Gabriel Ch. 01byTangledinYou©
Nicole is putting away dishes from breakfast, but she can barely see what she's doing. Her movements are mechanical, her breathing steady, and her eyes are focused on the cabinet straight ahead of her. All of these things are mechanisms used to defend against the relentless throbbing his presence incites. He's leaning against the kitchen counter, nonchalant and seemingly carefree as he drinks a glass of water. But she knows better. Every movement, every gesture seems to be yet another way to bring him closer to her, to impose the heat and the masculine scent of him on her senses. Or is she just remembering the night before with such vivid clarity, how it hadn't been enough and ended too hastily for her to be sated? No, this is the present, the desire of here and now summoning her, telling her that as soon as her sister leaves the apartment there will be no buffer between them.
He's been inching closer ever since her older sister, Jackie, started to gather up the last of her things before she heads off to work. Jackie kisses her forehead and mentions something about them going out later tonight as she grabs a muffin to go off the counter. She's been feeling so guilty that she has to work so many hours while Nicole is in town to visit. If it had been any other day, yesterday even, she might have been listening and excited to hear that her sister and close friend was going to make time for her before she headed back home. But this is today, and in the last twenty four hours everything has been turned upside down because of him.
Because of her little secret.
She mutters monosyllabic phrases, sounding like a zombie to her own ears as Jackie exits the apartment. Her footsteps fade down the hall. There is the distant ding of the elevator, the shuffle of closing doors. She is alone now. And all of a sudden he is less than a foot away, watching her silently. She's down to putting away her last cup. The TV buzzes with the weather forecast and the air conditioner hums loudly on high. She wonders if she'll even make it out of the apartment today. She wonders if she'll get to feel the heat of the day as the sun rises higher, or feel the clingy humidity sticking to her skin, pinning her clothes to her body with sweat. Just the thought of sweat makes her lick her lips, and she thinks she can almost taste his. Her fingers linger inside of the cabinet, slipping down to the counter when she finally feels the heat of his body behind her.
An altogether different kind of heat wave sweeps over her senses, and the announcer's voice disappears into the background along with the hum of cold, processed air. Everything revolves around him now. His hands are resting on either side of her body on the counter top; his nose is against her hair, breathing in her scent. She knows her hair smells of her shampoo, like lilacs, and she wonders distantly under the throbbing of arousal in her body if he likes the smell. He answers her silent question when he inhales deeply and moans. He slowly sweeps it away from her shoulder, his fingers feeling like sex incarnate as they stroke across her skin.
"Shouldn't you be going to work, too," she asks, trying to block out the quiet, the sound of his breath against her skin as he leans down and presses his lips to the sweet spot below her ear. He hooks his tongue through one of the many silver hoops lining her right ear and tugs lightly.
"I took off today," he answers, and his deep, raspy timbre sends an involuntary shiver through her body, as do the feel of his soft lips just barely caressing her skin.
She melts just a little more inside when he says, "Just for you."
His fingers stroke down the indent of her back, caressing her spine through the flimsy fabric of her shirt, and she arches both into and away from his touch. The quick, shuddery movement causes her ass to press against the hard length hiding within his jeans. She closes her eyes; the steady breaths she was forcing herself to take are faltering. They stutter out of her parted lips now, picking up speed to keep in line with her pounding heart.
"Why?" she asks. As if she doesn't know the answer. As if her body isn't vibrating with the knowledge of what he has in store for her. She feels so silly trying to combat the beating of her heart with useless words.
"Last night wasn't nearly enough."
His hands curve around and the speed with which they grasp her breasts is daunting and frightening. He presses her back firmly against the hard lines of his chest and abs, kneading her soft, full breasts in rhythmic circles. And it makes her so wet she has to clench her thighs against the powerful rush of her own arousal.
"That means we've got all day," he whispers, "hours and hours and hours, to see how much of a dirty girl you really are, Nicole."
He squeezes her breasts hard, making her gasp, and she swears she can feel him smiling against her hair. He pinches her nipples twirling them between his thumb and forefinger, pulling them away from her body until a throaty moan tumbles out of her mouth.
