Iâm not easily surprised by people. Most humans are the exact same, standard, run of the mill people you think they are. Iâve always thought I was a good judge of character, but it turns out, Iâm not. At all. And Gabriel? I had no idea who he really was. Gabriel makes me realize Iâve probably been judging people my entire life based on what I was taught. And who am I to do that? Heâs teaching me that people canât be defined by their job or their upbringing, even their criminal activity might not necessarily make them a bad person.
Is it wrong to help people when the system fails and then profit from it? Is that any different than my father making the most of a shitty real estate deal gone bad? One is legal, oneâs not. Says who? A made-up group of people, bound to serve and protect when it suits them?
I look around at this place, really take it all in, and breathe out a sigh⦠Maybe Gabriel is the one who has it all figured out.
There are no words to describe the serenity of what I see now. It feels like Iâm walking into a treehouse. The wide front steps seem never ending. Like Iâll be going up two floors just to get to the front door. The entire cabin is deep, stained wood and glass. Itâs a large A frame and appears like it wasnât built into the hill it sits upon, but like it sprouted up from the earth. Spanish moss hangs low from the trees giving the entire space an eerie and peaceful feeling.
âWhy build it so high up?â
Gabriel stops in front of his solid glass front door. Nodding in the direction of his gate. âSo I can see anyone coming from three hundred yards away. Three hundred yards at their fastest speed still gives me twenty seconds to prepare.â He knocks with the back of his first two knuckles on the glass. âBulletproof, all the glass in the house is.â
Oh.
From my viewpoint looking in, I can see straight through the entire house before he even opens the front door. The house sits on a bluff and thereâs a large, open yard and a lake behind it. The only rooms we pass to get to the main living area are a small bathroom and an office. The interior doors in the house are all glass as well.
The sun is still sinking slowly down behind the water as we enter the living room and I realize this might be the most gorgeous view Iâve ever seen. Itâs easy to see when the entire back of the house is glass too. I notice as I look around that the inside isnât overly large, but what is here is well thought out and so neat and minimal.
Gabriel leads me into the open kitchen and living room. Itâs a sleek, modern style mixed with rustic wood walls and open wrought iron railings leading to the second floor and a basement below.
Iâm shocked that this is Gabrielâs home. I move closer to the window and peer out. The water shimmers below us and a set of wooden stairs leads down to it. Thereâs a small outbuilding and what looks like targets set up outside on the flat expanse of yard, and there are multiple black and white markers spread over at least half of it and into the trees beyond.
He has his own shooting range? Should I be surprised?
Gabriel removes his cut and hangs it over the side of the dark leather sofa in his living room. There are two of them and they face a floor to ceiling stone fireplace that houses a massive barn board mantel. Then I notice that there isnât a TV in this room and I find that odd.
I spin around and face him.
âWhy am I here? Why was that man at my work today? Iâm not going to stay in the dark on this. I canât go home and I want to know why.â
I watch as Gabriel ignores me, walking to the kitchen to pull a mason jar out of the cupboard and fills it with water.
âGabriel,â I say as I fold my arms over my chest. âI want to knowââ
âThey think youâre my weakness. Theyâve made the threat clear,â he says, turning to set his glass down, removing his gun and knife, placing them in a basket on the center of the kitchen island.
It isnât lost on me that most people keep things like fruit there.
âAnd why are you so hell bent on keeping me safe?â I push him. Iâm done letting fear guide me. Too much has happened over the last few weeks, and Iâm almost positive that if Gabriel Wolfe was planning to hurt me, or worse, he wouldâve already done it, so I might as well ask questions and speak my damn mind.
âI told you, I donât ask why. I just know I have to keep you safe.â
I place a hand on my hip and hold my chin up as he lifts his glass and takes another long drink.
âThat isnât good enough for me,â I say, hoping to appear as confident as I just sounded.
âI need to know why you didnât kill me that first night in the woods and then let me go. And I need to know why youâre coming to my rescue now.â
He sets the glass down on the marble counter and without warning, Gabriel turns and moves toward me with a stealth and speed Iâm not prepared for. I know when I fire back it frustrates him. Probably because nobody else does it. Instead, Iâm met with his large hands circling my waist as he tugs me forward, so my body is flush with his.
âI donât need to explain any of it to you. Youâre alive because I canât fucking bear the thought of this pulse not beating for me, and thatâs the only reason I can give you,â Gabriel growls as he dips his head down and brings his forehead to mine, pausing to take a deep breath, collecting himself as his hands grip my waist so tight it hurts.
