Page 22 of Against the Wind

“I hate that I missed you,” she breathed against my mouth.

“I hate that I left.” My voice came out rough, raw with emotion.

Thunder cracked overhead, rattling the windows. Gabi’s hands moved to my chest, pushing me flat against the mattress. Her dark hair fell around us like a curtain as she braced herself above me.

“This doesn’t fix anything,” she warned, but her eyes told a different story—wild and wanting, reflecting the storm that raged both inside and out.

I traced my thumb across her cheekbone. “I know.”

She kissed me again, harder this time, like she was trying to punish us both. My hands found her hips, steadying her as another thunderclap shook the building. The emergency lights flickered, casting strange shadows across her face when she pulled back to look at me.

“Three months, Daniel.” Her voice cracked. “Three months of nothing.”

“I’m here now.” I brushed my lips against her jaw, felt her shiver. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and then her mouth was on mine again, stealing my breath, my thoughts, everything except the burning need to be closer.

Gabi’s fingers clawed at my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. With the same urgency, I reached for her, my hands finding the hem of her top. The fabric whispered against her skin as I peeled it off, revealing the smooth curve of her shoulders, the dip of her collarbone. She shivered, but not from cold. Outside, the storm raged, but in here, it was just us, stripped down to the barest, most honest versions of ourselves.

Her hands were at my belt, fingers working quickly. I toed off my boots, and she dragged my pants and boxer briefs down my legs, until I lay there in nothing but skin and scars and the memories of us. Gabi leaned back on her heels, her eyes roving over me, hungry and fierce. She reached behind her, unclasping her bra, letting it fall to the floor. She rose long enough to shuck her own jeans and underwear. Then she was bare, beautiful, a storm of barely contained passion I wanted to drown in.

I held out a hand for her. Those long, slim, capable fingers closed around mine and she came back down to join me on the mattress. I pulled her against me. Her breath hitched as our bodies pressed together, skin on skin, no barriers, no lies, no more miles between us. Her mouth found mine again, desperate and wild. Her hands were everywhere, tracing the lines of my muscles, the ridges of my scars. I explored her body like it was uncharted territory, relearning the curves and valleys, the places that made her gasp, the spots that made her moan.

She rolled us over, straddling me, her dark hair falling around us like a curtain. Her eyes locked onto mine, fierce and full of fire. “I haven’t forgiven you yet.”

My hands curled around her trembling thighs, where they braced above me. “I know.”

The world narrowed to nothing but Gabi as she slowly sank down, taking me inside. Her body gripped mine, so tight and slick and familiar. Home. She felt made just for me. Her eyes fluttered closed, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she began to move. I gripped her hips as she rode me, feeling the rhythm of our bodies finding each other again.

She leaned forward, her hair brushing against my chest, her breath hot on my skin. “Daniel,” she whispered, a plea and a promise all at once. I lifted my hips to meet hers, driving deeper, chasing that edge where pleasure and pain blurred.

Her nails dug into my shoulders, her pace quickening. I could hear her breath go short, her need as desperate and urgent as mine. Outside, the storm raged, thunder echoing our frantic rhythm, wind howling like a wild thing. But in here, it was just us, lost in each other, in the storm we’d created.

I groaned her name, my voice ragged. Her eyes met mine, dark and fierce, and I saw it. Raw need was written all over her face. She was close, so close. I could feel it in the tension of her muscles, the hitch of her breath, in the stumble of her rhythm as she rocked and rocked, seeking her pleasure.

I reached between us, circling her clit with my thumb, applying just the right pressure. Her body jerked, a cry tearing from her throat as she came, her inner walls clamping around me like a velvet vise, pulling me over the edge with her.

My release slammed into me like a tsunami, waves of pleasure crashing over me, leaving me gasping and spent. Gabi collapsed onto my chest, her body trembling, her breath coming in ragged pants. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as her heart thundered against mine.

We lay there, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths slowly returning to normal. The storm outside seemed to have quieted, or maybe it was just that our own storm had been louder, moreintense. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, tasting the salt of her sweat, feeling the softness of her skin.

She lifted her head, her eyes meeting mine, and I saw the same mix of emotions I was feeling. Relief, satisfaction, but also uncertainty, the knowledge that this didn’t fix everything, that there was still so much left unsaid, so much left to figure out.

But for now, it was enough. It had to be enough.

FIFTEEN

GABI

I traced lazy circles on Daniel’s chest, watching the candlelight flicker across his skin. The storm raged outside, but in here everything felt still, suspended. My body hummed with satisfaction, muscles loose and relaxed in a way they hadn’t been in months. Since he’d left me.

“You okay?” Daniel’s voice rumbled under my fingertips.

I nodded against his shoulder. The physical connection had always been easy between us—passionate, electric. That wasn’t what broke us.

“This doesn’t fix everything,” I whispered.

“I know.” His hand stroked down my back, the familiar touch sending shivers through me.

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