Page 31

Chapter Thirty-One

Gabriel

I’ve never in my life, not once, ever been drunk. Until now.

Honestly, I don’t hate it.

I’ve seen sloppy drunks, and I’ve seen the outcome of drinking too much. I work in an ER for crying out loud. My brothers came home trashed all the time, and I remember waking up to the smell of vomit and sweat. I remember them hardly being able to eat anything the next day and complaining of horrible headaches. Who would want to put themselves through that? It’s always what I asked myself when I saw them. But I get it now. Boy, do I get it now.

I’ve never felt so free in my life. I don’t care about anything, and I see how that can be bad. How it could cause me to make awful decisions like getting into a car and driving. Because I can’t say I wouldn’t do that right now—my inhibitions are gone. Thankfully, I don’t have to worry about that because we don’t have to drive anywhere. We’re at the bar, not far from the hotel, and I am having the time of my life. I don’t want to leave.

“Here!” Dominic says, shoving a shot glass towards me. I take it without questioning what it is and shoot it back. It’s not the first shot I’ve taken tonight, and I doubt it’ll be the last.

This could have drugs in it. But do I care? Nope. Not right now, I don’t. I’ll take whatever they give me. See? So bad. Bad decisions. So very bad…

“God, you’re so fucking sexy!” someone growls in my ear, and I turn to see Storm there, eyes glossy with a lazy look to them. Somehow, he’s even more sexy drunk.

“So are you,” I tell him, putting the glass on the bar top and picking up the cup that I think is mine and drink from it. I don’t know what it is, but it’s good, so I keep drinking.

Storm slips in front of me, putting his hands around my waist and leans in close to my ear. “I could fuck you right here, right now.”

My dick stirs in my pants at the thought. I like everything we’ve done so far, and thoughts of doing more have been fleeting, but they’ve been there. It makes me nervous because there’s just so many things that go along with more.

“Probably a bad idea,” I answer. “We’d get kicked out.”

Storm chuckles, taking a cup from Dominic and drinking from it, his free hand still on my waist and the front of his body still pressed to mine. He’s warm, firm, and smells so freaking good.

“At least it wasn’t a flat out no,” he says when he puts the cup on the bar top near my empty one.

“It’s not a no,” I answer, chewing on my bottom lip. “I just have a lot of questions.”

“And I have all the answers,” he says smoothly.

I can’t help but smile, my chest getting all warm and my heart doing a little flutter. It’s strange. I’ve never felt anything like it and it must be because of the alcohol.

“We can talk about it whenever you want,” he adds.

There’s no way he understands how much I appreciate his patience and willingness to talk me through things. I’m used to people telling me to suck it up and figure it out. Get over it. Most people don’t understand why some things are a big deal to me, why I need all the information before doing something. And because they don’t understand, they don’t care. Storm is different. He cares. He’s patient with me—understanding. Sort of the way Marta is, but different. She pushes me a lot. Makes me leave my comfort zone, and I don’t hate it all the time, but sometimes it’s hard. And even though she seems to get it, I don’t think she truly understands. I don’t think Storm does either, but he accepts me. At first, he questioned a lot of things, and I guess he still does, but I don’t know… it’s just different with him.

The music gets louder, causing the group of people we’re with to cheer as if it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to them. It makes me laugh. The energy is buzzing; I can actually feel it on my skin.

“Come on, let’s go dance!” someone shouts behind me, and Storm takes my hand to follow after them.

I cannot dance. I’ve never had to dance. Nothing outside of a Waltz that I was forced to learn in middle school.

“I don’t know how to dance,” I call after Storm. He looks over his shoulder, smiling at me.

“I’ll show you how.”

I’m aware enough to know that normally this would scare the hell out of me. But right now, I’m excited to learn how to dance. No, I’m not excited to learn how to dance. There is no way I will learn this quickly, or even remember how to tomorrow. What I’m excited about is being pressed up against Storm and having his hands on me.

He pulls me until we’re between a ton of warm, writhing bodies. The temperature is at least ten degrees hotter than by the bar. A quick look around and I realize this is a dance floor. An open space away from the tables and bar, closer to the large speakers that are so loud I think the hotel can hear the music. I may get permanent damage to my ears, but hey, that’s not my problem right now.

