I slid my arms around Gabe’s neck, clinging to him as he rode me. He wasn't being gentle like usual but I didn't mind. As long as he held me in his strong arms, I didn't mind anything.

"Fuck, you feel so good. How could you feel so good?"

He grunted and I felt him twitch inside me. I was close to coming, even though something felt weird. Then I figured out what it was.

He wasn't kissing me. Not once. Or telling me I was beautiful. He was barely touching me.

He was just... fucking.

"That's it baby. Come for me."

And I did.

He rode through my orgasm, his sexy groans making me come even harder.

"You like that, don't you?"

I whimpered as he tweaked my nipple.

"Why Tabby? Fuck. Fuck, why pretend? We could have been doing this all along."

I was in a post orgasmic haze but I opened my eyes, forcing myself to look at him. He was fucking me faster now. Harder.

He cursed and I felt him come inside me. I squeezed his shoulders as he shuddered helplessly. He opened his eyes and stared down at me. His eyes were confused.

I realized what had been bothering me.

It was the first emotion he'd shown all night.

"You still make me feel like no one else."

Still? What was he talking about? He didn't pull out. I felt him getting hard again inside me. He moaned and squeezed my breast. Then he started to move.

"How many others have there been? How many this week?"

"What?"

He reached down to play with my body, his fingers on my clit.

"Just tell me. There's no reason to lie anymore. I told you you could keep the car."

"Ah!"

I came again as he strummed my clit faster and faster. But something was wrong- something-

"I don't even care if you fuck them in it. I just want you to be safe."

I was still coming but alarm bells were going off. What was he talking about? Gabe exhaled heavily as he lowered his lips to my breasts.

"Even now I can't resist you. Or this body."

"Wait-"

He growled as he flicked his tongue over my nipples, driving into me. He stared up at me, his eyes blazing.

"You must think I'm an idiot."

Then he came. He lay on top of me, breathing heavily. When he lifted his head he gave me a cold look.

“Gabe?”

"Want to go for round four? I don't have anyplace better to be."

"No." I knew now. I knew that he had changed his mind. I pushed at his shoulders. "Get off of me."

He pulled out with a grunt.

"Jesus, how could you feel so good?”

I bit back a cry. He was talking to me like I was a tramp. Like he'd thought that all along.

"Stop talking to me like that."

He shrugged and pulled his jeans on.

"Like what? Like you've been doing half the guys in this town and lying to me about it?"

I stared at him, my mouth open. My voice was thin, reedy. Like a little girl begging for scraps.

For kindness.

“You’re just drunk Gabe. You should go home.”

“Yeah, I’m drunk. It doesn’t mean you haven’t been playing me.”

"I was a virgin. You know I didn't-"

He grabbed my arm, forcing me to look at him.

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not!"

He reached out to stroke my face.

"I don't care. I still want you. If you stop seeing the rest of them, we can see how this goes."

He laughed, the sound harsh and bitter.

"How crazy is that? I don't even care. I will keep you too busy to fuck anyone else."

I started crying then. He frowned and reached for me.

"Don't cry, Tabby. I said I would give you another chance. I just wish you hadn't lied."

I pushed his hands away and grabbed my shirt, holding it in front of me. I didn’t want him looking at me anymore.

I didn’t want him to see me.

"Get out."

He stared at me, his jaw ticking. I scrambled for my purse and chucked the keys at him.

"Take your fucking car keys."

He put his boots on, talking the whole time.

"I didn't ask for any of this, you know. You show up, looking like a lost puppy. I didn't ask to be fucking lied to!"

Very slowly, he stood up and put the rest of his clothes on. He dropped the keys on the floor with a thud.

"Keep the fucking car. You earned it."

And then he was gone.

I stood there in the living room naked, wrapped in a baggy t-shirt while the cold air blew into the house. I forced myself to move, to shut the door. To feed the cat.

To take a shower.

No matter what I did though, I couldn’t wash his touch away. I couldn’t wash away his words.

Or the cold look in his eyes.

I crawled into bed and cried myself to sleep.