A Lot Like Adiós

by Alexis Daria

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to consider something like that.

  Michelle ducked into the adjoining bathroom while Gabe stored his suitcase in the corner by the closet. When she came back, she carried an unopened box of condoms. Moving to the nightstand, she ripped the box open and set it down.

  Gabe raised an eyebrow, but she stood with her back to him. He waited near the end of the bed, unsure how to proceed. Should he go up behind her? Wait for her to come to him? Fuck, this was awkward.

  Before he could decide, Michelle stripped her tank top over her head. Gabe’s breath backed up in his throat at the sight of her bare back, and he almost choked when she shoved her shorts and panties down, giving him a full view of that gorgeous ass of hers. She reached up to pull the clip from her hair. Raven waves cascaded down her back, obscuring the bird tattoo below her neck. He’d have to examine that more thoroughly later. And then she turned to face him.

  Chest tight, he didn’t move. Her body was a revelation—narrow shoulders, full breasts that had always held a siren song over him, dusky pink nipples that he knew were as soft as rose petals, round hips that flared out from a trim waist, and strong dancer’s legs. She was thicker than she’d been in high school, but she looked strong, confident, and sexy as hell.

  Staring at her breasts, all he could think about was the last time he’d touched them. Tasted them. And how it had all gone so wrong.

  This was probably a mistake, but he didn’t fucking care. Years of pent-up desire screamed at him to close the distance between them.

  Instead, he growled, “Get over here.”

  A mischievous light sparked in her eye, and she pounced on him. He caught her in his arms and their mouths crashed together.

  Unlike their friendship, the kiss picked up right where they’d left off all those years ago.

  Back then, their kiss had been breathless and exploratory, fueled by surprise and marijuana. This kiss was rough and angry, and unbelievably hot, inflamed by years of unresolved sexual tension and emotions Gabe didn’t want to name. He ate at her mouth with his lips and tongue, unable to get enough. Michelle knocked his hat off, skimming her fingers through his short hair. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she arched her body against his. Gabe held her close, fusing them together, reveling in the feel of her tight little body pressed to his. Her curves fit perfectly against the planes and angles of his frame, and his cock hardened further, nudging at her belly. She was like living fire in his embrace, and he didn’t care if he got burned.

  “I’m still mad at you for trying to leave,” she mumbled between kisses.

  He nipped her lower lip with his teeth. “And I’m still pissed at you for trapping me in the Bronx.”

  She had the nerve to laugh, a deep throaty sound that shot heat straight through him. Then she grabbed the waistband of his pants and yanked them down. “Let’s go.”

  This was what happened when you worked in a gym. You started to view gym clothes as real clothes, which made it way too easy for a naked woman to pull your pants down.

  It made quite the case for sweatpants as day wear.

  Clad in a T-shirt and boxer briefs, Gabe glanced down at his pants around his ankles. “¿Así?”

  “Don’t be sentimental,” she said with a teasing grin.

  “All right, it’s like that.” He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, taking care to flex as much as humanly possible while he did it. Once the shirt was off, he grinned at the stunned look on Michelle’s face.

  “Holy fucking shit, Gabe. Do you even lift, bro?”

  That startled a deep laugh out of him, but it turned into a strangled gasp when she pressed her palms to his pecs and ran them down his muscles—straight toward his cock.

  “Mich—” he gasped, and she shook her head.

  “We’ve wasted enough goddamn time, Gabe. Don’t mess around.”

  God, she was amazing. As direct and irreverent as she’d always been, but somehow even sexier. “Whatever you say, babe.”

  Her hair was loose, so he sank his hands into the long mass of it, holding on for dear life as she gripped the waistband of his underwear and carefully peeled them off him.

  He was already rock hard. He’d been fighting off an erection since the moment she’d confronted him at the bottom of the stairs in a skimpy little pajama set. From his higher vantage point, he’d gotten a good look at the valley between her breasts. Then she’d had to go and cross her arms, and the sight had nearly brought him to his knees.

