Touched

by Sabre Rose

  “Via a wine bottle, I’m guessing,” a voice behind me said.

  Peta looked up. “Hey,” she said. “You’re not supposed to be in here. You’re not a girl.”

  My heart started racing when I registered who the voice belonged to. “Gabe?” I said, peering around the wall that blocked him from my view.

  “Stefan called,” he said as a way of explanation. He stepped in through the doorway, only to reel back. “My god! What have you been doing in here, boss?”

  “Don’t talk to me about what I’ve done. Let’s talk about what you did.” She wagged her finger at him then clutched onto the door. “I think I need to go home.” She turned back to the toilet for a few moments before pulling herself up straight and holding the back of her hand to her mouth. “False alarm,” she said and held out her hand to cover Gabe like he was a bright light. “Don’t look,” she said. “Oh god, this is mortifying.”

  Gabe cautiously walked over and took her arm. “It’s all good, boss. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  “Not from me, it’s not!” she said indignantly. She pulled herself away from Gabe but just ended up swaying before clutching for him again.

  Gabe chuckled. “Your chariot awaits, boss lady.”

  With Gabe on one side and me on the other, we managed to get Peta outside and into the front seat of Gabe’s jeep. I clambered into the back, and couldn’t help the rush of alcohol-fuelled pleasure that rippled through me when I caught Gabe checking out my backside. Then I remembered my earlier mental note to self, do not engage with Gabe while drunk. Then I decided to add another mental note. Don’t get a rush just because someone checks you out.

  Shrek came out of the house as soon as we pulled up. “Thanks, man,” he said to Gabe as they dragged Peta inside. “Looks like you had a big night, my love.” They lowered Peta onto the couch.

  Peta nodded pitifully. “Just can’t handle the jandal no more,” she muttered. She smiled at me but the corners of her mouth slanted downwards instead of upwards. “No coffee beans tonight.”

  10

  LAUREN

  “You okay?” Gabe asked when we were back in the car.

  I nodded. “Just need to sleep it off. I’ll be right as rain in the morning.” Well, I hoped I would be. I had work the next day. My stomach started to turn and I felt an alcohol-induced wave of sickness wash over me. “Pull over,” I said while reaching for the door handle.

  Gabe pulled to the side of the road and I got out just in time to empty the contents of my stomach all over the sidewalk. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. I waved Gabe away when he stood behind me.

  “Don’t look,” I muttered and heaved again.

  Gabe simply drew my hair away from my face and gently rubbed my back. “Believe me,” he said. “I’ve been here countless times before. It’s all good.”

  I managed to slowly stand as the turning in my stomach quelled.

  “Feel better?” Gabe asked.

  “Just take me home.”

  Gabe shook his head. “No way, not when you’re like this. My house is closer. You’re coming home with me.”

  “No,” I said vehemently.

  “Don’t worry, there is no way I would make a move on you while you’re like this.” He laughed. “What do you think I am?”

  “That’s not what I meant. It’s just—”

  “It’s not up for debate. It would be irresponsible of me to leave you alone like this, so the only choice you get is your place or mine?”

  My stomach lurched again and I ran over to the small strip of grass near the pathway. I heaved, but nothing came up. Fortunately, I managed to keep it under control for the drive back. Gabe’s house was dark and he led me to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and held his hand under the water until the temperature was right.

  “You’ll feel better once you’re cleaned up.”

  He walked out the door and closed it behind him as I undressed and gingerly climbed into the shower. It was bliss. The water ran over my face as I tipped it back and leaned against the cold tiles. The thoughts in my mind were heavy and thick. I picked up the soap and pressed it between my hands, lathering enough bubbles to run over my skin. When my hands passed over the scar, sadness welled up and the tears started to form. I knew many women had that same scar. But at least for them, it was a reminder of what they had, not of what they could never have.

  Damn that alcohol.

  When the door creaked open, Gabe informed me there was a t-shirt and a towel waiting. Under the curtain, I saw him pick up my clothes and take them away. I’m not sure how long I stood there, but the water had turned cold when I finally twisted the faucets off. Already, I was feeling a little better. I guess that was the only benefit of vomiting on the side of the road. All the alcohol had been dumped from my body.

