by JB Salsbury
If there’s one thing I’m proud of, it’s that I’m not a typical guy. And yet, in this moment, buried completely inside Gabriella, all I can think is I’m home.
Yeah, such typical dude shit. But I’ve never felt so grounded, connected to another person in all my life. Not my parents, friends, not even my brothers. With Gabriella, I can be myself. I can say the wrong thing, trip, choke, and bring all my weaknesses without judgment. I don’t have to hide behind the smoke and mirrors of a pretty face and charming personality. For the first time in my life, I don’t have to put on a show. I can just be me.
“Hang on,” I say against her lips. “Things are about to get rough.”
She locks her ankles at my back and kisses me hard.
We move together with all the grace of a hurricane—lips, teeth, and tangled limbs. I lay her on the floor, knowing she deserves better than to get fucked into the carpet, but moving to the bed is a mountain I can’t climb.
I slam my hips forward, and she moans into my mouth. Again and again, I sink deeper and deeper inside her. Her body tenses and tightens around me. I change the angle, hit a spot that makes her catch her breath, and then tip her over the edge.
Knowing we’re the only ones in the building, I don’t muffle the sound when she cries out her release. The sound bounces off the walls and goes straight to my gut, where my own orgasm lies coiled tight, on the verge of bursting.
I lick her lips, suck her tongue into my mouth, and thrust one last time. Stars burst behind my eyes in technicolor as my release rips through me. My muscles tense to the point of pain as waves of ecstasy wash over me. My erection kicks hard inside her, and she tilts her hips before taking a ragged breath that ends on a sexy-as-fuck, “Oh, my God.”
I kiss up her throat to her mouth, her cheeks, and the tip of her nose. “You good?”
She giggles—yeah, fucking giggles—by way of answer. My chest swells with the pride of a million men before me who satisfied their women to the point of giggles. Fuck yes. I want to do that again.
I roll off of her but slip my hand under her shoulders and pull her to my side. We’re both breathing heavily as we stare at the ceiling from our spot on the bedroom floor. I run my fingertips along her back, feel every sweet indention of her spine and the two bee stings just above her ass.
She sighs in a way that makes me feel like she’d be just as happy as I am to spend the rest of our lives on the floor with her in my arms. “The weather cleared up.”
“I don’t think it did.”
She puts her chin to my chest and looks down at me. “Listen.”
She’s right. It’s not raining.
I give her ass a squeeze. “Up.”
She makes a grumpy noise when I stand and pull her up with me. I file that sound away as one of my favorites of hers. I put her into bed and crawl in behind her.
Facing the window, she smiles. “It’s snowing.”
“You see what we did?” I press a kiss to her temple and wrap my arm around her waist. “We fucked so hard we changed the weather.”
Her low, gritty chuckle shoots straight to my dick, and I tell myself it’s too soon for round two, but my libido says otherwise.
“I don’t think the snow has anything to do with us banging.”
I snort. “Banging? I like it.”
She wiggles her ass against my hard-on. “I can tell.”
“Shhh, don’t flirt with her. She needs her rest in order to make love to you properly.”
“Your dick is a she?”
“Hey, your heart is a he.” I shrug. “And my dick is smart, has high standards, and always gets her way. Definitely a she.”
“You’re nothing like any man I have ever known.”
“I know, right?” I kiss her temple. “Lucky you.”
She yawns hard. “I love the snow.”
“Do you? Tell me what else you love.”
“Hmm…”
“Go on, don’t hold back.” I bite her shoulder and make her yelp.
“Warm socks. A good English tea. RayBans. Hoodies. Oh, and I love any dessert that includes fruit.”
“Huh, and that’s it?”
“Yep—hey!” She laughs as I playfully tickle her ribs.
“Are you sure there’s nothing else? Not one other thing that you love?”
Her laughter grows, and she wiggles and bucks against me, which is doing amazing things for my dick and my imagination. “Okay, okay… there’s one more!”
