The Duality Principle (12 page)

“Want you,” she breathed. “Now.”

She reached over the wide expanse of his shoulders and clawed at his tank until her palms met the ropy muscles of his back. She tried to pull the shirt off him, but she couldn’t with his mouth still driving her crazy. He stood up and quickly ripped the tank from his body. Gabriella greedily raked her nails down his torso, licking her lips as she traced the soft trail of hair that disappeared inside his jeans. She kissed him then, as hard as he’d kissed her, and fumbled with his belt, trying to tear it open.

Connor moaned into her mouth and yanked her hands away, silver clanging as he did the job for her. “God, you’re so hot. I can’t fucking stand it.”

He stripped down his jeans and boxers, freeing his cock. It was so smooth, so thick and long. She wanted to wrap her fingers around it, to watch his eyes roll back and his jaw go slack, to take him in her mouth and tease him until he was out of his mind too. His boots thumped to the floor as he kicked them off and stepped out of his pants before lunging forward again. He claimed her mouth, teeth clashing against hers as he fumbled with something in between their bodies.

Condom.

The thought registered, and Connor broke the kiss, looking down as he ripped the foil package open. Gabriella whimpered and rocked her hips against the table.

“Jesus, I love the sounds you make,” he said. “Lie down. Hands above your head.”

She complied, raising her arms up as she watched him sheath himself. When he’d rolled the condom all the way down, he wrapped one hand around each of her thighs and jerked her toward him until her legs were split open obscenely wide on either side of his hips. But he still didn’t give her what she wanted. No, he simply slid that swollen, ridged head back and forth over her throbbing clit, never once breaking eye contact.

“You wanted someone wild and reckless?” he asked. “You wanted to be desperate, shaking and begging?”

She mewled, nodding wildly at the words he was repeating from her email.

“Are you desperate for me now, Gabby? Are you shaking?”

She couldn’t reply, not with his cock stroking over her like that, so close to where she needed it. Her head sank back on its stem, but Connor gathered her hair in one hand and forced her to look up at him.

“Beg me.”

God, she loved it. The command in his voice. The way his lip curled. The unwavering look in his eyes. The feeling of being completely carried away. Even as she was ready to scream in frustration, she knew he was everything she’d ever wanted.

“Please,
please
, fuck me, Connor. I can’t take it anymore.”

He let go of her hair and drew his hips back, looking down as he lined himself up, then stopped and glanced at her thigh. With a grin, he leaned in and whispered, “I found your butterfly, baby girl.”

Before she could answer, Connor fucked into her in one deep, long thrust. Her head sank back as she gave into the fullness, the burning stretch, that sweet hot ache. He trembled and held himself still for a moment, pinching his eyes shut. She watched the muscles in his neck and shoulders bunch and cord, that perfect face of his melting into a grimace of pleasure.

“Gabby, fuck. You feel fucking amazing.”

He pulled out an inch at a time, unbearably slow. She dug her heels into his ass, trying to stop him, to coax him back inside her, but he shook his head with a grin, his strength dominating as he found his composure. He took his time until she could only feel the tip of him, then eased into her pussy again. Out slowly, back in. Gabriella writhed beneath him, her hips curving up toward his deliberate, unhurried thrusts. Then he did something different, changed his angle somehow and rubbed against a spot inside her that made her absolutely sure she was going to die.

“Oh, God…do that again.”

He did, and it was almost too much. A third time and she was begging him not to stop. Connor groaned, his forehead bowed and pressed against her neck. She heard something catch in his breathing, like he’d almost just given in, but he lifted himself up, bracketing her between his arms and picking up his pace, fucking her hard and fast, just as he’d promised. He drove her to the edge and kept her there, and she couldn’t take another second.

She brought a hand down between her thighs and started to stroke. She could only imagine what she looked like, mouth open, eyes glazed, defiant and triumphant. But Connor knocked her hand away and drew her arm back up over her head.

“Don’t you dare. I’m the one who’s gonna make you scream.”

He licked the pad of his thumb and brought it down to her clit, rubbing it in swift little circles.