  I towel-dried my hair and slipped into Gabe’s t-shirt. It smelled like him. I lifted up the hem and inhaled deeply.

  Whenever women wore men’s t-shirts in the movies, they were too big and their bodies sexily slipped into them. That is not how it happened. The t-shirt barely covered my butt cheeks and it clung tightly to my hips and chest. Gabe had broad shoulders and a well-developed chest, but it was still not as well developed as mine.

  Pulling the edge of the t-shirt down, I tiptoed down the hall and slipped into Gabe’s bedroom. He was already lying in bed, hands propped behind his head. He grinned and let his eyes wander over me unabashed. I tried to stand so my thighs didn’t look quite so wide but there was really no point. There was no hiding. Noticing my discomfort, he rummaged in the drawer of his bedside cabinet and tossed me a pair of boxers. “Sorry, didn’t think about underwear.”

  I pulled them on hastily and tossed back the covers so I could climb into bed. Turning onto my side, I curled myself up tightly and gathered the sheets under my chin, trying not to let the nauseating waves of the waterbed get to me.

  “Sorry I’m such a mess,” I said into the darkness when he turned off the light.

  He didn’t reply. Instead, he moved closer and snuggled in behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist and holding me tight.

  “Night, buddy,” he said and I could hear the smile on his lips.

  “Night,” I echoed, and promptly fell into a drunken sleep.

  * * *

  Gabe wasn’t in bed when I woke the next morning but I could hear noises outside the door, people talking and pots clanging. I poked my head out and managed to slip unnoticed down to the bathroom. Even though I had showered the night before, I still felt grimy. Fortunately, my stomach felt fine. No alcohol left in my system meant no hangover. I was horrified when I looked in the mirror and saw my messed up hair and the lines of smudged mascara that stained my cheeks. Hastily, I jumped through the shower, pulled Gabe’s t-shirt and boxers back on, and wrapped the towel around my wet hair.

  “Morning,” Gabe called as soon as I stepped into the lounge. He and the flatmates were in the kitchen. Drew was cooking bacon and eggs.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  My wet clothes were hanging on one of the clothes racks. I had no choice but to walk into the kitchen wearing nothing but Gabe’s t-shirt and boxers. Gabe’s eyes instantly lit up as they roamed over my body and I was mortified when my nipples hardened, whether, from his gaze or the cold, I wasn’t sure. I willed them away but failed. Gabe’s eyes were stuck on my chest, his pupils wide and dark, but when he noticed the others doing the same, he yelled, “Eyes off,” and the boys obeyed. Gabe pulled out one of the stools at the breakfast bar and Drew produced a plate full of bacon and eggs. It smelled divine, but after a little taste, I decided that was all I needed. Best not to push things.

  Gabe disappeared into the shower and Stefan took the opportunity to harass me about the state I was in the night before.

  “Gabe’s got a hairdryer in his room,” Drew said, nodding to my towel-covered wet hair.

  I excused myself and walked into Gabe’s room to find him stark naked, pulling on a pair o
f boxers. Mortified, I turn away and covered my eyes. “I’m so sorry! I thought you were still in the shower.” The colour rose up my cheeks and I knew that it was the kind when I turned beet red.

  Gabe didn’t say anything and wrestled with his jeans until I heard him walk the few steps over to me. I stayed facing the door, covering my eyes with my hands, until the pressure of his touch turned me to face him. His eyes were dark. He reached up and pulled at the towel, releasing my damp hair. My breath hitched and I stood frozen as he brushed it back. He stepped closer and I backed into the door as he placed his hands either side of my face. Replaying the last time I found myself in this position, he didn’t do anything but stare. His blue eyes burned into mine, waiting for me to pull myself off the door and inch closer to him. I didn’t. I held his gaze and lifted my chin a little. If he wanted me, he could damn well make the first move. We were so close, I only needed to move a fraction and I knew I could have his lips on mine. But again, I didn’t.

