Page 55 of Choke Up

It's hard not to laugh at how exasperated he is. I don't disagree with him and very flatly let everyone know I would absolutely not be wearing them in public, but right now, I'm thinking I might chance trying to leave the house in them just to get under Gabe's skin.

"I'm going next weekend, actually." I feel his frown, and I'm sure it's because we always do something together, the three of us, for mine and Elliot's birthday. But we’ve made no plans, and I'm sure Elliot would rather go hang out with his jock friends anyway. I promised Ivy and the others I'd go with them, and it was as good a weekend as any. "Besides," I say, wiggling out of his grip. "Just because you don't like them doesn't mean somebody else won't."

He fucking growls. Growls!

Gabe snatches my arm, spinning me around and pinning me between him and the counter. He looms over me, looking like he wants to eat me alive. He's pissed and hard at the same time, and I shiver.

After what happened the last time he lost control, you'd think I wouldn't be into this. But I quickly lose the willpower to pretend I'm anything other than putty in his hands, dropping my head back to look up at him. He ducks his head, his mouth hovering inches from mine. So close…

"I didn't say I don't like them," he rumbles. His hooded eyes flit between my mouth and my eyes. "You missed some," he whispers, before licking my bottom lip.

I push to my toes, capturing his tongue before he can pull back, sucking it into my mouth. The sweet taste of sugar and Gabe's choked moan floods my mouth. When I release his tongue, it doesn't retreat. Gabe covers my mouth with his, and our tongues tangle wildly. I feel the kiss all the way down to my soles of my feet. A spasm of need and pleasure straightens my spine as my arms circle around the back of his neck. His hands leave the counter at my sides where he was pinning me in and dip to the backs of my thighs. He lifts me with ease, and my legs wrap around his waist.

My head is empty, aside from the rushing blood. I'm dizzy with it, lost to the suction of our mouths. We're living on the air we pass between each other, grappling for more. I'm not even aware when my hand pushes between us, only that the moment my hand comes in contact with the soft, hot skin of his shaft, he makes a sound between a groan and a bark. He pushes me away, but not before my fingertips catch a burst of wetness.

In the blink of an eye, he's several feet away from me. I'm reeling, steadying myself with a hand on the counter, unaware of just when my feet hit the ground. The front of the tiny satin shorts is gaping with the way my erection is tenting the tight fabric, a wet spot building in the front of them. It's a struggle to keep my gaze at eye level, imploring him.

Why is he fighting this so hard?

Well, fuck if I'm going to beg him.

"Look, Gabe. This has been fun, this penance game we've been playing. But it's not working out the way I thought it would."

"I'm—"

"Afraid," I finish for him. "Yeah, I get that. There are parts of it that I'm afraid of, too. One example being how one sided this has become. How weak and pathetic it makes me feel."

I hold my hand up before he can say anything else, remembering the wetness on my fingertips that's now cold and sticky.

"I'm not afraid of you, of being physically hurt by you. It was an honest mistake that I truly believe won’t happen again." I look down at my fingers, rubbing the fluid between my fingertips. "I'll be your dirty little secret. I'll hide this thing for as long as it takes for you to be sure. And if it's not what you want, then I'll back off and pretend I'm not in love with you, like I've been doing for years. But I'm not going to be someone you play with out of pity."

"I'm not. That’s not what—” he drops his voice. “I like what we're doing. I like taking care of you… making you feel good."

"And I don't hate being your pillow princess, but I don't want any of it if I can't have you equally." I let the silence stretch for a few moments, waiting for him to say something. Anything. But he doesn't. "I'd never pressure you to do something you don't want to do, just like I know you'd never make me do anything I didn't want. There are no hard feelings, or anything like that. I'll take anything you want to give me, and believe me, I want it all." To drive my point forward, I lick each of my fingers, one by one, savoring the flavor of him while maintaining eye contact. It's an intentional power move. "But please don't touch me in any way that I can't reciprocate because of misplaced guilt or fear."

Needing an out and wanting to give him space to think, I reach for a plate. "Thanks for breakfast," I say, awkwardly pressing a kiss to the side of his face as I walk past him to eat in my room.

CHAPTER 22

GABE

The bed dips, and Ellis stirs. I'm pretty sure he's fast asleep, but his body makes room for me, melting into mine as soon as I settle beside him. I guide his head to my chest and wrap one arm around him to hold him close. My free hand brushes his dark hair away from his face. I bury my nose in his nape and inhale, taking in his warm, musky scent.

We were supposed to have the whole day together, but I ruined it. Just like always. He spent most of the day out with his friends, and for a while I sat on the couch in a jealous funk. I'd wanted to pull him back inside, to hold him against me and feel his lips on more than just my cheek. But I let him walk out, obsessively grumping over how many people were going to look at him today. He looked edible in the same crop top he teased me with this morning, and low-slung baggy jeans that showed off the hem of the satin shorts. I wanted to hold him down and cover every inch of his exposed skin in hickeys and bite marks, including every little patch of pale skin that peeked through the rips in his denim.

He was right about needing space. I can't think when he's around. Alone with my thoughts, I realized that while I'm trying to do the right thing, I'm going about it the wrong way. I can't just give him half of me.

It took a couple of hours of being pissy to work through it. I couldn't figure out what the problem was. Why would anyone be upset about being on the receiving end of regular orgasms and not have to reciprocate?

But the dynamic is so different from anything I've known before. I've never been in a situationship where I wanted to give to my partner very often, where their pleasure meant more to me than my own. Maybe it's a dick thing. I didn't hate eating pussy, but I didn't love it. It wasn't my favorite. It was a means to get something in return. I gave to get. And I honestly can't remember ever being with someone who was genuinely excited to suck my cock. I always assumed it just wasn't something that anyone enjoys except the person on the receiving end.

But I love going down on Ellis, touching him, tasting him, swallowing him, and making part of him become part of me. The mental picture I get of his cum dissolving into my bloodstream makes me feel like I have superpowers. I'm actually happy giving without getting anything in return aside from than the satisfaction of knowing I made him feel good. Getting him off gets me off. That's not to say that I didn't enjoy his touch, or how his eager mouth enveloped my cock. He's the best I ever had, even though neither of us knows what the hell we're doing. But that's also half the problem—I don't know how to do it right without hurting him. An ass isn't a pussy. You can't skip foreplay. Although now that I think about it, maybe I was just a lousy lay. Maybe they were all faking.

Ellis can't fake it, though. He's a shit liar. But a guy can't exactly fake an orgasm the same way a girl can. And he's had plenty of those at my hands and mouth. I just don't think it's enough to make up for what I did. I'll never make up for it.

But I'm selfish. I want Ellis. I can't focus on anything else but how much I want him in every way. It was bad enough before I ever touched him. The curiosity burned like ants under my skin. But the closer I've gotten to him, the more I've let him burrow in. He's fully in my blood now, and I can't stay away.

Elliot will be back tomorrow morning, and I'm not sure what to do about that. I don't like lying to my best friend. He's truly my brother, and I'm terrified this will break us.

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