by Kasey Lane
He shook away the ridiculous thoughts of other women, and concentrated back on the stunning creature below him. Her eyes were soft, dreamy, a look he’d never seen on this hard-edged woman. He relished that he’d put that look on her face. Him. When he caressed her hip bones, rubbing his thumbs over her soft skin, she arched her back and her eyes fluttered closed on a moan. A growl rumbled from his chest and he was overwhelmed with a crashing wave of desire for this woman.
Tugging her leggings and panties down in one swoop, he threw them over his shoulder and peppered her hip bone and that sexy as fuck tattoo with kisses and little bites before throwing one leg back over the couch and pushing the other wide so she had to plant her foot on the floor. “Are you wet for me, little one? Do you want to feel my tongue on your clit, my fingers fucking you until you scream my name?” He laved his tongue in the same path his lips had just been and created a trail of small goose bumps.
“Gabby, open your eyes. Watch me fuck you with my mouth.” A tremor shook her body and she opened her eyes, locking them on him. He reached up and pulled her plump lip down, without pretense she sucked his thumb into her mouth. “Good girl,” he said and then dragged his wet thumb down between her breasts.
“Watch me, Gabby,” was the only warning he gave her before he spread her pussy lips with his fingers and sucked her pulsing clit in between his teeth. Her hips shot up and her legs wrapped around his head as she cried out.
She was a live wire arcing and sparking all over the place. Slowly he slid a finger into the warm glove of her body while continuing to lick hungrily at her. Her hand flew to his head as she tried to hold him in place…which was hilarious because nothing in the world could make him leave his post. He had one goal at that moment and that was to make Gabrielle Alvarez cry out his name as she came. He added another finger—in and out he pumped relentlessly—until her body tensed and she screamed a wordless cry into the quiet apartment. She was so tight, so hot as she seized around him and he wanted nothing more than to get another out of her.
But she had other ideas. Sitting up she flipped her long bangs over her damp face and pushed his shoulders back against the couch. He caught a flash of the blackbirds on her hip again and regretted he hadn’t had a chance to indulge his fantasy and trace the tattoo with his tongue.
Then she dropped to her knees and yanked at his boxers until he lifted and she pulled them off. Before he knew it she’d cupped his balls in one hand and was jacking him with the other. He wasn’t going to last long at this pace, especially after going down on her. He could still smell her sweet scent on his mouth, on his hands. She was everywhere.
When she looked up and smiled almost shyly before dipping down to take him into her mouth, his baser self couldn’t be controlled any longer. He was an animal and he wanted nothing more than to come down her throat. He yanked the band from Gabby’s hair and wound his hand in its place. He held her head firmly and began to slowly stroke in and out of her mouth. For a moment, he worried about the position, if it was too much, but then she moaned and he watched as her hand disappeared between her legs. The moan she emitted vibrated his cock and that combined with her tongue pushed him over the edge. “Fuuuuck!” he growled out and then yelled her name before emptying himself into her greedy mouth at the same time her body tightened and she rode out her own orgasm.
He loosened his grip on her hair and rubbed her scalp before dropping his hands in exhaustion.
“Fuck. That was…it was…” he said, trying to catch his breath and slow the pounding of his heart against his ribs.
“Yeah. It was.” She leaned back and rolled to her butt, leaning back on her hands on the floor in front of him. He wanted to get down on the floor next to her, roll her over and kiss her some more. But that was altogether new for him. He’d never had that urge before and he suspected it might cause more problems with his salty lover.
He went for honest and simple. “You’re amazing.”
“You’re not bad yourself. Not only are you pretty, but you kind of have a big dick.” Apparently, she was going with their normal banter in an effort to play off the intensity of what they’d just shared.
“Really? Because you swallowed me down like a champ.”
“I don’t have a gag reflex.”
“Apparently not, babe.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, babe,” she said twisting her lips to the side. “On second thought, take it however you want. But I can’t have sex with you.”
What the hell? After what they’d just done, she couldn’t have sex with him? What did that even mean? “Hate to break it to you, babe, but we pretty much just did. Call it what you want, but with the way you just screamed my name when you came all over my tongue. Or the way you just sucked my cock dry. Yeah, that’s called sex.”
He didn’t mean to be an asshole, not really. He knew she was inexperienced, not that that had any impact on her explosive blow job skills, and she deserved more respect, something softer. But he had a feeling that any gentleness or even kind words at this point and Gabby would lose it. He could take her disdain, even her rage; he didn’t think he could handle any more of her tears. One more fucking tear from his badass roommate and he might just crumble.
“I didn’t scream your name.” No, he supposed she hadn’t, but there was time.
He stood up and bent to lift her to standing. Holding her shoulders he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Maybe not this time, but next time for sure.” He started walking toward his bedroom for a change of clothes before he stopped and looked back over his shoulder where she stood with her mouth open and eyes wide. “You can have the shower first, but we have thirty minutes before I have to be at practice.”
“I’m not going with you. I have some work to catch up on.”
