Diavolo Ch 07 - Sex Stories

Diavolo Ch 07

... most likely back home and forgot all about breakfast.” Something sad and lonely passed through his eyes, but it was gone in the blink of an eye. “Guess I’ll leave you two alone and head back home before her highness realizes I’m still gone.” With that, he sauntered out through the balcony doors. Warm salty air blew in from outside. Gabriel observed Abigail. She fidgeted with her fork. “You don’t suppose the owner of this house would mind you staying here like you did last night?” Gabriel glared at her. “You invited me.” Her eyes went wide, one brow arched. “I did?” Okay. She didn’t, but that was beside the point. “You said you wanted to sleep with me.” She stood abruptly, grabbing Michael’s plate as well as her own. “Gonna clean up now. Want more coffee or juice?” Gabriel gripped her wrist making the dishes rattle. “You said you wanted me to make love to you.” Abigail’s face flushed crimson. She swallowed hard before looking at him from the corner of her eye. “Did we?” she squeaked. Gabriel clenched his teeth, remembering the ways she’d practically crawled all over him on the drive to Bayside. He’d sat in the back of Mike’s van while she’d stroked her tongue everywhere on him and caressed his upper body until it was all he could do to not dry hump against her. Mike had helped him undress and had laughed his ass off at Gabe’s pitiful condition afterwards. Only the certainty that Mike was likely not getting anything either that night stopped him from punching his guitarist in ...

... the face. Abigail was already hyperventilating. She had no idea what had transpired the night before, which pissed Gabriel even more. He’d suffered all night with a case of blue balls while she’d slept in drunken bliss in the downstairs bedroom. “We didn’t do anything, Abigail. The only way we can have sex is if you mounted me, and you were passed out by the time we got here.” She closed her eyes with a long huff of apparent relief. He released her hand as if she’d burned him and turned his angry gaze to the glass doors. She set the plates back down on the table and sat slowly. “Why do you look so angry?” she asked softly. “I’m sorry I said what I said. I wasn’t thinking straight—“ “Of course you weren’t,” he muttered. He needed to back off. He was pressuring too much. Poor girl had zilch in the experience department. Hell, she’d been cloistered in a convent a little over a month ago. An evil voice in his head laughed and reminded him that she’d been ready to marry Daniel and give him her innocence instead; Daniel of the clean-cut haircut and impeccable suits. “Gabe, who put me to bed?” He pursed his lips, still not wanting to look at her, his annoyance was so fierce. “Mike." He noticed her wince and had to turn. Her hands were folded on her lap and her face was beet red again. Rage boiled up his spine until it filled his head with pure fire. “Michael carried you downstairs. Why do you ask?" He said, outwardly calm. Well, his voice sounded calm. Obviously Abigail was seeing ...