Page 61 of Bared Betrayal
I move around the apartment, taking it all in, then walk down the hall, peeking inside every room until I find the master bedroom that has the same breathtaking view over more of the city. The bed in the middle of the room is made, but something about this room feels different from the others. It doesn’t feel as empty or formal. This room feels lived in, and it strikes me how tragic that must be for him—to have this massive apartment and only need one single room.
“What do you want on your pizza?” Gabriel saunters out of his walk-in closet wearing a pair of low-rise jeans and a button-down shirt he left open.
“That isn’t fair,” I say, looking him up and down, loving the way his abs flex as he walks.
“Just because you earned a pizza doesn’t mean I’m going to start playing fair. But what specifically are you talking about now?”
I motion to all of him, and he just raises an eyebrow.
“You have seen me in Italian suits tailored to my body, and you have seen me naked. But it’s an old pair of jeans and a random shirt that has my baby girl looking like a deer in headlights?”
I nod, and he laughs at me, a full-bodied lighthearted laugh, and I get the feeling that seeing him like this is a rare privilege.
“Come on. Let’s get out of my bedroom before I have you bent over.” He grabs me by the waist and pulls me in for a kiss, then leads me back to the living room.
He places the order, and we spend the rest of the evening talking about nothing, really. Likes and dislikes, art, history, even TV shows. It’s calm and casual. Right now, he isn’t my fiancé’s father or even the man I want to have hurt me. For a brief moment, I allow myself to wonder if things would have been different if I had found Club Myth sooner—if I had found Gabriel before Sebastian. It’s a depressing ‘what-if,’ and I force it from my mind to stop it from festering.
After dinner, he has me lie on the couch with my top off, so he can massage some aloe into my back. The gel is cool and feels good on my bruised back. Each touch hurts and turns me on. I don’t know if it’s the pain, or because it’s reminding me of how I got them, but I know by the time he is done I am panting and my core is soaked.
“Do you need me again, Angel?” He places tender kisses on my shoulders, his hands sliding down my sides.
“Please,” I whimper as I arch up just enough that our lips meet in a sweet kiss that deepens slowly, naturally.
He stands and offers a hand to me and then takes me to his bedroom. His touch is gentle. There is no choking, spanking, or mind games. It’s just me and Gabriel exploring each other’s bodies. I don’t have to call him ‘sir,’ and he doesn’t make me ask for permission to come, but even then, I come apart for him in ways I never have with Sebastian.
As I fall asleep in his arm, satisfied, safe, and cherished, and without memories that slither through the silence. The voices are quiet, and for the first time in years I fall asleep without a giant knot in my stomach.
In the morning, I wake just in time to watch the sunrise over Lake Michigan. The way the soft colors dance over the sky in oranges, pinks, and baby blues is stunning.
I stretch my arm out next to me to find the space empty, the silk sheets soft against my skin. When I push myself up, Gabriel is sitting on the couch across from me.
“Why?” he asks simply.
“Good morning to you, too,” I say, stretching my legs.
“Why him? Why are you marrying him?”
“Because I love him,” I say the line just like I have said it million times to myself.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
“I run an international shipping company. I work with shady people every day, Kallie. It’s my job to know when people are lying to me, and you are lying.”
He’s right, and if he wants the truth, fine. It doesn’t change a thing.
I pull the sheets up, trying to cover myself as much as I can. “Sebastian is…safe.”
“You’re marrying him because he’s safe?” He frowns.
“Yes.”
“Are we talking financially safe, or…”
“No, Gabriel. It’s not about the money. He’s just…safe.” I drag a hand through my hair. “I don’t know how else to explain it.”
“Try.”
