Page 50 of Devious Eyes
Chapter Seventeen
Every touch from Nate is like a spark, ready to light and set off a detonation around me. It’s consuming.
I feel all of his anger, all of his hurt and pain in the way he holds me hostage against the wall, how he keeps his lips from me, trying to make this an impersonal fuck instead of a reunion of lovers. He may think it’s working for him, but it’s not for me. I can still feel everything we did back on Bora. He’s punishing me with his body, but it touches my soul as something much stronger.
“More,” I moan out, grabbing onto his hair and relaxing my body to his will.
His hips dig deeper into my flesh, and every jolt drives me higher and higher. “Yes, more.” The pitch of my voice betrays how close I am to falling into oblivion. Every muscle in my body is strung taut, just waiting for the last touch to send me reeling. It’s exquisite, just as it always is with him.
My stomach quivers and I pull Nate up to reach his mouth. I want to kiss him. No, I need to kiss him. I need to feel he’s as connected to this as I am.
He doesn’t let me have his lips, but he does bite my neck, sending a pulse of lust through me as his cock hits me in just the right spot, triggering my climax.
“Yes, yes…God, Nate.” I pant and hang on for dear life, knowing he’ll catch me as I fall.
For this moment, nothing else matters between us. We don’t care. I don’t want to think about the chasm of problems waiting to challenge us. Right now, we’re back in our bubble. Just us.
As my body comes around from the blistering sex, Nate loosens his grip and lets me slip to the floor. My legs shake like jelly as I bear weight on them and wish I could collapse onto the bed. He turns away from me, leaving me like he would if he were paying me. Like one of the sluts who were in here with him before me.
The room is set up like a private suite—a large space with sofas and sectionals for entertaining, a bar, large television screen, and of course, a huge bed at the other end of the room. This room is designed for one thing and one thing only.
As strength returns to my limbs, I push the dress from my shoulders and let it tumble from my body. My feet pad across to the bathroom where I jump in the shower, dousing myself under the hot water.
Being in this room with Nate makes me feel cheap. Like he’s got what he came for. But that isn’t me. That isn’t us, and I need to look past the surroundings. We’ve found our way back to each other, and I’m going to hold onto that, regardless of how stupid this situation is, or how much pain may come from it.
A robe hangs in the bathroom, and I cover myself in it before exiting to face the conversation I need to have with him. He’s sitting on one of the sofas, a glass of amber liquid in his hand.
“We need to talk.”
“Yeah? Like fuck we do.” He downs the rest of the glass and turns to me. “I don’t want to know why you lied, or why the hell you’re here with Marco.”
“Please stop drinking. It will be easier if you’re not wasted.”
“On who? You?” He snorts. “Sneaking out when I’m unconscious from drink is easier, Gabriella. I thought you’d want me wasted.”
“If you’d stop being a baby for five minutes and talk to me, you’d find out why I had to leave.”
“Gabriella Alves. Is that name meant to mean anything? Are you famous or something?”
“No. I’m very inconspicuous.” I walk further towards him and take the bottle of scotch off the table, pouring it down the small sink at the bar.
“What the fuck?”
“Just sit and listen. That’s all I ask.”
He stares, anger still filling his features, but does do as I’ve asked.
I stay standing and run through some of the words I need to string together to explain all of this, because now we’re alone I can be the Gabby I was in Bora again. The same girl who lives under the layers of armour and protection I’ve built over the years. He might feel like he didn’t know who I was when we were together, but it’s the exact opposite. No one else knows who I am because I hide away behind what I do. I’ve let that dictate and define the person I am all my working life, but if I don’t have to play that game anymore, I won’t. It only serves to offer more loneliness, and that’s the one thing I don’t want to feel with him.
I sigh and look around the room, checking all the obvious places I’d normally find a bug.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking. I’m assuming you have the room rigged. At least for audio?”
He sneers, annoyance rolling from him as he reaches for his phone.
“You didn’t care when we were fucking?” he mutters, his fingers furiously inputting something.