"You're gonna be a dirty girl for me, aren't you?"
"Yes," she says without hesitation, and she's not sure if it's his hands on her aching breasts, or his usually quiet and sweet demeanor melting away under his desire that undoes her. Gabriel was never like this before. Or was he? Maybe she just wasn't paying attention before. Maybe she was too caught up in seeing him the way she wanted to, in imagining him the way she wanted him to be for all those years she had carried a torch.
The fantasy had nothing on the reality. She found that out yesterday, that torturous and crazy day that started it all. Her body is shaking against the weight of what she knows now. Gabriel is sweet and quiet. But there is another side that she has only glimpsed. She's ready to see more. She's ready to see if there is another side to her too. She reaches behind her, between their bodies, and cups the hard cock that was rubbing insistently against her round ass only moments before. She squeezes hard, knowing now that's how he likes it, and the sound of his raspy groan confirms it.
"Good," he whispers, and all too soon he is releasing her body. He doesn't step away from the counter though. He stays behind her, consuming her with the heat and the smell of him, possessing her with his words as he says, "You can start by turning around."
She does. She meets the chocolate brown of his eyes with her own as they stare down the upward tilt of his nose. Her eyes devour the full sensuous curve of his lips, the small indent in his strong chin, and his soft, dark brown hair. The heat of the summer and genetics conspire to give his skin the tanned color of coffee with lots of cream. His skin reminds her of coffee flavored ice cream, her favorite kind, and she can't help but swirl her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she imagines tasting him. She can't tear her eyes away from his face, though she knows that if she could she would find long limbs covered in thick muscle. Under his t-shirt and jeans she would find those twin tribal tattoos swirling and jabbing over the sides of his torso, ending in sharp jagged points at the cut of his hips. She would find the hot, tan length of his cock jutting up from a nest of brown curls, just waiting to be sucked, and strong thighs corded with muscle for her to hold onto. He's obviously thinking the same thing. It's in his eyes, clear as day. But when he says the words, all doubt and all thoughts of the girl that was still scared, that would have protested, quietly shuffle backwards into the dark recesses of her mind.
"Get on your knees," he says.
Gabriel's voice is quiet, just like she's used to it being. It's the hunger and the slight dare to protest under the quiet that is new, that excites her beyond reason.
She licks her lips, her eyes never leaving his as her body slowly slides down the counter and her bare knees touch the cool tiles of the floor.
This was always the worst part of visiting Jackie. The waiting during the day until she got home and they could go out and get drunk was like torture. Her sister had promised to take off of work this time around so they could really enjoy the week ahead, but that plan had vanished when she got promoted a few months ago and her workload increased. So Nicole woke up that morning on the couch, which was pulling double duty as her makeshift bed, to the sound of everyone getting ready for work. She forced herself to fall back asleep but that only lasted for about an hour, and then she was wide awake. She sat up rubbing her eyes, then huffed and stared around at the empty apartment. She couldn't think of anything fun to do by herself that early in the morning, and she didn't know the city as well as she should, having seen most of it at night through the haze of too much alcohol. So she showered and dressed and tried to pass the time without drowning in a sea of boredom.
It didn't work as well as she had hoped.
She watched TV for all of two hours before she started to realize why people worked during the day. Three hundred channels and not a fucking thing on but People's Court, daytime soaps, and movies she had already seen. And Maury Povich. That was absolutely the last straw. She turned to a music video channel just to fill the place with some noise and picked at the contents of the refrigerator. A bowl of grapes and a string of the hottest music videos of the moment kept her distracted for another hour or so before restlessness and boredom took over yet again. The clock said it was eleven in the morning and she was already suffering from cabin fever after just one day in town. It was at that moment she decided to get in touch with her rather dormant adventurous spirit, thinking that walking around town aimlessly had to be better than this. She grabbed a skirt and a tank top out of her suitcase next to the couch and headed to the bathroom to change.
She donned a white tank and white and blue checkered pleated skirt quickly, sweeping her dark hair up into a ponytail as she left the bathroom and headed down the hallway. She realized that she left her clothes on the edge of the tub, which Jackie hated and always had to remind her not to do, and as she went back to get them her eyes drifted over the room closest to the bathroom.
