Page 29

Chapter 29

You’re an Idiot, But You’re My Idiot

Wade

Losing the Stanley Cup couldn’t hurt me.

Disappointing, yes. But inconsequential. I’ve got the love of my life by my side, giving me the happiest fucking birthday I could ever imagine.

Well, not exactly by my side .

Gabe leans on a sturdy headboard, hand fisting a bubble gum pink silicone cock. Her legs twist and toes squirm as I up the speed of the hidden vibrator inside her, thumbing the button on the remote. My other hand pushes a third finger into my prepped asshole. I hiss at the stretch.

She slathers the toy’s length with more lube, nearly emptying the expensive tube.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” I groan, removing a finger, and add more lube to pump the remaining two into my pursed opening.

Her lips shine with saliva. “How do you feel?”

“Filthy as fuck.”

“That’s what you are, aren’t you? My filthy fucking boy.”

I confirm with a whine, maxing out the vibrator speed.

Gabe’s moan pitches up an octave, back curling through a wretched scream. Her torso relaxes, resting against the tufted headboard, rapid breaths slowing. A satiated smile pinches into her burnt sienna cheeks as I discard the remote.

Focused rage fires in my direction when she flicks her eyes open. “Get your ass over here.”

Maroon throbs engorge my cock, strained by a cock ring at its base, swinging between my thighs as I stalk up to her.

Pulling me into a hasty, needy kiss, she strokes and squeezes pre-cum from the head, dripping it down her flat stomach. “Hands on the headboard.”

I plant my feet onto the mattress, palming the top edge of the bed frame as she positions the domed head of the toy under me. My thighs wobble at the pressure.

“Breathe.” Her hands surround my hips, guiding entry.

The greased tip creeps in, and I lose balance, folding to my knees.

“You’re doing so good. I know you can take more.”

I do, slinking down another inch before shallow breaths puff from me like a runaway train.

“Keep going,” she coos. Her enamored gaze sweeps over me. “You look incredible. Like fucking paradise.”

The degrading praise relaxes me enough to settle further, the smooth walls inside savoring the ridged surfaces of the silicone dick.

“Oh— fuck .” My eyes screw shut with a quiver, stilling any motion.

“More,” she demands. “I didn’t say you could stop.”

A final plunge impales me entirely. I cry out at the fill.

“Ride.” My quads shiver, unable to assist the stutter of my hips. Gabe doles out a punishing slap to one cheek. “I said, ‘ ride .’”

I obey. More fluid dribbles from my ripe-red slit as the dildo nudges back and forth. It glances off of the needy, swollen spot inside, wrenching demented, guttural moans from somewhere deep within my chest.

Gabe crushes her lips into my neck, then drops her head, grazing her teeth over a puckered nipple. They scrape as they bite down, and it’s too much.

A shock of pain sets off the pleasure, and I explode, so sudden and brazen it blazes every last brain cell to ashes, save the one that controls the sound of a lengthy groan. Gossamers of thick, white-hot cum streaks up Gabe’s tits and gorgeous, freshly fucked expression.

“Oh, my God, Wade.” Her hands explore and spread the stickiness over her nipples and below, her mouth splitting open and webbing my release across those puffed lips. It’s the prettiest sight and the last thing before my orgasm crashes and burns.

I wake up groggy and disoriented but root myself to Gabe’s heartbeat. Nails lightly scratch up and down my naked back.

“You okay?”

A throaty rumble crawls out. “How long was I out?”

The goosebump-inducing scratches travel to my scalp as she shifts her spread legs beneath my resting hips. “About an hour.”

“Yeesh.”

“That’s your fault,” she teases. “You’re the one who likes it rough.”

The satisfied noise hums between my lips and her sternum. “The aftercare is why I like it rough.” I maneuver forward, stealing a kiss from the crook of her neck. She recoils with a giggle, unable to bear the tickle. “Wait, what time is it?”

“Five.”

“5 p.m.!” My elbows lift my weight from Gabe’s torso. “We gotta go, Freckles.”

“Three more minutes,” she purrs, convincing me to rest against her chest again. “Please?”

“When you said birthday dinner, I thought you meant somewhere fancy.” Gabe adjusts the shirred top of her forest green sundress while we wait to get seated at Cafe Jardín.

“Nah,” I reply, smoothing down my denim shirt before tugging her to my side. “If I had it my way, no one would be invited, and we’d still be in bed with my hands on the headboard.”

“Sometimes I worry about your masochistic side.” She drops a tender kiss on the crease beneath my jaw. “If I hurt your perfect ass, I’d never forgive myself.”

A host beckons us inside. “S’il vous plait.”

Gabe sends a confused look my way as we skip past the seating area.

“We’re sitting in the garden.” I stop at the wooden door. “And don’t think this is because you knocked me out with that cruel orgasm earlier.”

“Why would I think?—”

Her words evaporate into a gasp. Garlands of gardenia hang from the string lights, a twilight glowing against the lush green space. Decorative palms and tropical plants create walls, crawling ivy covering the entire back. It smells of her, matches her. Gabe steps into it, hands swiping at the strands as she passes.

“Hey, Freckles?” I call for her attention.

When she turns, her eyes light up at the sudden semi-circle created by our loved ones. Her dad, my mom. Indi and Landon holding Akhila. Denise and her partner. Mel. Skylar and Jaeger next to Fletcher.

“What are you guys doing here?”

I lower to one knee.

Indi points to me, and finally, Gabe notices my perched stance.

My hands reach for hers, brushing her knuckles with my thumbs. “I’ve done so many impulsive, reckless things in my life for attention. To be loved and cherished, at the top of someone’s list. I sought it in all the wrong places. And then you showed up in that press room. Everything I thought I wanted or believed I was satisfied with evaporated into thin air. All I wanted was you, and you weren’t mine to have.” I swallow the knot in my throat.

“I wouldn’t wish what you’ve been through on anyone, but I’m so grateful it was me who got caught up in you. I thank the universe for the way you hate-kissed me on New Year’s Eve four years ago. How lucky was it that I convinced you to come up to my hotel room after Landon and Indi’s wedding? It can’t be a coincidence that our shared past— each one of those times —set off another chaotic series of events that led us through so many realizations about ourselves and each other and brought us here, to this point. It can’t be anything but a butterfly effect cutting our seemingly well-balanced world to shreds.”

Water floods her darkened lower lids.

“Maman once told me if I ever find the person who finds me as annoying as I find them, and despite that, we’re able to prioritize each other above anything else, then I should marry them. Happy to announce on my 25th birthday, that’s you, Freckles. You are the most maddening, infuriating, insufferable person I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, my God.” Gabe pushes out a short laugh.

“I know , for a fact, that I annoy the living daylights out of you. I love you, Gabe Finch. I respect you. And I don’t want to live without you. Put me out of my misery and marry me.”

Adoration gleams back at me from her weepy eyes.

My hands part from hers to dig the velvet box from my pocket. I snap it open. A four-carat marquise emerald and its vining diamond petals cast shadows onto my pinched-together forefinger and thumb.

“So, what do you think, Freckles?”

Gabe wipes away her sniffle with a wrist. “You wanna marry me because I annoy you?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“God, you’re an idiot,” she shakes her head, “but you’re my idiot.”

“That’s all I wanted to be.”

“An idiot?”

“Yours.”

Gabe bends forward, caging my neck between her hands as she speaks against my lips.

“Alright, Pretty Boy. I’ll marry you.”