Saviour (Saviour #1)(12)
For the next half hour I forget all of my troubles and dance like a maniac. Although, I am sort of keeping half an eye on Gabriel at the same time and my stomach lurches each time I look at him, because he is looking right back at me. While I cut my best dance moves, he is deep in conversation with two blokes and I wonder if they might possibly be his brothers, they look alike but the other blokes look slightly older. The girl who was talking to him at the bar appears at his side and says something, he looks straight back over in my direction before turning back to her, and with whatever he says, she walks away. Ha good. See yaaa biatch. Why I should care who he talks to I don’t know but it would seem that I do. I watch as the other blokes seem to collapse into fits of laughter, while Gabe shakes his head at them, he looks back at me, smiling and shaking his head and shrugs, I smile back but have no idea at what
I have switched to water but Lu comes back from the bar with another round of shots for us all
“You’ll be the death of me” I say as I knock mine back
“Well death by cock suckin cowboys has got to be better than being beaten to death by your husband” Whoa, that’s harsh, even by Jo’s standards. Trust her to say it how it is....
“Joanne! That was uncalled for” Jemma, as always, has my back
“Sorry, but it needs saying, I can’t help but feel angry with you Lauren, we’re your friends, you didn’t need to put up with this shit alone, you should have told us your husband was beating you on a regular basis, we would have got you out of there sooner. Why don’t you just not go home tonight, come and stay at mine?”
Lulu and Jemma are staring over my shoulder. I panic as my first thought is that Jay has walked in. I spin around and Gabriel is standing right next to me. Fuck, how much has he heard? The last thing I want is him knowing what I have going on, I don't know if I trust him yet and I definitely don’t want his sympathy, the last thing I want, is anyone’s sympathy. It's been one of my biggest issues in telling anyone about what my husband does to me, I don't want people feeling sorry for me. I am not going to be a victim in all of this, I need to become proactive, and the only way I know to do that, is to leave him. Victims are the ones that stay and suffer. The ones that just endure the violence. That's not going to be me, I am leaving, and never again will I take any kind of crap from a man. Poor Gabe, he picked the wrong night to try and be nice to me, I hadn’t realised how much anger I have hidden under all the other emotions, mainly aimed at myself but right now I'm pissed off about what he might have heard. I search his eyes, his face for a clue. If he has heard anything he’s not giving it away.
“Hey” I say, still searching his face but I can barely focus. That is to be my last drink of the night.
He smiles and it would seem his smile has a direct line to my clit.
“You sure you won’t change your mind and come home with me? The offer’s still there” He heard. He’s asking out of sympathy.
“Don’t Gabe; don’t ask me that, not out of pity”
He steers me by my elbow, out of earshot of the girls
“Look Lauren, I’m not entirely sure what’s going on with you and your husband but I don’t pity you, why would I? I’m sorry your marriage is over but quite frankly, for me, that’s a good thing, I want you, I want you to come home with me so that I can show you just how much I want you. But I also fully respect your decision not to cheat on your husband whilst still living under the same roof and I’m sorry for keep asking, actually, no I’m not but I do understand. Meet me tomorrow, we will find you somewhere to live and then neither of us will have cause to feel guilty” He didn’t hear. He doesn’t know. Good, that’s good. I’m so drunk.
“So, there is an ulterior motive to helping me find somewhere to live, it’s not just out of the goodness of your heart, you just want me away from my husband so I won’t feel guilty about f*cking you, that way you won’t feel guilty about making me feel guilty?”
He rakes his hand through his hair and looks down at me; I watch as a nerve tics in his jaw as he just stares at me for a few seconds, he shakes his head,
“Lauren, I want you away from your husband, because you told me you’re leaving him and need somewhere to live, all the rest is inconsequential, to a degree. Yes I want you but I also have a place you may or may not want to live. Meet me in the morning, when you’re sober and we will go from there”
He tilts my chin up and looks down at me, even in my heels he is over a foot taller than me, he must be at least six three, six four. That’s really tall when you’re only five feet two inches tall/small?
He kisses me very, very softly on my mouth, not letting go of my chin. My arms go up and around his neck, his arms move around my back and he pulls me in and presses me tightly against him, our kiss grows deeper and I pull on his hair, his taste, his smell, everything about him feels like it was made especially for me, to fit me and I know that sometime in the very near future, I will have sex with this man, and I can’t wait. He breaks away first and rests his chin on top of my head for a minute, then he whispers into my ear
“Fuck Lauren, what are you doing to me? I want you like you wouldn’t know, I really need to go before I drag you out of here by force” Mmmmm force, I like force, when it’s between consenting adults of course.
“That look isn’t helping my resolve Lauren, I meant bad force, not kinky force but I will store that thought away for the future, I’m going, I will see you in the morning, Ciao Bella” How did he know that? How did he know what I was thinking? He kisses my forehead and is gone. I actually feel a stab of physical pain at his departure and miss him instantly! Grow up Lauren, my brain is screaming at me. Grow up, what are you thinking? He is so not what you need in your life right now.