Chapter Forty-Three
Music without passion is merely noise. A life without passion? You may as well be dead. —Gabe H.
Gabe
“Shh.” I pulled her into my arms and dragged her to the couch, then I turned on the fireplace in front of us. I was thanking my lucky stars that I’d had a cleaning crew go through the house and air everything out so we weren’t sitting on dust. “You know, you’re going to give me a complex. I’m supposed to be making it so you don’t cry.”
Saylor sniffled against my chest, not raising her head. “I’m so sorry. I just—”
“What?”
“You found the one. At the right time. The girl you loved. The girl you wanted everything with. You were so brave, so… raw. You gave her everything and…” Saylor’s breath hitched. “Looking at pictures of you guys together… it destroys me, Gabe. It’s not fair.”
I closed my eyes and held her tighter. “I know.”
“It’s not fair,” she repeated. “It’s not fair that I’m here and she isn’t. It’s not fair that you have to show me your house and that she can’t be the one to make cookies for you every Christmas. She’s never going to come through those doors and walk into your embrace. That is never going to happen.”
I fought the tears clogging in my throat. “I know.”
“I feel unworthy,” Saylor whispered. “To see this. To be with you. It should be her.”
“You’re not unworthy.” I stroked her arm. “I’m sharing this with you. You, Saylor.” I pried her away from my chest so I could look into her clear blue eyes. “The thing about life? It never goes as planned. But, right now, in this moment, with you in my arms. I wouldn’t want it any other way. Please believe me when I say that. This moment — it’s a gift. Just by being here, you’re making that pain a little less sharp.”
A tear slid down her cheek.
“Number four,” Saylor whispered.
“What?” I watched her lips as she spoke.
“Tear number four. You just made up for it.”
“By making you cry more?” I touched my forehead to hers.
“No.” Saylor cupped the back of my head. “By understanding the tears in the first place.”
With a shaky voice I answered, “They weren’t because of me.”
“No.”
“They’re for me.”
“Yeah. A tear for a tear,” she said softly. “Isn’t that what you said?”
I didn’t trust myself to speak. I could only nod as I watched the flames lick wildly in the fireplace.
After a few minutes of silence, I looked down at Saylor. Her hot little dress and high heels were still on.
We were alone in an amazing house that I hadn’t visited in four years.
And we were sitting on a couch.
Depressed.
“Am I the worst date ever?” I blurted.
Saylor’s head jerked up, a watery smile appeared, “Well…”
“No more tears.” I got up and marched toward the kitchen. “You’ve seen the house. You know the story. Now we’re going to be awesome.”
“Oh?” Her eyebrows shot up as her gaze followed me into the kitchen.
I didn’t really know my way around anywhere, but I did know that the staff had stocked food in the pantry and that a few menus for takeout were lying around just in case we got hungry.
“Next person who cries has to run around outside naked,” I declared, lifting the menus into the air.
Saylor tilted her head. “You do realize that just makes me want you to cry right?”
I smirked. “There are easier ways to get me naked, honey.”
She blushed and looked down at her hands.
“Aw, the pink pony’s making a comeback,” I teased.
Saylor crossed her arms, and lifted her head, eyes sparkling with indignation. “It was purple.”
“A pony’s a pony — you still ride it.”
Saylor’s face flamed red.
“Gotcha.” I winked.
“You’re too confident for your own good.” She scowled.
“Does the fact that I slept with my rat next to my bed until he died make me any less confident sounding?”
“No.”
“I hate spiders?” I offered. “And I’m slightly terrified of them?”
Saylor took a few steps toward my spot in the kitchen. “How afraid? Like if a small spider skittered across the floor, what would happen?”
“I’d scream and squash its hairy ass.”
“Hmm.” She tapped her chin and took a few more steps, “And if I put a spider in your bed?”
“I’d weep,” I answered honestly. “Honest to God tears. And then I’d scream and squash its hairy ass.”
She flashed a grin and leaned against the counter, which meant her entire body was outlined by the back glow of the fireplace. I swallowed the dryness in my throat. “And if I was dressed as a spider?”
My eyes didn’t leave hers when I answered, “I’d pin you against the floor, strip the costume off and then attempt not to squash your very pretty, gorgeous, infuriating ass.”
I wasn’t sure who reached for whom first.
But all of a sudden our bodies collided, our mouths met in a frenzy. I lifted her onto the countertop as she wrapped her legs around my waist. With a moan, her body trembled beneath my touch. I cupped her face with one hand while I steadied her body with the other. I wanted to kiss her until my lips were sore, until my mouth was swollen, until my body was spent, so basically I wanted to kiss her until forever.
This kiss was different.