I stop tickling her and wait. “I’m listening.”
“Meatball subs from—” She laughs as my fingers dig into her ribs.
She turns toward me, and all that laughing stops when our eyes meet. We crash together—lips, hips, and legs intertwined.
Before I slip inside her again, she holds my face in her palms and says, “You, Kingston. Of all that I love, you are who I love most.”
I make love to Gabriella slowly, deliberately, and without a single care to where I need to be in the morning—or next week for that matter.
Where my world was once wrapped up in success, money, or living up to my family name, it now is condensed into one beating heart inside this woman.
She is my world now.
And I plan to make her mine forever.
Gabriella
Kingston and I finally got to sleep just as the sun was coming up. We’d worked up an appetite in bed and ended up making oatmeal at three o’clock in the morning. Wrapped in a blanket, we watched the snow fall and made love one more time before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
I planned on unpacking my apartment all weekend, so I don’t have anywhere to go, but when I hear Kingston’s phone ringing in the other room, I wonder if he’s late for something.
I wake him by dropping kisses all over his face. Before he opens his eyes, he smiles.
“Hey, your phone is ringing.”
He pulls me down on top of him. “Don’t care. Sleep.”
With my cheek pressed to his chest and the steady rhythm of his heart in my ear, I could easily fall back to sleep, but I hate the idea that I could be the reason he misses something important with work.
“Shouldn’t you at least check to see who’s trying to get ahold of you?”
He frowns, like the very idea of working is an insult to his ears.
The phone rings again. He groans.
“I’ll grab it for you.” I slip from the bed and dodge moving boxes in the hallway and living room where he left his phone.
Hurdling over a box on my way back, I toss his phone on the bed just before the thing quits ringing.
He checks the missed calls and sets it on the bedside table. “Come back to bed, Bee.”
“Was it important? Do you need to go?”
He cracks one eyelid. “Are you trying to kick me out of my own bed?” In a quick move that I wouldn’t think possible for someone who isn’t fully awake, he snags my arm and pulls me on top of him. “I have an idea.”
I prop my elbow on his chest and my chin in my hand. “I like ideas.”
“How about we make my bed our bed.”
“You’re… asking me to move in with you?”
“Not exactly. This place is stupid small.”
“I knew it! You didn’t want to move here. You did it for me!”
His expression becomes serious and more awake. “I’d live in a shoebox for you. No question.”
I grin and kiss him softly. “That’s sweet.”
“Anyway, I was thinking I could move back into the big apartment with you.”
“You want to move in together? I just moved out of my parents’ house yesterday. I was kind of hoping for a little more time on my own before I settle down.”
He frowns. “I guess that makes sense.”
“But…”
He kisses me. “No buts. I think that’s smart. So, I’ll stay here until you’re ready, and then we’ll move into the bigger apartment.”
“And do what with this place? Rent it?”
He chuc
kles. “Fuck no. We’ll knock down the wall and turn this apartment into an add-on.”
“Oh, like an office?”
“I was thinking more like a closet.”
“Of course you were.”
His phone rings again, and he reaches over and answers with an angry, “What.”
The person on the other end is male, but that’s all I can tell from what little mumbling I can hear.
“Yes, I’ll be down in a bit.” He hits end and tosses his phone on the table. “You’re right. I have to go.”
“I told you! Tell whoever’s been waiting for you that it’s not my fault.”
“So I can’t tell him you had me tied up and used me as your sexual servant until I lost consciousness?”
“Dammit, now you know what the plan for tonight was going to be. Guess I’ll have to come up with something else—”
“Oh, no, you will not.” He gets out of bed. He stretches and groans as if his muscles ache and are putting up a preliminary protest after last night’s sexcrobatics. “I’ll make sure to cut out of work early to give us more time.” He winks at me before heading to the shower.
“I hope you like fuzzy handcuffs!”
“The fuzzier then better!”
I thought my accident tore the possibility of a great life away from me.
