Breaking Hollywood(22)

Gabe


I wake to the smell of apples and a warm body curled up against mine.

Speedy.

My arm is around her, her head on my shoulder, her arm resting on my  stomach, her leg slung over my left one. Her steady, even breaths tell  me she's sleeping.

I'm guessing she wouldn't be lying on me like this if she were awake.

The TV is still on, but the movie has long since finished. Gucci is  asleep at the bottom of the bed. I have no clue what time it is. But I  don't want to move in case I wake Speedy up.

I'm not ready to let her go just yet.

We must have fallen asleep while watching the film. Fuck knows how we  ended up lying together in this position, but fuck if I'm not happy  about it.

Having her in my arms with her body draped over mine like this … it's the  sweetest kind of hell. And it's a hell I'd happily spend an obscene  amount of time in.

Who knew holding a woman like this, without being inside her, could feel so good?

I've always gotten off and then got off with every woman I've slept with, no matter the circumstance.

No cuddling. And definitely no attachments.

Speedy is the first woman I've actually slept with without screwing first.

I glance down at her face.

Her eyes are closed, lashes brushing her cheekbones.

Fuck, she's pretty. Perfect. Beautiful.

I can't stop looking at her.

And, right now, I don't have to. I can freely stare at her without fear of being caught.         

     



 

Her rosy lips are full and plump, like she's just been kissed. And she should be kissed, all the time, by me.

Freckles that I've never noticed before dust the bridge of her pert  little nose. A tiny mole is near the corner of her right eye. A small  scar on her chin looks like a chicken pox mark.

My fingers itch to touch her. To see if her skin is as soft as it looks.

But I can't. I shouldn't.

But just one little touch can't hurt, right?

I lift a hand to her face and brush the tips of my fingers over her  cheek and to her forehead. I brush the stray strands of hair off her  face. Then, I move the backs of my fingers down her other cheek to her  jaw where I trace my fingertips along it, stopping near her mouth. My  thumb hovers dangerously close.

I can feel her warm breath on my skin.

I wonder how she tastes.

Fuck, I want to know so badly.

My mouth is dry with longing. Constant longing. And wanting her.

It's driving me insane.

Look how bad it's gotten. Like a total creeper, I'm touching up her face while she sleeps.

I withdraw my hand and force myself to look away. I take a deep breath.

"Gabe."

The word is so quietly spoken, I think I imagined it.

Until I look back to her and see her eyes are open.

And filled with need. They mirror my own.

God, I want her.

Her hand comes up and caresses my cheek.

"Ava." Her name comes out like a warning. A warning I don't mean.

She traces her fingertip across my lips, leaving a path of fire in her touch.

I cup her cheek and press my forehead to hers as I try to control my feelings.

"Kiss me," she whispers.

Those two words.

Two fucking words.

And I'm undone.

My mouth crashes onto hers, and she immediately opens for me on a gentle moan that I feel all the way down to my cock.

My tongue sweeps inside her mouth.

Just one taste. And that's it. I'll stop after one taste of her.

I pull the tie from her hair, and my fingers slip inside the silky strands. I angle her head, so I can kiss her deeper.

Her hand is on my chest, sliding up, moving over the T-shirt I really  wish I weren't wearing right now and around to the back of my neck. Her  leg shifts up mine.

With my other hand, I grab the back of her thigh and move her leg  higher. I can feel the heat from her pussy against my thigh, through her  clothes and mine.

I want to lick her, taste her, and hear her screaming my name.

I lick her mouth like I want to do to her pussy.

I'm burning. I'm an inferno. I'm out of control.

And I'm never out of control.

But, fuck, she feels good. Too good.

My tongue is plundering her mouth. My hand is moving higher up her  thigh, and those soft whimpers that she makes with each climb of my hand  are just fueling me on.

I don't know how to stop. If I can stop.

My cock is like granite in my shorts.

I want to fuck her. I want to do everything to her.

She moves closer, pushing herself against me. My hand leaves her thigh and glides up her waist.

She whimpers when my fingers graze the underside of her tit. Blood roars in my ears.

I cup her tit in my hand, skimming my thumb over her nipple.

She groans and presses her pussy against my thigh, trying to find friction.

I want her tits in my mouth. I want to lick and bite her nipples. Drive  her as crazy as she's been driving me these past couple of weeks.

