Camryn’s head tips to the side and she shrugs. “I don’t know much about good sex either. I’ve only done it once, and it was awful. But everyone seems obsessed with it, so there must be a reason. Go find that reason.”
A throat clears behind us.
Lara hovers a few feet back, holding three brown paper grocery bags. “Hi, girls.” Her smile wavers. She has definitely overheard us.
“Some advice, Lara?” Cam calls. “As far as I know, you’re the only one of us having good sex.”
Lara’s cheeks flame.
“These walls are paper thin,” Cam adds.
A boiled lobster blush hits Lara’s cheeks.
She tries to recover, taking a step closer and clearing her throat. “Well, I, uh—” She looks at me. “I think you should do whatever you want to do, and don’t do whatever you don’t want to do. Sex between people who love each other can be really special.” She gulps, looking from me to Cam and back again.
Obviously, she’s talking about our dad. While it makes me want to vomit, it’s also kind of sweet.
“Gabriel hasn’t even tried,” I admit.
“Men are funny that way,” Lara says. The red in her cheeks has faded to pink. “When sex doesn’t mean anything, nothing stops them. When it means something, it terrifies them.”
“See?” Cam says. “That makes perfect sense. Now, go see Gabriel and drop it like it’s hot right onto his firefighter lap. He’ll know what to do with you.” Cam lightly shoves me out of the house. “Lara and I have work to do.”
Lara winks and sidesteps me, going into the house.
Cam closes the door in my face.
I’m mildly annoyed, but I’m not sure with who anymore. Cam for being insistent, Gabriel for not being insistent enough, or me for not being able to be direct.
Gabriel answers when I call, and says he’s changing the oil in his truck.
I don’t tell him I’m on my way over. We make small talk, and I say I have to go.
This turns out to be a good move on my part, if the look on his face right now is any indication.
He’s grinning, happy to be surprised, as he steps away from his truck’s hood. He runs a red rag over his hands, watching me climb from my car.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, meeting me in the driveway. He kisses me. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s a good surprise, but you said you were helping your sister today.” He’s wearing sweats stained with motor oil, and nothing else. He’s dripping in masculinity, in that rough caveman way.
I press a fingertip to his chest, drawing a heart. “I was having some trouble focusing. She kicked me out.”
He chuckles and motions for me to follow him into the house. He stops in the closest bathroom and washes his hands. The outside air temperature isn’t yet hot enough to make him sweat.
I lean against the doorframe, holding on to it as his muscles flex simply from soaping up and rinsing his hands. I have never, ever wanted someone the way I want Gabriel. I didn’t know it was possible for all my cells to yearn for something. Forsomeone.
I can do this. Open my mouth and use my words. Tell Gabriel I will melt, right here and right now, if he doesn’t take me to bed.
Gabriel finishes drying his hands and tosses the towel on the counter. He faces me, reaching up to grip the top of the doorframe with one hand. “Trouble focusing?” He leans closer, the timbre of his voice rattling my chest. “What’s the problem?”
My shallow breath turns to honey, sticking in my throat. “I…um…I…”
Something passes over his face, maybe it’s understanding, or maybe it’s what I’ve been feeling since the moment I met him.
Like it’s all so big, so much, so overwhelming. Like we are us, but we are also a mammoth wave, hurtling our direction, preparing to sweep us out to sea. We will be the ones to drown ourselves. That is what this feels like. A storm we’ve created, and willingly put ourselves in its path of destruction.
I drag in a heavy breath, and my tongue slips out to moisten my lips. This small movement tips the scale, and Gabriel hauls me flush against his chest. We pivot, my back against the wall, and Gabriel’s mouth is on mine. I open for him, and his tongue sweeps inside. This action isn’t new for us, but the tone is different. Somehow he is both tender and demanding, hands on my cheeks, my neck, sliding down my rib cage. My hands roam too, over his perfect chest and his even better shoulders, wrapping around him as I press myself as close as I can get with our clothes on.
“I want you,” Gabriel whispers, slipping his hand under my shirt. “Is that ok?”
