Alpha Douchebag: The Virgin: Gabriel & Willow duet #2 (Alpha Douchebags of Grifton Falls University)

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Alpha Douchebag: The Virgin: Gabriel & Willow duet #2 (Alpha Douchebags of Grifton Falls University) Page 24

by S. N. Garza


  Twenty-two

  Willow

  I get back to the dorm and thankfully, Sarah isn’t here. It gives me time to look through the album in-depth.

  I look for Marcus in them and he plays a big role. I look at all the photos before my parents died and look at the back and see mom’s handwriting. Describing the photo. She always mentions him.

  And then my volleyball games. All the pictures taken, he’s up in the stands, this proud fatherly look in his expression.

  I wonder if he ever looked at Gabriel like that. And I hate it if he didn’t. I’d hate him, for Gabriel, for that. Gabriel deserves so much better than what he’s been dealt.

  He has me now. And he always will have me. I’ve never loved so deeply, so fully before. And I will never give him up. I know how that sounds coming from an eighteen-year-old, but I want to believe it. I do. I look at Gabriel and he’s not an asshole. I see his insecurities, even though there’s only a few. The more we talk, the more he has to say. He’s a quiet guy everywhere except for when we’re alone. When we talk about the future, it’s we and us, not me and I. I want a future with him.

  Right now, however, there’s an issue more pressing at hand.

  After thoroughly looking at each photo, I close it and realize tears are falling down my cheeks. I’m happy, yet I’m angered because I know he never gave Gabriel the kind of support he’s given me.

  I take my phone and see I have a text from Gabriel.

  G: What are you doing?

  Me: About to take a shower. Practice was brutal. Who knew your dad could be a total dictator?

  I can’t help trying to deflect my inner struggle. I don’t want to worry Gabriel, because I know if I told him about it, he’d become this overprotective papa-bear. While I love how he protects me, I have to be able to do this on my own. I don’t like not telling him, but he’d try and stop me, and we’d argue, and I don’t want to argue with him.

  G: He’s a dick, alright.

  Me: Lol. You’re silly.

  G: I’ll show you silly when I get back. I hate having to leave before seeing you, but THE DICK said it was urgent.

  Me: That’s okay. I’ll miss you. Will you call me every day?

  G: More than once. So, if you’re about to shower? Does that mean you’re naked?

  Me: I’m not naked.

  G: You’re showering clothed? God, you’re so fucking weird.

  He is so ridiculous sometimes, but I love how he can be silly and playful. And when he says things like that, I know there’s a smile on his face. I get up, walk to the bathroom and rip off my shirt. I stick my phone out and take a selfie. The only time I’ll ever take one so underdressed. And I’m wearing a sports bra, so my boobs are smashed and there’s clearly a cleavage line, but he’s seen me, so I don’t concern myself. I’m covered.

  G: I fucking love your tits.

  Me; You’re disgusting.

  G: Lol. You calling yourself disgusting? Because it’s your tits. And I like being disgusting to you. As many times as possible. I dare you, fairy-girl.

  Me: Dare me to do what?

  G: Take one without it.

  Me: O_O —> how about no?

  G: Chicken.

  He sends a chicken emoji and it brings a smile to my face. So yeah, if he thinks I’m going to do that, he’s crazy. So, I ask him to be daring.

  Me: Take a picture of your penis. I dare you to do that.

  He’s quiet for a while and that goes to show you, a guy will ask a chick for a nude but won’t send one back. Figures.

  Setting my phone down, I begin pushing down my gym shorts and panties.

  I pull out my hairband and hear my phone buzz with a text.

  Gabriel. Will I ever not sigh when I see his name on my screen?

  I hope not.

  I open my phone and as soon as I bring up the messaging app—

  Oh. My. God. He actually sent me a dick pic. And his hand is wrapped around the lower half. He’s so… massive. The crown is ruddy-colored and my eyes bulge at the white pearly drop there. He is so… I don’t even know how to describe him.

  Then another picture pops up.

  No. A video. No way. I shouldn’t, but I do anyway. I’m curious. We’re a couple and it’s just me here, so I click on the play button.