Her hand moves down my chest. When she reaches the waistband of my shorts, I shudder and kiss her harder.

I want to feel her small hand around my cock.

But, if she touches me, I'll fuck her. I'm sure of it. I won't be able  to stop once that line has been crossed. Because, for some reason, I  have zero fucking control around her.

I need my control back.

Using gargantuan strength, I catch hold of her hand before it can slip around my dick, and I slow down our kiss to a stop.

Her eyes open, rejection and hurt lining them.

The last thing I want to do is hurt her. I can't hurt her. I won't hurt her.

I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss it.

"We can't … my foot," I say.

"Oh. Would it hurt if we … " She leaves the words hanging.

I nod in response.

It's not a total lie. It does hurt every time I come when I jack off to  thoughts of her, and it would probably hurt even more if I fucked her,  but it would be more than worth the pain.

That's not why I stopped.

I stopped because I can't fuck someone I pay a salary to.

I just can't.

But, because I'm a masochist and I just can't help myself, I kiss her one more time.

Just one more taste.

I softly kiss her. Loving the moan that hums from her mouth.

Then, I force myself to stop.

I pull back and wrap my arms around her. She snuggles into me, her head resting on my chest.         

     



 

I press a kiss to her forehead. "Night, Speedy," I whisper over her skin.

"Night, Hoppy."

I smile at her use of that stupid nickname, and then I stare up at the  ceiling, knowing I won't get a second of sleep for the rest of the  night.

Not after that. Not with her lying in my arms. And definitely not with me hating on myself for being so fucking weak.

A rule I've stuck to for close to a decade, broken, because I'm so desperate for this woman.

Well, at least I didn't fuck her. So, I guess I have that.

But I have to stay away from her from now on.

Says the man who still has her in his arms.

Tonight. I'll have tonight, and then tomorrow, things will go back to how they were.

She takes care of me while I'm stuck with this fucking thing on my leg, and I pay her a wage for doing so.

I'll go back to jacking off to thoughts of her. I'm definitely going to  need to jerk off after this. The chafing on my dick will be immense.

But there will be absolutely no more touching and definitely no more kissing while she works for me.

End of.





Ava


I wake to find Gucci lying asleep where Gabe was last night.

I glance at the clock to see it's nine thirty. It's not like me to sleep this late.

Sleeping with Gabe must have done it. I've never been so comfortable as I  was last night. Helps that his bed is the most comfortable bed ever,  but it was him. Being with him. In his arms.

And, holy crap, we kissed!

The memory slams into me, and a big goofy grin appears on my mouth.

I bury my face into the pillow, and I get a strong whiff of Gabe.

When I woke up last night to the feel of his hand touching my face, I  thought I was dreaming. Until I opened my eyes and looked at him.

And then I asked him to kiss me. I can't believe I was so bold!

But then he did, and oh my God …

It was everything and more than I'd thought it would be.

And I've thought a lot about Gabe kissing me. Especially since I've been  living here with him. Well, I've thought about more than just kissing.

Let's just say, my fingers have been busy in bed since I moved in here.

Gabe is an incredible kisser. I've never been kissed so thoroughly and with so much passion as he kissed me.

I've never felt more wanted.

Not even by Jeremy.

Jeremy is nothing compared to Gabe.

They're not even comparable.

Gabe is amazing. A jerk at times, but that's part of the charm. I like everything about him, including his assholish ways.

Actually, I more than like him. And I want him so very badly.

I was gutted that he stopped us last night before we could go any  further, but I understood completely. The last thing I want to do is  cause his foot any more damage than I already have.

I can wait to sleep with him.

If he wants to, that is.

But, if going by the boner he was sporting last night while kissing me, then I'd say he wants to.

Pushing the covers back, I climb out of his bed. Gucci lifts her head.

"Come on, girl. Toilet time."

She jumps off Gabe's bed and follows me out into the living room.

Gabe's out on the terrace.

My heart jumps at the sight of him, sitting on a chair, smoking a cigarette.

Gucci trots on ahead of me, out onto the terrace.

Gabe turns his head at the sound of her. Then, he glances up at me when I  walk out onto the terrace. But he barely looks at me before he moves  his eyes away and takes another drag of his cigarette.