The Ground Rules Part 32

As the vibration hits my G-spot over and over, I feel myself nearing climax. I can't see Weston, but I can hear him-he's nearing too. And if I can hold off for just a second, I can time the grand finale perfectly.

But no can do.

Despite myself, I explode into waves of pleasure, my moans surprisingly loud.

When the pleasure finally recedes, I crash down on the bed, spent.

My body is numb.

"Incredible," he whispers.

I realize he hasn't climaxed yet, and I want him to.

"You can touch me now," I say playfully, looking back at him, "if you want to."

He jumps to his feet and lunges at me. His hands grab my hips, and he trails his tongue down my spine, all the way to the tip of my crack.

He puts on a condom as fast as humanly possible and presses into me-the sensation of him inside me is always so amazing-I can never seem to get enough.

He reaches his climax almost instantly.

We both crash onto the crisp white sheets, our bodies fused.

Chapter Seventeen.

Tell me I'm better than him.

"I THINK THIS MIGHT BE the most memorable present I've ever received," he whispers, his lips against my earlobe.

I laugh. "I think I enjoyed it more than you did."

He strokes my hair away from my face. "I sincerely doubt that. That was astonishing."

I turn over and reach for him. I wrap my arms around him-his shirt is soft against my naked skin. "Lie with me."

He lies beside me and presses against me, his arms hold me tight and keep me warm.

We lie like this for what seems like an eternity, without words. I think about how wonderful it would be to be snuggled in his arms like this forever. Almost as if he's reading my thoughts, he says, his voice soft, "I wish you could stay the night."

My heart fills with b.u.t.terflies. "Me too."

"But...we can't."

"No, we can't," I agree.

I hate these d.a.m.ned rules.

"It would be nice to wake up next to you," he says.

It would be.

"You have no idea what I look like first thing in the morning," I joke, trying to lighten the mood before I start to cry. "And the morning breath...you have no idea."

He laughs a hearty laugh-the sound of it in my ear is wonderful.

"Trust me...it's better off this way." There is genuine emotion in his eyes.

"I trust you."

"Mirella," he whispers, hesitating. "It's been over three weeks since we last saw each other."

"Yes?"

"I've been concerned about the last time we were together," he says with uncertainty in his tone.

I know what he's asking.

"I've had my period," I rea.s.sure him. "There's nothing to worry about."

"Good," he says, squeezing me tight.

And I wonder...what if it hadn't been...good.

Would he have stood by me? Or would he have insisted I get an abortion? My intuition tells me it would be the latter. But I honestly have no clue. A baby would be pure chaos...and completely unexpected.

And I know how Weston hates the unexpected.

I receive a surprise e-mail from Kathryn, addressed to both Gabe and me.

h.e.l.lo Mirella and Gabe, Weston and Bridget were wondering if you would like to join them for dinner at Lake Point Tower this Thursday night, at six o'clock, followed by a visit to Adler Planetarium.

If so, will you be needing the car service?

Please get back to me at your earliest convenience, Kathryn Gabe calls me from work at lunch time. I'm a little giddy when I answer-I love when Gabe calls me from work-it's a rare occurrence.

"So, this is unusual," he says, his voice upbeat. "A date on a school night."

"Yes," I agree. "It's been a while since we've all been together."

"Yeah, it has."

"You think it will be awkward?"

He laughs. "No...not at all."

I laugh too. Yes...how could it not be?

"I'm not sure it's a great idea," I confess. "Things have been running so smoothly. Why mess with that?"

"I don't know," he says. "Maybe it's a good idea. Maybe it will rein us in, in case any of us were entertaining delusions, getting carried away. Show us who belongs with who, you know what I'm saying?"

He leaves me speechless for a beat-his words shock me. Occasionally Gabe will say something insightful and eerily apropos, and I almost wonder if he's been spying on me.

"Maybe you're right. Listen, I need to go. I need to get lunch ready for the girls."

The thing is...his words have rattled me.

