“Your place,” she says, her mind made up.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Layla
I was honest when I said I’ve never dated a man with kids before. I don’t know how to navigate all that. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Right now, I just want to enjoy what little time I have with Gabe.
He drives us toward Wrigleyville and I’m not surprised this is where he lives when he’s in Chicago. It’s close to the ballpark and his old stomping grounds. I’m sure he feels at home here. It’s crazy to think we both call Chicago home. Well, at least part of the time. We both travel from place to place frequently. But I always end up back in Chicago, just like Gabe.
As soon as we step inside, he grasps me by the hips and pulls me to him, his lips once again on mine. “Layla,” he practically growls, hunger in his eyes.
“Gabe,” I answer, his lips now on mine.
We’re frenzied in our actions, both of us not wanting the night to end. He strips me out of my dress and it falls to the floor, in a pool of fabric. I step out of the garment and slip off my shoes as he strips me out of my bra. As his hands are on me, I manage to push his suit coat off and unbutton his black dress shirt, revealing his toned physique. Craving the connection, I run my hands over his muscles, reveling in the hardness. Sliding my fingers downward, I unbutton his pants. And just as I’m about to delve my hand inside, he hooks his fingers in my panties and yanks, snapping the delicate lace.
“Gabe!” I exclaim, shocked that he did that.
He smirks and discards the lace remnants, pulling them away from my already soaked core. Not to be outdone, I push off his shirt where it falls to the floor, joining my dress. Hands back on him, I open his pants and push them down, along with his boxer briefs, revealing his long, thick erection. I lick my lips. I can’t wait.
“On your knees.”
I don’t hesitate; I drop to my knees, the wetness between my legs making my thighs slick. Opening my mouth, I take his hard length in, sucking him deep. So deep, it makes him grunt.
“Mmm, Layla, just like that,” he croons as my lips form a suction around the base of his shaft, the head bumping the back of my throat.
I suck and lick and lave his shaft as he slides his fingers into my hair, gently guiding me. I’m enjoying this so very much. Sneaking a hand between my legs, I find my swollen clit and rub, moaning around his thickness, my moans turning into hums.
Tapping my cheek, he pulls out of my mouth, then lifts me to my feet. He doesn’t say anything; he just leads me down the hall, presumably to his bedroom. “Get on your hands and knees on the bed,” he commands.
If I wasn’t so turned on by his alpha tendencies in the bedroom, I probably wouldn’t obey. Outside the bedroom, it’s definitely not in my nature to do what I’m told. But when Gabe says it, I do it. There’s just something that turns me on about a man when he takes control in the bedroom. I find it sexy as hell. And Gabe is certainly that.
I get on the bed, my arousal liberally leaking out of me now. With my legs spread like this, he can see how turned on I am. And I’m embarrassingly wet. Feeling the bed dip behind me, Gabe doesn’t give me any warning—his hot mouth is there, between my legs, licking up my cream, sucking on my clit. “Gabe!” I cry out in pleasure, my legs wobbly.
He keeps up the onslaught, licking and sucking, spearing his tongue into my channel. I can only take so much until I explode, my climax slamming into me as my pussy clamps down hard. I moan, my orgasm making my legs tremble. My pussy is still fluttering when I feel him slide into me.
“Layla,” he grunts, deep inside me, my pussy gripping his hard shaft.
“Mmhmm,” I echo, loving the feel of him inside me. He fills me up just perfectly.
Letting me adjust to his size, he then grasps my hips and starts to move in and out of me, sending my pleasure to new heights. He finds that magic spot inside me, the same time his fingers rub my clit. It’s too much and again I climax, my release rushing over me like a tsunami. I’m literally dripping and I’m so slick that Gabe slides in and out of me with ease. I’m about to fall forward, my legs and arms trembling from weakness, when he bands an arm around my waist, his hand on my belly. He thrusts a few more times and comes, his release spilling into me as he grunts softly behind me. He pumps a couple more times before gently pulling out of me.
Without the support of his arms around me, I fall forward, a puddle of pleasure. He drops down next to me and places a sweet kiss on my shoulder. “Be right back,” he murmurs.
I lay there and let my body come down from its post-sex haze. Gabe’s a generous lover. I find it sexy and irresistible at the same time. Just like the man himself.
The bed dips and I feel Gabe lean over me. He gently parts my legs and cleans me up. How sweet is that? He takes care of the washcloth and comes back, taking me in his arms. Snuggled up, he kisses my head and closes his eyes. He’s out. And then so am I, both of us worn out from our lovemaking.
The Next Morning
Gabe
I wake up, and the sun is not even up yet. It’s early and Layla is still sleeping, her cheek against my chest, her long lashes tickling my skin. I watch her for a few minutes, taking mental pictures. I already know I want to see her again, but I don’t know when. And that makes my heart heavy.
“Hey,” she says, her voice gravelly from sleep.
“Morning,” I say softly, kissing her temple.
Rolling onto her back and yawning, she asks, “What time is it?”
