by Nikki Chase
I cling desperately as Gabe pulls away, but his hand on my belly keeps me flat on my back as he gets up onto his knees. He puts his finger over my clit, and a more familiar kind of pleasure floods my insides with warmth.
“Come for me,” Gabe orders as he rubs my clit harder and fucks me faster.
As if entranced, my body involuntarily shudders. Waves of happy chemicals spread from my core to my toes and the tips of my hair.
At the edge of my consciousness, I’m aware of Gabe thrusting into me again and again with more and more force. His violent pumping prolongs my climax, pushing me into orgasmic bliss.
This must be heaven.
Gabriel
Jolts of pleasure shoot up and down my body as an explosive orgasm rushes over me. Before I can stop myself, I grind against Jacqueline’s tight pussy, squeezing out every last drop of cum.
Slowly, I return to reality. My pulse slows down as I regulate my breathing.
“Are you okay?” I tuck Jacqueline’s hair away from her damp forehead. “I didn’t mean to get carried away.”
“Yeah,” she says as she looks up at me with a big smile on her beautiful face.
This is not the first time I’m taken aback by the way she looks at me. It’s not just satisfaction in her big doe eyes. Deep in those pools of blue, something lurks.
It scares the shit out of me, but at the same time it sucks me in deeper and deeper. Like a sailor who’s heard the mythical siren song and succumbed, I’m probably fucked and I don’t care.
“Did it live up to your expectations?” I ask.
“No. It was better.” There’s sincerity in her voice, and again I try to tell myself that I’m being crazy.
There’s nothing sinister about Jacqueline. She’s just a beautiful girl who happens to be a virgin and, for some reason, I’m the lucky bastard she chooses to give her V-card to.
Just enjoy the tight pussy and don’t overthink.
Her muscles suddenly clench around my cock and she shudders deliciously in the aftershocks of her powerful orgasm. Still hard, I thrust into her. She moans and bites her bottom lip, then she begs me with her eyes for more.
“What is it, angel? You want me to keep fucking you?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I want you to keep fucking me.”
“Say please.”
“Please keep fucking me.”
Jesus, this girl is going to be the death of me. I’m already getting hard again from that look of pure lust on her face, and it’s been years since the last time I had the appetite for twice in a row.
If she’s going to milk me dry, I’ll die a happy man. So who cares? I’ll fuck her again and again until it’s time to go back to work again if she wants me to.
“Why do you live here, Gabriel?” Jacqueline’s laying on her side with an elbow on the bed, propping up her head with her hand.
The way her tits hang seems infinitely interesting to me. I can’t stop staring at her soft, creamy skin and her hardened pink nipples.
After hours of intense fucking, we’re finally tired enough to stop and order room service.
So, why do I live here?
“Because room service,” I say.
Jacqueline laughs, a melodic sound that pulls out childhood memories from the recesses of my mind, for some reason.
“No, I mean, your dad lives here in San Francisco, right? I hear he has a big mansion.”
“Yeah, he can be overbearing so I’d rather not live with him.”
I surprise myself with my answer.
I usually dismiss personal questions with jokes. Normally, I’d answer by saying I’ve grown tired of living in mansions and I want to slum it for a change—I’d probably get a laugh out of that, and it would give me the opportunity to change the subject.
“I know what you mean,” Jacqueline says with a sigh. “My family’s super overbearing, too.”
“Yeah. I got out of it by telling my dad I’m trying to see what it’s really going to be like, to live here again on my own.”
“Oh, you’re thinking of coming back for good?” she asks.
“Well, the whole reason I’m back here is because my dad wants me to work here where the pay and the living conditions are better.” I pause when I realize Jacqueline wouldn’t know what I’m talking about, so I add, “Eight years ago, I joined the Peace Corps and went to Africa. I ended up staying there to work for various NGOs and hospitals.”
She nods, as if she already knows about my background. I’ve always felt like Jacqueline knows a lot more about me than she lets on, but that’s probably just a paranoid thought.
I mean, anybody can find out all that stuff with a quick Google search. Lots of people Google the people they date, right?
Maybe I’m just looking for her flaws, searching for excuses to burn whatever we have to the ground.
The truth is, she makes it hard for me to leave, when it used to be a simple, clear-cut decision. And it terrifies me that I feel that way after spending such a short time with her.
I mean, what was I even thinking, luring Jacqueline into a hospital room with me so we could fuck? I was already risking my reputation for her. I can’t trust myself with these feelings.
Jacqueline asks me more questions about my family, and I tell her about my mom and dad. In turn, I ask her to tell me about her family.
Her dad’s not around, and she lives with her mom and her brother, but that’s about all she’s willing to tell me. She gets evasive when we get into details. It sounds like she’s the only one in the house who works, so she might be embarrassed about that.
The food comes, and we have a lively conversation about work and life. I feel like I can tell her anything, and I do.
I don’t usually let my guard down with my fuck buddies, but that’s not all Jacqueline is. I have a feeling I’m going to hate myself if I let her go. I’ve never felt such magic in my life.