  If she wanted him on his knees, all she had to do was ask. He’d never been able to deny her anything.

  “Fuck, you’re big,” she said, her eyes glued to his cock.

  He suppressed a groan. “That’s what got us into trouble in the first place.”

  She met his eyes, hers holding a glint of humor. “Goddamn Lizzie DeStefano.”

  “Did she really ask you if I had a big dick?”

  “No, she said she thought you had a big dick, and then I . . .” She glanced at his cock again, her cheeks turning pink. “I was curious.”

  Michelle circled his length with strong, capable fingers, her expression pensive. “It turns out she was right.”

  “She didn’t know from experience,” Gabe ground out, because this part had seemed important all those years ago. “She and I never—”

  “Shh. I know.”

  And then Michelle gripped his cock tighter and gave it a lazy stroke. Gabe’s muscles tightened and he bit back a curse.

  God bless Lizzie DeStefano.

  Michelle’s gaze snapped back to his, as if she were waking from a spell. “Come on,” she said, letting go of him and moving to the bedside table. She took a condom out of the box and passed it to him. “Put that on.”

  He ripped it open and rolled the latex on while she flipped the comforter back.

  “What are you doing?” He’d made the bed before trying to sneak out, figuring it was the least he could do.

  Michelle sent him a bland look as she climbed onto the middle of the bed. “I’d rather not have to explain weird stains to my mother.”

  He blanched at the reminder of where they were. “Oh. Right.”

  She patted the sheets. “Now lie down.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her command but complied, stretching out on his back next to her. He reached for her, but she threw her leg over his hips, straddling him. When she rose up, positioning herself over his cock, he gripped her waist to hold her in place.

  “Espera,” he said.

  She shot him an incredulous look. “Wait for what?”

  This was going way faster than Gabe had expected. Yeah, he was ready for her, but was she ready? They’d barely touched each other, and unless you counted angry banter, there’d been little in the way of foreplay.

  Gabe loved foreplay. Learning every inch of someone’s body, losing himself in their kisses, hearing the sounds they made as they came. He desperately wanted to do those things with Michelle.

  Not only that, he was big. He wanted to make sure she was ready to take him.

  When she rubbed her pussy along his cock, he groaned, fighting for control. “I don’t want to hurt you, Mich.”

  She leaned down, her breasts a warm, heavy weight on his chest. “You won’t.”

  Just to be sure, Gabe reached between them to check for himself, finding her hot and slick with desire.

  Before he could explore further, she sank onto him, her core enveloping his cock inch by inch. They worked together—Michelle angling her pelvis, Gabe holding her hips to keep her steady—until he was fully sheathed inside her. Michelle let out a long sigh, like she’d been holding her breath, and Gabe flexed his fingers on her round ass, trying not to move.

  “Fuck,” they said in unison, then laughed. Something between them lightened in that moment, despite the vibrating tension in his body and hers. They’d always laughed easily together.

  Michelle pressed her face into his neck, but his mouth f
ound hers and he kissed her long and slow, one hand skimming lazily up and down her back, the other sliding into her hair, massaging gently.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispered against her lips, holding her close. “I’ve got you.”

  She propped herself up with her hands on his shoulders, leaning away from him. He couldn’t read her expression, but then the corner of her mouth curved in a smirk he’d seen a million times before.

  “You ready?” she murmured with a devilish lilt.

  “Fuck yeah.” The words rasped like sandpaper, pulled from the deepest part of him, where he’d locked away all his feelings for this woman. He’d dreamed about this moment, and his imagination had nothing on the reality. The feel of her clenched around him, her thighs clamped tight on his hips, her hand exploring the contours of his muscles—he couldn’t hold back another second.

  He slammed his hips up into her and she gasped, her head falling back, fingernails digging into his biceps. When he paused, thinking he’d hurt her, she smiled dreamily.

