“I want to be with you—not out of some weird duty thing, but because my body literally aches to be close to yours. My heart races at one simple look from your eyes. When my name caresses your tongue, I want to drown in your voice.”
I groan, fucking tortured. “It’s not that I don’t want to—fuck, I want to—but you’re in such a vulnerable place, I can’t live with you regretting anything.”
“I’m an adult, Gabe. Consenting.”
“What if you feel this intense because it’s new for you? I’m the first man you’ve been around who isn’t an asshole.”
“Jameson, he’s been good to me, and I don’t want to be with him—I don’t feel this for him.”
The man in me wants to say fuck it all and ravage her body until she’s a quivering mess. Show her how a man should treat her—worship every sacred inch, devote every minute of every day showering her in affection and orgasms. But the realist, the side of me that fucking feels this intense need to protect and comfort her, knows it would be too soon, too inappropriate to take her to my bed and fuck her senseless.
She’s killing me. Moving across the room, I kneel one knee on the bed, grasping her cheeks. “I fucking want you. Whatever this is between us, it’s more than I’ve ever felt with anyone, but you need time—we need to give it time.”
My heart cracks when she dips her head and covers her chest with her palms. “It was stupid of me. I shouldn’t have.”
“No. Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” Her eyes are glassy with unshed tears.
“Shame yourself. You have no idea what a gift it is for you to want to give me this part of you. I’m the luckiest bastard in the world.”
“Well, you could have been.” She smiles, and suddenly everything is right in the world. “Will you lay with me?”
A gentle bob of her head has a relieved sigh fleeing my lips. “Maybe put a shirt on,” I add, going to my dresser and pulling one out for her to wear.
Once we’re both partially clothed, we lay with her in my arms. For now, this will have to be enough.
“I’ve been thinking about my mother,” she murmurs, her fingertips dancing across my abs.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I think I’m going to go see her.”
“I could come with you,” I offer, fear bubbling like lava in my chest at her traveling so far alone.
“Thank you, but I think it’s something I need to do on my own. It’s time I learn how to be a person, you know? I’m going to be brave, and it’s because of you, so thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Sixteen
Willa
This happened fast—too fast. It’s been four days since I told Gabe I wanted to go visit my mother, and Jameson helped get my documents together. I didn’t ask how, I was just grateful he cared enough to follow through with his original offer. I asked for an open-ended ticket. I don’t think Gabe realizes I don’t plan to return here until I know in my heart everything I feel for him is not a stupid girl’s mind telling her she should fall in love with her savior.
“I got you a cellphone and programmed my number inside so you can call or text to let me know you arrived. If for any reason you need to come home or want me to come to get you, just use the phone, okay?”
God, he’s so adorable, I want to bottle him and take him with me, gulping down much-needed shots of him when everything becomes overwhelming.
“There’s not enough I can say to tell you how grateful I am to you.” I wrap my arms around his neck. Reaching up on tiptoes, I embrace him with everything I have, savoring his touch, scent, voice. I’m going to miss him so much. My soul already aches and I’m still in his arms.
“You got the credit card and cash I gave you?”
“Yes. I’ll be okay,” I assure not only him, but myself.
“Okay. You better go to your gate.” He releases me, and I refuse to look up at him. If I do, I won’t board the plane.
“Remember you can come home whenever you want to.” His gaze is so heartbreakingly tender. I want to scream, Don’t let me go! But I know I have to do this for us both.
“Bye, Gabe.” I choke out, turning away from him.
His hand reaches out for my wrist, tugging me back, sweeping me up in his arms, rendering me weightless in his embrace. Almost violently, he captures my lips with his, tasting, memorizing. Moaning into his mouth, I part my lips as his hot tongue strokes inside, exploring. Strong arms squeeze as his thick lips caress, nip, devour.
We’re both breathless when he pulls back and releases me, a haunted expression darkening the greens of his eyes, and then he’s leaving. “Bye, Willa.”