She paused, her eyes flitting over the slightly closed door and the bed within. She had been in there once or twice when Gabriel had a new CD for her to download, or a book he recommended she read. He moved in a little over a year ago when Jackie and her boyfriend Ian had to get rid of their last roommate. He had almost set the couch on fire when he invited his loser friends over to get high. That guy had been crass, sloppy, and late on the rent more than a few times. Gabriel was none of those things. He had a relatively decent job at an employment recruiting firm while he saved up money to play music full time and get his own place. He tried to keep his messes inside his space, though he wasn't usually around much to make any. And if he did smoke he had yet to set anything on fire.
It was a strange thing. She remembered meeting him, and she knew that she liked him from that moment on. But she couldn't pinpoint the specifics, as if he always been there, always just been around floating in her fantasies. He put all the guys she dated to shame and had served as the image she used to relieve sexual tension more times than she could count. In her mind he was tender and sweet, touching her skin reverently, laying gentle kisses all over her body. He would take his time making her wet, unlike the last asshole she had gone out with who thought a few licks and a dry finger was all that was required before he could stick it in. Gabriel would know better, would ask her if she was ready and then ease himself in carefully. He would tell her he had been waiting so long for this moment as he stroked her into a frenzy, making her come over and over again with the power of his strong body and gentle words.
Just the thought of it made her body shiver and before she knew it, she was pushing open the door and stepping inside of his personal space. Her body hummed just thinking about how he slept in that bed, the sheets rumpled and unmade from when he woke earlier that morning. She thought of the glimpse she caught of him when he came out of the shower. Those tattoos stood out red and black against the sides of his v-shaped torso, the towel riding low on his narrow hips. Thank goodness he had been oblivious to the pair of dark eyes surveying him from over the edge of the couch. There would have been no hiding the look of almost feral lust directed at him if he had. Instead he had walked into this room and closed the door, and her mind wrapped around the delicious image of him striping away that towel to reveal the hidden parts of his body that she would pay good money to see.
Now she was standing where he had been when he closed that door. She let her hand run over the dresser as she walked quietly inside, her fingers tapping over his brush, his comb, the deodorant he used. She wrapped her fingers around the bottle of cologne he used sparingly and opened it, breathing in half of his intoxicating scent. Her pussy pulsed at the familiar smell, and her mind transported her back to the brief, chaste hug he had given her yesterday when she arrived. It was everything she could do not to nuzzle her nose into the crook of his neck and lick at the salt of his tan skin.
She put the cap back on, careful to place the bottle back where it belonged, and let her eyes survey the rest of the room. Beside the dresser was a pretty nice entertainment center, only to be rivaled by the one in the living room, and on the other side of that was his bookshelf. She had nearly creamed her panties when she found out it wasn't just for show, that he did in fact read when he got the chance and that they shared similar taste in books. A basket of dirty laundry sat in the corner beside the bookshelf, though some of his clothes were strewn about the floor and over the edge of his bed. The blinds were partially open and sunlight streaked through, glittery trails of dust dancing within the streams of golden light. It lightened up the hardwood floor and left the far corner in shadow. That's where he kept a ridiculously huge rack of CDs and his propped up guitar. A few posters of his favorite musicians lined the walls as well as mementos from shows he and his band played.
Below those posters was the bed, which was simple. It had metal rungs for the headboard with white sheets and a steel grey comforter. She could still see the indent of his body in the mattress, the curve in the center of the pillow where he rested his head each night. On either side of the bed were small tables with a few drawers each, where pictures of his family and friends rested. She was tempted to open up those drawers and see what he kept in them, but she resisted. She didn't intend to go snooping through his things. All she wanted to do was be in his space, to see the side of him that she wasn't usually allowed to see, at least not for long periods of time. Instead she swept her hands over the sheets, letting her legs brush against them where they drooped onto the floor haphazardly.
She licked her lips, wondering as she brought her knee up onto the bed what it must be like to be a girl in this bed with him. Did he sleep with a lot of girls? She knew of at least one girl when he first moved in, his ex-girlfriend Marta. At the time she asked herself what the fuck kind of name was Marta? In this case it was the type of name that a gorgeous half Indian, half Spanish girl would have, the kind with long dark hair, golden, almond shaped eyes and a tall, lithe frame with curves in the all the right places. Her skin was rich toffee to Nicole's milk chocolate with red undertones, her height and build making Nicole feel like an overly curvy dwarf, even if she was average in terms of height, and her curves were welcomed by plenty. Looking at Marta had made her feel like the twenty year old girl she was then, instead of the woman she had hoped Gabriel would see. She was exotic and yet strangely accessible, like Taj Mahal in blue jeans, and it physically hurt to know that a woman so different from her could capture her crush's attention.
They seemed like the perfect couple until they broke up. She apparently was ready for more of a commitment, and ready for him to give up music in favor of taking care of her. Gabriel was ready for her not to be his girlfriend instead.
So what kind of girl did he sleep with now? She only got to visit her sister occasionally during breaks from school, so she never got to see exactly what kind of girl besides Marta could make Gabriel take a second look. She brought her other knee onto the bed resting on all fours. What would it be like to have him lying in this bed next to her, his hips just barely covered by these sheets the way they were with that towel this morning, his eyes looking at her the way they had looked at Marta? She crawled closer to the center of the bed, smiling seductively at the phantom Gabriel, pretending she wasn't just crawling towards the cold indent of his body, when her knee landed hard on something tucked under the sheets. The sound of the TV turning on drew her attention to the screen.
Her mouth dropped, her eyes widened.
So did the eyes and mouth of the girl who was getting pounded to within an inch of her life on the screen. The TV was on mute so she couldn't hear, but she could guess at the screams of ecstasy escaping her throat as the guy on screen spread her legs wide and thrust his substantial sized cock into her like a jackhammer. He leaned over, his hand around her throat as he smacked a bobbing breast and took her faster and harder.
Nicole felt her pussy spasm at the sight playing out in front of her paralyzed body. She had seen porn, had sought it out in fact in between boyfriends, and especially when she was with that last horribly inept guy. But she had never seen two people so into it before, so caught up in the movement of their bodies, thrashing and bucking as they tried to capture a real life orgasm. Her breath came out in increasingly short bursts, her thighs clenching and her ass starting to wiggle as her pussy sought out more friction. She watched as the guy bent over and grabbed the pretty brunettes face, whispering something through gritted teeth. His arm made a sharp movement off camera that made the girl nod and bite her lip. He was smacking her ass she realized and when he did it again, when the girl's baby blues rolled back in her head, Nicole finally moved, coming out of her spell enough to find the remote under the folds of fabric.
"OH GOD! FUCK ME, FUCK ME HARDER!!!"
Her head jerked back at the sound of the girl's voice filling the quiet room. If she was faking it, then she was very good at her job. The pace he set looked punishing and every thrust made a wet slapping sound that permeated Gabriel's room.
"You like that don't you," the guy said in between sharp gasps of his own. "Fucking slut! Tell me you like it!"
"I like it! Oh, I love it!"
She was rapt over the way his cock seemed to fill and impale her completely, the way her body shuddered with every thrust. She was slamming her eyes shut, and Nicole realized that she was about to see a girl really come on camera from the most brutal fucking she had ever witnessed.
"You coming on my cock, you little slut? Huh?" he growled over her mouth. "You gonna come for me all over my fucking cock?"
Yes, she was. All over it. She was jerking and practically speaking in tongues, and without thinking, Nicole reached between her legs and rubbed her fingertips over the wet spot on her panties, her eyes rapt over the two people fucking like animals on the screen. Her fingers circled the pool of damp cotton, pressing it into her throbbing slit while she knelt on all fours on her crush's bed. The sounds of hardcore fucking filled every corner of the room, slithering over her skin, making each movement of her probing fingers more and more frantic. Before she knew it she was lifting the remote, rewinding to the part she had accidentally clicked on so that she could benefit fully from the images emblazoned in her retina.