“Oh please.” She clutched his forearms as her legs lifted and started to shake, but even with white-hot pleasure bearing down on her, she couldn’t let go.

“Come on. Show me, Gabby. Show me what a freaky little slut
you can be. Let me see what you look like when you come.”

His words reached inside her, a balm over everything that had felt so broken and wrong. It was the key to unlocking that latch, and she gave in, releasing the dirty, sexual side to her she’d kept locked up for so long.

“Connor…Connor, fuck—” Her voice broke as her orgasm took hold with a shattering force she couldn’t control, didn’t want to control, her whole body thrashing, head slamming back on the table.

“That’s right,” he murmured. “There you go.”

The sultry approval in his voice and the relentless circling of his thumb sent her into a surprising second and even harder release, and she bucked up against him, crying out until her throat went raspy from her screams.

Connor gave in then—she felt it as the breath rushed out of him, his thrusts turning erratic and jerky. He slid his arms under her until his fingers dug into her shoulders and pounded fiercely into her, burying his face against her neck. He stilled and choked out a gasp, moaning her name, and the sound of it nearly got her started all over again.

Calmed but short of breath, Connor looked up at her. His hair was damp on his forehead, his eyes hooded.

“Still want to dump me?”

Panting, she shook her head. “No.”

“Good. Because I’m not nearly finished with you yet.”

Chapter Twelve

Hours later, they somehow made it up to her bedroom, and Gabriella felt sore and used in a way she never had before. After they’d recovered from their activities in the dining room, Connor led her outside, carrying her when she’d squealed in protest. Logically, there was no reason she should have objected. After all, this was what she had been waiting for.

He’d laid her down in the grass that sat in the shadow of her grandmother’s rose bushes and kissed every inch of her, her soft sighs getting carried away on the breeze. Connor reverently caressed the butterfly drawn on her hip, running his lips over it before sliding down to lap at where she was still surprisingly ready for more.

His tongue searched out the places on her body that were freshly fucked, and she grew hungry for the feel of him in her mouth. Pulling off her glasses, she tugged him by his shoulders until he’d rotated around, his torso over her, his knees on either side of her head. He lowered himself slowly, cock probing her mouth with gentle thrusts, but Gabriella wanted none of that. She grabbed him by the hips and drew him deep into her throat, relishing the groan that vibrated through him. She lost her rhythm for a second when he started working his magic with his mouth, needing a second to absorb the sensation that barreled through her before she could concentrate on him again.

They worked each other like that, sounds of pleasure meshing with birdsong and the rustling breeze until they were both shuddering in the sun-warmed grass.

After that, he took her back inside and asked her where the shower was.

In the cocoon of her steam-filled bathroom, Connor washed the traces of brown and green from her skin and then folded them both into a large towel, drying them off. She couldn’t find a T-shirt of her own big enough for him, but he was content going commando under her blanket. The idea of him naked in her bed would have been enough to drive her crazy, but their morning adventures had left her satisfied.

For the time being.

Gabriella donned a tank top and a pair of panties, putting her glasses back on before settling down next to him. He splayed one arm out across her pillow, palm up in a silent invitation. It somehow seemed more intimate than all the things they’d done. She rested her head on his chest and stretched her body out alongside his. When he started playing with her hair, it was like her whole body went limp. She’d never felt so relaxed, so safe, and all this with her rider, the man she’d fantasized about all summer. She wrapped her arms around him and sighed.

“You okay, Gabby?”

She peeked up at him. “Why do you call me that?”

His hand paused in her hair. “It seemed to fit you better.”

It was an answer that made sense. She could be content with that. She smiled and stared at the dip above his upper lip until she could no longer resist. She reached up, tentative at first, and then stroked the tip of her finger over it. The taunting little indentation was just as smooth as she imagined.

He laughed and captured her finger in his hand. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve wanted to touch that spot above your lip since we met. It’s been tormenting me, wondering what it felt like.”

“And was it all you were hoping for?”

Everything and more.

“It was.”

