Could Be the Reason: (Gabe and Sadie) (A Back to Jetty Beach Romance Book 3)

by Claire Kingsley

  She leans her face next to mine, brushing the side of her cheek against my jaw. I’d love to thread my hands through her hair, take her mouth in a kiss. But I don’t. I lie as still as I can, riding out the slow torture of her skin against mine.

  Her lips press against my neck. I ball my hands into fists and my dick strains against my underwear, the tip peeking out the top. The jasmine scent of her hair fills my nose.

  She kisses down my chest and another low groan escapes my throat. Her mouth feels so good. I resist the urge to touch her—to slide my hand up her ribcage and cup her breast. She goes lower and I groan again. I don’t know how she’s doing this, but I’m on fire, my cock uncomfortably hard.

  Our eyes meet and she licks her lips. “You still won’t move?”

  “Not until you say otherwise.”

  “What if I do this?” She throws one leg over me and straddles my thighs, my aching cock in front of her.

  “You’re in control, baby.”

  “Can I do this?” She pulls up on the hem of her t-shirt.

  I nod and she pulls it over her head, revealing full tits and perfect pink nipples. Oh fuck. My balls clench and I squeeze my eyes shut.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks.

  I take a deep breath before answering. I’m on the verge of losing control and she hasn’t even touched my cock. “God, Sadie, you’re so fucking beautiful. I don’t know if I can look at you like this without coming all over myself.”

  Her thighs clench around my legs and I hear her gasp. Hands trace the waistband of my underwear and I clamp my teeth together.

  “Baby, one wrong move and I’m going to come,” I say, my eyes still closed.

  Her voice is soft and she pulls down my underwear, freeing my cock. “What if I want you to?”

  I take a ragged breath. “I told you, you can do whatever you want. I’m just warning you.”

  “Look at me,” she says.

  I open my eyes and stare at her. Bright green eyes stare back and she bites down on her lower lip, her hands resting on my lower abdomen. She looks down at my cock and I follow her gaze. A bead of moisture glistens on the tip.

  She shifts her position, moving up my legs so the apex of her thighs rests just below my balls. I groan and close my eyes again, clenching my fists.

  “Do you hate this?” she whispers.

  “No.”

  She rolls her hips forward, almost pressing her pussy against my cock. “I want to, Gabriel, but I don’t think I can yet.”

  “It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

  “What would you do if I had to stop now?” she asks.

  “To you? Nothing,” I say. “But I’d need a few minutes in the bathroom.”

  “Why won’t you look at me?” she asks.

  I realize my eyes are closed again. I open them and meet her gaze. “I’m trying to stay in control and it’s really fucking hard when I look at you.”

  “Will you tell me what you want to do to me?” she asks.

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  She nods, biting down on her lower lip, her hands resting on my abs. “I want you to tell me. I need to hear it.”

  “I want to take off your shorts. Then I’d use my fingers to touch you, caress you, help you relax. I’d play with you to make you wet—make you want my cock inside you.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then I’d lick my fingers to taste you.”

  She gasps and her thighs flex against my legs again.

  “I’d roll you onto your back and very slowly push my cock into your wet pussy. And baby, I’d enjoy every aching second of that first thrust.”

  She shifts her hips again and my balls tighten.

  “Fuck, Sadie.” My breath quickens and my heart beats hard. “I’d fuck you like no one has ever fucked you before. I’d kiss you everywhere while I plunge my cock into you. Your face. Your lips. I’d suck on those gorgeous nipples and drive us both crazy.”

  My cock aches so badly if she so much as touches me, I’m going to explode.

  “What else?” she whispers, her voice full of urgency.

  “I’d fuck you until you’re calling my name, until your pussy is so hot you can’t think. Your pussy would clench around my cock, and you’d come so hard you won’t know where you are.”

  “Oh, god,” she says.

  “Then I’d unload in you,” I say. “I’d come in you, and the feel of my cock pulsing inside you would make you come again.”

