Six months later
“Gavin! Where the hell are you?”
I run in the front door of our tiny little West Hollywood apartment, side-stepping all his sports equipment and duffle bag, looking for my boyfriend so I can share the good news with him.
I’m stopped short as I round the corner of our bedroom and find him stepping out of the shower. Wet and naked.
Holy cow, can it get any better than that?
His physique was amazing before, but now that’s he’s on a special diet and conditioning regimen for training camp, he’s put on over fifteen pounds of muscle. And let me tell you, I am the lucky benefactor of all that hard work these past few months.
Dropping my purse on the floor and kicking off my flip flops, I stalk toward him, watching the grin grow from happy-to-see-me to an “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” expression.
And oh yeah, I’m definitely thinking that.
“Hey there, Kitty,” he murmurs, skimming the towel over the ridges of his abdominals, letting the ripples play peak-a-boo with my gaze. “You seem pretty excited to see me. Is it because you missed me?”
I nearly knock him over when I jump in his arms. He loses the towel on the floor and wraps his hands underneath my ass, taking the opportunity to squeeze it playfully.
“I have some really good news, baby.” I croon.
His mouth finds mine, as I open to let him plunder and explore freely. I’m instantly wet and responsive, my arms around his neck, fingers slipping through his damp hair as my pelvis grinds shamelessly against his stomach.
“Mm…is this news that requires a celebratory fuck?”
“Oh yeah,” I confirm, pulling his tongue between my teeth and sucking. His groan reverberates off the tile of the bathroom shower. “More than once, too.”
“I like the sound of that,” he confirms, leading us into the bedroom where he drops me on the unmade bed.
His body hovers over me, pressing me into the mattress. Unwrapping my arms, I trail my hand down his sculpted chest, caressing and touching all the beautifully tanned skin. A droplet of water sits at the indent of his collarbone, and I lift my head to flick it away with my tongue.
Then I start to suck at the skin, all colorful and slick, slowing grazing my way down to his heart where his newest tattoo rests. It’s an ice cream cone. When I asked him why he chose that, he said it was when he fell head over heels for me in Italy. The day we went to the armory bazaar together and I obnoxiously flirted with him and subsequently stole a kiss and his heart.
He’s such a romantic.
The head of his cock beads with moisture and stands at attention where I rub my palm over the smooth and tight skin. He growls a low, anguished groan.
When he speaks, his voice is tight and heavy with arousal. “You better stop that and give me the news, otherwise it might be awhile before you can speak again in full sentences.” He emphasizes this with a thrust into my hand and I giggle.
“Fine,” I acquiesce. “You’re looking at the newest model at Sandoval Modeling Agency, Los Angeles!”
Gavin takes my mouth into a warm, wet kiss, prying my lips open and exploring my taste with his tongue. His cock slips between my legs, where a throbbing ache has begun burn. I wrap my legs around his bare ass and dig my heels in as he rocks his hips forward, undulating against my sensitive flesh. It starts out tender, sweet with a hint of promise, but rapidly builds to a fevered pitch and soon turning savage.
Suddenly he rears back, pulling his lips from mine.
Gavin stares me straight in the eyes, his smile drugging me with its potency.
“I am so proud of you, Kitty. You set out to make this happen and you did it, all on your own. You are going to do such great things.”
I smile demurely under the weight of his praise. We’ve talked so much about our hopes and dreams since moving to L.A. He was picked up by the NBA expansion, the L.A. Stallions, back in July and we moved here right away. Since then, once we got settled, I’ve been scoping out legit modeling agencies, hoping to get a contract. A long-time friend of John, my mother’s husband, is a photographer and took some headshots of me so that I could shop them around the big and smaller agencies.
While doing that, I started a job for a local fashion designer as an executive admin slash gopher. Her name is Juanita Chavez and she’s an up and coming clothing designer that just established a huge contract with a large clothing chain. She’s also in the midst of opening a boutique called Nita, which she is grooming me to manage.
I love every minute working with Nita. She’s already asked my opinion on some major decisions and doesn’t care that I don’t have any formal education. She said she came from nothing, without a college degree, and doesn’t think it’s a requirement to fulfill your dreams.
My parents, on the other hand, still nag at me about going back to school at some point. I know I’ve really put them both through the ringer in the last six months – okay, my entire life – but they’ve both been very understanding and supportive.
Their biggest hesitation wasn’t me moving to L.A., but moving in with Gavin. However, thanks to my two siblings who were already shacking up with their significant others, it was a pretty simple task to win them over.
Plus, Gavin stole my mom’s heart right away and she adores him. While the verdict isn’t in yet on my dad’s acceptance, at least he knows I’m being taken care of and am protected with Gavin.
We drive back to Phoenix every four to six weeks to see our families. Gavin’s mom is alone now, as her husband Frank passed away a week after Gavin and I reunited this summer. I really love his mother. She’s kind and compassionate, and can put her sons in their places with just a bugged-out eye scolding. It’s kind of funny to see two grown men, both over six feet tall, tremble under the weight of their petite mother’s stare.
“Are you going to be walking the runway soon? Do you think you’ll become a Victoria’s Secret model?” He anchors his mouth above my breasts, sucking the flesh there as I moan from his ministrations.
“You’d be okay with me parading around a runway wearing next to nothing?”
He growls. “Fuck no. But I guess I could get used to it if you’d get to keep the sexy lingerie and give me private fashion shows at home.”
He wiggles his eyebrows and pulls the straps of my tank down, along with my bra cup, and rubs his stubbled chin and lips over the sensitive flesh. When he pulls my distended nipple between his teeth, I squirm and jerk underneath him.
Sex with Gavin is always hot and incredible. We fuck a lot, because hey, he’s an athlete and has a tremendous amount of stamina. But with Gavin, the sex is special every time because it incorporates love.
What Gavin gives me is more than physical. It’s more than an attraction or desire that burns out fast. His love reaches down straight into my soul and fills me with a calm I’ve never felt before.
Things aren’t perfect between us. I’m still stubborn and we often fight as loudly and frequently as we fuck.
But it works for us. I’m not the same messy, wild disaster I was when we first met. When I look back at all the foolish mistakes I’ve made, all my fuck-ups, hiccups and wrong turns I’ve taken, I realize that they all had a purpose. Each one taught me a little bit more about myself and who I was.
And each one of them was a step in his direction. They led me to Gavin.
That’s what having a mature relationship is all about. He’s taught me how to love and accept another person, as well as love myself. I’ve learned to love my flaws and imperfections, as much as I love his.
Loving each other through the hard stuff and celebrating life’s wins together is winning.
And there are no regrets and no mistakes in how we got here. Because in the end, we’re together. And that’s all that matters.
“I love you, babe,” I murmur as he slides inside of me, my heart and body his to take.
“I love you, too, Kitty. Now come get your celebratory catnip.”
The End