Page 67 of Dirty Pool

“Goddamn. You’re killing me here,” he said.

Gabbie laughed. “But that’s the fun part.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Flashing a foil packet at him, Gabbie flashed her teeth in a wicked smile before she tossed it to the end of the bed. Michel couldn’t shed the rest of his clothes or get that condom rolled down his length fast enough. His fingers felt like they were fumbling way too much. She was already on her back, red curls splaying out over the pillows as he climbed between her thighs, his hands curving around her thighs to widen them even more.

“God, yeah,” she mumbled.

He reveled in the sting of her fingernails dragging down his back as he buried himself as deep as he could get inside the heaven that was Gabbie’s pussy. There was something about the way she took him every time, stretching open for him and coating him with her arousal, that drove him crazy.

Her legs wrapped around his waist when he let them go. He only did that, so he could get his hands wrapped into her hair. Or one of them, anyway. His other found her throat as he started to really pound into her. He felt the thrum of her heartbeat pulsing hard against his touch, and every noise she made vibrated to his palm.

“Harder,” he heard her whisper.

His hand slipped up higher on her throat, pushing her head back as he cupped the spot just beneath her jaw. Those green eyes of hers blew wide to watch him hover above her as their bodies moved together in a rhythm he now found familiar. The way her lips trembled, the way she withered under him the closer she came to her orgasm, and how her nails dug in deeper when he was getting her just right.

Fuck, yeah.

“Come on, come on,” he urged. “Give it to me.”

She did.

And it was amazing.

Crying his name, a pink flush rushing down her throat and breasts, and so fucking perfect. He tipped his head down to capture her nipple between his teeth as his back tensed with his own oncoming orgasm. It took nothing at all for him to fall over the edge, too, emptying into latex while pinning her to the bed at the same time.

“Mmm.”

Gabbie’s happy little sound made him laugh against her breast. She went from wild to sweet in an instant, and he loved that.

Out of breath, but feeling better than he had in days, Michel asked, “Did you hear about a meeting around the end of October?”

“A month from now?”

“Yeah, babe.”

He didn’t know if the one Sal mentioned was going to involve the Irish, but he figured he should at least ask Gabbie. Her father had kept her at his place for a week after the shooting, but then she threw a fit that apparently convinced him it was time to send her home. That was two weeks ago—so it was a toss-up if she knew anything or not about a possible meeting.

Plus, Sal hadn’t given details.

It might not even be the Irish.

Except … who else would it be?

Gabbie’s head popped up a little more, so she could see him as she spoke. “No, I haven’t heard anything. But if there is one, I’ll find out.”

Michel grinned, and rolled them both over so that she was sitting on top of him. He pressed a fast, hard kiss to her lips, taking both of their breaths away again in the process. He’d just got finished fucking her, but already, with her shifting on top of his still semi-hard cock, he was ready again.

“That’s what I fucking love about you,” he said against her lips.

She got shit done.

Gabbie stilled. “Do you?”

Michel blinked, pulling away slightly. “What?”

“Love me?”