15. s o f t s o r r y s
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In a weird way, it felt bittersweet to not be wanted.
I'd wished my whole life to be left alone, but that was on the basis of being wanted in all the wrong reasons.
When the wanting wasn't mutual, or I simply wasn't coherent enough to fight against it.
Whatever the point was; I'd always wanted this.
I wanted a man to look at me and not automatically start undressing me with his eyes and trying to get me off with his words.
I wanted... someone like Gael.
He only touched me when he needed to, and backed away when that time was up.
He only spoke to me when he had something of use to say, but otherwise he was quietly listening.
He never overstepped his boundaries— no matter how much my eyes sometimes begged him to— and he always stuck to caution when it came to me.
I sink deeper into his embrace, basking in the feel of his strong, protective arms being wrapped around me.
It feels selfish, but I want to take his warmth until it becomes my own. I wanted his calm energy to relax my chilled bones and still my erratic heartbeat.
He feels like some sort of armor where my body feels impenetrable, and I feel immensely invincible.
He feels like safety.
This feels a lot like trust and intimacy.
I feel... a lot.
I suck in a breath as I gently untangle myself from Gael's arms. The air around me instantly feels cold and harsh as I face it alone, but this was the reality I was use to.
And I didn't want him waking up with me still in his arms as if he were my anchor when we were supposed to despise each other.
Gael had spent the better part of the night trying to console me into a state of normalcy, and it had worked, if only for a brief moment.
He held me close and spoke soft sorry's and reassurance into my ear until the tears had stopped and my heart had slowed.
He promised me a happy ending; one filled with fulfilled hopes and dreams, happiness, peace, and love.
Although I wasn't foolish enough to believe my life would become so, it felt good to picture a future for myself that wasn't shrouded in darkness.
A yawn blows from my lip as I reach out my arms and stretch. My body aches, but I'm sure the weight was something that was now permanently etched into my world, so I ignore the feel of weak bones and strained muscles and instead force my feet to walk.
I leisurely walk through Gael's house; not that there's much to see. Every wall is painted white and left blank, there's minimal furniture, and no other signs that a person actually lives here.
I enter the hallway, the same one leading to the bathroom, but I pass the door I'm familiar with and instantly head for the entrance at the very end of the hall.
I slowly twist the knob and crack open the door, being met with immediate chaos as the room reveals itself to me.
It's so unlike Gael; clothes sprawled haphazardly across the floor, bedsheets ripped from the mattress, blinds completely shut, the bed frame was twisted in a crooked angle, but there was one thing in the room left untouched...
A picture frame.
I ignore the worrisome mess around me, and instead head right for the small framed picture.
It stands proudly on his nightstand, perfectly placed and lacking dust.
It was a bright contrast to the rest of the room, and as I analyze the grainy photo, I figure out why.
In the picture, there's four people including a young looking Gael. His eyes are brightened in a smile as he stands next to a taller male that looks nearly identical to him, but with a chubbier face and light eyes.
I figure that's his brother, maybe even a twin.
Next to them is what looks to be his parents. A tall, stern looking man who's eyes are forced on the camera so intensely that I feel as if he's actively glaring at me. While a grey-haired woman with bright eyes and an even brighter smile stands next to the grouchy looking man.
She seems like such a contrast to her husband, and yet, it seems as if they had been together for a long time from the picture.
The family portrait looks happy, it looks almost unreal.
It makes me wonder about Gael and how he never talked about his past— not willingly at least.
He had people out there that loved him, but that further makes me wonder, how he ended up so far from home when he looked so happy to be with his family...
"I—uhm— I had a rough couple of days," a voice breaks the silence within the room, and rattles my nerves as I quickly put down the frame and turn to Gael.
I hold up my hands, surrendering, "I promise I wasn't stealing anything or planning to destroy anymore of your property," I announce innocently.
Gael laughs, it's breathy and light and makes me want to smile for some reason.
"Then what were you doing, Chandler? Inside my room?" He asks as he leans against the doorframe and folds his arm over his broad chest.
"Looking for blackmailing information, but all I found was that you aren't as much of a clean freak as I had thought." My eyes flicker down into the room where a mess nearly litters the entirety of the floor.
"I can promise you that it never normally looks like this. I just... sometimes I need to release some anger and this time my bedroom took the brute of it," he explains, shocking me by his willing openness to share.
"Oh, I was starting to think you were a robot, but I guess you do have emotions and a purpose besides being a know-it-all."
I flash a smile towards a scowling Gael and slowly walk over to his bed and plop down on the uncovered mattress.
"You're the first person to ever sit on that bed," he confesses as he stares over at me with an unreadable expression.
"Come join me on breaking it in then," and it doesn't mean to come out so needy, but I couldn't deny that I wanted Gael to touch me again.
"I think it'll keep its value if it's unused," he dryly jokes, which causes me to roll my eyes.
"Well do you at least want to talk about what's wrong?"
"Not really."
My chest deflates at his words, but I decide to try again, "Is it a family thing?" I ask quietly, casting a quick glance towards the portrait.
