The Only One: A One Love Novella

by Lauren Blakely

  “You two are too sweet for me,” Greta says. “I better go before all this swooning makes me go soft.”

  Then she winks and leaves, and I’m glad I chose not to be angry when I walked in. I chose to trust Gabriel before I knew Greta was so lovely.

  But I don’t want to think about other women any longer. I want to talk about me. I jut up a shoulder and meet his gaze. “So, I’m the one who got away?”

  He answers me by slamming his mouth to mine, then whispering yes when we come up for air.

  Somehow, we manage to finish our Picnic-in-the-Park planning, and the rest of the afternoon I daydream about blackberry cobbler and tonight and him.

  I call Delaney and ask her to watch Shortcake this evening. I have a feeling I won’t be coming home.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gabriel

  “I made you—”

  I blink when I open the door and take in the sight of Penny. A black sleeveless tank with the thinnest straps I’ve ever seen hangs seductively on her. It shows off the art on her body. Flowers and vines travel across her flesh in dark pinks and deep purples. Her hair is pinned on one side again, and it’s something of her signature look…with me, at least.

  Tight jeans and black heels complete the outfit, and as I drink in the woman on my doorstep, my arousal kicks into top gear.

  “Paella,” I scratch out, finally finishing the sentence. “I made you paella.”

  She thrusts a bottle of Albariño at me and shakes her head.

  I furrow my brow as I take the white wine. “I thought it was your favorite? You loved it in Spain.”

  “I do love it,” she says, tiptoeing her fingers up my chest. “But I can wait to eat.”

  “And that means you can’t wait for something else?”

  One fist darts out, grabbing my black shirt. “No,” she says in a hiss. “You’ve tortured me long enough. End it now, Gabriel. Please put me out of my misery.”

  Taking the wine, I put it in the fridge then turn off the stove. The pots can simmer. The dishes can keep. The wine glasses will have to wait to be filled.

  “I hate the thought of you being miserable, my love.” I take her hand and draw her close to me. Her body seals to mine, and in no time we’re smashed together, two lovers tangled into one. We’re limbs, clothes, skin, and a desperate need to be close, and then closer still.

  This woman.

  My God.

  My brain fills with static. My head is hazy. I’m in the fucking clouds with her.

  In some ways, I want to understand why I feel like this with Penny, and yet I don’t ever want to know how we pull off this trick. Because it’s magic, the way we are together. And if there’s any secret to how we fit, maybe it’s as simple as chemistry plus desire, as lust plus passion equaling two people who couldn’t be more perfect for each other.

  She’s made for me, I’m certain. Penny is it for me. She’s the beginning and the end, and what started with a spark has become a fire that will never burn out in my heart, mind, or body.

  We break the kiss, and my breath comes in a harsh pant. “Come with me,” I say, taking her hand and leading her to my bedroom.

  When we reach it, I back up to the bed, sit on the edge of the navy blue comforter, and bring her between my legs. She stands. Setting my hands on her hips, I push up her shirt and press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her navel. She trembles, and the taste of her skin intoxicates me.

  I inhale deeply, wanting, needing, craving her scent in my nostrils, bathing my brain in the bliss that is her.

  When I look up, she’s shivering. I rise and cup her cheeks. “I need you to know something.”

  “What is it?”

  My eyes never waver from hers. “There are a million ways I want to fuck you,” I tell her, and her lips part. “I want to bend you over the bed, I want to put you on all fours, and I want to slam you against the wall and hook your legs around my waist.”

  “Oh God,” she murmurs.

  “I want to fuck you on a balcony with the New York skyline behind us. On the kitchen counter as your favorite band plays. I want to bring you down hard on my cock in the backseat of a limo as I fuck you on the way to a black-tie affair, with your lace thong pulled to the side and a gorgeous dress covering the rest of you.”

  Her eyes blaze with lust, and her breathing intensifies.

