Freaking hell. The guy is a master of turning the tables, and man is he smooth. Even though I know he’s trying to divert me, I can’t help going gooey inside as he turns my palm over and kisses it. I close my eyes, battling the urge to shove the table aside and have my way with him right here, right now. I deserve a medal for resisting him as long as I did. Now that I know how it feels to have him inside me, I can’t fathom how I ever thought I could keep him at arm’s length. It was only a matter of time before we ended up here.
“What do you want, Syd?” he asks.
I want to be seen. I want to be loved. I want to be wanted.
But I’m a self-respecting woman, so I don’t say any of that out loud. Instead I say the closest thing I can without tearing up. “I want to not be lonely anymore.”
“Aw, baby.” He kisses my hand again, then presses it to his cheek, his gaze locked on mine. “You won’t be,carino. I promise.”
His intensity makes me shiver. I wish I could believe him. I want to, wholeheartedly, but this is Gabe, and I know him better than anyone. He’s the king of overcommitting himself. So I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see how this plays out.
After lunch, we go to the movies to watch a romantic comedy—Gabe’s choice. Apparently he wants to cram the full dating experience into one day, and that includes sacrificing his manliness to watch something I’ll like. Twenty minutes into the film, his hand creeps over my thigh in the dark theater, then edges up and dips beneath the waistband of my pants.
“Behave yourself,” I mutter, bur don’t stop him as his hand travels deeper, settling over my pussy, which is already wet and throbbing for his attention.
“Stop?” he asks, his lips beside my ear.
“Yes.” I don’t want him to, but we have to draw a line somewhere. Unfortunately, as soon as he removes his hand, I rock toward it, seeking him out. It’s a natural instinct, one I didn’t expect, and I feel his lips curve.
“Liar,” he breathes, his hand hovering above me, only an inch from where I want it most. I whimper. Why is he tormenting me like this? Why can’t he just touch me? “Do you want it, baby? Or not?”
Furtively, I glance around. There’s no one in our row, but the girls below us have given me the stink eye a couple of times.
His lips tease the edge of my ear. “Yes or no? ’Cause I’m having trouble keeping my hands off you.”
I release a shaky breath, giving in to my what my body craves. “Yes.”
“That’s my girl.”
He eases his fingers through my slick folds, and after the anticipation that’s been building with every second he held off, my hips buck and my head drops back. He pushes one finger into me, cupping me with his palm, putting delicious pressure on my clit.
“Oh, God,” I whisper.
“Shh.” His soothing tone is at odds with the commanding, masterful way he crooks his finger inside me. Holy shit, my hips rise even further, and I have to clench my teeth together to bite back a moan. I can’t believe we’re doing this. His fingers are inside me, and meanwhile the film is still playing, and the other twenty or so patrons in the theater are none the wiser. Somehow, that only makes me wetter.
He moves his finger again, like he’s summoning the wicked part of me out to play. Reaching over, I try to grab his cock so he knows the intense mixture of pleasure and frustration I’m experiencing, but he gently shifts my hand away, denying me. Then he leans closer and his mouth brushes my temple.
“You’re like an addiction.” His breath tickles my ear. “I’ve denied myself for so long and now that I’ve taken one hit, I can’t get enough.”
His words stoke a fire inside me because he’s given voice to my deepest, most secret desire. Iwantto be someone’s everything. To know that they can’t function without me. I yearn for it. And perhaps a psychologist would say that’s a result of growing up without much affection, but I think a lot of people feel this way, deep down. We like to be wanted, but weloveto be needed.
“You’ll never be lonely again,” he goes on, pumping his thick finger deliciously. “Because every time you turn, I’ll be there.”
His palm squeezes around my pussy, and suddenly I’m on the edge. My breathing is shallow, and I’m on the verge of screaming his name and begging him to make me come. Turning in his seat, he covers my mouth with his, hushing any involuntary sounds that might escape. He works me with his fingers and I plummet into a spectacular orgasm, shivering and clenching around him. When I finally still, he extracts himself from my pants and sucks his fingers clean.
“I need you,” he murmurs, voice rough. “I need to remind myself this is real. That I’ve had you, and I can have you again.”
I snatch his magical hand and stumble to my feet. “Let’s get out of here.”
Gabe
“Bro, how are you doing?” Devon calls across the room when I arrive at the gym on Monday morning. “Still pissed about the fight? Want to work out your anger on me? I’m up for some tough sparring.”
I pretend not to hear him. If I give him nothing, perhaps he’ll leave me be. I’m not sure how to break the news about me and Sydney, or whether I even should yet.
“Dev, you know his mood has shit-all to do with the fight,” Jase adds, loudly enough that it’s impossible to ignore him. “He’s sour because Sydney’s dating. That’s what threw him off on Saturday. So,” he strides over and bumps my fist, “did she tear you a new one when you went to apologize? Do I need to send Lena to do damage control?”
“Syd and I are fine,” I say, and can’t help but think of howveryfine she is.
