Page 12 of Needing His Touch
“I’ve got not one fucking clue why you think that or who the girl and the duke are. I do know I’ll bust my ass to prove to you that you’re worth more than you think you are. That I’m worthy enough to be in your life, and that includes showing you in every possible way. The next ball I’m about to drop on you is your apartment is on the same property as my house.” I’m not sure if she saw it on our way in. The way it’s set up is off to the side, closer to the road. I knew Gramps wouldn’t want to feel like he was up in my business, and I was trying to give him a piece of his own area to feel like he’d still be in a home instead of an apartment that’s more than half of his house now.
“I kind of figured that since you said you built it for Mr. Bernie. What I’m confused about is why I’m staying here and why you want me to.” The grumbling in her stomach makes me pause. I was about to list off all the damn reasons why, start telling her, and then I’d show her the reason why.
“I see I still have work to do on making you aware how much you mean to me. We’ll get back to that, later.” My woman is hungry, and I’m going to get her fed before we dive into the heavy shit. You’re staying here because I want you here. Not only that, the power is also out at your place. When I built the apartment, I didn’t bother hooking it up to the home generator. Gramps could always come up here, but no fucking way are you staying in a cold-as-hell place when you can be herewith me. Now, I’m going to make us some food, and you’re going to make me a list of what you want from your place. Though, I like you in my clothes and slippers. So, I’m not opposed to not grabbing your clothes. I don’t have a spare toothbrush, and I know you asked for one. Okay?”
“I can always walk over and get what I need, Gabe.” Oh, this woman. It’s clear I’m going to have my work cut out for me.
“Not up for discussion, fairy. You write me a list while I’m cooking.” Carsynn’s chest rises. She’s about to say something, and I’m not about that. My head lowers, and I take her mouth with mine. I’m going to do my best to make her forget all the things she could do on her own. Those days are over, and when I feel the way her fingers press into my skin, I take that as my cue to deepen the kiss. My tongue slides along her lips. One little gasp is all I need to make my way inside her mouth. I drop my hand to her knee, my thumb sweeping the inside of her thigh, and I get what I want. My tongue gets the taste I’ve been after ever since I met my little fairy yesterday morning. Now that I’ve gotten what I want, I’m never going to stop kissing her to quiet the noise swirling in her head.
13
CARSYNN
I’m in a Gabe McCoy lust-induced fog. My lips still tingle from the first kiss before he cooked us grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. He refused my help, so I got to watch him the entire time. It wasn’t a bad deal. The feeling of laziness definitely set in. I’m not used to sleeping so much, nor am I used to sitting around and watching others.
Now, I’m reeling from our second kiss and looking out the window at Gabe’s masterpiece of a home. It’s beautiful with its real wood floors that creak here and there. The walls are a soft creamy color, a mixture of beige and coffee heavily loaded with creamer. The leather couches are a deep brown, look inviting in a way you can grab a blanket, curl up beneath it, and enjoy the roaring fireplace Gabe currently has on. I’m still in his shirt and slippers. The blanket he had lying on the couch is draped over my shoulders courtesy of the man I’m currently watching make a path through the snow with a machine. It won’t be much longer before I won’t be able to see much more of him through the snow being flung away from him.
“You have things to do besides stare at the man who is rattling your insides, Cars.” The blinds and curtains are open, courtesy of my nosy self. I wanted to keep my eyes on him for as long as possible. Worry seeped through my bones while I made the list. I was mortified when I handed it to him: toothbrush, bras, panties, a few pairs of pajamas, a few shirts, and leggings, along with my fluffy socks.
While he offered to pick up my things, I offered to work on dinner. There was no way I could sit on my ass and do nothing, even if he groaned under his breath that the doctor wants to video call later today to check in on me. And it’s a sad state of affairs when you have no car, thank you very much, snow and ice. No phone either because, again, the blizzard likes to kick me when I’m down. I mean, the car is one thing, but I just bought my phone, and now I’m going to have to drive or get a ride into town to replace it. A tremor runs through my body. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to face that curve along the highway again. Maybe I can order one online and not have to get behind the wheel of a car until winter is long gone.
