“This was for you, Gabby. I’m okay. Really,” he rasped, trying like hell not to look as desperate as he felt.
“No, you’re not. But you will be.” Her eyes were kind, and he felt like the worst type of heel. Until she leaned back and unsnapped his jeans. “I can see your cat, Grady. He’s so hot. So hungry.”
He groaned. He could almost feel her touching him. Christ, he’d come in two seconds. How would that impress her?
The buttons undone, his fly parted, she pushed her hand beneath his jeans and underwear and gripped him.
“Oh fuck,” he whispered and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. “Gabby, I’m gonna come so hard. Take your hand away, baby. It’s okay. This was for you.”
She refused to listen to him as she pumped his thick cock. He watched her watching him teeter on the verge of climax. “Do it, Grady. Come for me.”
For her. Anything she wanted, he’d do. And then she rubbed the underside of his cockhead and licked her lips, and he lost his mind.
“Oh yeah. Gabby, baby. Fuck. ” He came hard, thick jets of come shooting over his belly and her hand. His orgasm lasted for what felt like forever, the release more than welcome, a testament to the power she held over him. She milked him dry and then let him go. But he didn’t want her to wipe him off.
He grabbed her hand and shoved it under her shirt. “Wipe it into your skin,” he commanded, his voice low and gravelly, his cat more than ready to come out and claim the hell out of her. “I want to smell me all over you.”
Her eyes wide, she let him wipe his semen over her belly. And then he remembered where his fingers had been. He held his hand up and opened his mouth. He sucked his fingers clean, memorizing her taste.
When he finished, he wiped his hand on his belly, mixing faint remnants of her scent and his come into his own skin. “Thank you, Gabby.” I love you, Gabby.
She nodded and rose on wobbly legs. She didn’t speak but cupped his chin with her hand. The tender moment lengthened between them. Then she left and closed the door of her bedroom behind her.
Trying to gather his thoughts, he stared down at his still semi-hard cock and wondered if he’d made things between them better or worse. Better, because she knew how good sex could be between them, or worse, because she’d learned on a lie.
Tired and too sated to care, he staggered to the bathroom, hastily cleaned himself and found her couch once more. He closed his eyes and dreamed about Gabby. But this time he knew her by scent and taste, and he carried her with him into tomorrow.
The next morning, the clock continued to tick. Gabby had been dithering by her bedroom door for an hour, wondering if Grady was still out there on the couch. She drew in a deep breath and let it out, knowing she had only herself to blame for the awkward situation in which she now found herself. That’s what you get when you take advantage of a man who’s just been dumped by the woman he loves, idiot.
Though he’d been with her every step of the way, she remembered how vulnerable she’d been when she’d gone through the same thing. Like she didn’t matter, wasn’t good enough. She’d have jumped at the chance for a handsome man to make her feel better, then lamented it the very next day. No, she didn’t fault him for being with her. If anything, she wanted to slap herself for not being a better friend, someone for him to lean on, not screw into oblivion.
She shivered, remembering how hard he’d been, how great those magical fingers and mouth of his had felt on her skin. How the hell could Joy choose Dean over Grady?
Knowing she couldn’t keep putting off the inevitable, she pushed open the door and braced herself, praying she could make it through the morning without going up in flames in embarrassment, or worse, dealing with an aggravated catamount with huge claws. Grady made one impressive, deadly feline.
But instead of the moody/angry/sad