He turned and took two steps back to her. “The fuck you aren’t. Your home was destroyed last night. In this building. I’m not leaving you here alone.”
“I’m going to Ella’s for the night.” When he went rigid and scowled, she continued. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call you when I’m on my way back.”
“No. Gabby, really. What if he follows you there?”
“Well, what am I supposed to do then?”
“Come to practice with me.”
“No.”
“That’s it—no? No discussion, nothing?” he asked.
“You’re not my boyfriend, Bowen.” She stood there naked, still. Her boobs jutting out and so fucking perfect he had to keep himself from picking her up and dragging her to his bed.
“Of course I’m not. Look, how about you drive me to practice and pick me up? Go to Ella’s, hang out, work, whatever. It’ll make me feel better. Gabby, I mean it.”
“Fine,” she said pivoting around him and walking toward the bathroom. “But I get the shower first.” Her hips swung erotically and her hair had that sexy just out of bed mess going. It was hotter than fuck. Just like Gabby Alvarez.
Chapter Nine
Ella sipped her wine and set the last plate in front of Gabby before sitting down across from her at the fancy dining table so out of place in the sunny country kitchen. “I hope you like lasagna.” Ella’s long raven bob was pulled up in a messy twist and her business-casual attire had been replaced with a torn T-shirt covered in pasta sauce and a pair of bright yellow yoga pants.
“I like food so we’re good.” Gabby smiled at her friend and Quirk boss.
“We like food. We like food. We like food,” Ella’s almost five-year-old twins, Maya and Amelia, began chanting between bites of said food. Gabby wiped the corner of Maya’s mouth and the girl giggled, squishing masticated pasta and sauce through her smile.
“Ewwww. Gross,” Gabby said, but couldn’t hold her smile back. She was still getting to know Ella and Jami, but she was definitely starting to feel more comfortable here in Ella’s home with her two little girls. She’d never had this kind of normalcy before: dinner at a table, bath time, stories before bed. The smells from the burnt rolls and the
television blaring cartoons in the other room were markers of a life she had never participated in as anything other than an observer. A happy, messy life full of smiles and giggles and love.
Gabby took another bite and Amelia began to tell them about her new friend at their pre-school. That conversation led into a discussion about the merits of SpongeBob and whether or not Squidward really was his friend. Dinnertime passed quickly as the girls shared more about school, and Ella and Gabby touched on some superficial topics about Quirk, like the new arts and music program that Jami’s fiancé had just started. Jax had put together a fundraiser and brought in all his musician and artist friends to man the program. So far it had been a huge success.
When the topic of volunteers came up it naturally shifted to Bowen, who had logged more hours teaching guitar and art than any of the other teachers. He had a knack for teaching and leading. His bad boy persona lent an air of authenticity—or street cred—that the kids glommed on to. But his patience and kindness with the kids had been unexpected. Like so much about the man.
There was no way any woman could deny that Bowen Landry was hot. He had a body chiseled from muscle. He was really tall and broad, but had a tapered waist and thick, ropey thighs. His black hair hung just a little too long and a tad messy, giving him a just-hopped-out-of-bed look. And his gray-blue eyes went from whimsical to intense in half a second. But his looks, while worthy of a rock star or even an underwear model, hadn’t drawn her in. Good-looking guys had never interested her. Gabby had just assumed they knew how attractive they were and she didn’t want anything to do with that kind of ego.
She’d dismissed him. At first, she’d ignored him, believing him to be just another twelve-stepper stopping off to make his half-assed amends on his way back into the bottle. But then he’d surprised her with his work ethic and loyalty to the program. Because of that she’d given him a chance…well, insofar as she gave anyone a chance. They often hung out with the same group of people and volunteered at the same center so she didn’t ignore him any longer.
They’d coexisted, but now? Now they were doing a lot more than coexisting. And if she continued to stay with him and they continued to mess around then everything was going to change. And not in a good way.
Gabby continued to ponder this new dynamic between her and Bowen when Ella put the girls down for bed and was reading from some book about a stinky cheese guy. When Ella’s doorbell rang, Gabby dropped her phone on the table and shot up to her feet. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest and her hands went up into a basic fighting stance while she spread her feet and angled them.
“Hey, can you get that? It’s Jami.” Ella’s yell was followed by much shushing and giggling from her girls.
Gabby took a deep breath, letting air fill her lungs and then slowly exhaling it, willing her pulse to calm. She brought her fists down and walked toward the door, laughing nervously at her overreaction. “Sure. No problem,” she called back with a small shake in her voice and wondered why Jami was popping by on a school night at nine o’clock.
Unless…
“Welcome to your intervention.” Jami burst through the door in a pale pink linen shift, white cardigan, and perfect pink pearls. For someone engaged to and crazy in love with a tattoo artist and heavy metal drummer she did not look the part. She looked like a high-end attorney, which she sort of used to be, and not the co-director of a women’s non-profit.
“Blabbermouth. I thought attorneys were supposed to be self-controlled,” Ella said as she walked back into the living room and plopped down on her couch. “Help yourself to something to drink, Jami.” She patted the couch cushion. “Come sit with me, Gabby.”
