In the confinement of the bathroom, after taking my shower and stopping myself several times from tossing off, I give myself a much-needed pep talk.
Separate beds.
Just think of it like camp.
No funny business—to reiterate.
But then I remember our kiss. How delicious she tasted against my lips.
Fuck! Get out of here now and control yourself.
Exiting the bathroom, I plonk myself on my bed. I’m beat. The five-hour drive has exhausted me, and now, I have to lay in the same room, watched by cats and keep my hands off of Gabriella.
When the lights turn off, I joke, “Should I wear my noise-canceling headphones?”
She laughs.
Minutes later, she whispers, “Oliver?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you miss it… playing soccer?”
I sigh, eyes wide open listening to the sound of my heart accelerating faster.
“All the time. I never stop thinking about it.”
The truth has set itself free. I was born to play, and this trip, despite the possible outcome of not being able to repair my shoulder, is the biggest step I have taken to this day. There are no guarantees, and in the end, I could get hurt in more ways than one.
“Do you think you’ll be able to play again?”
“I pray every day some miracle will help to make me play again,” I say, barely above a whisper.
There’s silence, and I know her well enough to know she’s processing.
“Gabs?”
“Hmmm…” she murmurs.
“Are you scared to go back home?”
“Yeah, kind of. I’ve been having so much…” she pauses, searching for the right word, “… fun.”
“Me, too.”
“What about Bianca?”
“What about Bianca?” I retort.
“Are you guys… um… do you still—”
I quickly interrupt. “No. That was the first time I’ve heard from her since I left. We’re over. That boat has long sailed.”
“Oh,” she sighs, her voice becoming softer as the night falls, and the moonlight shines into the small room. “Olly?”
“Yes, Gabs?” I smile, admiring her affectionate name-calling.
“Maybe you might need those noise-canceling headphones.”
Holy shit. Did she just say what I think she said?
I lay back, listening intently as her blankets shuffle and the soft moans whimpering from across the room. I reach down in my shorts—my dick’s hard as fuck from the moment I laid in this bed. Pacing myself, my strokes are short, yet begin to increase as her moans become a string of pleasurable profanities, her climax just about to hit.
I could go over, thrust myself inside her and finally claim what I’ve been desperate to have from the moment I laid eyes on her at the bar. But if I want to keep her, stay on her good terms and not to lose her, I need to respect her space. She at least has given me this.
Her moans become almost pleas, and with every stroke, I mirror hers until she lets out a high-pitched breath, the sound alone causing my body to shudder and explode all over my hands and shorts. The darkness is illuminated by shining stars, bursting at the seams as the orgasmic rush ripples like waves.
Holy fucking shit.
My breathing stutters, the tingling sensation still palpitating through my body even minutes later. I ache to climb into her bed, kiss her goodnight, and slide myself inside her to satisfy my body’s cravings.
As our breaths even out amongst our unspoken words, I hear the shuffle of her blanket one more time.
“Olly?” she whispers.
“Yeah?”
“Good night.”
A smile widens on my face as I lay in the dark. “Good night, Gabriella.
I vow not to touch her again.
The torture of being second in her so-called ‘life’ is something I cannot live with. In her words, I’m selfish, arrogant, and won’t settle for second best.
I have to make her all mine.
I have no other choice.
Because I am in love with her.
Gabriella
Everything inside of me is coming apart.
The reality of being on a road trip to home is bringing back all the unwanted fears as we drive closer to Colorado. My head is like a ticking time bomb—numbers flashing in bright red, reminding me time is of the essence. Or else, boom—all over. I have bursts of memory lapses, all partly due to Oliver and his distracting persona. I crave these lapses. They relieve me from the constant pressure which becomes unbearable.
Then last night happened.
With a man, who never was supposed to be in the equation.
Inside that bedroom, I don’t know what came over me. That whole Bianca call threw me into a tailspin. For all I know, he is still seeing her because he has a life back home, a life I know nothing about because he purposely keeps it from me.
But he promised me nothing’s going on.
And I choose to believe him.
Lying there, beside him, knowing how much he’s wanting to take it further but respected my boundaries makes me crave him even more.
Oliver understands me, and I don’t have to play the good girl around him. He knows me better than anyone else, a realization which terrifies me.
I desperately wanted to climb into bed with him last night, feel his masculine touch all over my tense body. Yet, that guilt, the one which halts my every move, the one that consumes my conscience, can only give him so much.
It isn’t what he wants. I’m certain he wants to fuck me into oblivion.
But perhaps, what I gave him was more than I have ever given anyone else. The intimacy we shared, the private moment behind closed doors, it was an act many people, including myself, had somewhat felt ashamed of baring to another person.
It didn’t take me long—my body reacting to the movements he made in his bed. I pictured his beautiful hand wrapped around his cock, each stroke, and finally an orgasmic explosion.
In the light of day, the weight of my actions is standing right in front of me dressed in a pair of denim shorts, a Yankees cap, and a white Adidas tee. How can he look so irresistible, yet so casual at the same time?
Oliver