He blows out a stream of air as his spine snaps straight and his eyes seem to glaze over.
He doesn't speak for a while; he just stands stiffly in the threshold, letting his veins pop from under his skin as his fist tighten and his face reddens.
I open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to it.
"They're dead," he states flatly, giving his eyes to the picture. "They're gone." He then turns on his heels and leaves the room without saying another word.
"Gael—" my eyes widen and my heart drops as he walks away. "Hey, wait!" I yell as I get up from the bed and hurry after him.
By the time I catch up to him, he's locked himself behind the bathroom door.
It's quiet in there, almost as if he himself wasn't even inside, but I know I heard the door shut close and lock.
"Gael, open the door. I'm sorry— I... I didn't know," I stumble out hating how the emotions start to build behind my eyes.
I knock against the door, but there's no answer for a long time.
"Do you want me to leave?" I ask quietly. My voice grows small the same time my chest deflates in concern. "I'll... I'll leave."
As I go to take a step away from the bathroom to exit, the door comes barging open and Gael storms out and immediately grabs for me.
"G-Gael," I stumble out, but his lips are meshed against mine, silencing whatever words I had tried to mutter and turned it into a needy moan instead.
The feel of his lips are soft, but the way he kisses me is anything but. It's wild and demanding, and when he bites down on my bottom lips, it becomes painful.
But I don't tell him to stop.
I wrap my arms around his neck and wordlessly tell him to come closer. Maybe it's because I wanted this too or maybe I knew how much he needed this.
Whatever the reason, my lips pull against his, ingesting all of his emotions as if they were my own.
I whimper against his mouth as he wraps his hand around my neck and lightly squeeze.
My pulse jumps beneath his rough fingers, while my underwear dampen.
"M-More," I mumble as he finally pulls away, and just silently stares down at me with his darkened eyes.
"You want me to fuck you, huh?" He asks in a low voice, sending an involuntary shiver down my back as the anticipation warms my body.
He doesn't ask again as I stare wide-eyes at him, soaking in his words as if he had just said something so outlandish that I could no longer speak.
"Take these off," he says, but his hands are on the waistband and yanking them down before I can even comprehend his words.
He taps my thigh when the panties drop to my feet, signaling for me to step out of them completely.
I do as I'm told, and take a small step away from them and kick them to the side as Gael lowers himself to his knees before me.
He firmly grabs for my ankles, but he doesn't move his hand this time. "Give me your leg," he commands, and like a puppet, I do exactly that.
I raise my leg, until he grabs ahold of it and places it over one side of his shoulder.
"Hold my shirt up and keep yourself stable." I eagerly nod, digging my heel into his firm back as he draws closer to my naked skin.
His nose rubs up my leg, and towards my pelvis. He's inhaling my scent as if it were an aphrodisiac, and he couldn't get enough of it.
His caresses are slow, but I can feel his harsh breathing against my skin.
He replaces his nose with his lips and begins peppering light kisses low on my hip where goosebumps are beginning to develop.
"Take off my shirt." He says roughly, wanting more of me to be exposed.
I hesitate for a few seconds, but when his eyes lift up to glare at me, I'm hastily pulling the shirt over my head and letting it join my discarded underwear on the hallway floor.
His mouth continues to tease me, but now, he's added his hand to skate just above where my clit was starting to throb and swell.
"Herrera," I ground out impatiently.
His eyes quickly flicker up to mine as he momentarily lets his finger drop and stroke me once, twice, then he stops.
I try pulling my leg away from Gael, but he only seems to grip me harder to keep me in place.
My eyes harden on him, while he ignores me and lets his gaze drift back down to my lower lips.
"You're fucking glistening, Miss Donovan," he announces as if it's news to me how aroused I was.
A red tinge scorches my cheek, but there's nothing for me to hide behind but the truth. It normally doesn't affect me, but something about the way Gael says it makes it feel like a crime.
A crime I often committed, and he'd be the officer that took care of my arrest.
I brush away the shyness and smirk down at him as he kisses me slowly.
"Are you too scared to touch me," I taunt, but he only laughs in response.
He finally gives me his cold eyes again and my legs shake at the intensity in them.
"I'm scared that once I start..." he reaches a hand up and squeezes my heavy breast against his palm once, "I'll never want to end." And just as he voices out his concern, his finger return to my clit and begins slowly circling it.
"You're so beautiful like this," his voice is breathless as his movements steadily increase in speed as he gains more confidence in his skills. "So wet and ready for me."
I lean my head back against the wall as his fingers rub through my wetness and tightens the tension growing in my stomach.
I bite into my bottom lip to stop the moans from escaping because I didn't want to give Gael the satisfaction of knowing he was touching me just right.
My fist ball by my side as cool breath blows against my throbbing flesh. It only takes a few lasting seconds before his warm mouth latches onto my clit and sucks me hard.
"Sh-shit!" I yelp. My hands try gripping onto the wall, but it ends in me only scratching the paint instead.
His mouth is greedy as he licks through my arousal. His tongue travels from the top of my wet folds, down until he falls between my lips and begins pumping inside.