  A soft moan escapes her lips and she shifts her hips forward again, rubbing her pussy against my cock.

  “Oh fuck, Sadie,” I growl.

  She leans forward, letting her tits hit my chest, her hands on either side of me. She rubs against me again and my balls draw up tight. I grip the sheets, my fingers clenching around the fabric.

  My words are strangled; I can barely get them out. “I’m gonna come if you do that again.”

  Two quick thrusts of her hips and her hot pussy strokes across my massively sensitive cock. My eyes roll back, my back tightens, and I unleash. Come spurts hot between our bodies. I growl with every pulse. She keeps moving, her erect nipples dragging across my skin, the heat of her pussy rubbing on my cock, so good even through her clothes. I groan again, the waves of my orgasm rolling through me.

  It finally subsides and Sadie collapses on top of me. Her breath is warm against my neck, her body draped across mine.

  I’m not sure if she wants me to move yet, but the desire to hold her is too much. Tentatively, I wrap my arms around her and hold her close. She stays relaxed, so I keep her in my arms and close my eyes, breathing her in, reveling in the release she gave me.

  After long moments, she sits up, straddling my hips, and I drop my arms to my sides.

  “Thank you,” she says.

  I’m glad she feels good about this, but I hate that she got me off and I didn’t do anything for her. “Do you want anything else?”

  “Like what?”

  “Do you want me to make you feel good?”

  “You already did,” she says.

  “Not good enough,” I say.

  “I don’t know if I can anymore,” she says.

  “You don’t know if you can come?” I ask.

  She shakes her head.

  I gently caress her thighs. “Maybe you can let me try someday.”

  She gives me a shy smile and nods. “I’m sorry if this was too much.”

  “Baby, you don’t need to apologize,” I say. “I wanted to do this for you.”

  She glances down at her stomach, then mine, both sticky with my come. “I didn’t think that would happen.”

  “I don’t think I can help it with you,” I say.

  “Can I tell you something?”

  “Of course.”

  She chews on her lip before answering. “It felt good when you came on me.”

  I squeeze her legs again. “That felt incredible. I hope you’ll let me do more someday. I want to do that inside you.”

  “I want that too,” she says, her voice quiet.

  Her words hit me in the chest and squeeze my heart. I can see how wounded she is. On the outside, she’s perfect—beautiful and unblemished. But on the inside, she’s been torn to shreds.

  “Don’t be afraid,” I say. “If you want to do this again, we can. But you don’t have to make me come. You don’t owe me anything. We can do whatever you need so you feel comfortable. So you feel safe with me.”

  She takes a shuddering breath and a tear slides down her cheek. “Thank you. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but you’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met.”

  I push myself up and shift so I’m sitting with Sadie in my lap. I wrap my arms around her and hold her close. Her arms fold around my neck and I feel her take deep breaths, her breasts pressing against my chest. Her skin feels so good. I could sit with her like this all day.

  She pulls away and looks down. “Maybe we should clean up.” />
  “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

  She touches my face, her hand caressing my jaw. “Will you shower with me?”

  “Of course, if you want me to.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  I lean in and kiss her lips softly, keeping my grip on her light so she knows I’ll let go if she needs me to. We get up and go into the bathroom, stripping off the last of our clothes and letting them fall to the floor. I’m sated, but my cock reacts to the sight of her exquisite body. Her round breasts. The soft curve of her waist into her hips. Her toned thighs.

  She glances down at my cock and raises her eyebrows. “Are we sure I’m safe to shower with him?”

  I laugh. “This is what happens when you’re so damn sexy. But yes, of course you’re safe.”

  We get in and rinse off under the warm water. I turn her gently so her back faces the spray and wash her hair, running my fingers along her scalp. When we’re both rinsed off, she turns and without a word, wraps her arms around me. She presses her naked body against mine and I feel the soft trembling in her shoulders as she cries.

  I hold her beneath the warm water, my chest aching. She splits my heart in two, the edges ragged and bleeding. Suddenly, I know something with every fiber of my being.

