I find his chest with my hands, feeling his hard muscles and the dark hairs at the top of his pecs. Gabriel growls as he rubs his wet crown to my hole, shaking with pleasure.
I pull my knees back. “Fuck me,” I groan, but when he leans forward, he kisses me instead.
Lips close, our bodies pressed together, he finally slides in.
I feel the pressure fill me, inch by inch. My legs wrap around Gabriel’s body, holding him to me as he slides in and out again. I’m horny and desperate to take him against my spot, and I thrust my hips back, fucking against him until we’re going harder and deeper.
“Just like this,” Gabriel grunts, driving me into waves of bliss. “Want to come deep inside you, Spencer.”
I claw at his back. “Deeper,” I grunt, the pressure still not enough to satisfy me. Gabriel’s touch is everywhere, the sensation unlike anything I’ve ever known, and my cock gushes precum between our bodies as the start of an orgasm shakes me.
With a satisfied moan, Gabriel sinks all the way, burying himself in me. When I clench tight, he goes still, staying there. My hole squeezes, and his cock pulses inside of me. We both gasp for breath, and when I roll my hips down, Gabriel convulses. We’re fucking again, riding each other, and time expands, every heartbeat lasting an eternity of ecstasy.
His voice erupts in a groan, and he jerks from his hips as he orgasms.
The wet heat fills me, and I hear myself cry out as I climax, too. My body convulses with an orgasm, and bolts of ecstasy obliterate me in Gabriel’s embrace.
Gabriel collapses on me. He stays buried as we breathe heavily, holding each other.
“Damn,” he finally says, breaking the silence. “That was fuckinghot.”
I laugh, leaning up. “Yeah. Damn,” I agree.
Carefully and slowly, Gabriel slides out of me and leans up, too. “Maybe we should move to Miami. This hotel room, specifically.”
I pull him under my arm. I can still feel his warmth deep inside me, and I need his body close. “The sunshine wouldn’t upset your Seattle sensibilities?”
“I could learn to live with it.” He turns his eyes out over the water, crystal blue out the window. “Probably write some decent songs here.” Suddenly, Gabriel turns his eyes back to me.
“Shit,” he says.
“What?”
“My recording sessions are about to start. And your season is in full swing.”
“Oh.” I sit up, realizing what he’s talking about. “Damn. When are we going to see each other again? The fake dating schedule didn’t have us meeting up again for weeks.”
“You’ve said a million times you train best at home. So that’s what you need to be doing. I’ll have to figure out how to come to you.”
“You need to be in the recording studio the same as I need to be on the tennis court,” I point out, the song from earlier still ringing in my ears. I know what this album means to Gabriel, and despite how grateful I am for his support, I don’t want it at the cost of his own success. “I require more swoon-worthy songs from my husband.”
Gabriel chuckles. “Okay. Got it. Compromise.” He crawls on top of me again, hovering above my body. “I’ve got to head back to play the first couple songs for Fox. But after that, I’ll come to Boston. I can work on my songs while I’m there, and when you head to your next tournament, I’ll return straight to Seattle and the recording studio. Deal?” He drags his lips across my collar, his body still hot from sex. “We can optimize our time together.”
“Compromise,” I say with a nod. All that additional travel sounds time-consuming, but if Gabriel says he can write music in Boston, I’m not going to doubt him.
I pull him by the shoulders so Gabriel falls against me. “We’ll make our time together work,” I say, holding him for the last minutes before I should rush out the door. “It won’t be a conventional schedule, but neither of us had one of those in the first place.”
He nuzzles against me. “Of course we’ll make it work. You’re smart, and I’m crafty. As long as we’re together, we can figure anything out.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
GABRIEL
“Describe the recording studio to me,”Spencer says over the phone. “If you’re going to spend the next forty-eight hours there, I want to be able to picture it.”
I smile to myself. That’s cute. My nerves are rising ahead of sharing the new music with Fox, but having Spencer excited for me helps.
“Well, it’s empty,” I tell him as I walk through the space. “Fox sent the crew home so the two of us can focus. The equipment and tech are all stored in handsome wooden cases. And there’s a spacious tile bathroom where I’ll be jerking my cock and thinking about fucking you again when the stress gets to be too much,” I add, joking to paper over my anxiety.