I move away from the window, keeping the view open and unobscured. The heavy blanket slides off my shoulders while I’m walking toward the kitchen. When Gabe was inside and I told him I’d take care of dinner, I did some investigating of my own. The whole fridge and pantry are well stocked for someone who was out of town for weeks before this storm hit. I wonder if Mr. Bernie came up here and stocked everything when Gabe told him he was heading home. He had everything for a vegetable beef stew and biscuits. My years working at a restaurant and diner are coming in handy right about now. Especially with the dream of a kitchen Gabe has going on. My apartment has a nice kitchen, too, yet the thought of cooking for one person always seems silly. Plus, even if I made half of the batch I am today, it’d take over the majority of my freezer space, and then I’d have no room left for ice cream.
I’m about to head to the kitchen when I realize I’m going to need a jacket of some kind in order to cook. The long shirt I’m wearing, along with Gabe’s slippers, is doing an okay job, but not enough to keep warm, and I won’t ask him to kick up the thermostat again. I go to the mud room off the kitchen, looking to see if Gabe has a jacket or hoodie hanging up on the built-in coat rack. “Hmm.” I check but don’t find anything. When I walked him out the door, he put on his snow suit, boots, and a beanie. I didn’t think it’d be enough, but Gabe assured me he’d be fine. He’s a heater and would probably drip sweat by the time he was finished for the day. There’s nothing hanging up, but there was a basket of folded clothes when I walked by the laundry room. Maybe that will have something; if not, I’ll have to go into Gabe’s room and root around in his drawers or closet. I’d rather not do that even though he’ll be doing similar shortly.
“Ah-ha!” I find the laundry basket filled with clothes. I dig through the stack until I find a flannel. It’s not as thick as I’d like, which is why I also snatch a pair of socks. His slippers, while comfortable, are entirely too big and a tripping hazard when walking back and forth in the kitchen. I slide one arm into the dark black and red flannel shirt. It’s longer than the borrowed T-shirt, which is good because there is most definitely a draft trying to creep its way up my body. Once I have it on, I cuff the too-long sleeves, and then I cop a squat on the cold floor to put the socks on. I’m sure I look like a hot mess right now. This is as good as I can make it for the time being. My hair is a lost cause. There’s no fixing it until Gabe brings the toiletries I asked him to pick up. That leaves putting it in a low messy knot, wrapping the hair around itself and calling it good enough.
“Alright, let’s get to work, Carsynn. Gabe is going to come back hungry and needing something to warm him up.” I clap my hands together. My forearm isn’t hurting nearly as much. The doctor did, in fact, call Gabe on his phone. He wanted to see my wound and said it looked to be healing nicely already. Doctor Wade also told me I was lucky to walk away like I did. He’s not wrong about that. I’d like to think Gabe had a lot to do with that, him finding me when he did before the storm really started coming down, or I wouldn’t have survived. I know that more than anyone. I’ve got to get that out of my head. Those thoughts will only bring me down, and I’ve come too far to spiral downwards. I shake the memories away. It's time to keep myself busy. I walk back to the kitchen feeling warm and ready to take on the task of cooking. My eyes go from where I’m pulling things out of the fridge, doing a search to find everything I need to cook dinner, to the window where Gabe is. He’s still out there, working on clearing a path, now further along, and I feel better that my eyes are back on him. There’s no way I should be feeling this deeply for a man I’ve only met yesterday, Bernie talking him up a good game, and, of course, seeing the pictures he had plastered all over his walls. Still, I wasn’t prepared for Gabe McCoy, not like this. I move around the kitchen, stopping at the vintage radio and flipping it on, then turning the dial until there isn’t talk radio but instead an old country song. My body moves to the beat while I get lost in cooking. Last night may have been a mess, but today is a new day. And while I’m still a bit apprehensive about this thing between Gabe and me. I really do want to see where it leads.
14
GABE
“Carsynn, you good, fairy?” I ask as I stomp off my boots on the mat in the mudroom. I drop the bag of items on the built-in bench and start taking off my outerwear. It was cute the way she worried about me being too cold. I could have taken a layer or two off and probably would have if I didn’t have to go inside her cold-as-fuck house. Jesus, it was cold, really freaking cold, and when I saw what she had her thermostat set to before the power went out, I was ready to take my anger out on anything besides Carsynn. Those stupid rules the realtor had added in, it wouldn’t have mattered who it was. Your heat shouldn’t be set at sixty damn degrees in the dead of winter.
