I thumb her clit, press hard against the swollen piece of flesh and she gasps against my mouth. I roll it between my fingers and she pulls away from our kiss, a shuddery moan escaping her as her hips lift. “Oh, God Gabe.”
“Are you close?” I ask, needing her to be close. “You want more?” I want to see her come. I want this more than I want my own satisfaction and that’s fucking unheard of. Lifting away from her a bit, I stare down at her near writhing body, thankful for the sexy view. Her breasts strain against the thin lace and satin of her bra, her skin is flushed and my hand is stretching her panties out.
Unbelievably hot.
She nods, offering a choked yes in response. I circle her clit repeatedly, increasing my pace, whispering words of encouragement in Lucy’s ear.
“Come for me, Luce. I wanna see you come. I wanna feel you come all over my fingers.”
My words send her over the edge. A loud moan falls from her lips and I seal my mouth over hers, continue to stroke her as the orgasm rocks her body. She shudders, her pussy seeming to spasm beneath my touch, a gush of wetness coating my fingers. It goes on for long, drawn out seconds and I keep touching her, eventually slowing my pace until she’s pushing my hand away, murmuring against my lips, “Too much. It’s too much.”
I lift my head and stare at her, my heart racing as if I’m the one who’d just come my brains out. I realize at that precise moment it might never be enough. Not when it comes to Lucy.
And that thought terrifies me.
I think I have a problem. And his name is Gabriel Walker.
Not that he’s a problem. More like…an addiction. And addictions are bad, right? They consume you until you can think of nothing else but having your next hit. Your next fix. It’s like I need him. Not want him—need him.
He invades my thoughts. My dreams. He’s always on my mind, and I want to spend all of my time with him—and I have a lot of free time on my hands. House sitting is not a strenuous job. These people who live here don’t even own pets. They just didn’t want their house looking abandoned and they didn’t want to rent it out to strangers.
So they have me in there instead. The girl who thought she’d spend the entire summer alone reading and trying her best to lose a little weight. Who instead is messing around with the hottest man on the planet every chance she gets. Messing around with him all over their house, though we’re always careful. Well, I’m careful.
I’m also totally into Gabe. Like, way into Gabe.
What’s weird? He seems to feel the same way about me.
It’s been two weeks since that stolen moment in his room when he made me come so hard I thought I saw stars. He’s been in hot pursuit of making me come as many times as possible ever since. And lucky me, he’s done it quite often. To the point where I’ve lost track of exactly how many times he’s given me an orgasm with his fingers and/or talented mouth.
Speaking of his talented mouth, the first time he went down on me I almost couldn’t take the amazing feeling of his tongue licking against my sensitive flesh. I thought I would die. And I wasn’t even close to orgasm—though he did make that happen pretty quickly.
As I mentioned, he’s extremely talented.
And okay, fine I’m a liar. I’ve totally kept count of those orgasms. I’ve had approximately eighteen and a half. The half is added for that one night after nearly getting caught by Sydney when we were making out in his car while parked in his driveway. My hand in the front of his swim trunks, his hand between my legs, Gabe had somehow caught sight of her gradual approach and by the time she was knocking on the driver’s side window, we’d sprung apart, breathing hard but otherwise completely innocent.
My friend isn’t falling for it. She knows what’s up but doesn’t protest or warn me anymore. I’m guessing she figures this is my own problem or hey, maybe I have her unspoken approval.
I like to think it’s the last part.
So back to the orgasms. Let’s do the math with eighteen and a half over a span of fourteen days. That’s a lot of orgasms so far. And I’ve returned the favor as many times as he’s let me. And that’s become my new favorite thing. My fingers wrapped around his thick erection, the lift of his hips just before he comes, the beautiful, agonized expression that crosses his face as he falls over the edge.
I love watching him come. I love the feel of his semen making a mess all over my hand, which I should think is gross, right? But I don’t. Not at all. One time he came all over my naked breasts and that had been all sorts of hot. I’ve finally broken out of my embarrassed mode and given him a few blowjobs. I haven’t given many—okay, none—but he told me my enthusiasm made up for any inexperience I had.
Oh, and the things he says seriously make me want to swoon.
“I love the way you look when you’re on your knees in front of me and my cock is in your mouth,” he’d told me a few nights ago, his husky voice sending a shiver down my spine.
We were sitting on the couch at my house, the TV off, the house quiet and dark when I went down on my knees in front of him. He’d touched my cheek, his fingers drifting across my skin as I pulled him out of my mouth and licked just the head. My gaze never left his and the way he watched me made me bold. I continued licking him, sucking the tip, teasing the flared head with my tongue and the tortured moan that fell from his lips sent a ribbon of satisfaction curling through me. “That you want to do this for me blows my mind, Luce,” he’d choked out.