Gabby crossed her arms over her chest. What the hell was this about? Like she of all people needed an intervention. “What is this? I thought you were getting ready for the Manix Curse tour?”
Jami set her glass of water on the side table and sat next to Ella, crossing her legs at the ankles and placing her hands in her lap. “I am. Plenty of time. But this…” she spread her hands out like Vanna White “…is your intervention.”
“I don’t need an intervention,” she managed through clenched teeth. This was exactly why she didn’t do “friends.”
“Okay, fine, it’s not really an intervention,” Jami started.
“Oh no, it is. Something is going on with you and we want to know one: why you haven’t told us. And, two, what it is.” Ella’s patience had obviously run out. She stared at Gabby with bright eyes. Eyes like a soul-sucking cat, Gabby thought not for the first time. Did they know about her and Bowen screwing around? No, that wasn’t possible. Somehow, they knew about the car or the apartment. Her hands felt restless, twitchy like they had a plan of their own and that plan did not include sitting in Ella’s colorful living room surrounded by fancy furniture that did not match the shabby neighborhood. Or explaining what was going on in her life with her two new friends. Her two nosy friends.
“Oh suck it up, ice queen. You have friends—deal with it,” Jami teased. “Now ’fess up. What is going on?”
Well, they needed to narrow it down before she said anything. She wasn’t just giving away info without knowing the parameters. She pasted on a smile and hoped it did the trick. “With what?”
“Oh, puhlease, timid does not suit you,” Ella intoned in an imperialistic tone. “With you and Bowen?”
Hm. So the gig was up. Great. She could do this. Jami smiled softly. “You know, what you said to me about Jax made all the difference, Gabby. I was terrified to get my heart broken again and I would have never let my guard down if you hadn’t held my hand and told me to take a chance.”
Gabby swallowed hard against the sandbar suddenly lodged in her throat and closed her eyes for a moment. It had been a lot easier being the giver of the advice. Being a recipient of Jami’s compassion was uncomfortable. In a way, more so than Bowen’s because at least she could give him something back, something that didn’t cost her as much. She either let them in just a little or she didn’t. They would understand if she couldn’t find the strength to open the gate, but it would change her relationship with these two amazing women, take it in another direction altogether.
She shoved on that rusted shut gate, gave it a good push before it squeaked open. Just a little. “I, uh…” She took a sip of the bottled water clutched in her hands. “Okay, this is hard for me.”
Both Jami and Ella chuckled. “No shit, sweetie,” Ella said.
Best to just get it out. “My mom is an alcoholic. I was raised in foster care. My foster father attacked me with a knife and tried to rape me so I smashed him over the head with statue. Then I went into a group home and then to live with Bob Little and his family. But my mom ruined all that. And I’ve been on my own ever since. The police think my foster father might be after me because someone vandalized my car and my apartment and now I’m staying with Bowen.”
Ella sat there staring with her wineglass frozen at her lips. Jami was wide-eyed and with her hands covering her mouth for a moment before she leapt at Gabby, throwing her arms around her. “Holy fuck, Gab. My parents are monsters, but your past…your past is unbelievable.” Gabby tried to laugh—after all Jami rarely swore despite her f-bomb-dropping fiancé—but choked on a sob. Jesus, where was this all coming from? First, she’d word vomited all over her friends and now she was what, crying in Jami’s arms?
“I can’t do this,” she said. “I just don’t know how to do any of this.” She gave in and put her arms around Jami and let the tears fall. She was a failure. At everything. She couldn’t run from her past. She couldn’t keep her mouth off her new roommate who, incidentally might end up in jail if her jailbird mother showed up. Of course that just made her tears fall even faster.
Jami held her for several minutes, maybe half an hour. At some point during that time, Ella had come over and joined them, making it a group hug, and silently rubbed her back. These were good women, Gabby thought. Good friends. She’d spent her entire childhood trying t
o foster these kinds of relationships with her mother, her various foster families, and even teachers, but each one had fallen apart eventually. Her adolescence and adulthood had been about avoiding this kind of connection to another human being. And, really, avoiding the pain that broken promises and fractured love always beget.
For a moment, she let that warm ball roll around in her chest. Maybe the discomfort she’d been feeling was actually something good and not something to run from. What if it was closer to hope and she just hadn’t recognized it earlier?
After the ugly cry was over and they’d settled back into their seats, Gabby pushed that rusty gate open a little more and told them the short version of what had happened to her car and apartment. She filled them in on the basics of how she’d ended up staying with Bowen. She left out the part about the kissing and the blow job and the orgasms and Alma’s numerous felony convictions.
Jami and Ella were kind and compassionate, but as Gabby picked Bowen up from practice and walked back into his apartment she couldn’t help that lingering doubt scratching at the back of her mind. Was she getting in too deep with all of them and, in the process, putting them in jeopardy?
Probably, but when they were standing there holding her while she sobbed she couldn’t see straight, think straight. She would fix this. Maybe track down the McNeils and figure out what the hell was going on.