My breath rises and falls tightly against him. Gabriel holds me so close, itâs hard to breathe.
He pulls back and his eyes trace the lines of my face. My eyes, my lips, my jaw. I watch his tortured expression of concentration as he finds my throat, places his palm against it and breathes deep.
âYou will hold no space to fear anything in this world except me. If anyone threatens you or tries to hurt you, they will be met with a suffering so deep that Lucifer himself will beg mercy for their souls. Iâll tear the flesh from their bones one layer at a time and rejoice like the angel of bloodshed I was trained to be.â Gabrielâs hands slide up my back into my hair pulling my head taut to his, he angles my face.
âI own all your fear, little hummingbird. No one else can have it.â
âAnd what if I donât want you to own those parts of me?â I ask boldly.
He smirks, his eyes showing me thereâs no room for me to argue.
âI donât ask permission to take whatâs already mine,â Gabriel says slowly just before his lips come down on mine in a crushing kiss.
I move to struggle from his hold, his words fueling me to desperately hold onto some semblance of choice, but Gabriel only holds me tighter and kisses me deeper. My arms are buried between us and I use what leverage I can to scratch through his t-shirt.
He pulls back slightly and uses one arm to pull his shirt off by the back of the neck. I trace my finger over the fresh cuts on his shoulders. They arenât deep and are no longer bleeding.
With the setting sun streaming through the window behind him, casting him in an otherworldly glow, the irony isnât lost on me that in this moment, Gabriel looks exactly like his namesake. A wolf. A hunter. His hair is loose and wavy, framing his face, and his beard is a little thicker than the last time I saw him.
God, heâs fucking beautiful.
âIf youâre going to scratch me up, you better fucking do it right,â he rasps with a smirk that tells me he wants any pain I can offer him, while his lips come down again, and Iâd be lying if I said I wasnât desperate for him.
Buttons go flying across the hardwood floor as my blouse is torn from my body. Gabriel devours my skin as quickly as itâs revealed to him with rough, open-mouthed kisses. I canât keep up with the way he feeds on me. Itâs a chaotic sort of mayhem. He bites down my arms, up my shoulders, everywhere his mouth can connect, and I know heâs been as starved for me as I have for him. I canât make sense of it.
I rake my nails down his shoulders as hard as I can, opening up the tiny cuts that already exist there. I donât do it on purpose, but I realize as he starts to bleed that Iâm seeking Gabrielâs blood. He groans into my collarbone before biting into my flesh. I yelp and dig my nails in deeper. His lips meet mine again and force me to open. Every single perfectly timed swipe of his tongue stokes the fire in me that burns for him.
A quick flick of his thumb and forefinger has my jeans undone. He lifts me with one arm and pulls them from my body and in one fluid motion they hit the floor, not once breaking the kiss to my lips. I wrap my legs around him as he begins to move. Gabriel presses me against the glass of the picture window. I suck in a breath when the chill of it hits my skin.
One finger trails the valley between my heaving breasts, downward over my belly button then abruptly into the black cotton and lace of the panties Iâm wearing that are soaked right through. Gabriel growls a sound from deep within his chest as heâs met with my desire.
âLook at you. I knew this dripping cunt would be ready and begging for meâ¦â I let my head fall back against the glass as he roughly slides two fingers into me. âSo you donât want my protection, but you want my cock?â he muses.
âI donât know what I want,â I gasp as his thumb presses into my clit with perfect pressure. âIââ
âYou want the illusion of choice so badly⦠give it to me, Brinley. How should I make you come first? How should I prove this perfect pussy is mine whenever and however I want it?â
My moans fill the air as he brings me to the brink of orgasm and then stops.
A desperate little whimper escapes my lips when Gabriel pulls his fingers from me and it makes him laugh, a deep dark delicious sound I would get down on my knees and pray for.
âYou donât have a choice, little hummingbird. Just like I donât.â
His inked skin is a stark contrast to mine unmarked. His arms are flexed with the weight of me in his hands, and my nails dig deep into his shoulders. But his eyes throw me off the ledge when they meet mine. He looks at me like he is the one begging.
âI donât care how you take me; I just want you. I want it all,â I beg, lost because I finally let myself believe what Iâve been fighting.
Gabriel is right, my body does beg for his. I want every single part of him. The thing is, now I know his secret.
His body also begs for mine.