Love Love (13 page)

My nerves manage to get the best of me
as I make my way over to the W Hotel. I’m not biting my nails this
time, but I’m cracking my knuckles which I’ll admit is kind of
gross, and straightening my clothes. Silently, I’m giving myself a
sexual pep talk; it’s not working. My insides are twisting and I’m
starting to sweat, but I need this desperately. My brain needs to
fall silent.

Passing through to the
elevators, I’m met by a couple of stares. That’s a good sign. I
must be worth staring at. Fran has me wearing a navy blue halter
dress and apparently it meets with the approval of random
strangers. I make my way up to the twenty-seventh floor, then stand
frozen in the hallway as I stare at the door near the end. I
recall
The Shining
and half expect blood to pour from the walls. Not a good
visual when you’re about to have sex. Pausing, I roll my shoulders,
hold my head up high, and hope my legs will carry me far enough
before giving out.

Dane opens the door and his eyes move
up and down the length of my body. “You look spectacular, Gabby.
Come on in.”

“
Thanks,” I say, still not
understanding why I’m so nervous. I mean, I’ve had sex before, but
there’s something about Dane and I just can’t put my finger on
it.

He gestures with his hand for me to
walk in further, and I do. “Would you like a drink?” he asks with
his back turned to the bar, ice cubes clinking against a
glass.

“
Sure,” I respond, about to
ask for a lemon drop. I think better of it. “I’ll have a martini
with an olive.”

Dane turns around, a look of surprise
on his face. “Sure, coming right up.”

As he makes the drinks, I’m taking in
the room. It’s ridiculously large, easily four times the size of my
apartment. There’s a huge king-size bed covered in very expensive
sheets, a sitting area with a plush couch and two matching wingback
chairs, and a space where the bar is that has a flat screen
television mounted on the wall. As long as there are Swedish Fish
on the room service menu, I could totally live here.

Dane brings over our drinks, escorts
me to the table, and pulls out my chair.

“
Thank you.”

I see his eyes move over my cleavage
and quickly take a couple big sips of my martini.

He stares at my lips as he speaks. “I
hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of ordering us
capellini primavera.”

My mouth is starting to feel dry.
“Yes, that’s fine, thanks.”

There’s a knock at the door and then a
man’s voice. “Room service.”

Dane gets up to answer it and his
fingers graze my bare shoulder, sending shockwaves to my toes. The
guy rolls in the cart with our dinner and Dane gives him a sizeable
tip. He walks out one happy dude.

As soon as the door shuts,
Dane lunges for me, pulling my body tightly against him. He forces
my hands behind me as he leans in and pushes his wet tongue into my
mouth. The teasing way he strokes it tells me he’s done this a
million times before.
I’m sure he
has
. I push the thought out of my mind as
he leaves my lips and moves down to coat my neck with blistering
kisses, sucking on my warm, supple skin. His hot breath fans my
throat like small gusts of wind as his hands travel greedily down
my body, squeezing and kneading my breasts through the fine
material of my dress. My nipples harden in response. I draw in a
breath when I feel his erection pushing between my
thighs.

It’s now or never, and my body can’t
wait a second longer. I shove the dress down my legs, leaving me
incredibly vulnerable and open to his wandering eyes; eyes that
showcase an undeniable hunger, an emotion reflected in my
own.

“
You’re so fucking
beautiful,” he breathes as his shirt and pants follow suit and
scatter to the floor. His arms sweep under my knees and he carries
me to the oversized bed, but not before I reach around and make
quick work of the strap on my bra. The thin satin falls from my
arms and his fingers play with the tender peaks of my nipples. He
draws one into his mouth and the tingling sensation makes me cry
out. His lips continues to explore while his hands lower my panties
to the floor, baring me completely. When he pushes back up, he
whispers, “I want to fuck you so badly, Gabby.”

His words inflame my desire and I wrap
my arms around his neck, grabbing him hard enough to feel his
growing arousal. He pushes me down on the bed and quickly rids
himself of his boxer shorts, exposing his rather large erection.
“Put your hands on me.”

Gripping him firmly, I move my hand
lightly up and down his hard length until he gasps, climbing over
my body like an animal overtaking its prey. I pull him inside of me
and he begins bucking in and out, while blowing rapid, heavy
breaths.

Loud moans erupt from my
mouth as my body matches his pulsating rhythm. His forehead is
beading with sweat and his body dripping with desire as the smell
of our lust fills the air. As our breathing becomes more erratic,
he holds my hips tightly and continues pounding into me until we
both find our release.
Jesus
.

