by Ashley Hall
“Of course it is! I mean, if you wanted to?”
Gabe laughs. “Baby, I always want to fuck you.”
Isabella's blush grows darker. She's still not used to things like this. The way Gabe talks when they get busy—it sends electric jolts down her spine; it makes things feel dark, feel vibrant.
Isabella's fingers run over the back of Gabe's neck and tangle in his perpetually messy hair. “Really?”
Gabe looks up at her, grinning. “Really, Izzy. All I have to do is look at those tits of yours, and I'm ready to go. Getting a chance to do something like this… Hell, I'd turn you over and fuck you in the park, if you'd let me.”
“The park?” Isabella squeaks. “There would be so many people around!”
“And everyone would get to see me bend you over the bench and pound that sweet pussy of yours. They'd get to see every last bit of you, and they would have to deal with the fact that they couldn't touch you.” Gabe gives her ass another squeeze, rougher this time. His fingers tug at the leg of Isabella's panties, like he's debating on pulling them down right then and there.
Isabella smiles, but the tension is still wound tight in her muscles. The nerves are still biting at her fingers and digging into her heart. This is what she wants, utterly and completely. But she still can't shake the feeling that she's being watched. There's a part of Isabella that still considers her parents as the ultimate rulers, that still feels as though it's wrong to do something so outright disapproving of her parents here under their roof.
Thankfully, Gabe doesn't have any such reservations. He laughs and pulls the panties down—not all the way, just enough so he can palm her bare ass. “Sweet cheeks, the things that I would do to you if only you'd let me.”
“I think I'd be willing to try almost anything,” says Isabella softly. “At least, anything that was with you.”
“You're just saying that. If you knew half the things that I thought about...” Gabe trails off, but he punctuates the ending of his comment with a sharp smack to Isabella's ass.
The Princess yelps. She takes a halting step forward but finds that there's nowhere to go. Gabe is too close to her; he's too close for Isabella to do much of anything.
The Princess is a sheltered soul. What she knows about sex has been learnt from Gabe himself and from the videos posted on the internet. Truthfully, Isabella finds that some of it is a little out there; it's a little bit daunting. But some of it, Isabella has watched with wide eyes and parted lips, wondering if that could one day be her, if it should one day be her.
And so, to hear that Gabe has thought of such debauched things makes Isabella's heart flutter in the best sort of way, yet that's another story entirely, and something that Isabella isn't quite certain she wants to bring up just now. Instead, she tugs at Gabe's hair, trying to pull him closer to her. “Don't leave me hanging.”
“Pushy, aren't you?” Gabe tugs and kneads at Isabella's ass cheeks and the backs of her thighs. He slips a finger between her crack, pressing lightly against her tight pucker. It's just for a moment, though, and then his hand goes farther, curving around to rub lightly at her clit.
Isabella moans, this low, breathy thing. She rakes her nails over the back of Gabe's neck when he pinches at her swollen hood, tugging lightly at the sensitive skin. It's not painful, but it could be, and that's what makes this so thrilling.
Everything Gabe does makes her heart pound harder and her blood race faster. Her lips part, breath coming in heavy pants. Gabe circles her clit a few times, then slips the tip of his finger into her pussy; it's almost shamefully wet, and all she can think about is getting back home, getting somewhere in a space that’s totally their own.
“I can't wait to get out of here,” says Gabe, voice rough with arousal. “I love you, Isabella. You're my everything. It's good to know I'm your everything, too.”
A second finger brushes against her wet cunt. Isabella spreads her legs a little farther, wondering if there's any chance of this actually happening. Wonders, hopes—such a strange thing, to hope without fear and to hope without worry of the ensuing fall.
“Back up,” orders Gabe, slipping his hands away. “Up against the dresser.”
“Is it okay to do this right now?”
“Because of your parents, or because you're pregnant?”
“Either?” Isabella listens all the same, backing up so she's almost leaning against the dresser. The wood is cold against her bared ass. Gabe shuffles forward on his knees, and then he shoves his face between Isabella's thighs and gets to work.
It's not something that the two have ever done before. To be honest, it's not something that Gabe's done with a lot of women. He sleeps around because it's fun and because he wants to. But those women, they're just bodies, just faces; they're tits and cunts and open holes, a way to get his kicks, to get a bit of stress relief.
Isabella's different.
She's the only one that has ever been this different.
She's the only one that Gabe doesn't just want but needs—craves like another hit, like the next drag, or like a drug that will never fade from his system. And so he does the only thing that comes to mind, and he spells the words I love you out with his tongue.
Chapter Forty-Four
Isabella and Gabe stick to their words. Come morning, the duo leave. They walk through the manor in silence. They walk down the front cobbled path, holding each other's hands. They get into the taxi without a single look back at the manor house that had once been Isabella's home away from home.