  I’ll do anything to help her heal.

  16

  Gabe

  The kitchen is quiet in the early morning. Linda is the only other one here, and her office is upstairs. Technically, I’m not supposed to be here. It’s my day off. But I’m having an issue with one of our suppliers, and I figured I’d come in and see if I can deal with it.

  Of course, I don’t need to do this today. This issue isn’t pressing. I could deal with it later in the week. But I woke up this morning—alone, because Sadie didn’t stay over last night—and I was restless. I used to draw on that pent-up energy and use it in my cooking. But I didn’t even want to look at my kitchen today.

  My phone dings with a text. It’s from Sadie.

  Sadie: Morning, sexy.

  Me: Hi, beautiful. Sleep well?

  Sadie: More or less. You?

  Me: Sort of. I missed you.

  Sadie: Me too. Do you have anything going on today? We’re both off until Wednesday.

  It’s true, we are both off on the same days. That’s not a coincidence. I made sure Sadie and I have the same schedule. One of the perks of being the boss, I guess. I was planning to text her after I got some work done; I wasn’t sure she’d be up this early.

  Me: Just getting a few things done at the restaurant. Then I’m free. Have something in mind?

  Sadie: You’re at work?

  Me: Yeah. But I’d love to see you today.

  Sadie: Okay. Text me when you’re done?

  Me: Will do.

  I almost add something else, and the words are already typed before I realize what I’m saying. I quickly backspace, deleting it. It felt so natural to end with it. To say Love you.

  I’m glad I caught myself. We haven’t said those words to each other, and the first time can’t be in a stupid text message. Although it says something that it came so easily.

  Probably because it’s true.

  I do love her. I love her like crazy. And it’s not even something that scares me. I guess I’m pretty far beyond being a guy afraid of commitment—afraid of what it means to utter those words to someone else. Of course, I’ve kind of been there, done that, and it didn’t work out so well for me.

  But Sadie is different. It doesn’t matter what she’s running from, or what she has in her past. I want to be her future.

  I turn my attention back to work. The sooner I get done, the sooner I can be with her. I search through some scanned documents, looking for the agreement with the supplier. It reminds me of some other issues Linda sent that I need to see to. This isn’t my favorite part of business ownership, but it has to be done.

  “Hey.”

  Sadie’s voice jolts me from concentration.

  “Hey,” I say, furrowing my brow. She’s standing in my office doorway, dressed in light blue shirt and khaki capris, a pair of strappy sandals on her feet. “How did you get here so fast?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t think I did. I texted you half an hour ago.”

  “Did you?” I ask. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention to the time.”

  “I have an idea,” she says. There’s energy in her voice. Excitement. Her green eyes sparkle and the corners of her lips twitch in a mischievous smile.

  “Yeah?”

  “Let’s go out of town,” she says.

  I shrug. “Sure. When?”

  “Now.”

  “Now?” I ask. “As in, right now?”

  “Yes,” she says. “We don’t have to go far. But you need a couple of real days off, and I think the only way to keep you from coming in here is to get you out of town.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but it’s hard to deny that she’s right when I’m sitting at my desk on my day off.

  “Please,” she says, clasping her hands together in a mimicry of begging.

  Like I could deny this woman anything.

  “Okay,” I say. “Where do you want to go?”

  “I don’t know,” she says. “Actually, I thought I’d have a harder time convincing you. I didn’t think past how I was going to get you to agree. Emma said I’d have better luck amputating your arm than pulling you away from work for two days.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “Sounds like something my sister would say.” I pause for a moment, considering. “You know what? A friend of mine has a cabin that’s a couple hours from here. He told me I can use it anytime, but I’ve never taken him up on it. Let me text him and see if it’s free.”

  “That sounds perfect,” she says.

  I fire off a text to my friend Joe and much to my surprise, he answers immediately. The cabin is free, and I’m more than welcome to use it. He sends me the code for the door, and tells me to have a great time.