When we’re finally sated and our
breathing slows, Dane lifts his green emeralds and glares at me
wickedly. “That was fucking hot, Gabby. You’re
incredible.”

“
Hmmmm” is all I can manage
at the moment, because as far as sex goes, yeah, it was pretty
amazing.

It’s just after one a.m. by the time I
get home. Fran’s leaning against the kitchen counter with her hands
on her hips. I smile. Of course she waited up for me. She couldn’t
help herself.

“
Well?!” Geez, she’s like a
Doberman.

“
Can I get in the door
first?”

“
No. Let’s have
it.”

I string one long sentence together.
“We had mind blowing sex and he ravaged me in ways I never thought
possible, and he has a seriously hot body and a really
big...”

“
Oh my God! I just
knew
he had a giant
cock!”

“
FRAN!” I gasp.

“
What?”

“
Yes, it was huge, okay,
and there’s something else, too. He’s a bit of a dirty
talker.”

“
Hot damn, Gabby! You’ve
hit the freaking jackpot! Plus, the dirty talk just upped his
hotness by a thousand percent. Wait!” she blurts with a raised
eyebrow. “Did you really have dinner, or was the whole dinner thing
just a front to get you into bed?”

I try to give her one of those wicked
looks she always gives me. “Let’s just say I’m
starving.”

She flips her hair back and saunters
toward her room. “Good. Now I can go to bed. You’ve given me some
good material to work with.”

***

The
next few weeks fly by and my routine continues to be, well…routine.
The consistency helps me cope, but, at the same time, bores the
shit out of me. My job is going well. Dane and I have been seeing,
I mean screwing, each other periodically. Brad and I have been
hanging out at the coffee shop a lot. I’ve been getting there
earlier in the mornings so we have more time to chat, and we’ve
gone to a movie or two. Fran and I are doing what we always do.
Most of the time, though, I just feel like a shell. I’m pretty sure
if someone bumped into me, I’d shatter into a million
pieces.

Fran has been getting earfuls of
sordid sex details and enjoying every minute of it. Apparently,
she’s enjoying every minute of Kyle too. They seem to be getting on
well and it makes me happy. I’ve been getting to know Kyle since
he’s been hanging out at our apartment a lot more, and I have to
say I completely misjudged him. I made assumptions when we met
based on his job, and I was way off. He couldn’t be sweeter to
Fran, and in fact, every Friday she comes home to a delivery of
lilies, her favorite flower. I like the way he wants to take care
of her, too. She hasn’t had much of that in her life aside from her
mom and me, and she needs it. I’m definitely keeping my fingers
crossed on this one.

Today has dragged a bit, weekend or
not, and I’m ready to go home for a bath and some serious nesting
under my goose down comforter. But when I push open the door to the
apartment, I find Fran on the sofa, crying. I run to her and cup
her wet cheeks in my hands. “Fran, what’s wrong? What
happened?”

The tears are sliding furiously down
her face and I’m worried. This isn’t like Fran. I pull her close to
me and just hold her. After a few minutes, she pulls back. “My mom
just called. My dad contacted her again, pressing her for my
information. He told her he’s changed. He’s not going to let this
go until he finds me, Gabby.”

“
Fran, listen to me. You’re
not that little girl anymore. He can’t hurt you. I won’t let him
hurt you, I promise.”

She looks at me with lifeless green
eyes. She doesn’t seem panicked or scared, more resigned. It’s
shattering to see my strong, independent Fran brought to her knees
by the possibility of seeing her father.

“
That’s just it, Gabby.
Whenever I even think about my dad, I am that little girl. I don’t
want to see him again. I can’t see him.”

“
So you won’t,” I say with
a fierce determination.

I help Fran into her jammies and she
climbs into bed with me. I hold her all night long, and watch her
as she sleeps. Her ebony hair sprawled across the pillow, her long,
dark eyelashes hovering on her face. So beautiful, but so sad. Just
a vulnerable little girl who only ever wanted what every little
girl wants…a father who will love her and protect her against the
horrors of the world, not create them.

***

Saturday morning I awake to a sleeping Fran. There’s not a
hint of her past lining her face, only peace. That’s what I wish
for her. As I watch her, I think of the struggle she’s had to
endure over the years and my issues seem so small in
comparison.

I pull on my jeans, a t-shirt, my red
Converse, and then grab my iPod. Leaving Fran a quick note on the
kitchen counter, I slip in my earbuds and jam to “Candy Girl” by
New Edition while I suck on a Twizzler. I’ve got the perfect plan;
subway, fancy coffee, and those special chocolate donuts with
sprinkles that Fran loves so much.