After nearly losing Gabe, I've come to realize just how much he means to me. Yet even though I might want to confess my true feelings to him, doing so would leave me far too vulnerable at a time when I can least afford it.
That's because devastating news about the Link Protocol and my grandmother are threatening to send my career, and my life, spiraling out of control.
With the demise of my only relative seemingly imminent and Gabe's unceasing demands weighing on me, I'm not sure how much more I can take.
I've never been under such relentless pressure...
What am I going to do?
A subtle breeze stirred the sail into action, causing it to flap and crack like an oversized whip. I swirled my fingers in Gabe’s hair, gently twisting the loose, damp curls. Gabe held me firm, with one hand around my midsection and the other cupping my breast.
When I thought I’d lost him, the feeling I experienced was about so much more than the physical. But now, having him here again, holding me, touching me and consuming me—I realized how connected I’d become to him.
I allowed my fingertips to slide down the back of his head, along his neck and towards the sun-warmed skin of his muscular upper back. Curling my fingers under, I dug the tips of my nails into his flesh as I further sought to reassure myself of his physical presence.
As I did, Gabe grunted and contracted his shoulder blades, drawing them together in a tight ball of sinew. I moaned in return and relaxed my grip, moving down further yet again until I reached the hard, round muscularity of his perfect ass, squeezing it and pulling it towards my hips.
Just then, Gabe separated his mouth from mine. As the satin soft feel of his lips moved away, I let loose with a disapproving pout.
Gabe chuckled as he looked down at me. “What’s the matter?”
Releasing one of my hands from his backside, I drew it up towards my face and pointed at my mouth.
“My lips miss you already.”
“Which ones?” Gabe said, with a devious smile on his face.
I returned his grin with one of my own. “You’re terrible, you know that?”
As such, power plays and passion are the heart of each and every story. The writer's creative tendencies may drift as the mood strikes, but the essence of all tales told wind up back at the same place... the polarizing difference between the sexes.
After all, what else is there in life?
When not glued to a keyboard creating tales of whimsy, Sloan loves to talk to fans! If you want to connect, you can do it in any number of ways: