Page 166 of The Path to Loving Him
The grip of his large hands over his length.
So erotic.
So fucking delicious.
“Ahhhh fuck,” he calls out just before he starts coming on my breasts, his hand moving toward the tip of his cock where he pulses, squeezing out his orgasm until he’s completely sated and moves down on the bed next to me. “Jesus Christ,” he says.
We both lie there, staring up at the ceiling. His hand finds mine, and he links our fingers together. He kisses my knuckles before getting off the bed and moving around it.
He scoops me up and walks us both to the bathroom, where he turns on the shower. I eye him, and he laughs. “No funny business. Just want to clean you.”
And then his mouth captures mine again, our kisses so much deeper and more meaningful than any kiss I’ve ever experienced in my life.Is this what it feels like to be with the right person?
Is this what it feels like to start the path to . . . to loving someone?
Chapter Twenty-Five
RYLAND
“You comfortable?” I ask Gabby as she settles against my chest, her leg draped over mine, her bare body plastered against my side.
“Very comfortable, are you? Because I can still go sleep on the couch.”
“Funny,” I say as I drag my hand through her hair, loving how the soft strands filter through my fingers.
“Are you sure? Because I can really give you space.” She starts to get up, and I close my arm around her, keeping her where she is and making her giggle.
“Don’t fucking go anywhere.”
Her fingers dance across my chest. “Just what I like to hear.” She lifts up and presses a kiss to my jaw, the gesture making me feel so goddamn warm inside that I honestly don’t know what to do with the sensation.
I had one long-term relationship with a girl named Samantha. I thought she was the one who was supposed to be with me until I found out she got pregnant with someoneelse’s baby. From there, I haven’t bothered with a relationship or gotten close to a woman. I’ve kept my distance and fucked to fulfill a need, but that’s been the extent of it.
With Gabby, my life feels like it’s been flipped upside down, but in the best way possible. I kiss the top of her head and continue to sift my fingers through her hair. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through these past few weeks as I tried to figure my shit out.”
“You don’t need to apologize. I get it, Ryland. I really do. I think I was sifting through some past baggage as well.”
“You were?” I ask, surprised to hear that. “What kind of baggage . . . did someone . . . did someone hurt you?”
“Yeah.” She pauses for a moment, the mood shifting from playful to serious. “His name was Nathan, and for a while there, I thought he was the one thing that I needed in my life to make me forget about everything negative that happened to me in the past. And sure, he was great for a while until he wasn’t.”
“What do you mean, he wasn’t?” I ask, growing tense but trying not to show my anger at the thought of anyone hurting her.
“The last thing I want to talk about right now is my ex,” she says, but even I can hear how damaged she sounds.
“What happened?” I ask, gearing up for something I’m sure I’m not going to like. “Did he hurt you? Touch you?”
“Once,” she says softly.
And all it takes is that one singular word to set off a combustible war inside my chest. He fucking touched her? He hurt her? He better hope he never runs into me because guaranteed, it won’t end well for him.
Keeping my composure the best I can, I say, “How?”
She sits up on her elbow to look me in the eyes. “I’m okay now.”
“I know you are.” I press my hand to her cheek. “You’re so strong, Gabby. But I want to know what he did to you. I need to know.”
With her hand still on my chest, she works her jaw to the side. “He was going through a rough time, not that that’s an excuse, but when he was down about his self-worth, he took that out on the people close to him. Me being that person. He was mean. He couldn’t stand anyone being happy around him. Bennett had a good game, and I came back home—we were living together at the time—and was excited to tell Nathan about it.” My muscles grow tenser by the second as she continues her story. “I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t listen, and I knew not to push him to talk, so I went to the kitchen where I grew upset because I could feel him slipping away. He’d been emotionally abusive up to that point, and I thought that maybe there was a chance I could help him, if only he would let me.”
