Page 65 of Saving Ren
“I’m not laughing at your dick. I’m sure it’s a magnificent dick, with nothing to laugh at about it. It was just the way you slid your hands inside your jocks, and. . . and. . .” I struggle to come up with a word. . . or to even look at him.
“Readjusted?” he offers. “It’s a bloke thing.”
“Not having a dick, I wouldn’t know this.”
“Good to know that you know nothing about having a dick, babe. Just putting it out there, I consider myself pretty open-minded, and love is love, wherever you might find it, but dicks, and specifically birds with dicks, as far as I know, are not my thing.”
“Good. Glad we got that sorted. You wanna coffee?” I ask, still not looking at him but wanting, very much, to get off the subject of dicks.
“Glad we got it sorted too, but before you make coffee, I wanna know what last night was all about?”
I enjoy the sensation of his thumb brushing against the bare skin of my lower black, beneath the T of his I went to bed wearing last night. Finally looking up at him, I shrug.
“You don’t know, or don’t wanna talk about it?”
Scooting up the bed, I sit with my back against the headboard, putting me slightly higher than him. I look down to where his eyes are on me.
“It was just another nightmare, but more vivid than the others. I actually remember this one.”
His eyes dart rapidly over my face before meeting back up with mine.
“Was he in it?” I know exactly who ‘he’ is, and I nod.
“Did he hurt you? You tried to fight me when I held on to you,” he says quietly.
My eyes close, and my gut clenches at the thought of lashing out at Gabe.
“I’m so sorry,” I choke out.
“No. No, no, no. Don’t be sorry. You didn’t hurt me, and it wouldn’t matter if you did. I just hate that it’s happening.”
Gabe sits up, puts his arm around my shoulders, and pulls me against his chest.
“I hate that you’re still reliving what that fucker did to you. I hate that he’s still got the power to do that.”
He kisses the top of my head. I slide my hand across his belly, leaving it to rest on his hip, and tilt my face up to meet his. His mouth is closer than I expected, and our lips brush.
It’s like an explosion.
An instant reaction to all the emotion, hurt, anger, sexual attraction, and tension that’s been bubbling between and inside us for the past weeks.
It ignites so fast that my head spins with the speed. His mouth is on mine, his tongue pushing inside, tasting me. In seconds I’m on my back, my legs spread wide, Gabe’s hips grinding against mine. My T-shirt comes off, and I’m hyper-aware of his chest hair on my nipples as my hips buck, and I wrap my legs around him. His teeth rake across my jaw and down my neck. My fingers claw at his hair and dig into his scalp. His hand finds my breast, pushing it up to meet his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, and I let out a groan at the exact same time the gate alarm sounds.
My groan dissolves into a whimper, but I continue to grind against him.
“Fuck,” he says against my neck, his thumb still brushing back and forth across my nipple. “It’s Jimmy, the pool bloke. Fuck.”
“Ignore it. I’m happy to swim in a dirty pool or sit in a dirty spa. . . or just not use them at all. We can just go down to the beach if we wanna swim.”
He adjusts his position above me. Looking down, he gives me a lop-sided sexy smile.
“You could, but you’d probably freeze your tits off, and I’d prefer to come home and find them still attached to the rest of you.”
Opening my eyes and mouth as wide as I can, I stare up at him. “You only want me for my rack?”
He instantly pushes up on his elbows, cups both of my boobs in his hands, and pushes them up and together. Lowering his head, he kisses each of my nipples before looking up at me.
“It’s a pretty spectacular rack,” he tells me with a wink and a smile that sends a pulse to so many parts of me. “Besides, when I get back, I’d like to be able to use the pool and spa with you, without freezing my dick off.”