  “And sometimes I’ll want to grab your hair, gather it in my fist, and pull it hard. I’ll say harsh, filthy words in your ear that make you wet and hot,” I growl, and she runs her tongue over her teeth. “Every now and then, or maybe more, I’ll want to smack that lush ass till it’s red, then kiss it until it doesn’t smart any longer. I want to pin your wrists over your head and fuck you hard and deep, and then even deeper till you beg me to let you come.” The look on her face turns hazy, like she’s coated in a fine dusting of lust. “But right now…” My voice turns softer as I trail off.

  “Yes?” she asks, as if she can’t bear to be left hanging, and it shows in her breasts—they’re heaving, and it’s fucking incredible. It’s as if we exist in a cocoon of heat and color and shimmer. I have never wanted a woman the way I want her—deep in my bones.

  I run my thumb across her jaw, and she leans into my touch. “Right now, I’m going to make love to you.”

  “Oh God,” she says, her pitch rising. “Please. Now. I can’t take it anymore. I want you so much.”

  She spears her fingers through my hair and crushes her lips to my mouth. Her tongue sweeps across mine and she moans. I swallow the sound—I swallow all her hungry noises as I undo her zipper, then peel her jeans down her hips.

  We break the kiss so I can get these damn clothes off her. Her shirt flies to the ground in a flurry of clothes—hers, mine, both—pooling on the dark hardwood floor.

  As I gaze on her naked figure, I am in awe.

  It’s not because her body is beautiful, though it is.

  It’s not because the curve of her hips, and the shape of her breasts, and the softness of her skin send my temperature to incendiary levels.

  Though they do.

  No. This astonishment is something that’s harder to label, tougher to pin down. It’s in the air; it’s in the electricity. It’s in the energy that draws her to me.

  It’s her.

  It’s just fucking her.

  “Come,” I say, scooping her up and setting her on the bed so her dark hair fans across the crisp white pillowcase. “Tonight I’m going to worship you. I’m going to adore you.”

  “You already do.” She trembles as she lies naked in front of me. I’m floored, utterly floored that she’s back in my life, and I want to give her everything.

  I also happen to know exactly how she likes one little wonderful thing in particular.

  And though she parts her legs for me, inviting me to pay a much-needed visit to that pretty pink pussy with my mouth, I wiggle an eyebrow and shake my head.

  “Please stop torturing me. You know I love your mouth. I want you now.”

  “I know, my Penny. I know you want me,” I say, my eyes cast down to those lovely plump lips, so fantastically wet they glisten. I climb over her, grab one hip, and flip her to her belly.

  She gasps my name, in a long, lingering moan. “Gabriel.”

  As I grab a pillow and slide it under her stomach, I ease my body against her, my front to her back. “Did you think I’d forget what drives you wild?”

  “Oh God,” she says, her breath coming fast. Then I move down her body, and she’s wriggling and arching up her hips, and Jesus Fucking Christ, she’s inviting me to the promised land between her legs.

  “Such a greedy woman.” I spread my palms over the backs of her thighs, opening her more. She’s so wet and slick, and I’m dying to taste her.

  Raising her ass up higher, I bring my face to her beautiful pussy and I moan as I flick my tongue across her arousal.

  “Oh my God,” she calls out, arching up instantly.

  Her taste floods my tongue. Her
scent fills my nostrils, and all the blood in my body diverts to my cock. I’m so fucking hard as I lick her, as I taste her, as I lap up all this ridiculously wonderful wetness.

  And Penny, she’s a live wire. She’s a writhing, hot, beautiful wave in my bed. My eyes drift to her hands. Fisted tightly, they clutch at my sheets, grasping. I glance down her legs, and her toes are curled, digging into my bed.

  And here, right here in my mouth, she’s the way I want her.

  So fucking wet.

  So fucking hot.

  So fucking turned on.

  She rocks her hips and her ass back into me, practically thrashing on the bed. My hands are wrapped around her thighs, and my tongue flicks over the delicious rise of her clit.

  Her cries transform. Louder. Longer. Higher. A collection of I’m so close, and yes, and then just oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.

