And this time?—
I’m diving in.
I’m taking the fucking plunge.
I’m going swimming!
30
ELIJAH
I stepout of the shower and reach for a towel as Gabriel slips through the heavy wooden doors and into my bedroom with uninvited confidence.
His gorgeous gray eyes skim seductively over my wet, naked body.
“Come here,” he whines, as I quickly wrap the heated towel around my waist.
I’m so tired, so riddled with nerves.
He walks over to me and wraps me up in his promising arms, and I rest my head against the security of his broad shoulder, burrowing my face into the warm crease of his neck.
I used to love when we would hold each other like this, drawing out the love and lust from one another, always ending in a gratifying fuck. We were amazing together in that way; our bodies so attuned to each other’s needs—his kinky, mine affectionate.
He runs his steady fingers down the center of my spine, soothing my worry. He whispers sedative words across my wet hair as I breathe in the familiar spicy scent of his skin.
God, do I need him right now.
A sudden vibration hits my thigh, loud and insistent.
Gabriel pulls back, eyes flickering down as he fishes his phone from the pocket of his perfectly tailored slacks. Without even checking the screen, he presses the side button and silences the call, sending whoever it is straight to voicemail.
“Mi amor,” he says as he goes in search of clothes for me. He used to love dressing me after I showered; planting flirtatious kisses everywhere across my bare skin. He’d fall to his knees, and I would hold on to his strong shoulders as I stepped one foot at a time into my pants. He’d then slowly raise them up over my hips, and use his marvelously indecent mouth to grip the zipper between his teeth and drag it up over my always-ready cock.
He comes back over to me, holding out a pair of black jeans, and a private moment passes between us as he also remembers... He allows this desire to hang heavily between us, those gray eyes glued to mine, as we figure out the appropriateness of how we’re supposed to navigate our newly papered relationship.
“Fuck,” he says as the phone vibrates relentlessly on the bed where he tossed it. His lust-filled gray eyes settle back on mine, our shared moment now lost as he blatantly announces, “It’s Alex.”
My overstimulated mind leaps out of its forbidden thoughts as I grapple with what he just said.
“It’s your cell,” he tells me, eyes falling downcast in guilt. “And he called while you were in the shower. I told him I’d pass along the message.”
“You answered my phone?” I snarl in disbelief.
“I did,” he answers. Simple, direct. And that’s Gabriel—no fuss, always getting straight to the point, wasting no words.
And now it’s my turn.
“Fuuuck!”
I lunge for my phone, towel slipping to the floor—completely forgotten. Gabriel doesn’t move. Just stands there, his eyes dancing with mischief, tracing every inch of me, branding me without a touch.
I grabmy discarded cell and fumble with the screen to answer Alex’s call.
“Alex, love?—”
“Oh god! Elijah!” A voice cries, shrill and panicked. And definitely not Alex’s.
My eyes flick to the screen again. It’s definitely Alex’s number.
