Chapter 7

Iwake up with a heavy, tattooed arm draped over my waist. Gabe.

At least I know his name now,I think to myself with a smile. Although it wouldn't have mattered. I would have fucked him, knowing it or not.

I catalogue my body. It's sore and used in the best possible way. When I asked Gabe to fuck me into an orgasm-induced coma last night, he delivered. I lost count of how many times I screamed that man's name. I wonder if he went to classes on pleasing the female specimen, because I have never had sex this good. Don't get me wrong… I've had good sex, great sex even.

But sex with Gabe? It's next level.

I lift his arm and slide out of the bed. "Where are you going?" His sleep-filled, gravelly voice asks while that same arm reaches out to grab me.

"Bathroom," I tell him before I walk that way and shut the door.

The sex is great, but why is he still here? I turn on the shower and jump under the spray. After washing my hair and all the rest of my bits, I get out and wrap a towel around myself.

When I walk out again, I find Gabe sitting at my breakfast bar. I don't know what to say to him. This awkward morning after thing is the exact reason I usually flee a guy's house in the middle of the night.

"You're still here?" I ask him.

"I was going to cook for you, but your pantries are barer than Old Mother Hubbard's," he says, then adds, "So, go get dressed. I'll take you out for breakfast."

"Ah, no," I tell him.

"No what?"

"No, you're not taking me out for breakfast." I shake my head. "That's not what this is," I say, pointing a finger from him to myself.

"What is this?" Gabe asks while mimicking the gesture.

"This is sex. Nothing more. Nothing less. Pure, plain, no-strings sex. And this stays between us. I don't need Eloise finding out I broke her rule already," I warn him.

"Eloise is not the boss, as much as she likes to think she is. And this is not just sex," he says.

"Then it's nothing. It was a passing moment in time. I'm sorry, Gabe. You were good—great really. But I'm not looking for anything more than sex."

His brows furrow. "Why?"

"Because that's not what I want." I shrug. I don't need to tell him why I don't want a relationship. That's none of his business.

"Okay," he says, standing up and walking over to me. Gabe's hand wraps around the back of my neck and he pulls me into him. "For the record, I'm better than great, but you already know that." His lips press against mine, and just as quickly as they were there, they're gone. Then he steps back and makes his way to the front door. "Lock it behind me. You never know what kind of creeps are lurking around in the shadows."

I walk over and lock the door, puzzled by his parting words. He didn't agree to us being casual, no strings, and secret. He didn't argue with it either. Which is just weird.

Did I just run the best sex of my life out the door?

I should have at least gotten him in bed one more time before having that awkward conversation.

I've spent the day cleaning my apartment and doing laundry. I've only allowed myself to think about Gabe every other hour. The rest of the time, he's been invading my brain as an unwelcomed guest. Him and that cock of his.

It is a good cock, if ever there was one. I wouldn't mind moulding the damn thing and turning it into a vibrator. I wonder if he'd let me do that?

I pick up my phone and scroll through social media. I really need to get my mind off this guy.

Thirty minutes later, after watching countless short videos of stupid shit, I call Claire. Because I need to get out of this apartment, and seeing as she's the only single friend left in the bunch, she gets to be my dancing partner tonight. Pressing the little green button next to her name, I put the phone to my ear and wait.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Claire answers.

"I'm bored. I need to go dancing. You wanna go out?" I ask her.

"Sure, I'll meet you at yours in thirty. I need a drink or two," she says.

"Why?" I ask.

"I'll fill you in when I get there. Get dressed, sexy," she sings down the line.

After hanging up, I throw my phone on the coffee table and run into my bedroom. I rummage through my closet, looking for something that classifies as Claire's version of sexy. When I find a little red bodycon dress, I pull it from its hanger.

I wonder if Gabe would think this is sexy too?

No, no, I don't. I couldn't care less if he did or not. I scold myself for letting him seep into my mind again.

I put on the dress, then apply a full face of makeup, finishing with a natural nude gloss on my lips. I don't have much time left to work on my hair. So I tousle my hands through the roots, puffing it up a little, and call it a day.

A knock at the door has me running out of the room. When I open it, I expect to find Claire on the other side. Except it's not Claire. No, it's the tall, dark, and handsome stranger-not-stranger who keeps popping into my head very much uninvited.

Gabe lets out a loud whoosh of air. "Fuck, baby, you look hot as hell. It's a shame that dress is going to end up on the floor in less than ten minutes," he says while stepping into me.

"You need to go," I hiss out, my words rushed.

He squints his eyes, and then he's pushing past me and walking into my house. He goes straight for the bedroom. "Who's here, Daisy?"

"What? No one, but Claire will be… any minute now. Which means you need to go," I tell him. "She can't see you here."

Gabe turns around to face me. "Where are you going dressed up like that?"

"None of your fucking business," I tell him, folding my arms over my chest and aiming a glare in his direction.

There's a knock at the door and my eyes widen.

"Shit. Hide. Do not come out until we leave." I shove at his chest and quickly close him inside the bedroom. Then I pick up my clutch and open the door.

I don't let Claire into the apartment. Instead, I do my best to appear calm while urging her to follow me out.

"Thank god you're here. I need a drink and to dance and hopefully find a guy who isn't a fucking asshole," I say louder than necessary, before pushing Claire backwards and slamming my front door shut.

"You okay?" Claire asks.

"Great. Why?"

"You look flushed," she says.

"I was rushing. This doesn't just happen," I say while waving a hand over my face.

Claire rolls her eyes. "Please, your beauty is all natural."

It isn't long before Claire and I are walking arm in arm into Unhinged, one of the new clubs in Melbourne. We've been here a few times with Eloise and Dani. But those times we all spent in VIP. Tonight I want to be among the masses.

"Drinks, then dance floor," Claire yells into my ear over the sound of the blaring music.

I nod my head and take her hand. It's packed in here tonight. So we push our way through the sea of people until we finally reach the bar. Leaning over the wooden surface, I get the bartender's attention and order two vodka sodas.

"Cheers." I clink my glass with Claire's.

"Let's move," Claire says, nodding her head towards the overcrowded dance floor. I smile, and with our glasses raised above our heads, we make our way to the middle.

There are bodies everywhere but we manage to find enough space for us to move about. I can't dance. I'm well aware that I have no rhythm. Does that stop me from doing it? Not a chance. I'm not here to impress. I'm here to have fun with my friend.

Even if I wanted to impress, to pick up a random guy and have my way with him, my vagina says that's not an option. After last night's sexcapades, I think I need at least a week to let her recover.

That is until I look across the dance floor and find a pair of dark eyes staring right at me. His jaw clenched tight and his arms crossed over his wide chest. I spin, and by the time I make my way around again, he's gone.

Great, now I'm imagining him in more than just the shower?What kind of magical spell did this guy's dick put on me?