A lifetime of kisses — and nothing compared to her mouth, her touch, her taste.
It was shattering to realize how incredible of a pull another human being could have on someone — just by touching them.
But Saylor wasn’t just touching me, she was enveloping me with her body, she wasn’t just kissing me, she was sharing her soul with me. Saylor was showing me what words couldn’t express.
Her tongue drove me wild as it swirled around mine — I dug my hand into her hair grabbing a fistful of it as I tried to pull her tighter against my body.
Saylor’s arms tightened around my neck as the sensation of our bodies colliding, rubbing against each other, nearly had me passing out.
Every touch was like getting permanently branded.
She pulled back, her eyes glazed.
I stared at her.
She stared at me.
Weird how people can communicate without saying one damn word. Saylor, slowly, pried herself from my body and hopped off the counter, then grabbed my hand and dragged me to the couch.
I followed. There wasn’t any other option.
When we reached the couch. I didn’t hesitate to pull her into my arms and fall backward onto it so that she was on top of me.
We started kissing again.
This time slower. I took my time tasting her, exploring every inch of her mouth until I thought I was going to go insane. She responded to my every touch, with little sighs.
It was killing me.
“Say…” I nipped her upper lip.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “New memories, Gabe. In this house, just you and me.”
I pushed the ghosts of Kimmy away from my mind and focused on the present. Focused on Saylor, and only Saylor, as we kept kissing. I pushed my hand against her stomach, brushing my knuckles against her ribs. Saylor gasped. I tore my mouth away from hers, making eye contact with her briefly before she tangled her hands in my hair and pulled me hard against her mouth again. Another kiss, this one stronger, hungrier, deeper. Her mouth moved from my mouth to my ear, her hot breath giving me chills all the way down my spine. I was consumed by her, each touch and kiss made it harder for me to keep clothing between us — when all I wanted was to make her mine.
My hands pushed against her bare skin, inching higher and higher, a soft moan escaped. My body cried out, and I slowly pulled back the pressure of my kiss, because as hard as it was, each kiss also reminded me that I wouldn’t be giving Saylor everything I had — because I wasn’t in possession of everything right now.
Because how could I truly take from Saylor? How could I truly give myself to her? When part of my heart was still missing?
And that was the problem.
My heart had never been engaged with other girls and one night stands. But with Saylor? I was pretty sure had I had my heart in the palm of my hand I would have handed it to her then lain prostrate on the floor. Just hoping, begging, for her to accept it even though it didn’t look like other hearts. Even though it was damaged.
Saylor’s hands dug into the sides of my body as she moved on top of me. H-o-o-ly shit. This wasn’t going to end well.
“Say—” I was cut off by another kiss. “Saylor, we can’t. I can’t sleep with you.”
She pulled back, a smile forming at her swollen mouth, “Who said anything about sleep?”
“No.” Why the hell was my face heating up? “I mean we can’t have sex.”
Her smile returned. “Did I tell you I was going to have sex with you?”
“Well… no.” Damn it.
“So?” She leaned down until her breasts were brushing against my chest. Hell. Turn on the AC already. Great plan, Gabe. A fireplace? What was I thinking?
“So.” I licked my lips. “I’m confused.”
“You ever make out?” She kissed me softly. “Do you ever just kiss to kiss?”
“No.”
“You should.” She brushed another kiss on my neck. I groaned, grabbing her body and pulling her hard against me. “Sometimes, the appetizers are better than the main course.”
At that, I laughed. “Oh yeah? Prove it.” I put my hands behind my head and winked.
“Rule number one.” She traced the outline of my jaw with her finger. “Never let your guard down.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I may just take you up on your offer.” With a smirk she pushed up my shirt and started licking.
Licking.
She was licking me.
And I was liking it.
Way. Too. Much.
“Say—”
And then she bit me, right where she’d licked me. There was sucking, something that I could only describe as swirling even though I knew it sounded insane. And more kissing.
I fought to keep my hips from driving toward her — from making this more than just kissing.
Her teeth nipped at my lower stomach where my jeans met skin, and then that damn tongue of hers went to work again.
I couldn’t focus on anything because my vision kept going blurry, so I closed my eyes.
Her hands dipped behind me, gripping my ass and then gripping harder as her fingers dug into flesh and then started to slowly massage.
Erotic, yes. Relaxing, even more so.
And before I knew it. I was getting sleepy. Not because I wasn’t as turned on as hell, but because she was just — everywhere. I felt her everywhere. I was like a fat happy cow before getting sacrificed. No doubt about it, I was going to most likely explode from want.
But in that moment… I savored every damn touch.
And allowed myself to succumb — to her.