  First, it’s his face. His eyes are heavy-lidded and dilated. “See what you do to me, Willow? You get me so hard. Look.” Then he shuffles the camera and he’s jerking his hand along his thick, long shaft. “Come on, Willow. Show me what I’m missing. Make me blow my load on the side of the road. Fuck, that sounded stupid. But that’s where I am. Your cock needs it, baby. Just a little tease, please fairy-girl. Send me some magic.” Then the video cuts off.

  Send him some magic?

  Oh, my God. Watching him do that turns me on. Dang it. I close the bathroom door, lock it and God, I’m probably going to regret this, but I set the camera on the counter in selfie mode video, take a deep breath, and press the button. I don’t show my face, but I take hold of my boobs and try to mimic what he does to them. Softly massaging, kneading and my nipples harden. I love how he would tug and bite at them and I pull on the tips, and a small cry leaves my lips.

  “Gabriel. Mmmm…,” I play with my boobs until I can’t take it anymore and I stop, knowing I’m not going to be able to do more. I need him here. I walk up to the counter and see my breasts sway and bounce and hope he doesn’t get turned off by how heavy they are. Picking up the phone, I look into the camera and say, “Need you here to fuck me, Gus. I miss you. I love you.”

  I hit send and walk to the tub to turn on the shower.

  Then my phone rings with FaceTime. I feel heat pool between my legs and then heat rises up my cheeks to see Gabriel’s face.

  I keep the camera trained on my face as I say, “I’m about to get in the shower. Shouldn’t you be driving?”

  His eyes are blazing fire and I feel that look to the very depths of my soul.

  “If I’m going to cum, I want to be looking at you doing that for real. But with your face this time. Love seeing you touch and play with your tits, baby, but it’s always your face I imagine when I’m coming. That softly opened mouth, eyes low and sated. Fuck, you’re so hot. Let me see, Willow. Let me see what I’m dying to have again.”

  I bite my lip and look towards the door, hoping she hasn’t come back yet.

  “I know you locked that door, Willow. Show me those gorgeous tits and my sweet, pretty little kitty all wet for me.”

  I look back at him and sigh. “Gabriel.”

  “Fucking do it, Willow. I need to cum. Let me cum for you, baby.”

  With a shaky breath, I set up my phone against the counter, turn and walk a few steps.

  “Fuuuuck. That ass, baby. Fucking love that ass.”

  I twist my face around and the look on his face is primitive. Dark, brooding and filled with lust. For me. I smile to myself and he says, “Stop there!”

  I do and then he groans.

  “That’s it, baby. Now turn and touch those gorgeous breasts of yours.”

  I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I begin touching my breasts. Listening to him tell me how to touch myself. Then I hear him whispering, groaning, grunting, and I feel my body building, reaching and then he’s swearing, muttering, “That’s it. All for you, Willow. Fuck yeah. Goddammit. You want to finger yourself, baby? Make yourself come?”

  I slowly walk up to the camera, hop on the counter and take the phone in my hands. “You know I really don’t know how.”

  “You ever think about a toy?”

  “A toy?”

  “Yes. You know, like a vibrator or clit-stimulator?”

  “You know the answer to that. I’ve never given it a lot of thought because before you, I never—

  “I know, baby. You have no idea how good hearing you say you’ve never before makes me feel. And I know it makes me sound like a Neanderthal, but it’s true. But I also hate that I just came all over myself and you’re there,
unsatisfied.”

  “Gabriel?”

  “What, baby?”

  I love how he talks to me all low and gravelly. His voice is so sexy.

  “I’m already satisfied. Just knowing I can do that to you; I’m happy.”

  “Yeah, well, you need something to play with if I’m not there for some reason.”

  “You’re so sweet and considerate.”

  “Jesus Christ. Fucking take my dick and balls, why don’t you?”

  “I thought they were already mine?”

  We both laugh and he rolls his eyes. “Yeah. They are. Fuck, I’m pathetic.”

  “No. You’re happy. There’s a difference. You’re happy, right?”

  His gaze burns into mine when he nods. “Never been this happy. Alright. I need to get back on the road, baby.”

