GABRIELLA
Jake followed me into my condo. The sun had set well over an hour ago, and the pink hue in the sky painted everything in my condo the same color. It reflected off my white marble countertops, danced in the mirrored surface of my coffee table, and caught the crystal sun catchers dangling in front of my living-room window. I loved my home at this time of night, and I loved it even more with Jake in it.
He closed and locked my door behind us.
I went to the fridge, where I’d put a bottle of white wine to chill for myself this evening, and poured us each a glass.
He stood by, waiting.
I gave him his glass and sipped mine.
“I didn’t expect this,” he said.
“Me neither.”
Then abruptly, he said, “I just got off a plane two hours before I came here.”
“Really? Where did you go?”
“Texas.”
My heart dropped. “You went home?”
“I went to talk to my dad.”
“Alone? I would have gone with you. I could have—”
He smiled, put a finger to my lips, and shook his head. “I wasn’t alone. My brother went with me. And I know you would have come, but this was something we had to do together as brothers. I realized that I was always going to default to blaming my old man. I had to face him head on. So, I did. I told him I was never going back there, that I didn’t want the ranch, and that he’d failed all of us.”
“How did he take it?”
“Badly.”
“Good.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. It felt liberating.”
“I’m proud of you.”
He searched my eyes. This was the Jake I knew and loved. His walls were down. He was letting me all the way in, and I could tell it was easy for him this time. He wanted this as badly as I did.
He cupped my cheek. “Nobody has ever fought for me like you, Gabi.”
I leaned into his touch. “I will always fight for you. Even if you’re wrong. I’ll have your back in public, and I’ll defend you, but as soon as we’re in the car and driving home, I’ll point out all the ways you were wrong.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “I’d expect nothing less.”
I set my wine down and took his hand. The wine could wait. I needed to feel him pressed up against me—the heat of his skin, his kiss, and the pressure of him hard inside me. I led him down the hall to my bedroom, which was also awash in pink light. He waited while I drew the curtains closed, and I turned to him in the dim light of my room. Slowly, I began undressing, first stepping out of my heels, then my jeans. I pulled my shirt off over my head and stood before him in my bra and panties.
“I need you,” I whispered.
His shirt came off, too. He pulled a condom out of his pocket before taking off his pants and tossing them on the bed. In nothing but his boxers, he came toward me, gathered me up in his arms, walked me backward, and pinned me to the wall to kiss me. His tongue pressed between my lips. I tasted wine in his kiss and plunged my fingers into his hair. His cock grew hard pressed up against me.
I hooked a leg around his to hold myself up. Somewhere outside, one of my neighbors was grilling something that smelled delicious. My stomach growled.
Jake chuckled. “You weren’t lying when you told me you were always hungry.”
“We can eat later.”