AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter fifteen
Abbie
Iwake to the distinct scent of coffee.
I inhale and turn over to discover myself still in Gabe’s bed, while he’s not, at all. Lying on his pillow is a note that reads:Abbie, in neat male handwriting. Gabe’s handwriting.Abbie.He calls me Abbie and I like it. Despite the way it attaches to my father, I like it. I like him. I think. Where is he? I sit up and open the note and read:Orgasm, me, and coffee waiting downstairs. I’ll throw in pancakes if you promise to stay with me again tonight.
Heat rushes to my cheeks and my sex clenches with the idea of that orgasm, but a moment later, I re-read the part of the note that says:if you stay with me again tonight. He already wants me to stay again tonight? Which implies he wants me to spend Saturday with him. I shouldn’t. I can’t. I want to. I set the note on the nightstand and look around his room, which I barely glanced at last night. I was too busy focusing on the man, his tattoo, and orgasm number three.
The room is large. The furniture is oversized. Two navy-blue cushy chairs frame a fireplace in the corner. An arched windowthat is the center of the main wall must have internal blinds because I can’t see outside, but I wonder if the ocean and the Statue of Liberty are beyond. His safe place above the city. Our safe place last night and that was unique and special in ways that were unexpected.He’sunexpected.
I throw away the covers, naked inside and out with this man in so many ways. I scoot to the edge of the giant bed, and its size, well, that is the one thing with Gabe that I find to be as expected. Most men have giant beds, which I surmise to be some kind of macho alpha thing. Big bed, big cock, or something like that. Not that Gabe acts out that symbolism, but Kenneth does. I press my hands to my face. I’m comparing again.I’m the only man here, Gabe said last night. I drop my hands and press them to the bed. I wish that were true, but my ex is a monster who won’t allow that to be the case.
I stand up and hunt for my clothes, but I can’t find them. I scoop up Gabe’s T-shirt and pull it over my head, the spicy, earthy, delicious scent of him teasing my nostrils. This man smells like temptation and sin and satisfaction. My satisfaction. If I don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to forget to protect him from my ex and me from him. I hurry to the bathroom, use it, wash up, including my face and glance down to find another note.
I pick it up and find an unopened toothbrush underneath it. I open the card to read:I keep extras on hand and yes, I took your clothes. We both want you to stay. He doesn’t get to change that.
I don’t know if I should laugh or shout. He’s adorable, and yet somehow quite controlling. He likes control. I saw that last night and while I said no more controlling men, there’s something about the way Gabe goes about it. I grab the toothbrush, open a drawer and find it tidy and organized, with toothpaste right in the center. Tidy and organized is also about control.
I brush my teeth and then my hair with his brush. I use his moisturizer, which is actually a good brand. After, I hunt down my phone and check for messages that I don’t have and with it in hand, I head downstairs, following the scent of coffee down the steel steps with leather-covered handrails. I enter the open living room connected to the kitchen to find the incredible ocean view to my left can’t hold my attention. Not with the incredibly hot, shirtless man behind the island flipping pancakes.
I stop walking, holding onto the rail next to the final step, and just drink in the view that is all Gabe and no one else. He’s right, so very right, that he’s the only man present. In fact, I’m not sure I even remember my ex’s name right this minute. I’m not sure that I remember my name right now.
He looks up and catches my stare, the connection between us downright electric. Every muscle in my body tenses and heats. He settles a pancake on a plate and turns off the stove, pressing his hands on the counter to look at me. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I say and my voice trembles with schoolgirl-like nerves that scream of how affected I am by this man. How incapable of playing it cool with this man I am, but I’m not sure I really want to play it cool. I kissed him in a hallway outside a bathroom and started this spontaneous, sexy fun, which now more than ever, feels right with Gabe.
“I hope you’re as hungry as I am right now,” he adds, his stare raking over my puckered nipples underneath his thin white T-shirt before it lifts to mine again. “Come here.” It’s a low, rough command, and a few days ago I would have sworn I wouldn’t take another order from a man in my personal life, but I’m back to Gabe. It’s all about Gabe. It’s about what he makes me feel. It’s about the way he commands, and my nipples tighten, and my sex aches.
I start walking, crossing to join him, but when I could round the island to stand next to him, I don’t. I stop on the oppositeside of the counter and set my phone down to press my hands to the hard surface. He leans in a little closer. “I like you like this.”
“How is that?” I ask.
“Natural. No make-up. In my apartment and naked except for my T-shirt that I’m already mentally taking off of you.”
“Then how will you feed me?” I dare, his sexy playfulness catching fire in me.
“Sweetheart, you can eat pancakes while I eat you and I’ll be a happy man.”
My cheeks heat, laughter bubbling from my lips. “Did you really just say that?”
“And meant it,” he assures me, wiggling a brow at me. “Come over here and find out.”
“Are you naked right now?”
He laughs. “No. You don’t make pancakes with the family jewels on display. That’s dangerous.”
We both laugh now and it fades into a combustible heat. “I’m coming over this counter to get you if you don’t get your sweet ass around it right now.”
My cellphone rings and he’s the one who glances at it and then me. “Your mother,” he says, reading the caller ID. “Take it so you won’t worry. Then we’ll eat pancakes.” He pauses for effect and adds, “Eventually.”
So I won’t worry? How does he know this about me already? “Thank you,” I mouth and then grab my phone and answer. “Morning, mom.”
“I have a problem. Oh God, I have a huge problem. It’s really—it’s bad and—” Dogs yap in the background. “I need help.”
“What’s wrong? What’s happening?”
Gabe sets the pan he’s picked up back down and meets my stare, concern in his eyes as my mother says, “We broke two pipes. The place is flooding. I have to get the dogs out. I havevolunteers coming in, but I don’t even know where to take the dogs. The cages are flooding. It’s horrible. It’s so bad.”
