Brawl (25 page)

“I’m going to hold you to that promise, Hooligan.”

As is her way, she surprises me once more, ripping the wind out from underneath my sails, sending me further head over heels, and dumping my expectations on their head. Pressing my mouth against hers, I swing her from the railing and back to her feet. “I can’t wait for midnight. I need to bury myself in you. Now.”

I smack her ass, even though Gabbi doesn’t need telling twice. Pulling her skirt down, she runs for her bedroom. I’m hot on her heels, eager and ready for what tonight brings.

We meet next to the bed, our gazes assessing and hungry, the cadence of our breathing lost as we pant in unison. The past two months has been leading to this very moment. The importance of tonight is clear to both of us. The impact it’s going to have on us at a fundamental level—as a couple and as individuals—impossible to deny. For the first time in years, I’m ready to hand part of my soul to another woman.

And, Gabbi is about to put her trust in a man.
Going against every instinct she possesses. Ignoring every painful lesson that she’s learnt in her short life.

My hands need to touch her. My mouth needs to taste her. My cock needs to feel her.

“Hooligan?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know how good I’m going to be at this.”

“We can muddle through together. It’s been a long fucking time for me too.”

Hands on her shoulders, I push her onto her back on the bed. Ripping my shirt down the middle, buttons flying in all directions with my impatience, I toe my shoes off at the same time, before pulling my pants down. Gabbi is a matching whirlwind of activity, kicking her sandals off and sitting up so she can undress.

I should be savoring this. I should be taking my time to reveal every inch of creamy skin, worshipping each delectable morsel as it’s exposed to my greedy eyes. However, this mad scramble feels authentic. The desperation, the need that refuses to abate, is all-consuming. There’ll be time for slow and sweet later.

Moving over Gabbi, I press her into the mattress with my heavy frame. Bare skin pressed against bare skin, there’s nothing between us for the first time. My cock knows where he wants to be, jutting from my hips and making himself at home between her strong thighs.

My girl wraps her arms around my neck, drawing me closer and nipping at my bottom lip. Lifting her hips, she pushes her core against my erection. She feels scorching hot against me.

“I’m going to explode if you don’t do something soon,” Gabbi moans as she arches her back. Dipping my head, I suck her right nipple into my mouth, running my teeth around it. She rewards me with another groan.

“All in good time. Be patient.”

“Hooligan,” she whines. “The last week’s been foreplay. I want the good stuff tonight.”

Reaching between us, she takes hold of my cock and works it up and down as well as she can from her cramped position. Rubbing the head against her mound, she tells me what she wants with her actions. I get the message loud and clear. Knocking her hand out of the way, I press my thumb against her clit while pushing my index finger into her canal. She’s drenched; wet and waiting for me to make her mine.

Angling my body over Gabbi’s, I fist my cock and lead him toward the prize. He’s primed and ready to go, twitching with anticipation. Hell, he was ready to go two months ago. At this point of time, he’d dance his way inside her gorgeous body if he had his own pair of legs.

Running my gaze from Gabbi’s pussy up to her flushed face, I’m greeted by amber eyes that gleam with eagerness. She bites her bottom lip, the edges curling into a smile, her unblinking stare maintaining our connection. I pause, the tip of my cock pressed against her core and wait for all of the reasons why this is wrong—why I shouldn’t do this—to hit me.
They don’t.
There’s nothing, but a sense of purpose and the realization that the past three years of hell were all worth it because they led me to this moment.

To Gabbi.

It’s with that thought that I slide my dick into Gabbi, inch by glorious inch, until I’m sheathed within her. Her eyes widen, and she throws her head back when she arches beneath me. Her hands fall free from my neck, fisting the sheets on either side of us, as I begin slowly thrusting within her. Her walls clench around me, trying to draw me further into her body, a tiny gasp falling from her lips with every upward stroke.

When Gabbi wraps one leg around my waist, digging her heel into my ass, and titling her hips so I bottom out inside her, I quicken my pace. She matches me, move for move, thrust for thrust, her enjoyment becoming more vocal with each passing minute.