I finally relent, and allow a moan to slip past my lips as the feeling surges through my body and sends an electric shiver down my spine.
"Don't stop, Officer!" And those needy words seem to spur him on because now he's gripping onto both sides of my hips and digging his face deeper into my pūssy.
I begin rocking myself in tandem with his strokes, covering more of his face in my juices as I'm doing so.
The thought alone has my moans filling the air and a possessive tick surging through my body.
His tongue continues to work me; thrusting in and out of my hole, licking up and down my folds, and nipping at my clit to keep me on edge.
"Just. Like. That!" I shout as I drop my hands into his soft strands and pull him harder into me.
All I hear is the sound of his mouth slurping me up and working me to near hysteria, and for some reason that seems to set me off.
With a deep groan, I come against Gael's mouth.
I'm holding his hair tightly between my fist and grinding my convulsing lips onto his needy mouth as the euphoric feeling washes over me and momentarily sends me floating.
"Gael..." I whisper out, fully spent from his eager mouth.
He continues licking me as I come down from my high, and he makes sure that he's cleaned me of every drop of my nectar.
I almost feel the rise of another climax starting to crest, but with a lasting kiss, he finally pulls away from my sensitive bud.
I try to pull my leg from his taut hold, but he wordlessly keeps me in place as he sets his forehead against my thigh and heavily breathes there.
His short nails dig into my skin as he silently remains on his knees before me.
He seems angry, but I'm not sure what for.
His eyebrows are scrunched low on his face as if he's in pain. His usually tan skin has grown pale and flushed, and his touch feels scorching against my leg as his hand grips onto the skin.
"Gae—" I start but he stops me before I can continue.
"Don't... don't say anything," his voice is gravelly and low, and despite his rudeness, it sends a shot of arousal to my core.
God, I wanted him to fuck me.
My open mouth closes for a split second, but I quickly find my voice again. "What's your problem?" I ask, finally ripping my leg out of his hold and taking a step away from him.
He stays in his lowered position, silently shaking his head as his fist tighten and his head bows.
One of his hands was braced against the wall, while the other laid fisted against his thigh. It wasn't hard to notice the bulge tenting his pants, but it was hard to know why he was acting this way.
"Gael, just say something!" but a ring sounds throughout the quiet house, and sends Gael onto his feet and towards the living room within a second.
I let him go, then quickly grab for my discarded clothes and slip back into them before following his husky voice into the next room.
"Of course. I'll be there in 20." I walk in on the end of his call, and he doesn't even spare me an explanation as he hangs up the call and rushes out of the room and down the hall.
I hug an arm around my chest as I stand there confused; hurt and confused.
I didn't force him to do anything he didn't want to, and I didn't want to feel as if that was the case.
We'd both done things to each other, and I was in the mindset that it was done without regret. At least, that's what I had previously thought.
So much of the things I've done in life has been overridden with overwhelming emotions of regret and hurt. For some hopeful reason, I never expected that dark cloud to follow Gael and I's relationship.
Even when he acted as if he didn't want me, I knew he still did. The way his eyes watched me, the way his body responded to me... it all said otherwise to his words.
I knew he did it to pull me away, but it hurt all the same.
After a few lasting minutes, he comes rushing into the kitchen. He swings open the refrigerator and sifts through for a second before grabbing for an half empty jug of orange juice.
As he pushes it back closed, I notice the white smoke ghosting from his hand and that's when my gaze lands on the lit cigarette stick.
He sucks in a quick inhale of the smoke, then he finally turns to me with an unreadable expression lowered onto his normally handsome face.
"I have to go into work for the night..."
I hug myself tighter as I start to feel too small and cold under his intense glare. "You want me to leave?" I ask, testing just how much of an insensitive asshole he was planning to be.
He leisurely unscrews the top and chugs down a long gulp of juice before answering. "I won't be home until sometime tomorrow." He says, instead of outright giving me a response.
"I'll be gone. You don't have to worry about me, Mr. Herrera," I respond coldly. "It's not like I expected anything else from someone like you."
He takes a few more silent puffs of his cigarette before squishing the tip with his finger— the same fingers that were just inside of me not even an hour ago— and he throws it into the trash, then drinks down the remainder of the juice.
"Well, have a goodnight then, Mrs. Donovan." And that's the last thing he says as he walks past me, grabs for his keys, then walks out of the door and slams it shut behind him.
My shoulders jump at the sound, but I remain motionless for what seems like an infinite amount of time after that.
I had come to Gael thinking he would be more tolerable than my parents, but like all other men, he surprised me with just how much worse he could be.
But I'd learned my lesson, and he would never have to see me ever again.
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I just love ending the chapter in angst!! 👹
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I've rewritten this chapter like 3-4 times now, but I didn't want to keep y'all waiting any longer than I have, so I hope it's decent now.
I'm finally getting out of my blockage, so through the power invested in me, I can get updates out in a timely matter. Finally.
Thanks for reading (despite my less than stellar uploading schedule) and I hope you enjoyed <33
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