  And then, in one smooth movement, Gabe’s eyes fell to my lips, his hand snaked around my waist, up my back, and jerked me close until I was pressed against him. I could feel his heat, feel his breath as it came out hot and heavy. He waited for me again, still looking longingly at my lips. My breathing quickened and I could see the hunger in his eyes, but I still didn’t move.

  Finally, after a few moments where I wrestled with myself and almost gave in, he crushed his mouth against mine. The force slammed my body back against the door and, unable to contain myself any longer, I ran my hands over his shoulders and around his neck, threading them through his hair, pulling him harder against me. His hand fell to my breast and I groaned as my nipples hardened under his touch. His other hand skimmed up the back of my neck and twisted my hair, tugging it against my scalp. My hands remained tangled in his blond locks as he held my head back with his grasp and lowered his head to my breast, sucking on my nipple through the soft material of his own shirt. I melted. My knees buckled and I came undone.

  Until I heard the sound of muffled laughter on the other side of the door. I stiffened and Gabe groaned with denied pleasure. He moved back up my body and placed his lips on my ear.

  “I need you,” he whispered, hushed and breathless. “Please say I can come over tonight.”

  “Yes.” The word escaped before I could catch it.

  11

  LAUREN

  Work was torture. I got three coffee orders wrong and burned the milk twice. Gabe wasn’t scheduled on and Jordan, Mark and I completed the close.

  “You alright, love?” Mark asked as I wiped the glass in the cabinet for the fourth time. I looked at him, not understanding, and he nodded to the cabinet. “I’m pretty sure that’s clean now.”

  I looked at the way the glass sparkled and laughed nervously. “You’re probably right.”

  “It’s quarter to ten. We would like to go home, if that’s okay with you?” Mark said, picking up his jacket and shrugging it over his shoulders. It was one of those fake leather ones he had obviously had for years and the elbows and shoulders were scuffed. Jordan was leaning against the counter, tapping on her phone.

  “Sorry, I’m just distracted.” I stood and wiped my hands down my apron. “Just let me grab my stuff and then we can lock up.”

  I was desperate, yet terrified, to get home. Gabe knew we closed up at nine and were usually out of there before nine thirty, so, no doubt, he would be waiting for me. I picked up my bag and sighed. I had almost talked myself out of going through with it. I hadn’t slept with anyone other than Derek. Ever. What if I didn’t do it right? What if he took one look at the stretch marks or my scar and went running for the hills? He wouldn’t be used to bodies like mine. I couldn’t stand the thought of it.

  I drove the long way home and even slowed down at orange lights rather than racing through them. But Gabe wasn’t waiting when I got there so I had the chance to take a quick shower, make sure I was groomed and smooth. What to change into was a problem. Usually, I would get straight into pyjamas, but I didn’t want to greet him wearing something that had fluffy pink pigs on it. In the end, I blindly pulled a loose flowing sun dress over my head. I had chosen underwear that was neither flashy nor too casual. I didn’t want him to think I had dressed up especially, but I also didn’t want him to see me in the underwear I usually chose to wear. There was never this pressure when I slept with Derek.

  Smudge became the most affectionate cat in the world and wrapped himself around my legs, smooching against me and purring loudly. I shoved him away but he persisted until I sat on the bed and pulled him into my lap. “What am I doing?” I asked him. He only purred in response. Fat lot of good he was.

  I was in the middle of tidying up my bedroom and wondering if he had chickened out, or if he had only ever wanted me to say yes so he could then reject me, when the doorbell rang. My heart leapt to my throat. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and took a few deep breaths to calm myself.

  “Hey,” I said, pulling open the door and smiling brightly. Too brightly, probably. I toned it down a little and then just stood there awkwardly staring and holding the door open.

  “Hey, yourself.” Gabe kissed me on the cheek then walked past into the lounge. Placing a bottle of wine on the coffee table, he leaned back on the couch. “Hope you haven’t been waiting too long. I didn’t want to appear too eager.”

  I laughed and it came out high pitched and unnatural. “Shall we?” I said, reaching for the bottle and holding it up.

