Holy God. She’d forgotten how handsome he was in person. Up close. Way up close. Dark jeans, a short sleeved black t-shirt and boots, the slightest bit of scruff on his face and a wild, finger-combed, wavy hairdo awoke her body in a way it hadn’t been awakened in awhile… at least a year.  His scent—faintly masculine, spicy and clean was driving her wild. JC was worlds apart from anyone she’d ever met before or since. He had a visceral effect on her, one she just couldn’t shake. And she’d tried.

During the oddly pleasurable moments standing in the living room with him, his arms around her waist, hers resting on his shoulders, Gabby had to regain her control over herself. It was different when she was out with someone and didn’t know how things would end up. This evening had started with clear intentions. And it wasn’t like he was new. It had happened before.  

That didn’t help to make her any less nervous. Did lightning ever strike twice? Maybe it was so incredible the first time because of the circumstances and the situation. They were new to each other and there was such a feeling of selfishly drinking each other in because they might never see each other again.

She never expected him to keep his promise. But here they were a year later. Weird. And awkward. But the anticipation was delicious.

She took JC by one hand, grabbed the handle of his suitcase with the other and led him down a darkened hallway to the back of the apartment. She flipped on a light, revealing her small and cozy bedroom. Most of it was occupied by the bed and a dresser but she’d also made room for a writing desk and a chair. There was one window, over which hung a sheer curtain that matched the print in the quilt on the bed.

“So this is where the magic happens.” JC plopped onto the bed, leaning back and kicking off his shoes.

“In theory.”

“Well, we’re gonna be changing that to fact.”

Gabby’s head shot up just in time to catch a wink and a smirk from him. She laughed and shook her head, unsure of what to say in response, so she glossed over it. 

“The uh, bathroom is through there.” She pointed at a closed door. “Make yourself at home. Would you like something to drink?”

“Nope,” he said, patting the mattress next to him. “I would like you to relax and come over here.”

Gabby did as he requested, kicking off her heels and joining him on the bed. Since her bedroom was so small, she’d traded in her queen mattress set for a full. There was plenty of room for her, but adding another person made it impossible to lie on the bed without squeezing next to him. Not that this was a problem at all.

“You seem tense. Is everything okay?”

While he spoke, he brushed his fingers across her forehead, pushing wild, errant hairs back and off of her face. His touch was gentle, warm and soothing. And familiar. She began to relax.

"It's just weird having you here. I don't see you for a year and then two days ago you call me up, out of the blue and... boom. You're here. It's like I didn't really have time to get ready."

"Yeah. Sorry about that. I just decided to come. I expected you to be busy, actually. It's your birthday weekend-- why don't you have plans?"

Gabby shrugged and allowed her hand to reach across her body to his. Starting at his wrist, she stroked his bare arm up to his shoulder and back down. He didn't seem to notice or be bothered by it. He lay still on his side, propped up on one elbow, his face oh, so close to hers.

"You have no friends here? No one to throw you a party and hang out till all hours of the night? Not even anyone special to take you to dinner?"

"Thanks for making me sound like a loser,” she said, giggling. “I have friends. I just hadn’t made any plans. And,” she added quietly, “Maybe I subconsciously thought you’d come.”

"Maybe that’s why I couldn’t let go of the idea of coming out here. So what did you plan on doing?"

Again, Gabby shrugged. "Maybe going to the Beer Garden for awhile. Getting slightly drunk. Walking back to my apartment, ordering a pizza and watching a movie."

"That sounds cool. Want some company?"

Gabby smiled and, unable to resist a minute longer, lifted her lips to his. She kissed him briefly and softly, their lips just barely whispering past each other. When she relaxed again, he took his turn and lowered his head to hers. For a few moments, the only thing that mattered in the entire world was JC.

The kiss, which was slow and playful, light and lazy, took a hairpin turn and with a deep inhale, JC's body leaned until he was laying on her. Her palms ran the length of his arms, squeezing their way up to his neck and the nape of his hair. She turned her head to deepen the kiss and opened her legs wider to make room for him.

This... tonight... was a long time coming. It had taken a few months to stop thinking about him every night and day dreaming about him. Gabby tried to date, but it wasn't fair when she wanted every man to be JC, to flirt easily with her and follow her with his eyes like he thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. After a few okay dates and two very bad ones, she'd given up altogether. It wasn't fair that he lived in LA and she lived in New York. Why couldn't she have met him while she lived there? Maybe she wouldn't have left.