“Just follow along,” Storm says, pulling my hips flush to his. He slides his hands to my wrists, gripping them to bring them around his neck before putting his around my waist again. He starts to move. Just a slow sway of his hips from side to side, making me go with him. “Relax. Loosen up.” It’s an order, but not a harsh one. I focus on loosening my body so I don’t feel so tense. “Just go along with me.”

His arm tightens around me and he guides me with him. It takes a minute to get control over my body, but eventually I loosen up enough that he’s moving me with ease, and then my body goes along with it. Our hips rock side to side, his crotch pressed so firmly against mine that I feel his warmth. I tighten my grip around his neck, pressing my forehead to his shoulder and just… let go.

I focus on the way he feels. Storm’s hot, hard body pressed against mine, the slight scent of sweat and alcohol coming off him. He’s sweaty, as I’m sure I am too. His dick is growing hard, grinding up against mine through our pants. Mine swells in response, and I move harder against him, wanting more pressure.

Rolling my hips against him, I swear I hear him groan in my ear. His mouth comes down, pressing a soft kiss beneath my ear, and goosebumps erupt along my neck and arms.

I don’t recognize the song that’s playing, but it has a fast and easy beat to dance along to. Yet, we aren’t following the beat. We’re dancing to our own, moving much slower than everyone around us.

I’m tempted to do something crazy right now, like find a bathroom and ask him to get me off. This is torture, but it’s also so perfect. Seeing how the other side lives… seeing how going to a club could be fun if you’re with the right person, because dancing like this is so erotic. Feeling every inch of him against me, feeling his heart beat against mine, his hands holding onto me, his sharp breaths…

The song seamlessly changes into another, and it’s just as fast. We keep up our own pace until I feel like I’m going to pass out from my heart pounding so hard. Storm flawlessly turns me around and pulls me to him again. With his hand on my lower stomach, he grinds his dick against my ass and brings his other hand over my chest, digging his nails in.

His hot breath fans over my ear and my eyes fall closed. “I want to fuck you so badly,” he growls. “You going to let me do that?”

His words have heat blooming throughout my entire body. I nod, swallowing hard.

Storm slides his hand down over my erection and squeezes; I can’t help but groan. I feel it leave my throat, but the music is too loud for anyone to hear. Everyone is too busy dancing that they don’t realize what’s happening here.

“I want you to fuck me too,” he says next.

“You do?” I answer, but I don’t think he hears me.

“Just thinking about your fat cock in my ass has me wanting to come.”

Oh my god, his mouth is so dirty. It’s so hot.

He kisses my neck, dragging his tongue up to my ear. He nibbles and tugs on my earlobe, another growl leaving him. The hold he has on me tightens to something almost possessive, and my dick throbs. I picture him bent over for me, asking me to fuck him. I like the thought of that. But also, I like the thought of him walking me through him fucking me. I don’t know what any of this means, and why I’m suddenly imagining sex with a man when it was never a thought before him, but oh well. I’m tired of worrying about everything all the time. I want more of this. This feeling of freedom and not caring. I could be so happy if I could just… stop it. I turn to face him, his eyes wide in shock.

“Let’s go back to the room,” I say.

His smile is slow forming, but it turns into a bright grin. He leans down to kiss me, hand on my cheek in the sweetest gesture. When he pulls away, I whimper at the loss.

“No,” he says simply, just as I was about to bolt back to the hotel.

“What? Why not?”

He’s smiling like a smug jerk.

“Because when we fuck for the first time, I want you with a clear head.”

“I do have a clear head,” I argue.

He chuckles, then leans in. “You’re so drunk, Gabriel. And it’s fucking adorable.”

Storm kisses me again, a firm press of his salty lips to mine. He turns me back around, making me dance with him again, his dick still hard and rubbing against my ass. How does he just ignore it? How doesn’t he want to come right this very second? This is driving me crazy!

“Don’t worry, baby. You’ll get my cock soon enough,” are his next words, and I melt into him.

We dance until there’s no music, until we’re being kicked out by the staff. The group of people is small as we walk back to the hotel. Dominic, Mikah, Zach, and us. We laugh and stumble into each other. Dominic and Mikah kiss each other a lot. It’s clear they love each other. And Storm doesn’t let go of my hand.

I have a feeling that when I go back home, things are going to be different. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but something tells me it’s more than that. Something deeper. I’ve changed, and for once, I think that’s a good thing.