Page 42 of Ropers Can't Tie Knots
Gabe rides me like he wished, but not like a wild stallion. He’s slow, almost sensual as he moans and swivels his hips. I can’t stop watching him and touching him everywhere. Wrapping my hand around his cock, I stroke him as he finally lets go and rides me like it’s the last time he’ll ever have a chance.
“Fuck…Hunter….” he pants. “Don’t stop.”
Gabe seats himself fully and throws his head back with a loud guttural moan. His dick swells in my hand as he rocks his hips. “Fuck…Hunter…” My name sounds reverent on his lips, and when my gaze shifts from his release, now spilling down my hand to his face, my orgasm hits me without warning. Sheer, white heat runs up my spine as I come and gasp for a breath.
“Gabe…shit, Gabe.”
His lips are on mine, feather soft. “I’m here, doll. I got you,” he whispers, and my body has so many aftershocks you’d think there was an earthquake.
“Sorry, I didn’t warn you. I hope that was okay.” We’ve had the talk before about no condoms, but it just seems polite to ask if he wants a load in his ass or not.
His sex-blissed smile squeezes my heart, and a crack of panic seeps in.
“It was totally okay. Do you want to get cleaned up and call it a night? You must be exhausted.” Gabe’s gentle caress across my chest should be welcome, but my brain says otherwise. Taking his hand away, I squeeze it.
“Why don’t you hit the shower first?”
He’s silent for a moment as his gaze roams my face, and I hope he doesn’t see what I’m trying my best to hide.
“Okay. If that’s what you want. Will I see you after?”
The guarded hope in his voice is almost too much for me. I know what he wants, but I can’t do that.
“If not tonight, then in the morning.”
He sets his lips together and I feel like a huge asshole, but I can’t share a bed with him. Sex is one thing, but having him in my arms all night and rubbing his scent all over my sheets? I’m not ready for that.
And I don’t know if I’ll ever be.
He gracefully exits and doesn’t bother gathering his clothes, walking upstairs naked and leaving me on the living room floor, wondering if I just fucked everything up.
Margie’s old beagle waddles off the porch of her farmhouse to greet me. She’s had a beagle ever since I’ve met her. When one dies, she mourns, then gets another one. She just loves beagles.
“Hey girl. It’s just me.” I crouch down for the dog to sniff me, so she stops barking. Her eyes aren’t that good, the cataracts visible, but she wags and thumps down for a belly rub once she recognizes my voice.
While I scratch her belly, the porch door squeaks open, and Margie wastes no time busting my chops.
“It’s about time you showed up here, boy. Are you planning to stay and visit?”
Standing, I walk to the porch with a broken heart for not being here for her. “I’m here for as long as it takes to get you to forgive me.”
“Hunter, there’s nothing to forgive, but there’s lots for you to fill in. Come on in and help me finish cooking for the youth group. We’ll talk.”
Bending down, I wrap my arms around her and hug. Her shaking arms return it, and she smells like she’s been baking apple pies, Gabe’s favourite.
“I’ll always love you, my boy. Don’t think I stopped because you vanished for a bit,” she whispers in my ear, and I blink back the wetness.
“Thank you. I love you, too.”
We return to the house, and just like I did a million times growing up, I kick off my boots and grab a pair of slippers by the door. When I enter the kitchen, I find a familiar setup. A giant country table covered with pies, bread, and vegetables. Her stove has two giant pots on the go with hearty soups.
“Who are you feeding today, Margie?”
She checks her paper on the fridge and reads out, “Youth group at the cathedral and the Big Brothers and Sisters.” She returns the reading glasses to her head. “And, of course, the soup kitchen.”
Margie’s mission in life is to feed everyone who needs it. Her husband died very young, and they never had children. They both dreamed of filling this house with kids and their friends, and being a beacon for young people. When he died, she kept on without him, but never wanted to date again.
“You’re a good woman. Anyone boarding with you?”
