So here we are. We’re both wide awake, and there’s an awkwardness lingering between us.

  I’m a little bewildered.

  He’d immediately pulled me close upon joining me in bed, and I’m enjoying this closeness with him, but the silence is strained.

  “Gabe?” I murmur in the darkness.

  “Hmm?”

  “Is it just me, or does this feel weird tonight?” I ask.

  “To be honest, I’m still trying to figure out where I stand with you,” he admits.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Before, I was pushing too much. Then, we had sex when you needed comfort, and it was supposed to remain casual. As of this morning, you’ve now agreed to see where things can go. Best damned thing to happen in a long time, but I find myself in a bit of a dilemma.”

  “How’s that?”

  His hand begins to rub my lower back. “I don’t want to push too much, but I don’t want to be just your friend. I also worry that if I say the wrong thing, you might change your mind about us.” I release a groan and try to pull away, but his arms tighten around me, keeping me close. “Oh no you don’t. Just stay right here and talk to me,” he urges.

  “I’m annoyed with how I’ve handled everything,” I say with frustration.

  “You mean this morning?” he asks cautiously.

  “No,” I assure. “I haven’t changed my mind about giving this thing between us a chance to grow. I’m referring to all the mixed signals. I completely understand why you feel confused and are taking your cues from me. In some ways, I like that I’m in control of how this develops, but I also want you to be you. I don’t want you filtering what you say for fear I’ll change my mind. We can’t build anything with that kind of foundation.”

  “Agreed,” he says quietly.

  “Just be honest with me.”

  “I will. Can I be honest right now?”

  “I expect honesty twenty-four/seven,” I say firmly.

  “I’m fine if you want to hold back on intimacy, but kissing you when I want would be nice.”

  I laugh under my breath. I can see why he’d be wondering about the sexual side of our relationship, but we aren’t in high school anymore. I have wants and needs, just like he does. “Gabe, sex is the last thing I want to hold back on. It�
�s a natural part of any relationship. The only thing I want to slow down with is the emotional aspect of it. No labels, no declarations, no practically living with one another—that kind of stuff. I can’t dive straight into this. I just want us to spend time with each other when we’re both available. That kind of ‘slow’ is what I’m referring to.”

  “You want to act like a regular couple that’s in the beginning stages of a relationship?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I confirm.

  “Except that we had sex on the first date.”

  “Right,” I say with a laugh.

  “Got it. I think I can handle that. So, let’s say I want to bury myself inside you right this very second, you’re going to want it, right?” he asks teasingly.

  “Definitely.”

  “I have one condition,” he warns, his tone turning serious.

  My body stiffens.

  “I just want the lamp on this time. I want to see you, Harper. All of you.”

  Oh. It’s just a small request, but I’m still hesitant to allow him to see my body and all the changes that have happened in the past few years.

  He shifts and touches my cheek. “I don’t know why you feel you need to hide it. I love your curves.”

  “I saw the type you typically go for,” I confess, knowing that I’m killing the mood, but it has to be said.

  “Notice that, did you?” He turns and switches on the lamp. When he turns back to me, we both squint for a second until our eyes adjust, and then his eyes lock on mine. “Tall, skinny, blonde? The exact opposite of you. You want to know why?” he asks bluntly.

  “Not really,” I mutter.

  “Because they weren’t you. They were easy to screw and walk away from. If a woman looked like you, I steered clear, because there’s only one curvaceous brunette that I want, and no one else would ever be able to replace her,” he says earnestly with intent eyes.

  My lips part.

  “Don’t you get it?” He sits up and tugs the sheets away from my body, his eyes lingering on my full breasts beneath my tank. “Those luscious globes are what my dreams are made of. I could touch them all day and be content simply doing that.” His eyes lower to my hips. “And Harper, those hips are pure perfection. Mine nestle in there just perfectly. Your body tempts me more than you’ll ever know.”

  I’m silent as I gaze up at him. His words, they touch me deeply, and yet I still feel self-conscious.

  Gabe spies it, and a look of determination falls across his features. He leans over and tugs on my tank, urging me to arch my back so that he can slip it off.

  His eyes encourage me to trust him, and I cave and ease my back off the mattress. He takes full advantage of my amenability and strips me of my tank. Without giving me a moment to doubt myself, his hands reach for my panties, and his eyes meet mine, waiting.

  I reluctantly lift my hips, and the panties are gone in a flash.

  Gabe kneels beside me, his gray eyes roaming over my body intently as I lie there. His eyes take in the neatly trimmed curls between my thighs, my small waist, and then the large globes of my breasts tipped with dark, rosy peaks.

  His eyes meet mine, and his are dark with desire. “No one can ever compare to you, Harper. Your body, it’s fucking perfection. I’ve had fantasies of pounding that ass, of cupping it, licking it, or biting it. You’d be amazed at all the ways I’ve thought about using that body of yours to make us both feel damned good.”

  All my insecurities fade away. “When did you become such a sweet talker?” I tease.

  “It’s always been there, but only for you.”

  My confidence has come back, and I rise to my knees and face him, my hand touching his chest. “You’re overdressed,” I whisper. I reach down into his briefs to cup his hardness, and I watch as his eyes darken.

  With my free hand, I reach for the back of his briefs and tug them down below his ass, freeing his erection. It juts out in my hand, and I look down and watch my hand stroke it.

  Gabe shudders, and his hand reaches for mine, stilling it. “Your body’s on display for me tonight, so I’m going to go fast,” he warns.