My hands on either side of her face, I lower my head and kiss her. It’s a kiss that promises so much—more than it should at this early point in our relationship—but that doesn’t make it any less sincere. My desire overwhelms me, the control I’ve been struggling to maintain, abandoning me. I’d expected to need time to remember how to do this, time to adjust to pushing my cock into someone other than Mari, but I haven’t. This is like coming home for the second time, leaving me with one thought echoing around my head.
How fucking lucky am I?
Two perfect women—perfectly similar, yet totally different all at once—both made for me. One my first love; the other my salvation on earth and my second chance.

Curling an arm under one of Gabbi’s shoulders, I let my passion run free, driving myself into her with greater intent. She’s no match for my superior power and size as I take control of her. Our love making turns into a battle; my cock impaling her, moving her up the bed with each stroke, a passionate brawl that leaves us breathless, sweat dripping from our panting bodies, my groaning mingling with Gabbi’s cries of pleasure.

Her pussy clamps down on my dick, signaling her impending orgasm, so I mash my thumb against her clit and increase my thrusts until she’s screaming and flooding my cock with her release. I follow, my orgasm filling her, ripping every ounce of air from my lungs and rendering me blind for a second with its intensity.

Fucking, forgot how good this feels.
The connection with your matching half. The endorphin rush. The toe-curling climax that imbues every atom of your body with pure ecstasy.

Slumping to the side, I bring Gabbi with me, my softening cock still inside her. She’s gasping for air, slight shudders overtaking her frame at regular intervals. Her languid posture and the obvious aftereffects make me feel like king of the fucking world.

“Worth the wait?”

“Mmm hmm,” she mumbles.

Burying my face in her hair, I inhale her scent, before chuckling when she groans her way through another aftershock. Pulling her closer, I hold her as tight as I can to me. If I could melt us into one person, it still wouldn’t feel close enough to me.

The clock on her bedside cupboard reads one minute past midnight. She’s eighteen, a legal adult at last.

“Happy birthday.”

“
Thank you.
If being eighteen continues like it started, I’m in for the best bloody year ever. My legs are still shaking.”

Yep. I’m definitely, King of the World tonight.

Gabbi

H
and-in-hand with Hooligan, I walk into my childhood home. So much has changed since the last time I set foot in here that I feel as if I’m entering a foreign land. Not that I’m the same person, either. After three years of hell, I suppose it’s naive of me to expect anything to feel the same just because Dad has decided he’s coming home.

“Gabbi,” Zali sneers when we walk into the kitchen. Her eyes are red-rimmed, her lips swollen, loathing in her glare. Running her eyes over Hooligan, her lip curls in disgust and she rolls her eyes when she sees that we are holding hands. “Here to ruin my life some more? Dad kicked Devon out when he came to see me this morning. And, now he’s broken up with me.”

“That’s enough, Zali.” Dad walks into the room with Cooper following him. When he sees me, a huge grin covers his face and he runs full pelt in my direction, throwing his arms around my legs and burying his head in my stomach.

“Is it time to go home, Gabbi?” he asks, tiny hands clutching at my T-shirt. “I don’t like this house.”

Guilt surges within me, overcoming me like that wave at the beach that hits when you’re least expecting it, taking out your knees, and sending you tumbling underwater. While I was making love with Hooligan last night, enjoying myself and feeling care-free for the first time in a long time, Cooper was here without me, missing me; lost and lonely.

Hooligan’s hand presses between my shoulders blades; the weight offering support and stopping me from giving into the desire to blame myself for my obviously unhappy little brother. “We need to speak to Dad first, then we’ll see.”

A shake of head is his only answer.

“It’ll be all right. You’ll see, bucko.”

Putting my hands under his arms after I reassure him, I lift him, settling him on my hip. Hooligan reaches over and taps him lightly under the chin. Cooper smiles at him, some of the worry in his eyes dying.

Dad clears his throat, a weird glint in his eye as he looks between me, Cooper, and Hooligan. It dawns on me what has him unsettled. The three of us look like a family. The adoring parents and their son, which has been the case for the past week. My man has been there for us in ways that nobody else has for a long time. Even when I was avoiding him, he took care of us with his sensible gifts and constant reminders that he was waiting for me.