  “Okay. Be careful, Gus.”

  He nods, smiles and his eyes soften. “I will call you when I get there.”

  “Okay. I miss you.”

  “Miss you more, Willow. You have no idea. I love you, baby.”

  “I love you.”

  “Bye, fairy-girl.”

  “Bye, Gus.”

  But we don’t hang up. He just sets his phone in his cup holder. And turns on his truck.

  “Gus?”

  “What, baby?”

  “Aren’t you going to hang up?”

  “Nope.”

  “Gabriel! Don’t be so high school.”

  “Well, I’d ask you not to be so sexy, but I don’t want that, even though it’s not possible.”

  “You do know that if you keep talking this way, you’ll lose your douchebag cred?”

  He laughs and I see the smile on his face. His smile is so mesmerizing. “Was I ever really a douchebag, though?”

  I burst out laughing because he knows he is. “Yes, you are a total douchebag, but you’re my douchebag and I love you. Now, hang up the phone.”

  “Willow.”

  “Gabriel.”

  “Willow, I love you.” I see and hear the sincerity in his voice and everything inside me melts. Only he could do that. Pete was never like this.

  “I love you too, Gabriel. Bye.”

  “Bye, baby.”

  I take the strength needed to press that red end button and hang up. I’m hopping off the counter when my phone buzzes. Maybe it’s Ragan or Alann, but nope.

  It’s Gabriel.

  G: I love how you look at me, Willow. See?

  He sends a photo of my naked back and the sensual look I’m giving him. Wow.

  Me: That’s… actually kind of hot. Delete that, douchebag.

  G: No. Spank-bank material while I’m far away from you. Next time, you’re coming with me.

  Me: Whoa! What?

  G: Say yes, Willow

  And because I don’t want to deny him anything and I’d love to travel, the answer is easy.

  Me: Yes. I’d love to, Gus.

  G: Good. Now that I’ve come, I can drive without this massive erection in my jeans.

  Me: It’s massive alright.

  G: God, I love you.

  Me: I love you. Text me when you get there.

  G: I will.

  Me: TTYL Gabriel.

  G: Bye fairy-girl.

  I feel giddy and even though I didn’t have an orgasm, I’m satisfied to see him sated and happy. I take my shower, smiling like a loon the whole time. How is this possible? To be so in love like this?

  I wrap myself in a towel, step from the shower and walk into the bedroom. Just before I get to my dresser, I notice an envelope on the floor right past the bedroom door.

  I don’t see Sarah—thank God she wasn’t here to hear me and Gabriel messing around, and I walk to pick up the mysterious note.

  My name is scrawled in the middle of the envelope in pretty script handwriting.

  Opening the envelope, I pull out the note.

  It reads—

  If you want to know what’s going on, meet me outside your dorm entrance and just to the right sidewalk. Wear your mother's ring. I’ll be in the black Jeep.

  MS

  My heart begins to beat wildly in my chest when I see the MS. MS is for Marcus Saint and I can’t help but feel a little scared. I set the note down on my dresser, pull out underclothes, leggings, and Gabriel’s Nickelback shirt I never gave back. Maybe I should have told him what was going on. Does he know? If he does and hasn’t told me, he’s doing it because he’s trying to protect me. But from what?

  Wear my mother’s ring? I get dressed, throw my hair up in a bun and pick up my mom’s ring. The old style of the S always made me think of old-fashioned heirlooms and I wonder who gave it to her. I thought it was my dad. But how would Marcus know about it? Did he give it to her? All these questions burn in my mind. Only one way to put out that fire.

  Go to Marcus.

  I slip the ring on my finger and shove my feet into my knock off Ugg boots, grab my purse and lock the door behind me. I feel as if I’m walking towards my doom. I get to the lobby and pull out my phone. Before I get to the door, I bring up Gabriel’s text.