But there was another thing that had been torturing her since he rolled up on her driveway. As if he could sense the shift in her mood, he let her finger go. She took the opportunity to trace it along his tattoo.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a motorcycle? I’ve only been staring at you the whole summer.” She thought back to their first date, and how her rider had nearly run her over before she got there. Her eyes went wide. “Oh my God, that was
you
on the street by the coffee shop.”

Connor laughed. His boyish smile returned.

“You weren’t the only one watching someone,” he said. “I sped up so I could see you before I had to go on this awful blind date. I really didn’t want to go, but I’m glad I gave in to Jamie’s badgering.” He caressed her cheek. “It looks like she knew what she was doing.”

“Wait—” She sat up, everything clicking into place. “Jamie knows you have a bike.”

“Yeah…”

“And she knew you’d been watching me.”

He shrugged, blushing slightly. “I probably wasn’t as good at hiding it as I’d hoped.”

Gabriella pinched her eyes shut, mouth dropping open as she shook her head. “I’m going to
kill
her.” But she said it with laugher, amazed that Jamie not only never judged her, but had known what she’d wanted all along.

When she opened her eyes, Connor was giving her a look that made her pretty sure he thought she was going crazy. “Am I missing something?”

“No, it’s just…” She stared at him, realization coming over her like the slow rush of the tide. It was crazy—the knowledge that he’d been her rider all along, watching her, wanting her. “Why didn’t you tell me that was you when you got there? I would have jumped you right there in the coffee shop.”

He laughed again, albeit a little more quietly, then swallowed and looked away, his jaw set tight. “I didn’t want you to know. It’s like I told you. I haven’t always been the nicest guy.”

He was so beautiful, those long eyelashes of his fanning over his cheeks, but she could feel the tension rolling off him. She snuggled closer and he pulled her against him, wrapping both arms around her. It seemed like he needed her near before he said anything more, like she was his lifeline, somehow.

“I don’t have a good rep in this town, Gabby. I’ve been in trouble with the law. Done some seriously stupid shit. It’s only in the past few years that I’ve cleaned up my act, and that’s because my grandparents threatened holy hell on me if I didn’t.”

“I’m guessing we’re talking more than just a few bad nights with the county sheriff.”

Connor nodded. “I was so mad when my mom left. I took it out on everyone around me. I didn’t care who I hurt. And, I, uh…I don’t have the best track record with dating, either. I’ve done a lot of fucked up stuff without thinking. Slept with a lot of girls when I shouldn’t have. Probably broken a few hearts, I don’t know. I’ve never stuck around long enough with any of them to find out.”

She laughed, amazed at just how much the two of them had in common. It must have seemed odd to him, because he angled his head and gave her that look again. Embarrassment gripped her for a moment, but after what they’d just shared, after how dirty they were together, she decided to give total honesty a go.

“I broke up with my last boyfriend because he couldn’t find my clit.”

Connor barked out a laugh. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Every time it was like he was trying to map out the Andes, searching around with this look of utter concentration on his face. It was awful.”

He laughed again, and this time she joined him. Then she shook her head and sighed.

“My parents wanted me to marry him. My mom was pissed when I broke it off. But it seems like no matter what I’ve done, all they’ve ever cared about is my ability to get a husband who looks good on paper, not about what makes me happy. It’s part of why we aren’t close. That and because they’ve just cut out my heart and put it on the market.”

Connor frowned, his brow furrowed once again in confusion. She hadn’t mentioned the impending sale to him before, unwilling to open up about something that cut so deep. But he’d accepted her so completely, drawn back the curtains over the part of herself she’d been trying to bury. Set free the sexual side that others had scorned. He’d shared the painful details of his own past too. There was no reason she couldn’t do the same.

She could trust him, with her body and her heart.

“They’re selling this house,” she told him. “It’s gonna kill me to let it go.”

His frown deepened. “That’s awful. Is there anything you can do to stop them?”

“I don’t know.” She’d played with the idea of going to a lawyer, but she didn’t think she had a leg to stand on. “I wish they understood what this place means to me. When I was with Nana, I could just
be
, you know? No expectations. No disappointments. I never felt like that anywhere else. With my parents, my friends growing up, my boyfriends—no one seemed to get me. I always felt like this…” she shrugged, “…outcast. I hated trying to be who they wanted me to be, like I was forcing myself into a skin that didn’t fit.”

