Me: I’m bringing home dinner.* * *Gabby: You don’t have to. I’m not really that hungry.* * *Me: Too late. It’s already ordered. Be home in thirty.* * *Tossing my phone back into the cup holder, I close my eyes, resting my head back against the seat. Without effort, the feel of her body pressed to mine, the taste of her lips, and the sounds that pulled from deep within her chest assault me. I want her. I’ve always wanted her. We can be friends, best friends even, but we’re more than that. I want to be her friend, her lover, her confidant, her shelter in the storm. I want to be her everything.
Not long after I pull up to the house. All the lights are on, and warmth takes flight in my chest. The thought of coming home each night to Gabby is something I never knew I craved, not until this moment. I want it for more than just a few weeks, though. I want it for a lifetime.
“I’m coming for you, Gabs,” I murmur as I pull into the garage and climb out of the truck with our dinner in hand. I kick my shoes off in the mudroom and make my way to the kitchen. Gabby is standing at the island—plates, napkins, and two bottles of water are set out.
She was waiting for me.
She glances up and must take my expression wrong as she begins to explain, “I just thought since you picked up dinner, I could—” She nods toward the island. I don’t say a word. I set the bag down beside her. “I love that place,” she says, eyeing the bag.
I stand in front of her and cup her face in my hands. Her eyes capture mine and I can see the question behind them. Spreading my legs, I step closer, my body surrounding hers. “Let’s try this again,” I whisper before leaning in and pressing my lips to hers. I trace her lips with my tongue, dying for a taste and begging her to open for me all at the same time. “Gabby,” I growl, and that’s all it takes. Her name on my lips has hers parting and accepting my kiss. Her hands grip my wrists, but she doesn’t try to pull me away. No, her grip is holding me to her. I kiss her until I have no breath before pulling away and resting my forehead against hers.
“This—” I swallow, catching my breath. “This should have been our first kiss.” I kiss the tip of her nose and pull back. I don’t move from my spot in front of her. Instead, I put one arm around her waist, holding her to me, while the other starts pulling our dinner out of the bag.
“Chase.” Her soft, tentative voice meets my ears.
“Yeah, baby?” I look down at her, giving her my full attention.
Her eyes widen at my endearment, but she doesn’t comment. “What was that?”
“That was me saying hello.”
She sighs. “We can’t do this.”
“Why?” Food forgotten, I grip her hips and lift her up on the island. I step between her legs and wrap my arms around her. “Tell me why, Gabs.”
“There’s too much at stake.” She bites down on her bottom lip.
I nod. “You’re right, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means I want you. I’ve wanted you for far too long.” I confess what I’m feeling, but I keep most of my thoughts to myself. I don’t tell her that coming home to her is more than I could ever ask for. I don’t tell her that when I imagine my future, it’s her who’s beside me. She’s not ready to hear all that. Not yet.
“Chase,” she murmurs.
“Take a chance on us, Gabs. You and me.” She opens her mouth to speak, and I can tell by the look on her face, I’m not going to like what she has to say. “Dinner’s getting cold,” I rush out before she can shut me down.
“It smells delicious.”
I grab a box of chicken alfredo, her favorite, and mine as well. I pop open the lid and reach beside me, pulling a fork out of the drawer. Forking up a bite, I hold it up for her. “Open.”
“Chase, I can feed myself.” She rolls those beautiful green eyes at me, and I smile.
I nod. “Open,” I say again. I’m still standing between her thighs, not willing to lose my connection with her. With a heavy sigh, she opens her mouth and I feed her the first bite. “Good?”
Her hand comes up to cover her mouth while she chews. “So good,” she mumbles.
I fork up a huge bite for myself, then offer her another. I stand here and feed us both until the first box is empty. Without a word, I toss the empty box on the counter, and reach for the second, repeating the process. “Last bite,” I say, offering it to her. She opens for me, and I watch as her mouth closes over the fork. My cock is impossibly hard. Tossing the second empty container on the island, I place my hands on her hips and pull her to the edge of the counter. “Around my waist,” I tell her.