JC followed Gabby’s lead back to her apartment. Up the front walk, through the security doors and up the elevator to the 5th floor he followed. The only sounds from her were her footsteps, low heels against the pavement and muffled thumps along the carpeted hallway. She was distant and quiet, like she had something on her mind.

She inserted her key and twisted it in one deadbolt lock and then the other. He followed her inside the stuffy apartment and waited for her to flip a switch to turn on a lamp.

But she didn’t.

Almost as soon as the door closed, he felt two hands land on his chest and push. Hard. Startled, he nearly lost his footing, but caught himself just before his back slammed against the door. Gabby—rather her shadow—moved toward him with quick steps and rapid shallow breaths. In the next moment her arms were wrapped around his neck and her tongue was in his mouth. Not that he was complaining.

He loved a woman that took control, wasn’t shy about her wants and needs and most of all showed pleasure to the extreme. Gabby was doing everything that turned him on and then some, from groans and moans and deep inhales to passionate, forceful kisses. Most of all, she had plastered herself up against him. He felt every ridge and curve of her body as if she were imprinting herself on him. In more ways than one, she was doing just that.

Fingers. He felt hers, reaching under the hem of his t-shirt and unbuttoning the fly of his jeans. And then working the zipper down. With a tug, they fell to his knees. He felt her hands again, moving around the band of his briefs but not daring to pull them down quite yet.

“What are you waiting for?” He whispered, his cheek against hers, his lips near her ear.

“You to stop me,” she answered.

He chuckled, low and sultry, but didn’t move except to reach around her, grip her perfect, supple ass and pull her toward him, up against him. He pressed himself into her, letting her feel what she was doing to him. Hoping she’d finish what she started.

Seconds later, the briefs joined the gathers of denim that sank to his ankles and pooled at his feet.

Her hands were warm as she held and stroked him, every move ebbing him closer to the point where he might have to push her down to the floor and satisfy an urgent, desperate need. His breathing was labored, loud and heavy in his own ears. He didn’t dare imagine how he sounded to her.

She seemed to have no problem with his breathing or, despite feeling like he might explode at any moment, how hard he was. A deep and throaty moan fell from his lips. He was strokes from coming when she stopped. And stepped backward.

“Gabby. What the fu--”

“Shhhhh,” she soothed. “I just need to catch up.”

Sounds flew through the air—familiar sounds to him. A zipper, the rustle of denim, the clunk of what he guessed was a shoe. A button went flying, ricocheting off of the brick. And then she was back, her warmth up against him. 

“Oh… fuck.” His knees were weak and he was unsteady on his feet at the realization that she was bare. They were skin to skin and she was so, so warm. Out of pure instinct, he ran a hand down her thigh and grabbed at her, lifting her leg so it curled around his hip. Her lips claimed his again as he pushed into her and she pushed back.

It was hot and quick and dirty, loud grunts and moans while the door rattled in the frame. JC struggled to stay upright while Gabby practically hung off of him. She came in shudders and convulsions, milking him and coaxing his climax soon after hers.

Gabby was standing, but swaying side to side. She was breathless. And giggly. “Okay, I really have never done that before. But I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

JC chuckled, thinking she was pretty cute. And funny. And hot. Why didn’t he come see her sooner? “Let’s try it up against the bedroom door. Or what do you say we get rid of these clothes and try it in the bed?”

“Mmmhmm,” she hummed, stepping back and grabbing his hand, pulling him toward the hallway leading to the bedroom. He shuffled, grabbing at his pants before they tripped him, finally kicking them and his shoes off at her bedroom door.

Gabby was already stripping off her shirt and bra, leaving only the pendant he’d picked out hanging from her neck and falling in that perfect spot above her breasts. She climbed up onto the bed and leaned back, crossing her legs at the ankles. JC could only stare, his eyes crawling the length of her body, covering practically every visible inch of smooth, golden brown skin.

“JC?”

 “Huh?”

“Are you coming?”

He blinked. He’d been staring awhile, he guessed. He couldn’t get enough of her, was the thing. He cleared his throat, lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it away, then moved toward the bed.

“Again? Eventually.”

***

It was either move to the couch or rub themselves raw on that tiny bed. Besides, Gabby’s neighbors downstairs were banging on the ceiling of their apartment, causing at least five minutes of breathless, cackling laughter.

They snuggled together on the couch, an empty pizza box on the table in front of them, a bowl of popcorn and a near empty bottle of wine between them.

“Think Pretty Woman is on? I bet we could catch the end.” Gabby flipped through the list of movies that she could order On Demand, frowning as she scrolled through the P’s with no hint of the film in sight. “Aw, I should have rented it.”

“I’ve already seen the end,” JC said, mid-yawn and wide arm stretch. “I’ve already lived the end.”

Gabby grinned, dropping the remote in his lap and scooting closer, up under his arm and against his chest. “Oh, yeah. You did come back to rescue the Princess. You hardly climbed the trellis, though.”

“In the movie, Edward climbs her fire escape actually, and I don’t think you have one. A tiny elevator with graffiti advertising suspicious good times will have to do.”

“Fair enough. You came.”

She felt him grin. “Several times.”

“Walked right into that one.”

“You seem to keep doing that.”

“Hint, sweetie. I’m doing it on purpose.”

“Hint, honey. I know that.” He snickered, digging for more popcorn. “So, now it’s your turn again,” he said, crunching in her ear.

“It is?”

“Yeah. Remember? She rescues him right back.”

“I’ve been doing an awful lot of rescuing, though.”

“That’s how it works.”

She tipped her head up so she could see him. “Okay. So, how I can I rescue you this time?”

He tapped her shoulder reassuringly. Ate more popcorn, sipped more wine.

 “You’ll figure it out.”