I’m mindless at this point, not able to concentrate on anything other than his hands working my dress up around my waist.
“We were just talking. Josie introduced us.”
His fingers finally reach their destination. He shoves my panties to the side and plunges two fingers deep. My pussy immediately clamps down and the invasion feels so good that I cry out. He covers my mouth with his, swallowing the rest of the sound.
“He was smiling at you. Looking at you. And I knew exactly what he was thinking. He wanted this. He wanted what’s mine.”
His fingers haven’t slowed down this entire time, plunging, retreating and then plunging again. Tears gather at the corners of my eyes. The pleasure is so intense, more so because it’s so sudden. Gabe is always so careful with me, spending time to slowly stoke my desire so that I’m desperate for it. But this is so raw, motivated by some dark emotion that’s driving him to conquer and claim. He’s claiming me and I love it.
“Shouldn’t be doing this here,” he mumbles. “But I need you to come. Need to feel it.”
His thumb circles my clit, pressing in exactly the right spot to set me off. His fingers slam into me again and I shake uncontrollably as the orgasm rolls through me. We stay like that, gasping together, breathing in each other’s air until he finally pulls his fingers free. The sudden sensation makes me shudder again. I tentatively swing my legs down and shimmy my skirt into place.
He leans down, his lips searching over my forehead and down my nose until he gives me a soft kiss. “I don’t want you to go home tonight. I want you with me. Always. Move in with me.”
My heart clenches. “Gabe, I can’t do that.”
“Why not? There’s not enough hours in the day for me to see you, be with you. I always want more. I will always want more of you, Sasha. I’m in love with you.”
It’s almost like an emotional punch. His words uncork an endless fountain of joy inside me.
“I love you, too. So much.”
He presses his forehead to mine. “Move in with me. I don’t want to spend another night without you.”
His words are convincing and I can feel my resolve wearing thin. But this is something that’s too big to compromise on. I was willing to bend by keeping things casual because I knew Gabe wasn’t ready for more than that. And I know that this is his way of trying to move forward. But living together without being married … I cringe thinking about what my parents would say. What they’d think.
I bury my face in his shoulder. I hate knowing that no matter what I decide, one of us will be hurt.
“I’ll think about it,” I promise. It seems to appease him because he gives me another soft kiss and then smoothes my hair back from my face. By the time he pulls open the door to the closet I feel like I’m presentable. On the outside at least.
Inside I’m a mess.
It’s not just about how I feel about Gabe. Based on feelings alone, I would give him anything. But I don’t know how long I could survive living with him under the strain of all that disapproval.
I have more in common with Josie than I thought.
One of the images from the exhibit comes to mind of a woman bent over backwards. I’ve bent a lot of my principles so far because I was sure that it would be worth the pain.
I’m just not sure how far I can bend before I break.
* * * * *
Curled up in my pajamas, I pull out a spiral notebook and start jotting down ideas. After all the sensuality of the art show, I’m determined to find ways to incorporate that into the club. Ever since my father told me his secret about the club, I've been researching it on the internet, hoping someone might have uploaded some old pictures of what it looked like.
I probably can't afford to make it look exactly like the old club but surely I can pull in a little sexy retro glamour. It would be so worth it just to see the look on my father's face. Part of me wishes I could find that charlatan who swindled him out of his money and force him to pay up. It makes me so angry that some criminal with no conscience stole my father's dream. I would love to be able to give a little piece of it back to him.
I write down all the things I think I can handle on one side of the paper and then all the stuff that I'm not sure about on the other. On the left I have entertainment and furniture. On the right I have taxes and payroll. Then I add insurance to the list. And marketing.
With a disgusted sound, I drop the pen. There are so many things that I have no idea about and all of those things are vital to starting a business. Maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to turn down Gabe's help. Even though I want to do this myself, he is really good at this kind of stuff. At times like these, I wish I had a partner. If Kay wasn't so busy recording and growing little mini-Eli's then I could ask her. I rest my head against the back of the couch.
When I wake, it's pitch black in the room. The television has a timer so it shuts off after a certain amount of inactivity. I stand in the dark room, padding in my bare feet back to my bedroom in the dark when I hear it. Scritch scritch scritch.
There it is again. A soft scratching sound. Then the loud click of the latch. Shock and fear race through me. Someone has just opened the back door.
I move backwards slowly, praying that none of the floorboards under my feet squeak and betray my position. All the times that Eli lectured me to set the alarm as soon as I get home run through my head. That always seemed so over the top so I usually set it right before I go to sleep. But now as I inch backward, praying that I can get to my room undetected, I curse my stubbornness. If I’d just listened to him then the silent alarm would have already alerted him that there was a problem.