But with Kingston, I’m starting to believe in the possibility that this life, the one after, could be even better.
Thirty-Three
Kingston
“The trucks are scheduled to arrive at seven o’clock, so I plan to be there double-fisting espressos at six.” Angelica peers at me from over the iPad. “Any questions, boss?”
I take one last look at the completed vision board for the North Industries lobby. Angelica and Todd are great about getting things ordered and putting numbers and measurements into a computer. I leave those things to them and work best with visuals. And I’m really liking the plan we have laid out for tomorrow. Everything must be perfect. Having sunk all my free time into this project, I’m ready to finish it and put it behind me. “No questions. I think we’re ready.”
“Is Gabby bringing us dinner tonight?” Todd says with a glint of excitement in his eyes. “Those meatball subs are the bomb.”
“Not tonight.” I check my phone to see if she has texted. We usually stay in touch all day. She texts on her break at the hospital and on her way to ballet, and I text her every time I look up from whatever I’m working on, every chance I get. “Let’s cut out early. Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
It’s just before five when I lock up shop and head upstairs. Gabriella should be home from ballet by now. I might even be lucky enough to catch her before her shower. I like to offer my help with the hard-to-reach areas.
The prospect of Bee all sudsy and wet has me taking two stairs at a time. Her door is unlocked, so I knock once and walk inside. I’m already working on the buttons of my shirt. “I hope you’re dirty, Bee! Because I plan to make you dirtier before I lick you cle—” I slam to a halt when I pass by the kitchen.
Gabriella is in her dance clothes, her hair pulled back and damp with sweat, her eyes wide in horror. Standing next to her in a three-piece suit—which, judging by the cut, is definitely Italian—is her dad.
I’ll never forget his cold, hateful stare.
The same one currently aimed directly at me.
“Mr. Penn-Sterling…” I swallow hard. “What are you doing here?”
Her dad’s eyes narrow on the exposed section of my chest, and his lip curls in disgust when his eyes come back to mine. “You sure about this guy?” He’s clearly talking to his daughter, but his glare stays on me.
Gabriella sighs. “Yes, dad.” She walks to me and mouths your shirt before taking my side.
I work my fingers up each button, closing my shirt up to my throat. “You told him.”
She shrugs. “Of course.”
“Can’t say I approve,” her dad growls.
“Can’t say I care,” she says in her light voice that I love. “You want me to be happy, and Kingston makes me happy.”
By the softening of her dad’s expression, I can see that voice has a similar effect on him. That expression hardens again when she slips her arm around my lower back and tucks into me.
She’s so fucking brave. It takes a steel spine to stand up to men like our fathers.
“I guess now is as good a time as any to also let you know,” she gazes up at me adoringly, “I’m in love with him.”
Her dad blinks as if this is new information to him. Or maybe it’s not new, but he’s only now attempting to believe it.
His jaw saws back and forth as if he’s working on a pros and cons list that probably involves my death and disappearance.
“You wanted me to heal. To get back to living.” She looks up at me with a smile that shoots straight to my chest. If we were alone, that grin would get her fucked hard where she’s standing. She smirks as if she senses the direction of my thoughts.
“All I want is for you to live the best possible life you can.” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his suit pants and stares at the floor. “You deserve no less.”
“I can say with all my heart, Dad, I am now.” She squeezes me to her as if punctuating her statement.
“For what it’s worth,” I say, “you told me to stay away from her that night at the hospital, and I really tried. But I fell in love with your daughter, and I couldn’t stay away forever.”
“Okay, okay,” her dad says and waves her off. “That’s enough. I get it.”
Gabriella rolls her eyes, but smiles.
“Why don’t you two get changed, and I’ll buy you both dinner.”
“You don’t need to—”
His gaze snaps to mine. “You want my blessing to date my daughter?”
“I… guess?” Truth is, I’d date her with or without his permission. But I suppose his blessing means more to Gabriella than I could understand.
