Fallen (14 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Tuesday, March 16th

EMILY

The towel atop my head came undone as I flopped on my bed, my wet hair tumbling out. I grabbed the remote and turned on the flat screen, scooting back to lean against the massive sea of pillows. Flipping through the channels, I frowned. 

Inane sitcom with an obnoxious laugh track—
click
. Gunshots and a car chase—
click
. Gritty crime drama—
click
.

Moaning filled the room as my finger paused on the channel button, my breath catching. A man kneeled behind a woman, bent over on all fours, as he drilled into her doggy-style. Their naked bodies glistened with sweat, his taut muscles flexing as his slid in and out of her. 

My thighs clenched, the muscles in my core responding to the erotic sight before me. It’d been so long since I’d had a release of any kind…

God, I missed sex. I missed—

Stop. Don’t think about him now.

Guilt flooded me as I pushed all thoughts of Thomas from my head. Thinking about him was like a bucket of cold water to my libido, and as my body responded to the carnal scene unfolding in front of me, I realized how much I needed this right now. It’d been…Jesus, almost
three months
since I came last. I was seriously overdue.

Breathy moans regained my attention and I bit my lip, watching with rapt eyes as my heart rate increased. I bent my knees, the slit in my robe falling mid-thigh as I spread my legs. My hand went to my cleft, feeling its soft, velvety skin. I’d just shaved it for the first time in…a long-ass time. I’d forgotten how smooth it could be.

“Oh, yeah, baby. Harder!” The girl’s cries of pleasure, coupled with the image of his tongue running up her slit, had me reaching further down. My finger glided over the sensitive bud, becoming slick with my arousal, and I moaned. 

My body heated as my heart thundered, echoing in my ears like a drum. I paused touching myself long enough to undo the sash of my robe and shrug out of it. My hand returned to the apex of my thighs with increased vigor as my hips bucked, lost in pleasure.

The elevator doors slid open and I stepped into my foyer. The grocery bags crinkled as I rounded the corner, heading for the kitchen. 

“Em?” I called out, setting the sacks on the island. “I got you more of those chocolate granola bars you like.” 

I opened the fridge and put away the ground beef and milk, my movements slowing when I realized she hadn’t answered me. “Em?” 

I let the refrigerator door swing shut and left the kitchen, wandering down her hallway. Muffled voices came from within her room, and I stilled, listening.

“You like fucking my sweet little pussy?”

A male groaned. “You know it, baby. Your cunt’s so tight around my fat cock.”

I froze as every muscle in my body tensed. Emily was fucking some random guy in there, while I went out get her more of those goddamn granola bars she liked so much, like some pathetic asshole. My teeth grit together, my nostrils flaring. 

Jesus, the whole hallway was thick with the scent of her arousal. I’m surprised I didn’t smell it in the kitchen, for Christ’s sake. 

Their moans drifted out, along with the sound of skin slapping skin. My hands clenched into fists as I glared at her shut door. Was she doing this to get back at me for the girl I brought home last month?

She moaned, followed by a wet sucking sound as he said, “Yeah, baby, take it all. Suck my cock with that hot little mouth of yours.” 

Was this guy for real? Who the hell talked like that?

He grunted as he started to come, and I’d had enough. If
I
couldn’t bring girls home, then she sure as shit couldn’t bring anyone home either.

I barged into her room. “What the hell do you think you’re—”

Emily was on her back, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her puckered pink nipples tipped towards the ceiling. Knees bent and spread wide, her hand was between her thighs, rubbing fast circles on her clit.

I only caught a glimpse of this before she shrieked and hauled her robe over her. “Gabriel,
what the fuck
? Can’t you knock?”

“I, uh— I thought—” Movement caught my eye, and I turned to see two naked bodies writhing on her television screen. The guy’s grunts matched those I
thought
were coming from the dude nailing Em.

Turned out she’d just been watching porn. And masturbating to it. 

My cock was instantly hard, and my hands went to shield it. Her musky scent was all I could smell, and I wanted nothing more than to bury my face between her legs. I felt like a starving man standing before an all-you-can-eat buffet. 

Her bright red face, however, indicated that was probably a no-go. 

Damn it, how could I salvage this awkward situation? My first thought was to make a joke, and I smiled awkwardly as I said, “Do you need a hand?”

Part of me hoped she’d say yes, but I wasn’t surprised when she threw a pillow at me and screamed for me to get out instead.

I couldn’t stop picturing Emily, all spread out and wanting. It was seared into my memory. I’d lost count of how many times I’d fantasized about her like that—in the throes of passion—and the real thing was a thousand times better than anything I could’ve imagined.

I also couldn’t get over my gut reaction of wanting my mouth on her. Giving head was a selfless act, and I was a selfish bastard. It was simply not something I did. So why couldn’t I stop thinking about it? And why did it feel like, with Em, I’d get something out of it too? Like it was a privilege just to be able to do that for her.

I’d managed to avoid her for the rest of the night—mostly because I was busy jerking off in my bathroom—but my luck ran out when I bumped into her in the living room. She halted when she saw me, her face turning red as her eyes dropped.

My hand went to my neck, rubbing the back of my head as I thought of what to say. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t see anything, you know.”

Her eyes shot up to mine, full of ire. “Yes, you did.”

I tried to bite back my grin, and failed. “Yeah, I did. But I’m still sorry.” My smile faded when I thought back to it, to how angry I’d been, and how…jealous. “When I heard all the moaning and that guy’s voice, I thought… I thought maybe you’d brought some guy here to get back at me for that girl I brought home.”

Shock crossed her face. “I wouldn’t screw some stranger just to get back at you.”

