Page 97 of Bad at Love

Storm wipes his eyes, taking in a sharp breath before slowly blowing it out. We fall into silence for a long time. Minutes. Maybe an hour. I’m not entirely sure. But I let the silence stay for a while because he needs it.

“Tell me what you need, Storm. Do you want me to go in the house with you, or do you want to go home?”

He mulls it over for a moment, blowing out a sharp breath. “Home. I can’t do this today.”

That’s all I need to hear to turn on the car and leave.

There isn’t a word spoken as we make our way to the house or inside. I put my things away before making dinner. Storm sits at the dining table, watching me like he has for weeks now. We eat dinner, still without speaking, and though it isn’t awkward, it isn’t normal. When dinner is done, he helps me clean up and then follows me upstairs. I feel him behind me when I go toward my room, so I turn. He gives me a hopeful look.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

This is a bad idea. My brain is screaming at me that this is a bad idea. The conversation this morning did not go well, and though he didn’t say it outright, I think it’s one of those situations where I should read between the lines. I think what he was trying to tell me is that the most I’m getting from him is sex. But I don’t listen to my brain, because I’m tired of the thing. All it does is worry and nitpick. It stresses me out. And thoughI know this isn’t going to end well for me, I smile at Storm. Because his approval feels good.

“Of course you can.”

He lets out a sigh of relief and walks into my room. He takes his shoes off, putting them beside mine, then gets down to his boxer briefs, making sure his clothes go in the hamper. In his room, he tosses them all over the floor. He’s in my bed before I’m halfway undressed. Once I’m in my pajamas, I climb in and slide over to him, pulling him into me. I wrap my arm around his waist, same as he usually does to me. His arm covers mine, holding onto me tightly. We stay that way until morning.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Storm

“Do you work today?” I ask, rolling to face Gabriel.

“No,” he says sleepily, eyes still closed.

I take the opportunity to stare at him. His dark hair is messy, his curls frizzy. Brows are thick and in need of a little shaping and plucking, but not the worst I’ve seen. There’s a light stubble coming in, but he’ll shave that off once he gets into the bathroom. He shaves every morning, never misses. His lips are full, pouty, and so damn soft. Nose is almost aristocratically straight, and his lashes are so long and full I bet they make all the girls jealous.

Unable to help myself, I bring my thumb to his lips, brushing it over them, back and forth until his eyes flutter open and he’s pushing my hand away.

“That tickles,” he says with a smile.

“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper.

His smile falls, eyes heating.

“Beautiful?” he asks softly.

“Yes, Gabriel. Beautiful.”

I kiss him, just a slight brush of my lips against his. I pull back and he’s still staring at me. His eyes narrow the slightest bit, and then his hand is on the back of my head, pulling me in for a deeper kiss. He ends up on top of me, rutting against me like a goddamn pro.

“Get these off,” I say, shoving at his pants. He sits back on his knees just long enough to push them down. I get my briefs off at the same time, and when he’s back on top of me, I help him kick off his pants the rest of the way.

His cock finds mine, rubbing together with each thrust. I widen my legs, giving him more space to do what he wants. His mouth is on my neck, licking and sucking at my skin, and my fingers dig into his back.

“This is new,” I rasp out, moving my hips with his.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks as hedoesn’tstop.

“Hell fucking no.”

“Good, because I don’t want to.”

We move together in a way you’d think we’d been doing this for years, rubbing against each other in the most perfect way. His thrusts get a little jerky, moans getting louder.

“Paint me with your cum, Gabriel,” I whisper to him, and a second later he’s whimpering out his release, his hot cum landing all over my stomach. He takes just a second to compose himself before he’s moving down to suck me off. “You should ride me,” I suggest.

He pauses, lifting his head to look at me.

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