The Replay (Boys of Richland #3)

17. Cecilia

cecilia

. . .

The drive back to Gabriel’s place is quiet, the tension between us thick like a weight pressing into my chest. He’s staring out the window, jaw clenched, his fingers tapping a beat against his thigh, a rhythm that doesn’t match the calm I’m trying to find in the silence.

I should say something. Anything. Ask if he’s okay. But I already know he’s not. He’s drowning, and I’m stuck on the shore, wondering how to pull him out.

As we pull up in front of his house, I shift in the driver’s seat, fingers gripping the steering wheel like it’ll stop the nervous energy buzzing in my veins. “I can head home if you need space,” I offer, my voice softer than I mean it to be, trying to gauge his mood.

I expect him to say yes. Take the out. But instead, he surprises me.

“No. Stay.” Gabriel’s voice is rough, low, cutting through the silence. His hand finds mine, resting on my thigh, fingers brushing over the denim like he’s holding onto me for balance. “Please.”

My heart stutters. There’s something in his eyes—something desperate, a plea wrapped in all that tension.

“Of course,” I whisper, squeezing his hand.

We get out of the Jeep, the night air biting at my skin as we make our way to the front door. Gabriel unlocks it, and we step inside. The house is dim, quiet except for the low hum of the refrigerator. But before we can get upstairs, Julio’s voice slices through the silence.

“Where’s Adriana?”

Gabriel sighs, his shoulders sagging as he turns toward his roommate. Julio stands in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, eyes sharp with something close to rage. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this upset before. He’s normally the calm, level-headed one in their bunch.

“She’s still out with Kenji,” Gabriel says, his tone clipped like he doesn’t have the energy for this conversation. Not tonight.

Julio’s jaw tightens, the vein in his neck pulsing against his colorful tattoos. “You left her with him? Alone?”

“She’s fine, man,” Gabriel mutters, running a hand through his hair. “She’s a grown-ass woman. She doesn’t need a babysitter.”

Julio grabs his keys off the counter, snatches up his motorcycle helmet, and storms past us, muttering under his breath. “I’m going to check on her.”

Gabriel doesn’t stop him. Just watches as Julio disappears out the door, the sound of his bike roaring to life seconds later.

I glance at Gabriel, worry creeping into my chest. “Should I warn her?”

“Nah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “He might come to his senses on his way there, and if not …” He shrugs. “She knows how to handle him. Julio’s just …” He trails off, not finishing the thought, but I know what he’s thinking. There’s something brewing between those two, and I don’t want to be in the middle of it when things finally come to a head.

“If he causes a scene, I’m sure I’ll hear about it later.”

Gabriel grunts and then motions toward the hall. “Come on.”

I follow him upstairs, my steps light, but the weight in the air between us is heavy. The door shuts behind us, and the stillness thickens. I sit on the edge of the bed, fiddling with my sleeve, unsure if I should say something. I pushed Gabriel to deal with his feelings before, and it blew up in my face. I’m not making that mistake again.

He paces the room, hands dragging through his hair, his frustration radiating off him in waves. It’s like he’s searching for a fight that won’t come.

“I know Adam’s not the enemy,” he finally says, his voice strained like it’s costing him something to admit it. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Hell, he’s just trying to be nice. But I fucking hate him anyway.”

I stay quiet, letting him talk. His muscles are tight, his jaw clenched so hard I can almost hear his teeth grinding.

“He’s who she replaced us with, you know? Me. Carlos.” His voice cracks on his brother’s name, and my heart twists in my chest.

Gabriel stops pacing, his eyes locking on mine, raw and exposed. “I’m an asshole, Cecilia. I know that. He didn’t ask for any of this. But every time I see him, it’s like he’s taking what’s mine. What’s supposed to be mine.”

I stand up, closing the space between us. My fingers brush his arm, trying to anchor him. “It’s okay to feel that way, Gabriel. To be angry. Your feelings don’t have to make sense. Not to anyone else. And you don’t owe Adam a relationship just because he wants one.”

His eyes flicker, the storm in them softening just enough. “I know. But fuck, I don’t know how to let go of it.”

“You don’t have to. Not yet.” My voice is quiet, but firm. “You’ll figure it out when you’re ready.”

Gabriel’s hand cups the back of my neck, pulling me close until our foreheads touch, his breath warm against my lips. “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice rough. “For being here. For understanding.”

Before I can respond, his lips crash into mine, rough and desperate, like he needs this. Needs me. It’s not just a kiss—it’s a claiming, and I melt into him, my hands gripping his shirt as I kiss him back with the same hunger.

He doesn’t slow down. His hands slide to my waist, fingers digging into my skin as he lifts me, my legs wrapping around his hips as he carries me to the bed, the heat between us growing hotter by the second.

I know we were supposed to take things slow. We promised. But right now? Right now, I don’t give a damn.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Gabriel growls against my throat, his hands tugging my shirt over my head. His voice is low, possessive, like he’s staking his claim on every inch of me. “I don’t deserve you, but I’m keeping you anyway.”

“Don’t say that.” I don’t know how I manage to get the words out between the way he’s touching me, his fingers brushing over my skin like I’m his lifeline. “Of course, you do.”

His lips crash into mine again, harder this time, his hands working my jeans free. “I need you naked. Now.” His command sends a rush of heat through me, and I’m quick to help him strip off the rest of my clothes.