“Great. Get dressed, and let’s go.”
“I don’t need to change. But I’ll wait for Ga—”
“Yes, you do.” He grimaces. “That shirt is covered in tiny flying dicks,” he says and checks his watch. “You have ten minutes.”
“Hey,” Gabriella says, smiling. “I love that shirt. Wear it.”
Little rebel. “If you say so.”
“I’m not going to be seen in public with him wearing a dick shirt,” he grumbles. “Ten minutes!” he says before closing the door behind him.
“Holy shit,” I breathe.
I’m still trying to regulate my heartbeat. I knew I’d have to face her dad again eventually. I didn’t think it would be so soon. “Why didn’t you warn me he was up here—whoa, what are you doing?”
She already has her leggings off, and she’s tugging at her shirt and sports bra. “Changing.”
“In the kitchen?” I readjust my quickly swelling dick. Hey, it’s not my fault. My woman in a g-string and nothing else is a temptation beyond resisting.
She bends over to pick up her clothes.
I groan at the visual.
She straightens and smirks. “We have ten minutes.”
“I’ll make you come in two.”
Her eyes flare. “Wanna bet?”
I cross to her in one long stride and have her back pressed against the refrigerator. I slip one hand into her ponytail and the other down the front of her panties. “Fuck.” I rest my forehead against hers. “You’re already soaked.”
Her breath hitches when I slide my fingers inside. “My body was primed for a shower together.”
I bite her bottom lip and pull before releasing it with a growl. “I change my bet. One minute.”
She moans and rocks her hips against my hand.
“You’re mine, Bee. You know that, right?” I coax a long groan from her throat. “You’re so beautiful.” I run my lips along her scars, drop kisses against the tight skin, and thank God that she’s here, that she’s al
ive. That she’s mine. “You make my world a prettier place.”
She hitches her leg over my hip, putting her dripping heat so close.
“Fuck it.” In seconds flat, I release my hard-on, tug her panties to the side, and plunge so deep both her feet come off the ground. She wraps her legs around me. I throw my hips forward with a desperate need to crawl inside her. Her body tenses. Her lips part on a sigh. I take the opening and kiss her. Her taste floods my system and fuels my desire. Harder. Deeper. I suck her lip and nip with my teeth. She tenses, her body giving all the signals that she’s close. Her orgasm tears through her and triggers my own.
My head spins, and my legs shake, but I don’t stop moving, milking, drawing out the pleasure of our mutual release. There is no earthly comparison to what I feel when I’m making love to Gabriella. Soft and slow, hard and fast, long and dirty, no matter how we do it, where we do it, I’m always overwhelmed with the love I have for this extraordinary, complex woman.
Spent, sated, and totally fucking stunned, I pull back and look down at her soft smile.
“Three minutes,” she says, her voice husky in a way that has me hardening again while still inside her. “I win.”
“Does that mean I’m your sexual servant for a day?” I kiss her forehead and carefully lower her feet to the ground.
“A day?”
I bite my lip when I pull out of her, really fucking annoyed that we can’t take this into the bedroom and pick up where we left off.
“I thought you’d be my sexual servant for life?” She winks over her shoulder and sways her sexy ass into the bedroom to get changed.
I don’t follow her in there because if I do, we’ll never make it out to meet her dad. “I think that means I won the bet then!”
The bet, the lottery, the favor of the universe—with Gabriella, I won at life.
Epilogue
Gabriella
I expected the North Industries company Christmas party to be an extravagant event. August North jumps at every opportunity to flaunt his financial success and fluff his ego. But knowing all this still didn’t prepare me for the complete transformation of Manhattan’s Gotham Hall. The building was built in 1924 and inspired by ancient Roman architecture, but tonight, it’s been transformed into a whimsical winter wonderland—from the hundreds of flocked trees to the lighted illusion of falling snow and the fog that gently rolls around the floor. Every square inch of the multi-room space is a nod to the childhood dream of Narnia.