Good one, douche. Way to make her feel like a whore. 

“No, I know,” I spluttered. “And I feel like an idiot for thinking that now, but at the time…”

She shook her head and crossed her arms. “Believe me, sex is the
last
thing on my mind these days.”

It seemed to be the
only
thing on my mind these days. 

“I didn’t sleep with her, by the way. I just…wanted you to know that.”

Her eyes narrowed, but her voice came out soft. “You didn’t?”

“I got really close, but…” I shrugged. “Something about it wasn’t right. Maybe I felt guilty for bringing her here while you were in the apartment, I don’t know.” 

But I
did
know, and that wasn’t it.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Thursday, May 13th

EMILY

“How about this one?”

I glanced at the book Gabriel held in his hand and rolled my eyes at the half-naked woman clutching the oiled, muscled chest of a faceless man. “No romance,” I muttered.

“Why not?” he asked, skimming through the pages. “You don’t want to read about quivering breasts and a throbbing manhood?”

“Nope,” I said succinctly, continuing to peruse the rows of books in the used bookstore we’d managed to find. 

It wasn’t the sex that bothered me, it was the happily-ever-after. I still couldn’t handle any of those.

Pushing the negativity from my mind, I inhaled deeply. “Don’t you love that smell?”

Gabriel cocked a brow. “That musty smell?”

I frowned and moved on to the horror section. “That book smell.” I loved that smell. I’d
missed
that smell. I used to read a ton before...
before
. Now, I was slowly getting back into the things I loved—minus romance novels.

I ran my fingers along the spines, smiling when I saw a familiar name. Stephen King. Perfect. He despised happily-ever-afters almost as much as I did.

My glee faded when I saw the back cover was in French. I picked up a random zombie book and saw that, too, was in French. 

I scowled and made a decidedly unlady-like scoff/weird throat noise and turned to Gabriel, shoving the books at him. “These aren’t in English!”

He blinked slowly, giving me the world’s most aggravating “duh” look.

“Oh, shut up,” I mumbled, brushing past him. They had to have a foreign section in here, right?

Gabriel set the books down and followed me around the corner. “Why don’t you just buy an iPad? Then you’ll have millions of books at your disposal and you won’t have to drag me to anymore bookstores.”

I snorted as we came upon the English books. “Do
you
want to buy one for me? ’Cause I sure can’t afford one. Not unless they take lap dances as payment.” Their selection was abysmal, but I couldn’t really fault them for it. That’d be like going into a Taco Bell and expecting them to sell burgers.

I glanced up at Gabriel and froze. Goddamn it, I knew that look. “Gabriel,
no
.”

“Yep.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the bookstore.

After a trip to the Apple store (and much bemoaning on my part), we were back at Gabriel’s, where I was busy fiddling with my new iPad. 

“So how do you like it?” Gabriel asked, sitting next to me on the couch. He craned his neck to see the screen and I showed him the carousel of dystopian and post-apocalyptic books I’d been looking through.

I sighed. “It’s awesome, like we both knew it would be.”

He laughed and set his feet on the coffee table. “Whoa, calm down. I can’t handle that much enthusiasm all at once.” 

I smiled and clutched the tablet to my chest, resting my head on Gabriel’s shoulder. “Thank you.” I peered up at him. “But you didn’t have to. You know that, right?”

He rolled the neck of his beer bottle between his fingers. “I know…” Clearing his throat, he took a swig from his longneck and turned on his trademark bravado. “You can pay me back with those lap dances you were talking about.”

I rolled my eyes and sat up, tapping the screen to exit the page. “Not in this lifetime.”

He grinned. “Then it’s a good thing we’ve got so many.”

Two hours and half a pizza later, we were sprawled out on the couch watching some hilariously horrible slasher movie from the ’80s. 

“Why?” I yelled at the TV. “
Why
do you guys have to hook up right now when there’s a killer on the loose?” I picked a piece of pepperoni off the untouched half of pizza on the coffee table, ignoring Gabriel’s grossed out face. He’d made no secret of his distaste for my “human food,” but what did he know? This greasy, processed shit was delicious. 

“You eat like a linebacker,” he muttered, leaning forward to pick up his beer. “I thought girls were supposed to eat salads, not half a pizza in one sitting.”

“It’s my Healer side. They have a crazy fast metabolism.” I shrugged. “I thought you
wanted
me to eat more?”

“I do, I just didn’t realize how much it’d cost. You’re burnin’ a hole in my bank account,” he said, grinning playfully.

I stuck my tongue out at him, and couldn’t help the smile that overcame me. I liked times like these, when Gabriel cut loose and let his playful side out. It was happening more and more, and I liked to think that I had something to do with it.

He took a sip of his beer and glanced at me, then frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” Chewing on my bottom lip, I paused as a startling realization occurred to me. “You’re, like, my best friend.” 

He picked at the label on his beer, studiously avoiding my stare. “You’re, like, my best friend, too.” The words were quiet, and he had the faintest hint of pink tingeing his cheeks. He was obviously rusty with heart-to-hearts, but I loved that he’d tried.

Scooting over, I rested my head on his shoulder and focused on the TV, to the naked couple who were about to get their asses handed to them. “Was there a law in the eighties that said you had to have a certain ratio of tits per movie or something?”

I felt Gabriel relax as he laughed, and I smiled, happy that my comment had served its purpose.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Friday, July 2nd

EMILY

Flipping through my racks and racks of clothes, I frowned. What does one even
wear
to a Feeder club?

My cheeks puffed out as I exhaled. Gabriel would most likely be wearing a suit tonight, so I grabbed the burgundy cocktail dress off the hanger. If
he
was going to dress up, then I would too.