  “I’m okay. You just surprised me.”

  He slid his hands up to cup her breasts, letting her control the rhythm. “Move on me, mami.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Dude, you did not just call me mami.”

  He let out a chuckle that turned into a moan when she rocked on him. “You can take the boy outta the Bronx . . .”

  She pursed her lips, as if holding back a smile. “Shut up. Papi chulo.”

  And then she started to move, setting the pace, taking him slow but deep. Her breasts swayed in front of his face, and he raised his head to capture one nipple in his mouth, dragging his tongue over it. He ran his thumb over her other nipple, relishing the feel of her softness filling his hand, her warm skin against his lips and tongue.

  She dug her nails into his arms again, the tiny pinpricks anchoring his body as waves of pleasure threatened to carry him away.

  “Fuck.” Gabe slammed his head back against the pillow. His hands fisted in the bedding. This was nothing like how he’d imagined this morning going and, right now, he didn’t fucking care. He didn’t care about anything except the feel of her body moving over his.

  “Michelle.” His voice was hoarse with need. He wrapped his arm around her, drawing her down to kiss her deeply. With his other hand, he worked his thumb between them, groaning when he found her clitoris. She moaned against his mouth, her movements becoming less fluid, more erratic.

  She buried her face in his neck but he gently cupped the back of her head. “Look at me, baby,” he murmured. Whether it was instinct or memory, something told him she was trying to hide. “Let me see you.”

  Her eyes opened, heavy-lidded, almost reluctant. He sped up his ministrations, rubbing circles over her clit. Her lashes lowered again and he kissed her face, whispering, “Open your eyes.”

  He wanted to make her come, wanted to see her as she shattered. But when she opened her eyes, he saw a flash of something that might have been fear in their honey-colored depths. Then she bit her lip as her body twitched on top of him. She was close to climax.

  Gabe closed his own eyes and kissed her. As much as he wanted to watch her reaction, there was something too intimate about it. Yeah, his cock was currently buried inside her, shuttling back and forth in the wet heat of her pussy, but being eye to eye while she came? It was more vulnerability than either of them was ready for.

  He kissed her through it instead, swallowing her soft cries. He held her tight as her core spasmed and her body shook with tremors of release on top of him.

  And when she was done, her body draped limply across his, he gripped her hips. “Baby, I gotta—”

  “Do it,” she murmured.

  He flipped her over and fucked her.

  It didn’t take long, just a few more strokes. He’d barely held it together while she’d come apart on his cock. With his face pressed into the curve of her neck, with her limbs wrapped around him like vines, he gave one last thrust. And came with a low groan.

  Breathing harshly, he felt his pulse thundering in his ears like an oncoming 2 train rattling along the elevated track. All the strength drained from him, and with it, the impulse to run.

  As his scattered thoughts returned, he was aware of every inch of his skin against hers. Her soft breasts pillowing his chest, her strong thighs hugging his waist, her hands resting on his lower back, her breath tickling his ear.

  And in the back of his mind, all he could think was that they’d finally done it. They’d had sex.

  As much as Gabe loved the feeling of being inside her, he was softening. He had to get rid of the condom, and Michelle probably didn’t enjoy being crushed by him.

  With great effort, he rolled off her, flopping onto his back.

  I just had sex with Michelle, he thought, staring at the ceiling. I just. Had sex. With Michelle.

  Fuck. Now what did they do?

  Michelle cleared her throat. “Did we just have angry sex?” she asked softly.

  “Not angry,” he replied. “Just . . . mildly disgruntled.”

  She huffed out a laugh. “Well, this is awkward.”

  Gabe swallowed hard. His heart still pounded his rib cage like fists against a punching bag. “You’re right,” he rasped.

  “I know.”

  He shook his head. “No, I mean . . . we do have unresolved . . .”

  “Issues?” she suggested. “Baggage? Tension?”