  I hesitate just for a second before I quickly send him an ‘I love you’. Then I switch the phone to vibrate, shove it into my pocket and I feel it buzz just as I walk out Saint Hall. I walk down the pathway to the right like I’m told and see Marcus’s Jeep. I don’t know why I’m nervous. I mean, I’ve been around Marcus for a month as he coached us. He still hasn’t been able to find Coach Hanley and at this point, we’re doing so well, no one really cares about her. It’s sad, but Marcus is a great coach. And the girls are getting better at not being such ho-bags. Not that Marcus allows them to be. He took care of the attitude prone seniors and either told them to shut up, get their head out of their asses and play, or ‘get the fuck out’. His words, not mine. He really doesn’t mince words.

  I stand in front of the passenger side door, not sure I should get in. Half scared, half excited to learn something from my past. The window rolls down and my eyes look up. Marcus Saint has on his normal, arrogant smirk as if he knows what I’m thinking. His salt and pepper hair brushed back, the diamonds in his ears twinkle against the light of the interior.

  “What’s doin’, babygirl? Scared?”

  “Like crazy.”

  His smirk dies and he gets a serious look in his eye. “Don’t be. I’d never let anything happen to you.” I can see the sincerity in his gaze. Gabriel admitted the other day he believes his father wouldn’t ever hurt me. When Gabriel mentioned it, I could see what I'm beginning to understand now. He does know something, but I know Gabriel. It’s only been a short time, but I understand most of his looks. Especially the protective ones.

  Even still, I must ask although I don’t know if he’d keep it. “Promise?”

  “I haven’t let anyone hurt you a day in your life, babygirl. I might not have been there in the physical sense, but I was there. Making sure. Get in the car, Willow. It’s time.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat. And I look left and right, seeing no one around. Makes this even more creepy, but I know I can’t delay any longer. Then Marcus opens his mouth.

  “Get in the goddamn car, Willow Claire.”

  “Don’t curse at me, Marcus Saint. Or I’ll make a scene.”

  And he does the strangest thing, he throws his head back and laughs. “I just bet you would. You’re like her, yet you’re so different. Your mother never made a scene. Must come from his side of the family.”

  The way he says his with just a hint of disgust causes me to pause, but curiosity wins out.

  With a shaky breath, I get in the car and shaking his head, he puts the car in drive. Wherever we’re going, we’re silent as he drives through the main part of town and then down a darker road until we come upon a high grass fencing.

  “I’ve never been up this way before.”

  “This is where the better half of Grifton Falls live.”

  “Oh, the rich and shameless.”

  He snickers, but there’s a glitt
er in his gaze that makes me feel as if he’s keeping himself from laughing. “I see why he’s so in love with you, babygirl.”

  “For me?”

  “Yes. You’re unlike anyone here. So… untainted by your circumstances.”

  “Marcus, Gabriel isn’t tainted, you know? He’s a good man. He deserves me. And I think you believe he doesn’t. Am I right?”

  He doesn’t say anything, but I can see it. The bitterness in his gaze. For what? I don’t know. Is he jealous? I mean, he’s my godfather, surely, he doesn’t… you know… like me in that way. I’ve never felt that towards him either.

  “Uh… you’re not uuuuuh… jealous of him, are you?”

  He doesn’t say anything, but I see his hands tighten on the steering wheel.

  “Marcus? Because I’ve never thought of you as—

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Willow. For fuck’s sake, you’re younger than my son. Just barely out of high school. That’s disgusting.”

  A part of me is instantly relieved. Because yeah, that would be so wrong. “Good. At least there’s that.”

  “I’m not saying you’re disgusting, Willow. You’re a beautiful young woman, but I could never—pardon my language—fuck someone I could see as my daughter.”

  “You are married, Marcus. Why don’t you—

  He turns, giving me a scathing look, “I would advise you not to finish that thought.”

  “Well, you could. Don’t you want to be happy?”

  “I’m content, Willow. My life has enough meaning.”

  “Your business isn’t good enough. Human connection, love, honor—

  “Such maudlin sentiment from someone so practical.”

  “Actually, I’m a romantic in a lot of ways.” He snickers, disliking that notion. “Gabriel is too, in small ways. Do you think him stupid for being in love with me? For being faithful and loyal?”

  “No. He’s not romantic either, Willow. He’s weak. Powerless to you as I was to your mother.”

 

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