Chapter Nineteen: Lynette
Gabriel woke me with breakfast. I pulled myself up, rubbing my eyes.
“What time is it?”
He kissed my temple, sliding down on the bed with me. I leaned against him.
“Ten thirty. I didn't know what you liked so I got you pancakes. I figured everyone likes pancakes.”
I nodded, wincing when I tried to move. My body was sore, everything ached.
“Do you want to talk about anything?” he asked.
I shook my head, only pulled myself closer to him.
“Then we won't.”
“Does your leg hurt?” I asked, reaching a hand over to rub his thigh.
“Terribly. But you probably knew that already.”
“I'm sorry about knocking you off balance at the bar. I didn't think. I thought you were going to kill him.”
I looked down at the bruises on his knuckles.
“I was. I truly think I was. I was planning to surprise you then take you to dinner. Chinese because it's what you keep asking for. The door was locked and I could hear him yelling and you weren’t making a sound. All I could think about was getting through the door and making sure you were alright. And you weren't okay. Because once again I wasn't there in time. Because you were alone. Again.”
“You're not just talking about last night.”
“It's my fault. All of this is my fault.”
“It's not your fault, Gabriel.”
His hand stilled on my back. I moved against him, taking his face in both of my hands. He was frowning slightly, his face was warm, his cheeks freshly shaven. He smelled like aftershave.
“It's not your fault and you have to stop blaming yourself for all of these things. I read your letters. All of them. Don't you think you've suffered enough?”
He moved to pull out of my hands, to disagree.
“I think you have, Gabriel. I think you have.”
I moved to kiss him. Gabriel reached up to stop me, gently touching the side of my face. His fingers were hot on the sensitive bruises. Suddenly I was reminded of how hideous I must look with a bruised face and neck. I turned away from him so he wouldn’t have to look.
“Baby look at me,” Gabriel pleaded.
I turned back to him. His eyes were locked on me, searching my face.
“You’re beautiful, always,” he said, pulling my face to his.
His kiss was hot against me. I pushed his mouth open with mine, hungry for him, his touch. He pulled me onto his lap, holding me close, his mouth finding my neck, his hand in the hollow of my back. I sighed against his touch, wanting him, needing him.
His phone rang. Loud and rude against our solitude. He stopped and regretfully pulled it out of his pocket.
“I have to take this call. I'm supposed to be working right now.”
I nodded at him, letting him lean back against the bed, the space between us filling with cold air.
“Hello?” he answered.
I moved to climb off him and he stopped me, his thumb trailing over my hipbone before squeezing my thigh.
I smiled at him, bending and kissing his neck. He stroked my hair as I moved lower beneath his collar. I used my good hand to unbutton his shirt. His conversation was dull background noise. My lips brushed against soft hairs. I felt his breath hitch as my tongue found his pink nipples, teasing him. He leaned his head back, breathing hard on the phone.
“I'm fine,” he said to the caller. “Just fax the files. I'll take care of it.”
Slipping into the space next to him, I ran my fingers over his stomach, the hairs were soft, his breathing deep and even. I loosened his belt, pulling it out of the buckle. I watched his eyes as I unbuttoned his pants and slipped my hand into the space, finding him already hard and waiting for me.
I pulled his pants down past his hips until they were at his knees. I stroked him slowly, watching his eyes close. His answers to the caller became clipped, single words.
Leaning close to his ear, I whispered, “I want you. I want you to make me feel something.”
He told the caller he had to go, hung up and let the phone drop to the floor. I climbed back on top of him, the phone buzzing against the carpet. He pulled my mouth to his, kissing me hard. His need melted me.
I could feel my desire rushing. He pulled my shirt up, breaking the kiss for a moment to reveal my body to him. He ran his hands down my side. He slipped his hands into my panties. I moaned as I rocked against him.
“I need these gone now,” he growled underneath me.
I smiled at him, his need evident. I moved off him, then pulled off my panties. I quickly climbed back onto him, his cock nestled underneath me.
He moaned softly.
I moved against him, watching his eyes. He cradled my face in one hand, holding my hip in another.
I moved slightly, letting him slip inside of me. I gasped as I took him gently, letting my weight push him deeper inside of me. I moved slowly against him, leaning forward onto his chest, completely forgetting about my hand. I pulled up quickly as pain shot through it.
He caught me, rubbing my back, kissing me gently, urging my hips to move. He whispered, bringing me closer to him, letting me lean against him to balance my weight.
“Baby, look at me,” he moaned. His green eyes locked on mine, intense, needing. “I want you to see how much I want you.”
“You have me.”
My hips sped up as his eyes fluttered closed. I leaned into him, pressing my breasts against his chest. I kissed his cheek, his ear as he held my hips down, keeping himself deep inside of me.
I felt my orgasm building, my moans and breathing mixing with his. Our desire building until as one we came, the climax washing over us both. I kissed Gabriel's closed eyes before gingerly slipping off him. He reached for me as I slid my naked body under the covers keeping my body close to his.
My hand and bruises were a dull ache. He kissed my forehead, letting me drift for a moment.
“Oh no, you don’t. Wake up,” he said, laughing.
“What?”
“Wake up. Eat your pancakes and take some medicine and then you can go back to sleep.”
I dragged myself into a sitting position and he handed over my breakfast. I opened the plastic container revealing a still steaming pile of pancakes covered in butter and syrup. My mouth watered involuntary as I dug in.
“Are you going to share?” he asked.
“No! You should have got yourself some if you wanted it,” I said, stuffing a huge bite into my mouth. “Did you get any orange juice?” I asked, around my full mouth.
“Were you raised in barn? Wait until you swallow to speak,” he joked, handing me a carton of orange juice.
“No, not a barn, a bar. By a man who was a functioning alcoholic. Or should I say non-functioning alcoholic.”
Gabriel reached into the container with a fork and stole a piece of pancake. I cut my eyes to him. He shoved the fork into his mouth.
“What about your Mom? I thought she passed when you were sixteen.”
“My mom had Hodgkin's Lymphoma. She was dying for as long as I can remember,” I answered.
“I'm sorry, darling. You don't have to talk about this,” Gabriel said, touching my hand.
“No, it's okay. It's old news now. At first she was sick from the treatments. And then she gave up on that and she was just sick.” I shrugged. “And then she wasn't anything anymore.”
I smiled sadly at him.
He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off, changing the subject. “Who was on the phone?”
“That was my secretary. It's Tuesday and I'm not in the office to do payroll so everybody is in a panic.”
“Damn! That's important.”
He laughed and kissed me.
“It’ll get done. She has my check signature stamp and knows how to do the payroll. Besides, right now this is more important.”
I rolled my eyes, stuffing more pancakes into my mouth.
“You're an idiot.”
“A fool maybe,” he agreed.
We ate together, laughing and enjoying each other until I drifted back into sleep.