Connor reached up and ran his index finger over her earring.

“Is that why you did this?” His other hand stroked her ink. “And this?”

She grinned sheepishly. “I’m a little bit of a rebel too, you know.”

“I’m getting the idea.” He kissed her, his lips a gentle brush over hers. “So, we’re both rebels. Could be a dangerous combination.”

“Could be.” She settled back down into the crook of his arm. “I wish you’d told me who you were from the start. You don’t know how many fantasies I’ve had about being on the back of that bike with you. I could have been your riding buddy.” She turned to face him, remembering another reason she’d watched him so intently. “Hey, why do you always ride alone? I mean, don’t you biker guys come in packs?”

The awkward twist of his lips made her think she’d struck a chord she should have avoided.

“Dean doesn’t ride. His truck is his baby. And Mikey would probably fall off one.” Connor looked like he was trying to smile, but it wasn’t working. He gave up. “My dad was the one who got me into bikes, before he left. And I guess it’s easier to be alone. That way no one can ever get close to me again.” He shook his head. “Cliché, I know.”

Gabriella reached up and cupped his cheek. Connor glanced down at her hand with the strangest look on his face, like he didn’t know how to react. Then he kissed her palm and brought it to his chest.

“I was sure if I let you know the real me, you’d run in the other direction. Every time we were together, I thought I was just screwing up all over again. Taking things too far, and—”

Gabriella looked up at him, her hand still pressed over his heart. “And?”

He took a breath. “And I worried if we went too far, and then you got word about what a bad kid I was, you’d see the same shit the rest of this town does.”

She pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “What did you think I would see?”

He lowered his chin and set his mouth in a firm line. “That I’m a loser. A fucked-up orphan who fixes up bikes and plays with computers, and doesn’t have a shot in hell at being more.”

His words broke her heart. She hated that he saw himself that way, when in such a short time being with him, she’d seen so much more to him than that.

“That’s not who you are. It’s not what I see,” she said softly. “You can be the rebel who rides the bike, the programmer, the nature lover who spouts philosophy, and the man who does the filthiest things to me bare-ass naked in the backyard.”

She smiled, hoping the last line would draw a laugh from him, but Connor was silent when he met her eyes. His stare was so intense it took her breath away.

“What?” she asked.

“You can be more than one thing too, you know.”

Gabriella’s chest started to constrict, all her old ghosts coming forward to haunt her mind, her worries about herself, her life, her thesis, but what he said next chased them all away.

“Those things you said in your email? About having to be one way for everyone else? That’s bullshit. You’re amazing just how you are. You can be the mathematician and the hiker, the brilliant M.I.T. student and the girl I fuck on dining room tables.”

She laughed, but it was a sound of pain and relief, one that started in her lungs and broke somewhere around her heart. Connor stroked her cheek and wiped away the tear that streaked down her face.

“You can be all those things, Gabby. Duality isn’t a bad thing. It’s the different sides of us that make us who we are. It makes us whole.”

She gazed at him, at this man who in a week made everything she’d ever doubted about herself disappear. She blinked, feeling the different pieces of her life fall into place, and suddenly, she knew what she had to do. Wriggling out of his embrace, she hopped up off the bed and reached for her computer, sitting back down to open it on her knees. Connor sat up behind her.

“What are you doing?”

“Emailing my advisor. I need to tell him I’m reversing the direction of my thesis.”

“You are?”

She turned over his shoulder to see his perfect face blooming into a grin. “Yeah, I think I am.”

She couldn’t disprove the Duality Principle anymore. It made no sense. It was illogical to even try. Because she could
be both A and B, could love both the rose and
its thorns. She could be the butterfly and break out of the ugly casing the caterpillar wove, letting love and nature turn her into something beautiful. She could be Gabby Evans, the mathematician and the freaky slut, and give in to the dual sides of her being. She could be true to who she was, just as her grandmother said she should, and let both sides shine.

Proving that duality existed was undeniable—she couldn’t refute it anymore—especially as Connor hooked his finger in her shirt and drew her back down beside him into her bed.