“Why doesn’t everyone take a seat? We have a lot to discuss,” my father breaks the silence that’s deafening the room.

Once we’re all settled at the dining table; Cooper on my lap with Hooligan next to us with his arm stretched across the back of my seat, Dad facing me, and Zali slumped at the head of the table with her long legs balanced on the edge, making a show of inspecting her nails, Dad begins speaking. “Zali has moved home. Her
stay
with Devon has come to an end and I’ll be meeting with her boss to discuss whether she continues her traineeship at the gym. She’s informed me that it’s not her ultimate ambition, but rather something she felt pushed into doing—”

“That’s not how it was, I—”

“The reason doesn’t matter now, Gabbi. The fact of the matter is that your sister doesn’t need a job. She
should
be concentrating on school.”

Shooting Zali a look of malice, my temper heats up at Dad’s thinly veiled reproof. “If you’d actually been around, then you’d have known Mom was spending every dollar on her
activities.
We needed to eat and we needed to keep a roof over our heads, so I did what I could. Zali came to me, offering to work to help me with the burden. It wasn’t until she had the job, that she informed me that you’d said she could move in with Devon.”

“I did no such thing,” Dad splutters. The tops of his ears turn red, a sure sign from childhood that his temper isn’t far behind mine. My sister puts her legs down and sits up straight, unease radiating from her at being caught in her lie. “The first I heard about my children not living at home any longer was from a call from Cooper’s school teacher demanding to know why neither of his parents had attended his parent-teacher interview. When Mrs. Scott told me that Cooper had said he was living in an apartment with his big sister and that her boyfriend would kill anyone who hurt them, I was alarmed and came here straightaway. I found your mother
entertaining
and once I’d dealt with that mess, I set about finding where you were all hiding.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, fidgeting with edge of the lace table cloth.

“I let you all down, but I’m here to fix it now. I want you home with all of us. The four of us can put the pieces back together, as a family. Cooper needs a home with a backyard and his parent, not an apartment with his sister and her
boyfriend
.”

Hooligan smothers a laugh at the emphasis my father outs on the word “boyfriend”. It is kinda funny for a man his age to be referred to by such a juvenile title.

“Cooper doesn’t want to be here. He wants me.” I discussed this with Hooligan this morning and he’s on board with my wishes. “And he adores Hooligan. We keep him safe. We love him. And we’ve never let him down. I want him to stay with me.”

My little brother squirms in my lap, causing me to realize that I’m holding him too tight. My anxiety, and my desperate need to keep him, consume me. If I don’t win this fight, it’s going to gut me. Cooper is more than my little brother; he’s my world. He crawls from my lap onto Hooligan’s, adding validation to my words when he wraps his arms around his neck. “He doesn’t know you. You’ve been gone since he was five. That’s a long time for a kid.”

Hell, I was almost fourteen when Dad left and it killed me. I can’t begin to imagine the damage it’s done to Cooper.

“He’s my son.”

“He wasn’t even on your fucking radar until yesterday. You had your new family and you didn’t give a shit about us. It’s not fair to come back here because you and Maribelle have split and try to pick up where you left off.”

With a red face that displays his growing annoyance with me, Dad smacks his fist into the table and stands. The scraping of the legs of his chair when they slide along the tiles is excruciating. Cooper whines, jamming his hands over his ears, and burying his head in Hooligan’s neck. “I thought your mother was looking after you.”

“Yeah, well now you have to live with the consequences of what your thought did.”

At my father’s goldfish impersonation—eyes wide, mouth opening and closing without words emerging—I seize the chance to shield my brother from our latest family drama.

“Take Cooper outside, please,” I ask Hooligan. I try my hardest to keep my rage out of my voice, failing miserably because I’m shaking. My man stands with my brother in his arms and holds out a hand to me.

“You should come, too. Nothing’s gonna get accomplished with an argument.”

I shake my head. “I need to set some things straight before we leave and Cooper doesn’t need to hear it.”

Staring my father down with serious green eyes that seem to illuminate as he drives his point home, Hooligan issues a warning. A terse, deadly grim caution laced with a lethal innuendo that a deaf person could hear. “I told you what would happen if she gets hurt. It wasn’t a joke.”