  My hand stills, and I look up at him to see how serious he is. His body is tense, his jaw clenched, and he’s visibly on edge. I really do this to him? I’m a bit in awe, but I tuck it away to think upon later.

  With the light on, I can now see his body too, and the fact that his body is waiting for me to touch it has my heart throbbing deeply within my chest. I’m already wet between my thighs, and all I want is to feel him moving inside me.

  With a naughty smile, I turn on the bed and shift onto all fours. Then, I press my elbows onto the mattress, allowing my forearms to rest along it. In this position, my ass is bare and ready. I look over my shoulder to see that he’s staring at the slick flesh between my legs with a look of pure hunger. “Condoms are in the nightstand drawer. No anal,” I add with a murmur, deciding it’d be wise to make my expectations known.

  Gabe seems to shake himself out of his lust-filled stupor. “No anal,” he agrees. He moves to the nightstand, and I turn forward so that I’m once more facing the headboard.

  I hear the condom tear open, and then the bed dips behind me, and his finger trails down my slit. I tremble from the sensation, and he reaches in front of my mound so that he can rub my clit. “You didn’t think we were going to dive right in, did you?” he murmurs.

  I know he’s not expecting an answer from me, so I close my eyes and enjoy the way he’s manipulating the small bud that’s causing me to rock my hips in time to his ministrations.

  “That’s it. Damn, Harper. I love watching you,” he says hoarsely from behind me.

  His boldness has me gasping, and as his finger quickens, I bite my lip and hear myself panting. “Gabe…”

  “Say my name like that again,” he growls.

  “Gabe…”

  A finger enters me while he rubs my clit. The new sensation sends me over the edge, and I cry out into the mattress.

  Gabe, having lost all patience, holds my hips in place so I can’t wilt onto the mattress, and his hardness slides in, filling me deeply. My back arches, and even as my inner muscles continue to contract from my orgasm, I’m ready for more. His hands grip my hips, and he nearly pulls out before pushing right back in, causing us to groan in unison. He draws back and then thrusts into me—a little firmer this time.

  “Harder,” I whisper.

  He begins to pump in and out of me, the tempo increasing, and I brace myself on the mattress and savor the sensation. Soon, he’s driving into me frantically, and we’re both lost.

  Eighteen

  Gabe

  The following morning, I wake before Harper. In the dim light sneaking in from between the blinds, I watch her sleep. She’s beautiful, and when she’s unaware of my scrutiny, she becomes breathtaking.

  Her chestnut hair is strewn across the pillow as she lies with her cheek pressed into its softness, her lush lips relaxed and naturally pink. As my eyes roam down her neck and bare shoulders, I find myself admiring her skin. I’ve always been fascinated by the color. She isn’t tan, but she isn’t considered pale, either. She’s just right, and when I caress her skin, it feels smooth as silk.

  My eyes drift lower to where the sheet has bared those gorgeous breasts as she lies on her side. God, those beauties are fucking amazing, and I’m going to do my damnedest to show her how truly perfect she really is.

  Her breathing hitches, and my eyes lift to her face. There’s a tiny wrinkle between her eyebrows, betraying that she’s beginning to frown. When she makes a soft sound of distress, I reach over and brush my knuckles tenderly against her cheek.

  “Shh. No one’s going to hurt you,” I whisper.

  The wrinkle slowly disappears as she releases a sigh and slips back into a deeper sleep—one unencumbered by nightmares.

  I gaze down at her, troubled that she’s in the predicament she’s in. And yet if it weren’t for this bastard that’s after her, she would have alre
ady slipped through my fingers. She’d be gone, living with someone else—likely lost to me forever.

  Instead, this terrifying ordeal that she’s living through has brought her back to me. It made her face the truth. When her life crashes around her, I’m the one that seems to steady her. She’s learning that she can rely on me, and that I’ll do anything she needs.

  Years ago, I would have resented these emotions, but now I’m learning to embrace them. If I don’t give her the deepest parts of me, she won’t trust me with those parts of herself. More than anything, I want her heart.

  I need to prove that I’ll never betray her, and yet it’s intimidating as shit. I’m unconcerned about being faithful. That part is easy, because I haven’t wanted to look at another woman in long, long time. What does concern me is what if I fuck up when it comes to the other stuff? I’ve never been in a relationship before—at least not an adult one. The odds are in my favor that I’m likely going to piss her off along the way. Relationships are never a sure thing. Shit happens.

  The worst thing I could do is overthink this between us, because I’m certain Harper’s doing enough of that for both of us. I shove my concerns out of my mind and focus on her alarm clock. It’ll go off in about thirty minutes. As much as I’d like to lie here and watch her sleep, I figure she’ll appreciate coffee more.

  I’m careful as I ease away from her, and she makes a soft sound in her sleep before rolling over onto her back, her face turned away from me.

  My eyes drop to her rosy-tipped breasts. I badly want to climb back into bed and show her how sexy I find her body, but now isn’t the time. She’d woken me multiple times last night with her restlessness, and I know she can use all the extra sleep that she can get.

  With great reluctance, I move away from the bed and pick up my briefs and jeans. After slipping them on as quietly as I can, I tug on my tee and leave her room, gently closing the door behind me.

  The house is quiet, and I make my way to the kitchen and find Channing already there, smothering a yawn as he stands in front of the toaster. His hair is damp, and he’s dressed and ready for a full day of classes at the university. He looks up and spies me. “Hey.”