  “All of that.” He turned to look into her eyes, and his heart flip-flopped in his chest. How was it possible to feel utterly satisfied but also terrified about what was to come? “I owe it to you to stay here and work this out.”

  Her expression softened and she looked away to gaze up at the ceiling. “For how long?”

  “Until I leave on Friday.” He didn’t know if she meant staying or screwing, but either way, Friday was the end.

  She nodded, still not looking at him. After a moment, she asked, “What are we doing here, Gabe?”

  “I don’t know. But I don’t regret it.” Sex had unlocked something between them. Or maybe that kiss all those years ago had turned the key, and now they were finally opening the door to see what was inside.

  Michelle let out a soft sigh. “Neither do I.”

  “I did miss you,” he admitted.

  “You said that in your email.”

  Gabe slid his hand over sheets warmed by their bodies until he found hers on the bed between them, then he laced their fingers together. “And I’m sorry.”

  Her lips curved, but she still didn’t look at him. “You already said that too.”

  “I needed to say it again.” He waited until she turned her face to him before he went on. “Mich, I’m sorry I lied about leaving. I didn’t know how to tell you, and it took so much finagling—a private scholarship, scraping together loans—I didn’t know it was happening for sure until late in the process.”

  Her mouth tightened. “You still could have told me what you were planning.”

  “I could have. But I also had this feeling, like if I said it out loud to anyone, it would fall apart. Or my parents would find out and somehow put a stop to it.”

  “You were already eighteen.”

  “You know that didn’t matter in my house. My father was in total control, and if he knew . . . You remember how he was.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I guess he was pretty hard on you.”

  I’m eighteen now.

  What, you think that’s some magic number?

  You can’t control me anymore!

  Gabe shut his eyes against the memories. “He’d have worn me down, day after day, with lectures about family and responsibility, about being realistic and not making stupid choices.”

  “But I wouldn’t have done that. And I wouldn’t have told your parents.”

  He opened his eyes again. “What if you’d tried to stop me?”

  “I didn’t, though. When you finally told me—or, rather, when I found out—I didn’t tell you to stay.”

/>   “Because you were angry. If I’d told you earlier, you might have persuaded me not to leave.” He’d hated the thought of leaving her, but he’d also been terrified that he would throw away all his carefully laid plans if she asked.

  Michelle arched a brow. “Well, I guess we’ll never know, will we? You didn’t tell me until the last fucking minute, and then you cut me out of your life.”

  Gabe’s throat tightened as he remembered the way they’d argued that last time, remembered how much it had hurt. “Because I would’ve come back for you.”

  She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know if I believe you.”

  He gave a little shrug. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

  “Only because you need me to work on your gym launch.”

  He sighed. “I wish that were the only reason. It would make all of this easier if it were.”

  “You said downstairs you never made a move because we were friends.”

  “That’s right.”

  “You mean because you didn’t want to ruin the friendship?”

  “That, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. And what if you . . .” He trailed off, unable to voice his old fears, even now.

  What if she didn’t love him back?

  “What if I wasn’t attracted to you?” she asked.

  Sure, that was good enough. “Yeah.”

  “Don’t be silly, Gabe. You were, and are, very attractive.”

  “Then why didn’t you make a move?”

  “I was about as obvious as someone could be. How many times did I sit on your lap or ask for a back massage?”

  “I thought you acted that way because we were best friends.”

  “It was because we were best friends. I trusted you. I was closer to you than anyone else outside of my family. And I thought the attraction was just . . . a natural offshoot of my affection for you, as my friend. I didn’t really think about it more than that.”

  “Oh, I sure the hell thought about it. A lot.”

  “It did cross my mind, but as a . . . future thing. Like maybe someday we’d take that step, but I didn’t need to force it. You were a constant. My hot best friend. It didn’t bother me that we dated other people. You were still mine, and I was yours. That was all I needed. And then . . .”