Maybe she shouldn't have left.

"What are you thinking about?" JC asked, breaking the kiss and leaning on one arm while stroking her face with the other.

"About how you laying on me is the best thing I've felt since the last time you laid on me." He dipped his head in mock shyness but brought it back up again. "I was thinking about how I'm a little nervous, but I'm really glad you're here."

"You know what? I'm kind of nervous, too."

The admission seemed like the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. "You are not," she said. "You're the most confident man I've ever met."

"Nah. I fake it well. You see how long it took me to call you."

She reached up and stroked his face, ran her fingers through his hair, cradled his chin in the palm of her hand. "I love that you did."

"Good," he whispered, lowering his mouth to hers again, this time more forcefully, nibbling at her bottom lip and stroking her tongue with his. His pulse pounded through his chest to hers and lower on his body, a long, warm thickness pressed into her belly. Her body reacted to him, writhing and arching. She was barely breathing, her heart was racing, her hands were shaking... it was the best feeling in the world.

JC tore his lips from hers and sat up, kneeling in front of her and began clawing at his t-shirt. He pulled it up and over his head, revealing a muscular chest and chiseled abdominals. A light layer of hair covered him, the field narrowing the closer it came to the band of his jeans, which he was working diligently to remove. Gabby took the hint and pulled her shirt up and off. Next went the jeans and the moment they were off and over the side of the bed, he resumed his spot on top of her and picked up the kiss where he left off.

"This bed," he said, between breathless warring of lips and tongue, "is so small. I hope we don't roll off of it."

"Don't worry," Gabby answered, lifting her lips to his. "I'm an expert at sleeping on this bed."

"But," he argued, on another break for air, "we're not gonna be sleeping. At least not yet."

"Just don't get crazy and we'll be just fine," she said. Impatient, she gripped his shoulders and brought him to her again. "I'm ready, when you are."

"I've been ready for a long time. I’ve been ready since you walked out of my house a year ago."

Gabby’s eyes slid closed, a heavy, breathy sigh escaping her lips. “Honestly? Me too,” she admitted. "We have a lot of time to make up for, hmm?"

It was as if the admission that she’d missed him and had been thinking about him ignited a furnace. He moved lightning fast, quickly but gently ridding her of the wispy lace that made up her bra and panties and the thick cotton underwear that he wore. His skin was clammy—warm but bearing a light sheen of sweat as he settled between her open legs and claimed her mouth again.

There was a tentative, inquisitive push and then a more forceful one, guided by the movement of his hips. In moments, she was full of him, the feeling so familiar and yet just far away enough to be like new. Her body responded to his, from the sweat to the twitching of limbs and deep, satisfied groans that started off as under-the-breath mutterings but as momentum built, grew as loud and boisterous as the sound of the bed rattling against the wall.

“Remember? Remember this?”

“Unh……shit!”

“If I recall,” he said, grinning down at her while panting and gasping for air, “You like it hard.”

Gabby wanted to laugh, to tell him he was remembering everything perfectly, but could only ride along, clinging to his back and digging her nails into his skin. He was a piston, each movement equally smooth and forceful, galloping toward a certain, pleasurable goal. His eyes clamped shut and his mouth fell open and then his face, a deep pink, twisted into a grimace.

“Fuck, Gabby!”

She searched for her voice, wanting to answer back but all that came out was a whimper before her body tensed and pulsed and the air left her lungs. She all but screamed, instinctively wrapping her shaking, shuddering body around his convulsing torso.

All that was left was to collapse against each other and try to breathe through the thick, muggy air of the apartment. Gabby let her eyelids slide shut and a satisfied smile settle itself on her lips.

“Someone’s happy,” he teased. His voice was nothing but low sexy grit, the kind that rode up every nerve in her back and told her that he’d put his all into it.

“So happy,” she responded, her lips still turned up in a peaceful grin. After a few moments, an eerie feeling of being watched overcame her and she opened her eyes. Piercing blue eyes fixated on her, his face bearing the oddest expression.

“Is anything wrong?” He shook his head. “What are you looking at? Do I look weird? Am I drooling? Something on my face?”

He laughed and cupped her chin in his palm, then leaned down and kissed her. “Nope,” he said when he lifted his head again. “You, Gab-Gabrielle, are perfect.”