We get closer over the next few days, and the magic only grows stronger.
We fuck a lot, and we go on real dates too. Short, intense dates limited by our long work hours and peppered with interruptions from our pagers.
The long absences only make things better when we do meet. Neither one of us sleeps much when she visits me at the hotel. (She never takes me to her place.)
Whatever time we have outside of work together, we spend fucking and talking. The days blur together as infatuation and sleep deprivation dominate my mind. I stop paying attention to the changing days.
But all that talking has barely scratched the surface. It’s like both of us are scared of probing too deep, terrified we’re going to find something that destroys the magic.
But it’s time to talk.
She needs to know what kind of a person I am.
I hurt the people who get close to me. I’ve even killed someone.
Maybe there’s darkness inside me. The same darkness that compels me to treat her like a whore in the bedroom. She needs to know I’m damaged. Dangerous.
It terrifies me that I keep pushing and pushing her boundaries. She seems to like it, but it would be wrong for her to place so much trust in me, because I don’t deserve it.
At the same time, out of my own selfishness, I don’t want to lose the control over her body that she offers up to me every time we meet.
But I need to say something now. We need to come clean.
She hid the fact that she was a virgin from me and I almost hurt her. What if our secrets implode and ruin what we have when we’re already too intertwined?
No. Now is the time for a serious conversation.
Jacqueline
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” Gabe says as he pulls me by the hand. He’s been acting different all night, all quiet and brooding. It makes him appear more mysterious, even in his casual black shirt and jeans.
I look around me. Just long hallways lit by cool fluorescent light—not too different from what I see at t
he hospital all day, but I didn't expect The Excelsior to have this kind of stark, spartan service corridors.
“How do you even know the way?”
“This is my dad’s favorite hotel in the city. I spent a lot of time in this building as a nosy kid. Segregation by class used to be a big thing back when this hotel was erected, so there's a ton of these narrow hallways for housekeepers and other service staff to use. You’ve got to love old buildings.”
He pushes a door that opens into the fire escape stairs. The light above us isn’t working, so it gets darker and darker as we climb up.
“So people just let you poke around while they were working?”
“My dad has always been a pretty important man. Underpaid hospitality staff don't want to risk causing offense to a man like him. Besides, people often don’t pay much attention to kids.”
A door creaks as it swings open, pushed by Gabe’s strong hands. The moon illuminates his magnificent form at the doorway and spills the rest of its light onto the emergency staircase. From down here, he appears powerful and almost picturesque, like a Greek God in a painting.
A cool breeze caresses my arm as I climb up to the top of the stairs, where Gabe's holding the door open for me. It feels refreshing on a warm night like this. My knee-length floral circle skirt blows in the wind.
My breath catches in my throat when I realize where he's taken me.
It’s the balcony at the top of the hotel where we first met—it wasn’t really our first meeting, but it was as far as Gabe is concerned.
Still, I’ll never forget that night. The first night Gabe looked at me with desire in his sharp, green eyes.
Just like that night, the moon hangs low in the sky, as if its fullness has made it heavier. But the hall where the award event was held is dark and quiet tonight.
It makes for a surreal atmosphere. It reminds me that not too long ago, I was overjoyed to have Gabe’s gaze on me. But tonight, that doesn’t feel like enough anymore.
I thought I’d be happy for the chance to spend any time with Gabe, but I’m greedy. I’ll admit it. I’ve experienced more amazing things than I could’ve imagined, and they’re still not enough.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough, when it comes to Gabe. It feels like no matter how much time I spend with him, I’ll still want more. I’ll still crave him when he’s gone.
And he will be gone.
There’s no way for this to end happily. Things are way too messed up for that. When It happened, I knew I had to let go of any illusion that I was ever going to be with Gabe.
Of course that wasn’t my first thought when the cops kicked Sam’s bedroom door open and I saw him lying on the floor… but the thought did occur to me at some point that same night. In my defense, Gabe was right there with me, so naturally he was on my mind.
“Do you like it?” Gabe asks.
“Huh?” With my hand still on the balustrade, I twist to look at him.
“Do you like the surprise?” Gabe wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses my shoulder over the strap of my white tank top. “You seem distracted.”
“Oh, right… Yeah. Of course. It’s beautiful. And we have it to ourselves.”
“Yeah. We have the same view of the ocean from my room, but here you can hear the waves and feel the breeze. I thought you’d like it.”
“I do. Thanks, Gabe.”
Gabe remains quiet for a couple of seconds, but then he chuckles. “Did you just call me ‘babe’?”
I forgot I’m supposed to call him “Gabriel” like everyone else at the hospital does. But it doesn’t seem like he finds it strange.
“I guess I just did,” I admit.
“I like that you’re so affectionate these days, angel.” Gabe’s arms tighten around me. He’s making it hard for me to breathe, but I don’t mind it. He could do whatever he wants to me and I’d like it.
Besides, compared to the pain in my heart, this is nothing.