Gabe puts a hand on her knee. “Are you alright?”
Isabella nods, but the tears are obvious in her eyes. She doesn't say a single word until late in the day as they get ready to board their American-bound flight. Only then, in the crowded station, does she say, “I'm going to miss them.”
“I know,” says Gabe, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Just try and remember that they're the ones who have done this, not you.”
“I know that. God, I know that. They're horrible people! I don't regret anything that I said to them! But…Gabe, they're still my parents. Am I doing the wrong thing?”
“Living your life doesn't make you a bad person, Isabella. Fuck! You're one of the best damn people I've ever met. You hear that? If it weren't for you, I…I don't know. I'd still be sitting back at that bar, trying to drink away something that I couldn't control.”
Isabella tilts her head back. “No, that's wrong. You'd have found someone else.”
“There is no one else,” insists Gabe. “And if you hadn't shown up, that's where I would be. Or I'd be somewhere else, somewhere that's even worse.”
“I don't believe you,” says Isabella, but she catches the man in a passionate kiss all the same.
# # #
The plane ride goes smooth, and before long, the duo find themselves back in Gabe's apartment. It's small and dim, especially when compared to the glorious manner that they only just recently left. Exhausted, both physically and emotionally, Isabella drops down onto the couch.
Gabe chuckles and makes his way into the small kitchen. “So, you're going to keep staying here?”
“Unless you want me to leave,” says Isabella lightly.
“Not even in your wildest dreams,” answers Gabe. He opens up one cabinet after the next, searching for something that he deems edible. There's not much—just a few boxes of stuffing and au gratin potatoes that require way too much work and a gallon of milk that isn't completely out of date.
His fridge isn't much better. There's a stick of butter that's probably still good, but everything else has an expiration date on it that's almost a month too late. The few leftovers in there are from takeout and shouldn't be eaten or even touched.
Gabe sighs and pulls away. He closes the fridge and says, “How about takeout?”
“That sounds lovely.” Isabella gives him a sheepish smile. “Are you sure that you don't mind me staying here?”
“Izzy, I already told you. I want to get married to you
!”
“I know. I just… We can't afford that right now, can we? And I didn't know... Try and understand, Gabe, that all I know about are royal regulations and expectations. The way most people do things, those seems strange to me.”
Gabe sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “You realize we don't need a shit-ton of money to get hitched, right?”
Isabella gives him an owlish blink. “Don't we?”
“Not out here,” says Gabe. “Tell you what, you give me a few days, and I'll get something squared away for us. My friend, she's probably going to love going dress shopping with you.”
Isabella looks down at her folded hands. “I don't have any money.”
“Not right now,” says Gabe. “But you will soon. Those pictures of yours—this is your chance to turn them into something. I've got enough of an egg fund—”
“Egg fund?”
“Savings account,” explains Gabe, dropping down on the couch next to Isabella. “We can last for a while. And the Desperados, they never mind pitching in for things like this.”
Quietly, Isabella asks, “Do you think they'll like me?”
It's Gabe's turn to look surprised. “Do you want to meet them?”
“Would that be okay?”
“They're kind of a rough crowd.”
“I know, but they're your rough crowd. I want to be part of your life! I want to meet them, and maybe, maybe I could do something with you all?”
Gabe laughs, but it's more nervous than anything. “Let's start out slow, okay? I'm one thing and Chico's okay, but some of those guys—they aren't bad people, but they aren't what you're used to, either.”
“I want to meet them,” insists Isabella. She twists around on the couch, draping herself over Gabe's side. “I want to know them. I want to know this life! Gabe, my world is so small.”
“We'll fix that,” promises Gabe. “And we're going to start by giving you a good dose of cheap Thai food.”
# # #
The takeout proves to be a huge success. Before long, Isabella has crept into bed, where she falls asleep wearing one of the maternity gowns that they bought the week before. As soon as Gabe is certain she's not going to come back out, he turns down the television just a little bit and pulls out his phone.
It's late, ridiculously so. He calls Bethy anyways because she's always up. Last call isn't until three, and she's at the bar another hour at least and still up for another two hour once she gets home. The phone rings three times before Bethy picks up, sounding far too interested for her own good. “Are you guys back already?”
Gabe props one foot up on the coffee table, then the other. “Yep. It went about as well as you might expect.”
Bethy gives a low whistle. “How is she taking it?”
“Good as you can expect,” answers Gabe.
Bethy huffs. “Okay, douchebag. You're the one that called me! Don't be giving me skimping details.”
Gabe asks, “If I tell you what happened, will you do me a favor?”
“It depends on how big the favor is.”
“Pretty damn huge.”
“Am I going to have fun, or are you trying to rope me into something shitty?”