  “Wow,” I say. “That was easy. I guess we’re on.”

  “Maybe it was fate,” she says.

  “Now you sound like Clover.”

  An hour later, we’re on the road, bags in the back. It’s about a two-hour drive. We pull up the long driveway to the cabin, nestled back in the woods. It’s built of logs, so the outside looks rustic. The inside is anything but.

  “This place is incredible,” Sadie says, turning in a slow circle after she walks in.

  The ceiling is exposed wood beams, and the furniture is all sleek brown leather. There’s a bedroom and bathroom on the back side, but the showpiece of the cabin—if ‘cabin’ is even the word—is the kitchen.

  “My friend Joe is a chef,” I say. “A talented one, I might add. He lives in L.A., but he likes coming up here to get away from it all. So of course, his kitchen is incredible.”

  Everything is top of the line. Stainless steel. Enormous fridge with a pull-out freezer. Six-burner, state-of-the-art gas stove with a grill. Fully stocked pantry. Every pot, pan, dish and utensil a chef could ever need.

  We get settled, putting our bags in the bedroom. The kitchen has staples, but nothing perishable, so we decide to go into the nearby town. There’s a grocery store and an open-air market just across the street. We stop at the market first and take our time, wandering through the stalls.

  The scents fill my nose—cedar, lavender, and the sweet tang of freshly picked berries. I pause in front of a stall with baskets of vegetables. The sugar snap peas catch my eye. How could I use those? Sautéed. No, blanched in lightly salted water. The color red is in my mind—red like Sadie’s hair. It makes me think of red chili. My mind keeps going. Korean gochujang. Rice vinegar. Flank steak. I can taste the heat on my tongue. Feel the crunch of vegetables. It’s starting to come together.

  I move through the market with purpose now, Sadie following along behind. The colors and textures start speaking to me. I can feel the flavors in my mouth—not taste them, feel them. I know what I need and I go through b
oth the market and the neighboring store until I’m sure I have everything.

  “You don’t have to cook tonight,” Sadie says as I gather my ingredients on the huge island back at the cabin.

  “I know.” I’m distracted, so I force myself to meet her eyes. “Sorry, I just… I have an idea. It’s hard to explain.”

  I start preparing everything. Mix the marinade. Score the steak. It needs to rest a while, so I put it aside while I start chopping vegetables.

  Sadie watches, asking an occasional question. Although the kitchen isn’t familiar, I move around as if I’ve been using it for years. Ideas come to me, tastes and textures combining.

  Throughout it all, I keep one goal in mind. Making something Sadie will love. I’ve never cooked for her—not really. Not like this. Not with the frenzy of inspiration thrumming through me, guiding my hands. It’s been so long since I felt this way. So long since I felt anything when I’m cooking. This burst of energy is so familiar. The rush of creating.

  I thought I might have lost this.

  I relax as I work, and chat more with Sadie. I open a bottle of wine while I sear the steak. My mind feels so clear, the flavors coming together just as I thought they would.

  This is food for me. It’s so much more than nutrition. More than any individual ingredient or taste. It’s the way the pieces come together. The textures. The spices. The flavors and colors. It all creates an experience. I can visualize the end in my mind as I work. I can see what it’s going to look like on the plate. What it’s going to feel like in the mouth. Every bite.

  And I know what I want Sadie to feel when she eats it. I want her to know what I feel for her. If I can’t love her with my body the way I want to, I can love her with this. With the work of my hands. With something I make for her. It’s a small thing—it won’t do my feelings justice—but this means a lot to me.

  When everything is ready, I send Sadie out to the dining table so I can plate it without her watching.

  It’s a steak salad with roasted peanuts and red chili dressing. Tender slices of medium rare steak sit on a bed of butter lettuce, sugar snap peas, Persian cucumbers, radishes, and scallions. The dressing has just enough heat to stimulate the tongue without burning. The crisp vegetables compliment the juicy steak perfectly. The peanuts add crunch.