  I devour her, kissing her lovely pussy until she shatters.

  She unleashes the most glorious sound from her throat—a strangled and beautiful cry of rapture that might be my name, or God’s name, or just an incoherent string of syllables to punctuate her pleasure as she detonates.

  * * * *

  Penny

  At some point—maybe in a week, maybe a year—this orgasm might recede.

  Might.

  For now, I’m drunk. I’m high. I’m under the influence of some kind of euphoria.

  This man.

  This night.

  Us.

  As I blink open my eyes, he’s flipped me back over again, and I can’t think of anything but this exquisite ache between my legs, which was sated but has returned instantly. I need more of him. All of him.

  He kneels over me, his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking.

  God, he’s gorgeous—his long hair, his ink-covered arms, his lean, toned abs. And his cock. I don’t think I could even say that word in my head when I was twenty-one. All I knew then was I wanted it inside me. Now, I can’t stop staring at his cock—long, thick, curved.

  My mouth goes dry. I want him so much.

  My skin is burning. This is a fever, and I don’t want to bring my temperature down.

  I want to take him into me. I want to be filled by him. Only him. Always him. It’s only ever been him.

  I reach for his shoulders, pulling him closer. I’m not sure I can speak again. When he rubs the head of his cock through all that wetness between my legs, my brain shuts down. I simply combust. It’s as if I’m having an out-of-body experience within my body. It’s as if I’ve become one with the physical, and everything in me is connected to him.

  Somehow, the wires in my brain reattach enough for me to say what’s in my heart. “Please. I need you. Please get inside me.”

  He slides his cock across me, teasing me more, driving me absolutely out of my mind. My hips arch off the bed, my nails dig into his flesh, and my chest heats to dangerous levels. Every molecule in my body is white-hot.

  “Penny.” His voice has never been huskier with me, never been rougher.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you on the pill?”

  I nod quickly. “Yes, God yes. Are you safe?”

  “I am.”

  And that’s all. He sinks into me, and I cry out.

  I do. I just fucking do.

  He fills me completely—so far and deep, and so fucking perfect. Lowering to his elbows, his chest to mine, his eyes on me, he’s as close as he can be as he thrusts. As he strokes. As he rocks into me.

  He groans my name as his cock stretches me, and the tip hits me so intensely that I scream out.

  Not in pain, but in pleasure. Oh God, in so much pleasure I don’t know how I can keep it all inside me. I feel as if I’m going to burst with ecstasy, that all of this intensity will spill over, and yet I crave more.

  I have more than enough bliss. I have more than I need, but I’m greedy and I want it all with him.

  His hands rope into my hair, and he fucks and he fucks and he fucks, his hips driving powerfully into me.

  “God, it’s good. It’s so fucking good. It’s you,” he rasps.

  “Yes. Yes. Yes.” It’s all I can say. Because it’s all I can feel. The answer to everything is yes.

  I hook my legs tighter around his ass, my fingers curling through his hair, and I do everything to draw him in closer. Deeper.

  Existence around us fades, burning away into nothingness, to pure darkness. Because all the starlight in my world is here with him. With this man I fell for ten years ago. Now, I’m not just falling.

  I’m there.

  I’m in love.

  And it isn’t just any kind. It’s the big kind. The crazy kind. The type of love that latches on to you and won’t let go. I bring my mouth to his ear, ready to tell him, ready to share my whole heart, but then he pushes so deep into me that I see stars. I see the light of distant planets. I see entire universes. It’s that good. It’s that intense.

  I unravel in the most mind-bending, breathtaking, toe-curling kind of climax. It unfurls. It spreads, and the aftershocks roll through me as he chases me there, coming and not stopping. Just like me, just like him, just like us.

  He’s loud. Hot, and rough, and sexy.

  I barely know what he’s saying, because he’s speaking another language, but it’s carnal and dirty and so fucking beautiful.

  The next words, though, I understand them perfectly.