Gabe's words are still on my mind when I get dressed for our double date. I've chosen my favorite skinny jeans and a breezy, white Bohemian top.

Is Gabe right?

Do I need to be reined in?

Will seeing Weston with Bridget knock me back to reality? Because Gwen is right-I have been stumbling a little.

It will probably not be easy, I admit to myself. I've been very good at not thinking about her. When Weston and I get together, it seems there's just us two in the whole world, and I often forget he has a whole other life I'm not a part of-a whole family, children I've never met, a home I've never seen-multiple homes I've never seen.

And now I've managed to self-talk myself into a mood.

By the time I touch up my makeup and fix my hair, I'm officially b.i.t.c.hy. I don't want to go on a double date.

I want to see Weston...and only Weston.

And I remind myself, this is exactly why I try not to think about these things.

As I slip on my open-toed wedges, I kiss the top of Claire's head. "Promise you'll be good for Caroline?"

"I promise," she says in her sweet voice. I can't resist kissing her on both cheeks.

"You too, Chloe." I kiss her cheeks as well.

My two beautiful girls.

"We won't be late."

A wide smile stretches across Caroline's face. "Have fun," she tells us, adjusting her dark-framed gla.s.ses.

"We'll try," I say, half-rolling my eyes, still a bit cranky-I just can't seem to shake it.

We ride to the city in Gabe's truck. There's no way on earth he would ever accept a ride in Weston's car-probably not even if we were stranded in the middle of nowhere, dying of dehydration.

Of course, I'm not about to argue with him.

"You don't look happy," he points out, his eyes fixed on the road.

"Hmpf," I grunt.

He laughs a little. "What's the problem?"

"I don't know. I'm just not looking forward to it."

"But we had fun with them before, didn't we?"

"We did," I agree. "But that was before..."

"Before we all f.u.c.ked each other?"

"Well, I wouldn't have put it quite that way, but yes," I say, trailing my finger along the seam of my jeans. "I just think it'll be awkward."

"Yes, maybe," he agrees. "I've been thinking about how I'll react. I'm sure I'll want to punch the guy in the face."

I laugh a little. "Please restrain yourself," I plead, half-serious. "He wouldn't stand a chance."

"He wouldn't. I could kill the guy."

My smile fades. "You could."

And I think about it for a second.

He could.

Weston works out two hours a day but is nowhere as big as Gabe. And Gabe is a brawler-it's in his blood. In his younger days, he was arrested twice for a.s.sault-a few too many drinks resulting in a few ill-advised bar fights-messed both guys up pretty good. But in recent years, he's taken out his aggression in MMA training, and it has been a G.o.dsend. With his training, and his primal taste for blood, he could definitely do some damage.

Yes...Weston should definitely not get on his bad side.

We meet Weston and Bridget at the Lake Point Tower.

I spot the familiar sleek town car drive up and get b.u.t.terflies in my stomach-not the good kind. Edward walks around the car and waves. I smile brightly at him-my first smile in a while. My smile fades as he opens the door for Bridget and Weston. Bridget looks fabulous in a cream fitted suit and stiletto pumps, and I suddenly feel frumpy in my jeans and cheap top. She flashes her megawatt smile at both of us as she walks in our direction. Weston is dressed more casually-designer jeans and a dark fitted V-neck shirt. As he walks behind her, he almost looks like a little boy clinging on to this larger-than-life woman.

Wherever she is, Bridget owns the place.

She air-kisses me on both cheeks. "It's so nice to see you again."

The whole thing is surreal-our exchange is so ordinary-so typical-there's no indication whatsoever we've been with each other's husbands. She certainly doesn't seem to be holding a grudge.

She gives Gabe a quick hug, and I cringe inwardly, visions of their naked bodies intertwined. My gaze travels to Weston who gives me a sheepish smile-I can tell he's in agony-the strangeness of the situation is not lost on him. He offers his hand, and I smile up at him as he smiles at me, both of us on the same page.

"Gabe," Weston says as he shakes his hand firmly.

"Weston," Gabe says.