Gabe grins against the receiver. “Now, why would I ever do that?”
Chapter Forty-Five
Bright and early the next day, Bethy shows up at Gabe's apartment building. As the owner of the Hornet's Nest, she's able to close down the bar whenever she wants, for whatever reason she wants. This, to her, seems like a damn good reason for an impromptu day off.
“I'm glad you came by,” says Gabe cheerfully. He's still wearing his boxers when he lets her in. “Izzy's in taking a shower, but she should be out soon.”
Bethy looks over the apartment with a critical eye. She puts both hands on her hips, clucks her tongue, and says, “This place is just sad. Are you seriously planning on raising a kid in here?”
“I don't know. I'm still sort of figuring things out,” admits Gabe. “This happened really quickly.”
“The answer to that question should have just been a firm no. Gabe, this place is a dump!” Bethy waves her hand at the peeling wallpaper, the rusted kitchen sink. “I wouldn't spend the night here with a chick, let alone my wife and kid! I already told you once, you need to buck up and get a grip on yourself.”
“I'm trying! Look how much I've stepped up; look at what I've been able to do so far! We were in Davaria yesterday, Bethy, and I spent the week before that trying to comfort Izzy! Do you know how upset she was?”
“I can imagine. After getting kidnapped by your friend - “
“We aren't doing this,” snaps Gabe. “I told you last night, we aren't doing this! Either take her out without throwing a fit over shit, or just go.”
Bethy sighs. “No, no, you're right. That wasn't your fault, and it's not fair of me to keep bringing it up. I'm just sort of amazed that Slade would sink that low. I mean, I know he's a freak but... I didn't think that he was this big of a freak. She's doing better?”
“She needs to get out of here for a bit,” says Gabe. “And she needs to be shown that we can have a fucking great wedding even without her parents’ money.”
The water in the bathroom cuts off. Gabe shouts, “Got company, Izzy. Pull something on before you come out here!”
Isabella says something in response, but her voice is too low for the words to really be made out.
Bethy smiles in the general direction of the bathroom. “I'm kind of excited, I'll admit. You've put her on a high pedestal, Gabe. Is she going to live up to even half of it?”
“She's better,” says Gabe jokingly.
Isabella comes out not too much later wearing a pale blue blouse and a white skirt that stops just shy of her ankles. Her hair is still wet, but it's been pulled up in a loose ponytail. She smiles at the sight of Bethy, always a gracious person to be around. “Oh, hello. I think that we've met before.”
She crosses the room in just a few steps and takes Bethy's hand, giving it a dainty little shake. Bethy laughs. “Yeah. I own the bar that you two hooked up at. I think that's going to be a pretty good story to talk about at your wedding, huh? I mean, I'm basically the reason that you two got together.”
“If that's how you want to look at it, I suppose that I should tell you thank you.” Isabella gives a little laugh to make it clear that she's joking. “I'm very happy with him.”
“I can tell.” Abruptly, Bethy hooks an arm around Isabella's middle. “Now come on, girl. We've got a few things to go over.”
“What?”
“You and me. We're going out for a bit. Call it a girls’ day or something.”
Isabella looks startled, but she doesn't protest too much. In a matter of moments, she's been swept outside and away from the crumbling apartment. Bethy chatters a mile a minute, pointing out different stores, shops, and confection stands as they go by.
This trip through the city is like none that Isabella has ever taken before. It's strange because they just walk down the sidewalk. It's strange because the conversation comes easy and fast, even though Isabella finds that she doesn't understand most of what they talk about.
Eventually, the two young women settle down at a small yogurt shop. Isabella is enthralled by the sight of it, completely trapped up in the outdoor sitting, the fairy lights strung up on the walls of the shop, and the cheerful demeanor of the waitresses.
It's nothing like the five star restaurants that Isabella usually frequents. It's nothing like any place that she's ever gone with her parents.
“Thank you for bringing me out here,” says Isabella, bracing herself on the table.
Bethy smiles. “Honey, this is just the start of it. Soon as we get something to eat, the two of us are going to hit the thrift stores and get you a good dress to wear at your wedding.”
Isabella gasps. “You're joking!”
“No! I mean it. There are tons of places around here where we can go to get a good, cheap, beautiful dress for your wedding
. If there's something I know, it's how to make life great on a budget.”
“I can't! I don't have any money. My parents have already put a hold on my cards, and they've taken the money from my bank account.”
“That doesn't matter. I've got a credit card with no limit. We'll use that right now, and you can just pay me back later.”
Isabella stares at her, surprised. “You would do that for me? You don't even know me!”
“I might not know you,” says Bethy. “But I know Gabe, and I know that you make him happy. Now let's quit talking about all this serious stuff and go back to picking out our yogurt. The peanut butter one is probably the best thing ever.”