On The Rocks

“Feels amazing,” I concur.

I start to move against her, in her. The feeling is so intense as I fuck her slowly… softly. Pulling her hands up above her head, I lace my fingers among hers and prop some of my weight on my elbows so I don’t crush her. Her legs raise up, her knees gripping along my ribcage, pulling me in deeper. We stare at each other the entire time, and it strikes me with wonder that Gabby is laying underneath my body and we are sharing in the height of intimacy between two people.

Things are never going to be the same between us.

I’m not sure if it’s the way our hearts beat against each other as my chest lays flush against hers, but we are in sync… our bodies marching to the beat of the same drummer. Just as I feel her start to stiffen up, just as her head tilts back and her eyes close, I feel my orgasm start to prickle deep within me. It doesn’t rush at me but rather builds like a symphony orchestra striving for their crescendo, then it crashes through me just as Gabby issues a soft cry of pleasure and starts to shudder below me.

I go absolutely still inside of her as my orgasm shoots hot out of me, squeezing my eyes shut. I don’t make a sound or another movement, choosing instead to put all of my attention on what must be the most amazing feeling of my entire life. It seems to go on and on, and that’s fine by me. I don’t ever want it to stop, as wave after wave of bliss washes through me.

When I’m empty. . . completely devoid, I roll to my side and pull her into my arms. I listen as her breathing quiets, rubbing her back in soft strokes.

We lay like that for a while, listening to the rain beat down on the roof, both alone with our thoughts. I want to say something… but I’m not sure what. Things changed the minute I touched my finger to her neck, and there’s no going back. I’m just not sure how to move forward, particularly in light of Gabby’s apparent disdain for all things Hunter Markham.

I can honestly say, though, that I’m not surprised when Gabby pulls out of my grasp and rolls to the edge of the bed.

“I need to get going,” she says brusquely as she stands and heads into the kitchen.

I roll out of bed on my side, taking the used condom off and tossing it in the trashcan. I follow her, finding her shrugging into my robe and looking around.

“Gabby… don’t run off,” I say as I pull my jeans on.

She turns to me, and her face is closed off. “Where’s your dryer, so I can get my clothes?”

I step up to her and put my hands on her shoulders. Her gaze is averted, so I wait patiently until she looks up at me. My heart constricts when I see fear swimming in her eyes. “This was a mistake, Hunter. A huge mistake.”

“No way,” I disagree adamantly. “That was the best fucking thing that could have happened between us.”

She pulls away and steps back. “It was sex, Hunter. There are better things in life than that.”

Ouch… that hurt, but I really don’t think she meant that. “It was more than just sex, and you know it. We have a history together.”

She laughs then, and it’s bitter. “History? Yeah, we have history, but it’s not really that great of a history.”

“We can make it better,” I insist. “What just happened isn’t ordinary. That was special.”

Anger masks her face, and she goes right for putting my nuts in a vice-grip. “Oh, God, Hunter. Could you be any more of a girl? That was fucking, pure and simple. We both got off, and it was good. But don’t go getting on bended knee and turn this into a fairytale.”

What. The. Fuck?

I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone. Am I being a girl? Was that not as special as I had built it up in my mind?

I open my mouth to say something… to deny what she’s saying, but I can’t think of a fucking thing to say. Maybe she’s right. Maybe this was just a fuck. An amazingly great fuck, but just a fuck.