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His Lover's Little Secret Andrea Laurence 2022/8/3 13:54:41

There was no running from Gavin now. He would forever be a part of her life. And she didn’t have the strength to keep fighting this. He might never love her the way she loved him. But she couldn’t pretend that this meant nothing to her.

Gavin groaned loudly, pulling her from her thoughts. He moved his hand up to cup her breast, the intensity of their movements increasing with each moment that went by. She wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.

Opening her eyes, she looked down at Gavin. His eyes were closed, his teeth biting down on his lip. He was completely wrapped up in his desire for her. For her. Just the way she was. He’d told her that the night she fought with Viola, but she wasn’t ready to listen. Perhaps he really meant it. Perhaps he wouldn’t ask her to change and she wouldn’t betray how weak she was by giving in to his demands.

Perhaps one day he might love her for being herself.

That thought made her heart soar with hope and her body followed. The pleasure surged through her, her cries echoing in the large, tile-floored room. Gavin quickly followed, digging his fingers into the flesh of her hips and growling with satisfaction.

When their heartbeats slowed and they snuggled comfortably into each other’s arms, Sabine spoke. Not the words she wanted to say, but the ones she needed to say. “Thank you.”

“For the paint. And all of this, really. But mostly the paint.”

“I assure you, the pleasure was all mine.”

Sabine laughed and nestled tighter against his still somewhat rainbow-colored chest. “That’s not what I meant. You’ve always been such a big supporter of my work. I haven’t...” Her voice trailed off as tears crept into her words. She cleared her throat. “I haven’t always had that in my life.

“After I had Jared and stopped painting, I began to worry that I might lose my touch. When you brought that canvas the other day and the ideas didn’t come, I was really worried my art career was done. Today showed me that I still have the creativity inside me. I just need to not put so much pressure on myself and have fun with it again. It doesn’t seem like much, but those body paints were a big deal. For me.”

“I’m glad,” Gavin said, holding her tight. “I have to say it’s the best fifteen bucks I’ve ever spent at the adult novelty store.”

“We should really call and check in on Jared.”

Gavin tugged her tight against him and shook his head. They had made love, showered off her artwork, eaten—as body paints are not a replacement for real food—made love again and taken a nap. He wasn’t anywhere near ready to let go of her. Not even just so she could grab her phone from the other room.

“I told my parents to call if there was a problem. I want you one hundred percent focused on enjoying yourself and relaxing. They’ve got it under control. We’ve only been gone for eight hours.”

He could feel her start to squirm, but he wasn’t budging. “How about we call in the morning?”

“Okay. I’m sure everything’s fine, but I’m just a nervous mama. I worry.”

“I know. But remember, our parents raised us, at least yours did. Mine hired very qualified people to do it. They know what they’re doing.”

“I’d rather you not use my parents as an example of good parenting.”

Gavin had never heard Sabine speak at length about her family or where she grew up. He knew it was somewhere in the Midwest, but she always seemed hesitant to talk about it. Since she opened the door, he’d take the opportunity. “Do your parents know about Jared?”

He felt Sabine stiffen in his arms. “No,” she finally said.

“What happened between you and your family?” Gavin asked.

Sabine sighed, her kiss-swollen lips pursing in thought. She didn’t really want to talk about it, but she needed to and they both knew it.

“Like I said, I wasn’t the child they wanted. I wasn’t willing to change who I was or what I dreamed of for them. They wanted me to be a quiet, mousy girl that would get up at dawn to cook for my husband and the other farmhands, take care of a brood of children and be content to sit on the porch and snap green beans. My two sisters didn’t see anything wrong with that, but it wasn’t what I wanted for my life. They couldn’t understand why I wanted a nose ring instead of a wedding ring. The first time I dyed my bangs pink, my mother nearly had a heart attack. My art, my dreams of New York and being a famous painter...that was all childish nonsense to them. They wanted me to ‘grow up’ and do something respectable.”