“Yeah, I’m in the kitchen.” I can hear another sound besides the stove, more lyrical, and I wonder if she’s got the television on. Gramps told me she wasn’t one for watching it a lot unless a game show was on that the two of them enjoyed competing against one another. I grab the bag after stripping my clothes down to just my pants. The bulky material needs to come off. It’s soaked and needs to dry out. I could grab a pair of sweatpants from the laundry, except I know my little fairy wouldn’t blink at me only wearing my boxer briefs. Carsynn likes to look at me as much as possible, and the feeling is fucking mutual.
“Dinner smells good. You been taking it easy with your forearm?” I ask as I walk into the kitchen. “Damn, fairy, you don’t need your clothes after all. Mine look a hell of a lot better on you than they ever did on me.” There isn’t but an inch of skin showing on her legs and a few inches of her forearm. It’s the lack of what she’s wearing underneath that has me fired up to feel her smooth skin, to slide my calloused hands up the outside of her thighs, my thumbs gliding along the insides, and feeling her body come to life beneath me.
“Gabe.” She peeks at me over her shoulder, amber eyes full of lust, and I’m moving my feet as fast as they can take me. My long strides help me along the way.
“Say it again, Carsynn.” Her eyebrows furrow, and I place the bag with her clothes, toiletries, and something else I found on her nightstand on the counter. It was face down, the pages curling up, and the cover was of a man embracing a woman with her dress half undone. It was the title that had me reaching for it. Imagine my surprise when I picked it up and read the first few lines. Carsynn may be a virgin, however, she definitely has no qualms about her sexuality and what she’s feeling, never mind what she likes to read.
“Say what?” she asks.
“My name. Say my name, fairy.” My hands cage her hips in their grasp. I feel her body come alive beneath my touch, face softening and body leaning back into me.
“Gabe.” Her voice has my dick perking up, imagining what it would sound like when I’m fucking her into my mattress. Maybe I’ll bend her over the bed, get down on my knees, and fuck her with my tongue before I take her with my cock. Her gaze goes back to the stove, and she places the lid on the Dutch oven and sets the heat on low. She wiggles and shifts the entire time, her ass doing nothing for my dick that’s hard as a rock whenever she’s near.
“I like the way you say my name.” I’ve got not one single problem telling her exactly what she does to me. My only worry is coming on too strong. “You gonna warm me up, baby?” My cold hands find her skin beneath her clothes, gliding up the outside of her legs.
“Gabe,” she repeats, her arms wrapping around my bare waist, unable to reach my shoulders. “Thank you for my things.” I can’t help it, not anymore. I need a piece of her, a taste of her, the feel of her wrapped around me.
“No problem, fairy.” Her breath hitches when my hands reach her upper thighs, my thumbs having a mind of their own and sweeping the insides of her legs along the way. It’s not until I reach her bare hips that my head tips forehead, eyes hooded with desire, that I take her mouth while picking her up. Whether she means to or it’s pure instinct, her legs wrap around my hips and her heated core hits my lower abdomen. I can feel her. Damn, nothing prepared me for what I’m about to take. “You good with this?” I ask. She nods. That’s not good enough. “Need the words, Carsynn, want to hear them come from your lips.” It takes her a moment. She keeps rocking her hips, coating my stomach with wetness. I’m about to see exactly how she looks, how she tastes, and how she feels once I get my answer.
“I’m okay with this. Um, well, you know I’m a virgin, and when I said I’m a virgin, I mean I’ve never done anything besides kiss a boy before.”
“Don’t talk about him, Carsynn. I’m hanging by a thread, and the thought of someone kissing what’s mine has me ready to breathe fire.” While I know we both have a past, that doesn’t mean I want to hear about it. Carsynn must think I’m funny, since a laugh escapes her lips while she tightens her legs around my hips. “It’s not funny, fairy. The fucker may have been your first kiss, but I’ll be your last.”