  I had moved to the kitchen and reached for the wine glasses at the top of the cupboard when I felt the warmth of him behind me. I held my breath as his hands fluttered on my waist. A rush of excitement rippled in my chest. Slowly, I lowered the glasses to the bench as he placed his lips against my neck, kissing it softly. I closed my eyes, silently cursing as I literally quivered with desire. He ran the tip of his nose along the curve of my neck and nibbled on my earlobe.

  “Which way to the bedroom?” he whispered.

  I could do nothing but nod in the direction of my room. He took my hand and led me down the hall, stopping occasionally to push me against the wall and kiss me urgently. I wanted him. I needed him. But as he pushed against me, I couldn’t help the terror that ran through me at the thought of him seeing me naked.

  He pulled me into the bedroom and shut the door on a curious Smudge. I stood helpless and unsure of myself as he approached. Pulling his shirt off, I inwardly gasped at the sight of him. He was splendid. Tanned skin, mussed up hair and glorious smooth muscles that flexed as he moved.

  But he gave me very little time to admire him as he drew me close, took my face in his hands and crushed his mouth to mine. His kiss was so sensual and I felt sick with nervousness as my desire for him increased. My hands hung limply at my side, unsure where to touch. Gingerly, I ran them softly up the skin of his back. The harder I pressed into him the louder he groaned. And it was a glorious groan, almost enough to make me forget myself, but not quite. When his hands ran down my sides and grabbed for the hem of my dress, I held them in place.

  “Don’t,” I whispered.

  “I want to see you,” he said between kisses on my neck.

  “I… I…” I stammered. “I don’t—”

  He pulled away from me and sat down on the bed, tugging me with him as he held onto the hem of my dress. Releasing his grip on the material, he undid the buttons on his jeans and then stood, letting them fall to the ground and I saw his fullness, hard and ready, under the thin material of his boxers. I swallowed and let my eyes drink him in as he stood before me, holding himself on display. I had never seen anyone so perfect, which only confused me all the more as to why he would want me. I ran my eyes back up his body to find him staring at me, just a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He tucked his hair behind his ears and took my hands.

  “I want you,” he said huskily. He looked down at his erection and then back up at me. “I really want you. Every part of me wants you. Isn’t that all t
hat matters?”

  I took a hesitant step forward and in one quick movement, he ripped my dress off. He barely glanced at me before nuzzling into my neck, kissing, licking and sucking on the flesh around my breasts. Reaching behind, he fumbled with my bra and, within moments, my breasts were bare and exposed.

  “I want you,” he said again.

  Then he took me in his arms and we fell together on top of the bed. Running his hands along my sides, he took my breast in his mouth, swirling his tongue over my nipple again and again. My breathing quickened and I moaned as he teased my flesh, grazing his teeth over my skin and nibbling at will. I felt the moisture seep between my legs and knew my underwear was soaked. I ran my hands over his shoulders, taking in the firm smoothness of his muscles as he reached down and tugged at my underwear.

  “My god, you’re wet,” he said as he pulled them down my legs and flung them to the floor. Bending over the side of the bed, he reached for his jeans, searching the pocket and removing a foil wrapper. He ripped it with his teeth, dropped his boxers and stepped out of them. He was hard. And large. But again, he barely gave me the chance to look, as he expertly covered himself, climbing over me and plunging inside. I gasped as he filled me and he groaned loudly. Propping himself up on his elbows, he withdrew slowly until he was almost out but not completely. He looked at me and kissed the tip of my nose. “Okay?” he asked.

  I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t utter a word, so instead, I nodded and he slowly thrust back inside. I had never felt someone so hard, so virile, and it turned me on no end. He filled every part of me, causing me to moan in wonder. He kept his eyes on mine as he moved in and out. His rhythmic motion and the way the base of him pressed against me as he rose with each thrust, built inside. I bit my lip, trying to contain my growing desire. I had never come solely from penetration before but the urge was there, and it throbbed until I wasn’t sure I could contain it any longer. The sight of me struggling caused him to start moving more urgently. His thrusts became harder and faster, and I arched back on the bed, twisting the sheets between my fingers.