There are five indentations on either cheek where she gripped me and urged me forward as I fucked her hard enough to break the bed.
“It isn’t even that bad,” I say, clearly lying.
She covers her mouth with her hand, and I think she is going to cry, but she takes me by surprise, a damn wild card, and laughs. “Oh God, why didn’t you tell me I was hurting you? I never want to hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me” I pull her to my chest and wrap my arms around her petite body. “You turn me on. I liked it.”
“Really?” She bats her dark lashes up at me, suddenly a bit shy.
“Really.” I sway us to the music of the water hitting against the tile floor from the shower. “It’s nothing like what he did to you, baby. You are nothing like him, if that’s what you are thinking.” I frame her face with my hands and gently tuck her head back to look at me. “You did this in passion. You didn’t do this to inflict pain on me.”
Her eyes widen with horror. “I would never hurt you. I—”
“I know. I know. I just want you to know there is a difference. And if you don’t do this every time we have sex, I’ll think I’m doing something wrong.”
“So now I have to do it?” She doesn’t believe me, at least, that is what her eyes say, loud and clear.
“It’s a must. You’re just going to have to deal,” I say on a long sigh, as if it’s an inevitable thing she has to accept. I hold a hand over my heart, faking my concern. “I’ll live to see another day.”
“Stop it.” Her laughter echoes off the walls of the bathroom. I give her a long, too long, of a hug and kiss her forehead.
“I’ll never stop if it means making you smile like that, baby. Come on; let’s shower before the guys throw a fit and Heaven comes back.”
“What do you think they want to talk about?”
I have a feeling. And I know I’m not going to like it.
Chapter Eighteen
GABRIELLA
As we walk out of the room hand in hand, our skin still hot from the shower, my head is reeling from the last few days. I can’t believe Sebastian and I finally had sex, good sex, like there is no way it could get better. Not that I would know, but I’ve known what bad is, and this is good.
So good.
“Well, finally.”
Heaven’s voice grabs my attention as we enter the living room. There is a woman in the kitchen cooking who isn’t Quinn. I'm not sure who that is. I haven’t seen her since I’ve been here. She is older, fifties maybe, with colored red hair that is fried from not taking care of it properly. She wears too much eye makeup to look young again. Whatever she is cooking smells fantastic.
Jaxon is sitting on the couch, legs crossed, with his head against the cushion. He is napping. Heaven is throwing popcorn in the air and catching it with his mouth. Owen plucks the keyboard with his fingers. Slowly, one key at a time with his big, sausage-sized fingers. His brows are worried, and his tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth with every tap of the keyboard. He is trying. That is what matters.
Grayson sits on the other end of the couch, shirtless, but he has a patch on his side. I still have no idea what happened to them. It is the one question I’ve been meaning to ask, but I keep getting sidetracked with Sebastian.
He likes to distract me with his kiss. I don’t mind. Like he said, we have a lot of making up to do.
“Grayson, put on a shirt.”
“Why?” Grayson makes his pecs dance, and then he winks at me. “Afraid your pretty girlfriend will realize what she’s missing?”
“Dancing pecs aren’t my thing, sorry,” I say with a joking smile, then I sit on the floor, taking Sebastian with me.
“I’m watching you, shirtless,” Sebastian gestures his fingers from his eyes to Grayson.
“I’m shaking in my shirtless suit.”
“Nice!” Heaven holds up his hand for a high-five and without looking, Grayson meets his hand.
These guys have been around each other for a while. That much is obvious.
“Where is Quinn? She needs to be here too,” Owen says, making those keys his bitch as he plucks away.
“She’s puking,” Jaxon winces. “Whoever called it morning sickness is a liar. It’s anytime-of-the-day-sickness. It’s killing her.”