“What? Say it, Zoey, or you’re not going to get it.”
I turned my head, and his face was there. I put my lips against his and breathed, “Fuck me.”
He complied.
Gabe’s hands came to my hips and he pulled, tipping my ass back before he placed one hand on the base of my back and slid inside in one swift movement.
“Oh,” I breathed, my eyes rolling back in my head as he thrust deep, then deeper.
When his hand slipped along my stomach, then lowered and began massaging my clit, I reached a hand down to stop him.
“I can’t,” I begged, feeling overwhelmed.
He grabbed my hand, placing his over mine as he guided them even lower, until I could feel him moving in and out of me.
“Oh my God,” I moaned, stars flashing around my eyes as he moved our hands back up, our fingers working together until the orgasm rushed through me and I came long, loud, and hard.
I was barely aware of Gabe’s hands on my hips, holding me still as he pounded out his own release. His arm caught me around the waist before I slipped boneless to the floor, and I vaguely registered that he moved us to the bed.
When I was curled in to him, head on his chest, legs wrapped around his, he pulled the blankets up over us and whispered, “You can watch me play football any time.”
And then, even though I don’t know how we had the energy, we laughed as he held me in his arms.
Chapter Twenty-One ~ Gabe
I woke with a slight jumble of nerves, something I always had on opening day, so I left Zoey sleeping soundly in my bed and went for a run. By the time I returned, Zoey was gone, a note left where her head had lain.
I want to be there when Chris’s bus arrives, so I’ll see you later. Good luck today! XO Zoey
Now, a few hours later, camp was in full swing, the nerves had turned to adrenaline, and I was watching with a smile as kids milled around, talking with other kids they knew, meeting new ones, and moving their stuff into their cabins.
Dillon, Jasmine, and Serena had all taken off this morning, and although it was a bummer to see them leave, we made plans to get together over Labor Day weekend in Cherry Springs.
“Looks like a good group,” Reardon said. He was leaning against the railing of The Lodge, which was our main meeting place. This is where we’d hold the ope
ning ceremonies, the early morning meets, and the end of camp banquet. It was also the dining facility, and a place for campers to hang out when they had free time. Kind of the central hub of camp.
“Yeah,” I agreed as I surveyed the area. “A good mix of new blood and return campers.”
I watched as the counselors began forming groups with their assigned campers, directing them to where they’d be staying, and where they needed to be for the ten o’clock opening ceremonies. I didn’t mind public speaking. Especially when it was a bunch of kids who were here because they loved football and really wanted to be here. I looked forward to getting to know as many kids as I could and, hopefully, helping to fan the flames of their passion for the game.
My eyes caught on Zoey as she made her way through the mingling bodies, her arm thrown around a teenage boy I could only assume was Christopher. Tall for his age, with dark shaggy hair and a wide grin, Chris bore little resemblance to his aunt, but when they looked at each other, both talking animatedly, there was no denying their bond.
Not many twelve-year-old boys would allow a relative to walk around a group of their peers in such an affectionate manner, but I could tell it didn’t bother Christopher in the least.
Wanting to meet her nephew and let Zoey know I wanted to get together this evening, before all the craziness began, I jogged down the steps and over to where the pair had stopped.
“Hey,” I said as I neared them. Christopher’s head came up first, and when his eyes landed on me they widened. I knew he recognized me, which wasn’t surprising since it was my camp, but the look of awe and excitement that flickered across his face proved that Zoey was right, he was a fan.
Before either of them responded, I bent and kissed Zoey softly on the lips. Not just to reiterate to her that I wanted to be open about our relationship, but because I hadn’t kissed her yet today, and I’d missed her.
“Hey,” Zoey replied when I righted myself. “This is my nephew Christopher. Chris, this is…”
Christopher found his voice and cut her off.
“Gabriel Lewis,” he breathed, his youthful exuberance showing.
He looked between his aunt and me, his finger pointing first at me, then at Zoey.