I pushed him onto his back, lowering myself until the tip of his dick hit my chin. I gripped him at the base and studied his girth for a moment before licking him like a lollipop. I was a novice at the art of giving a decent blowjob, but his hum of approval was encouraging.
“Fuck baby, that’s good,” he groaned loudly.
I glanced up and set my finger over my lips in warning before swallowing as much of him as I could. I stroked and sucked, pausing occasionally to fondle his balls. My skills may have been lacking but I made up for it with enthusiasm, bobbing my head while Gabe ran his fingers through my hair. I figured it was safe to do what I liked. Gabe seemed to agree. He lifted his hips and let out a muffled cry of warning. I sucked harder and didn’t stop until he pushed my forehead. Then I crawled over him and laid on his chest.
Gabe rolled over, switching positions and bucking his pelvis playfully. I felt him harden against my stomach. Not enough that he’d want to come again but enough to create a delicious friction. I raised my ass slightly and shivered when his length grazed my hole. I held his face between my hands and gave him a hungry look.
“I want to feel you inside me.”
Gabe widened his eyes and licked his lips. “Now?”
I reached down and squeezed his semi-erect cock, chuckling when he flinched. “Can you?”
Gabe shook his head and rolled to his side. “I can barely breathe right now. Give me ten minutes.”
I hooked my leg over his and shifted to face him. “Should I time you?”
“Such a smartass. Who knew? Actually, I did. You act calm and collected outside of the pool, but I always suspected you were a little fiery.”
“Fiery? Like hotheaded?” I asked dubiously. I was pragmatic and controlled—not fiery in the slightest, but I liked that he thought so.
“No. Passionate.” Gabe traced my eyebrows and cheekbones before leaning in to suck my bottom lip. “You want to know something?”
“Hmm?”
“Every day I want you more. It’s never been like this for me,” he said softly.
“Me either.” I closed my eyes for a second. “I never want this to end.”
Gabe frowned. “Why would it end?”
I shrugged. “I don’t want anything to change, but I’m going to graduate and you’re going to the Olympics. I’m not suggesting we’re like your last relationship but—”
“We’re nothing like that,” he intercepted, furrowing his brow. “And we’re not ending. We’re beginning, babe.”
There was a feverish quality in his eyes that dared me to challenge him. I wasn’t a total idiot. I wouldn’t bring up the weird looks my ex gave me in class or Evan’s questioning stare when I told him I was hanging out with Gabe again. I had a feeling we weren’t as inconspicuous as we hoped.
Or maybe I was an idiot, I mused when I opened my mouth and asked, “Did he hurt you?”
Gabe’s already intense expression went steely. I was instantly reminded of what it felt like to be on opposing teams. His feral gaze was meant to send a warning sign. This topic was off-limits. As it should have been. No one wanted to rehash a painful breakup.…But I was beyond curious about the man who came before me.
When the silence stretched on, I figured he wouldn’t respond. And then he did.
“We hurt each other. Our expectations didn’t match our reality anymore, which I suppose is another way to say we grew apart. We weren’t honest about what we wanted. The funny thing about dishonesty is that you think you’re protecting something and you end up killing it. You know, I didn’t want to tell him I made the national team at first.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. Maybe on some level, I knew we wouldn’t make it. Is that what happened with you and Amanda?”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “I knew it was over well before I broke up with her. I just didn’t know why.”
Gabe held my gaze thoughtfully. “Are you okay? You look sad.”
I shrugged and kissed his brow. “I’m fine. Want to go to the beach?”
He grabbed my wrist when I scooted to the edge of the mattress. “Hang on. If you’re worried about something, you should tell me.”
“I’m not worried, but…Gabe, we can’t sneak around forever.”
“We’re fine. We have six weeks left in our season. We got this.”
“And then what?”
“Hey.” Gabe bent to suck on my left nipple, then sat up. “We’ll worry about it when we get there, but nothing has to change. What time is it?”
“Eight forty-five,” I replied, running my fingers along his spine. “Evan sleeps until noon on Sundays. Get ready.”
Gabe crossed the room to pick up his backpack and frowned. “I need swim trunks. I’m not wearing a banana hammock to the beach.”