He thinks I’ve been affectionate? I’ve actually been holding myself back a lot. I wasn’t worried about how this was going to mess with my mind in the beginning, but it’s all I can think about now.
I’m in too deep to get out of this unscathed. When this ends—and it will end—I’m going to have scars all over my heart. Then it will scab over, and the hard crust will make it impossible for another man to enter.
I’ve seen grieving widows at the hospital. I know the fate that’s waiting for me. Although we’ve only been seeing each other for a short while, I’ve loved him my whole life. I can’t imagine someone else taking his place. Ever.
I’m doomed to die alone. When Gabe leaves, I should adopt a few cats from the shelter and get a head start on my transformation into the neighborhood’s crazy cat lady.
Maybe Mom won’t mind helping with feeding and cleaning after the cats; she’s idle at home most days. But should I be worried about Ray doing something mean like kicking a kitten?
“You were so sexy that night, angel,” Gabe says, his fingers digging into my flesh. “You were also lovely and innocent. But also sinfully hot. You were a lot of things.”
I giggle. Those words should sound silly to me, but they make the butterflies in my stomach flutter because it’s Gabe saying them.
This is so stupid.
I’m stupid. For getting myself into this mess.
“What made you come up to talk to me that night?” he asks.
“Shouldn’t I have done that?” I deflect the question.
“Angel, that was the best thing to have happened to me in a long time. You're crazy if you think I have a problem with you having done that.” Gabe chuckles.
Boy, you don't know what I’ve gotten you into, I think to myself.
Gabe says, “You could've approached any guy and he probably would've been happy to pop your cherry for you.”
Is that what he thinks that was? That I was just looking for any guy to lose my virginity to?
“Well, you did win the award.” I hope he’ll give up and stop asking such tough questions.
Gabe laughs. “Good point. I’m also about forty years younger than the other guys.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m glad you picked me.” He grabs my chin and turns my head so I face him. “I really like you, Jacqueline.”
My heart stops.
This is all I’ve ever wanted my whole life. It’s within my reach but I can never have it.
“I like you too, Gabriel. I’ve had a lot of fun this past couple of weeks,” I say, trying to sound casual.
My lips and tongue feel stiff. It’s so hard to get the words out. But I have to do this.
This is as far as Gabe and I can go. I can’t, in good conscience, let things go any further.
A small frown appears on Gabe’s forehead, but he quickly hides it.
“It makes me happy to hear that.” He smiles, then he lets go of my waist and leans on the balustrade beside me, our arms touching. “I came here to talk to you about something.”
I tilt my head and look at him.
Gabe stares far ahead at the open ocean. Below us, a handful of people walk across the footpath along the beach, their flip-flops and feet covered with sand.
“I thought the views would help make it easier to have this conversation, but this is still pretty hard,” Gabe says without looking at me.
“What is it?”
Did he find out about who I am?
My heartbeat quickens as my brain goes through all the possible reasons for Gabe to feel like he needs to have a serious talk with me.
No, he wouldn’t be able to remain this calm if he knew.
“I love that you trust me enough to let me push your boundaries. It’s a privilege to be the one to introduce you to these things,” Gabe says. “But that also means that I have the responsibility to let you know who I really am, so you can decide for yourself if it’s a good idea to trust someone like me.”
“This sounds serious,” I say nervously. I fee
l like I know where this is going, and I don’t like it.
“It’s a matter of life and death.” Gabe huffs a wry, quiet laugh. He turns to me and stares at me with stormy green eyes. “Jacqueline, I killed someone.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” I say, a little too quickly.
Shut up! You’re not even supposed to know what’s happened.
Listening to the voice screaming in my head, I add, “I mean, I can’t imagine you doing something like that.”
“It’s true. And he was my best friend,” Gabe says.
Okay, so I guess we’re talking about it now, then. I count my breaths and slow them down so I don’t hyperventilate.
“You don’t have to say anything. You don’t even have to believe what I say. Just listen,” Gabe says.
Obviously, he thinks I’ve been stunned into silence by his shocking confession. In reality, I’ve known all along.
“I had a friend. Well, he was more like a brother. We grew up together.” He pauses and his lips form a thin smile as he looks at the waves in the distance.
“Do you miss him?” I try to stabilize my voice. It comes out a little shaky, but Gabe probably mistakes my own grief for shock over his big revelation.
“Every day. Every day, I think about how much fun I’d be having if he were around, and I hate myself for what I did.” Gabe gives me a sad smile. “He would’ve loved to meet you.”
My chest pangs with pain.
I don’t know if it’s because of grief or because I hate seeing Gabe tortured like this when I know he hasn’t done anything wrong.
It’s been eight years. And every day during those eight years, he’s blamed himself. My heart breaks at the thought.
“My friend, he… He used to be this happy, cheerful, outgoing guy. Then, he changed. Maybe he couldn’t stand the pressure of medical residency, or maybe he’d always been depressed.” Gabe lets out a big sigh.
“I don’t know,” he says. “And it kills me that I don’t know. I was supposed to be his best friend. I failed him.”