  He collapses onto my chest. “Je t’aime,” he breathes into my neck.

  And I soar. “I love you, Gabriel. I fell in love with you then. I’m in love with you now.”

  “The same, my love. It’s completely the same for me.”

  * * * *

  Gabriel

  We eat.

  We drink.

  We devour dessert and each other.

  Not necessarily in that order. Or any order. The whole night is one big fiesta of consumption—of food and wine and treats and her.

  And after the third time, or perhaps the fourth, we’re sweaty and slick, and her breasts are red, and she looks perfectly manhandled by me. A shower sounds nice, but when I wrap my arm around her, she yawns, and I decide that the morning is for washing up.

  “Sleep with me,” I whisper into her hair.

  “Mmm,” she murmurs. “I think I’m nearly there.”

  I kiss her shoulder lightly, dusting my lips across her flowers, and she runs her fingertips over the map on my arm as we drift off.

  Before sleep covers us, though, I press one more kiss to her forehead. “Have I told you how happy I am that my restaurant was on your list for your event? If it wasn’t, I don’t know how we’d be here like this.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Do you know what I regret most about losing your email back then?”

  She raises her face, her eyes less sleepy now. “No. Tell me.”

  “That I didn’t get to tell you I was falling in love with you. So you’ll have to forgive me if I can’t stop saying it now.”

  The way she looks at me, her smile, her eyes, it’s as if every moment in my life has led to this. “Say it.”

  I cup her cheeks in my hands. “I love you.”

  “Again,” she demands playfully.

  “I’m madly in love with you.”

  “Once more.”

  “I love you more than I knew was possible,” I say, then I spoon against her and brush kisses along the back of her neck. “Sometimes it feels like the last ten years happened, but didn’t happen. Like we went from then to now.”

  She laughs. “I wish.”

  “Or maybe it just feels like you’ve always been mine. That even though I didn’t see you for a decade, you were mine.” It’s the caveman in me talking. But it’s the man, too.

  “I was yours,” she says. “I am yours. And you’re mine.”

  The past doesn’t matter anymore.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gabriel

  Some kind of wiry terrier dog laps up water greedily from a bowl, while a rust-colored canine sniff
s the grass. When the red dog finds something that, presumably, is tasty to her doggy senses, she opens her mouth to lunge for it.

  “Ruby, no!”

  From my spot by the tables, where my cooks and servers are ably handling the catering, I wave to Penny’s friend Nicole.

  Penny introduced me to Delaney and Nicole earlier this week. She wanted me to meet her friends, and we went out for drinks at Speakeasy in Midtown, savoring Purple Snow Globe cocktails. That turned into dinner, which unspooled into the women insisting I find the best ice cream in all of Manhattan for them.

  I didn’t mind. Penny’s friends are wonderful, and they clearly love her fiercely. I took them to a small-batch shop in Murray Hill with bizarre flavor combinations like blueberry goat cheese, avocado graham cracker, and fire-roasted strawberry. The latter was Penny’s favorite.

  She liked it, too, when we said good-bye to her friends and returned to her home, where we discovered how very much she likes having her wrists tied to the headboard with a silk scarf.

  Shortcake didn’t, though.

  Her little dog barked when she found her mistress trussed up. Good little dog, however, as soon as Penny told her to lie down in her dog bed, the tiny creature listened and I had my wicked way with Penny.

  Over and over and over.

  Every night with her has been both a discovery and a rediscovery. When we collided in Spain, we were a meteor shower. The clock had ticked relentlessly then, and we were urgent, first-time lovers. Now, we’re the night sky, together at the end of each day, and there’s just as much urgency but also a deeper curiosity to try and test. The first time around, she was young and innocent but she was ready.

  And last night, she said to me, “I want you to take my body. I want to explore everything with you.”

  Yeah.

  I didn’t need to be asked twice. It’s like winning the lottery—finding this wonderful woman who wants me the same way I do her, then finding her again. Being her first. Being the one she wants now.