“Fuck, Cecilia,” he says my name like a plea. “You’re fucking perfect.”

The way he looks at me—like he’s devouring me with his eyes—makes me shiver. His eyes darken as he drinks me in, his expression growing hungrier by the second.

“Gabriel?” I ask when all he does is continue to stare.

My voice must snap him out of his reverie because the next thing I know, he’s stripping off his own clothes, each piece falling to the floor with a newfound sense of urgency.

I only have a few seconds to take in the rigid lines of his abdomen and his thick, muscular thighs before he’s on me again—his body pressing mine into the mattress, his lips claiming mine as if it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

It doesn’t take long before I’m drowning in him, my mind spinning, dizzy with desire.

“Gabriel,” I gasp, my hands clutching at his back, pulling him closer. I want this. I want him. And I don’t care about anything else.

“God, I want you.” His voice is rough, his breath hot against my ear as his hand slides between my thighs, teasing me with just enough pressure to make me gasp. “Tell me you want this. Want me.”

“Yes,” I breathe, my voice trembling with need. As if I could ever deny him. “Always.”

“Mine.” He growls against my skin, his fingers working me into a frenzy, his touch possessive and sure. And when I come apart in his hands, I know with absolute certainty that this is where I belong. I was an idiot for ever thinking we needed to take things slow.

Gabriel's lips trail fire down my neck, each kiss pulling a shaky breath from my chest as I come down from my release. His hands are everywhere—rough palms tracing the curve of my hips, sliding over my thighs, leaving a path of heat in their wake. I shudder beneath him, the world narrowing to the feel of his skin on mine, the weight of his body pressing me into the bed.

“Cecilia …” he groans, his voice thick and strained as if he’s barely holding himself together. There’s something raw about the way he looks at me now, like I’m the only thing keeping him from unraveling.

His lips find mine again, hungry and demanding, and I meet his kiss with the same intensity, my body arching into his. I can’t think straight, can’t focus on anything but the feel of him, the way his breath hitches when I run my hands down his chest. I’m desperate—aching—for more. I need him inside of me. I need … fuck. I can’t think.

“Tell me what you need,” he growls, pulling back just enough for his dark eyes to burn into mine, the heat in his gaze making my heart race. His thumb brushes over my lower lip, and I feel like I’m coming undone under the weight of his stare.

“I need you,” I whisper, breathless, my voice barely more than a plea. I don’t recognize this version of myself—the one who’s willing to beg. But for him? For Gabriel, I’d happily get down on my knees. “Please,” I gasp. “I need you inside me.”

He growls again, low in his throat, before his hands slide down to my thighs, spreading them open, his gaze never leaving mine. “Fuck, baby,” he breathes, his chin dropping down to his chest. “We said slow but …” he curses.

My body thrums with anticipation. “I don’t want slow,” I tell him. “I want you. I want this, Gabriel. Please.”

That’s all it takes to break the last of his control.

In one swift motion, he’s baring down on me, his length lining up between my thighs, his lips crashing down on my mouth in a kiss that steals the air from my lungs. I clutch at his back, nails digging into his skin, desperate to hold on to something—anything—as he moves against me. As he sinks inch after torturous inch into my dripping entrance.

Every touch is electric, every kiss is fire, and I feel like I’m about to burst, the tension between us coiling tighter and tighter until it feels like I might snap. His name slips from my lips, a soft moan that seems to drive him wild. His hands grip my hips as he moves faster, harder, his breath hot against my ear.

I’m lost in him, completely undone, my body shaking as the pleasure builds and builds until it’s too much, until I’m falling apart beneath him all over again. My mind is spinning, my heart racing, and his name is the only thing I can think, the only word I can say.

“Gabriel!” In one perfect, overwhelming moment, I shatter.

His hands hold me steady, grounding me as the pleasure washes over me, wave after wave.

But he doesn’t stop.

He moves against me with the same intensity, his lips tracing the curve of my neck, biting down just enough to make me arch into him. The rhythm of his hips is steady, relentless, dragging me higher and higher again, even though I feel like I’ve already given him everything I have.

“Fuck,” he growls against my skin, his voice thick, almost desperate. “Cecilia … you have no idea what you do to me.”

I can barely think, let alone speak. The sound of his voice—raw, strained, full of need—pushes me toward the edge again. Oh god. I can’t. No. It’s too much.

My nails dig into his back, the ache in me building all over again until every inch of me is begging for release. I’m dizzy, lost in the feel of him, the weight of him above me, the way his body moves with mine like we were made for one another.

He lifts his head, his eyes locking with mine. His gaze is dark, intense, filled with something deeper than just lust. There’s a raw vulnerability there, a look that makes my chest tighten, my heart twist. He’s not just taking me; he’s giving himself to me, in a way I wasn’t expecting.

“I need you,” he whispers, his forehead resting against mine. “I fucking need you, mí sue?a .”

The words hit me harder than they should. I don’t know if it’s the heat of the moment, the way his voice shakes, or the weight behind them, but something about the way he says it makes me feel like I’m falling. Like this is more than just sex. More than just desire. It’s everything.

I don’t answer him with words. Instead, I pull him closer, wrapping my legs around his waist, urging him deeper. My hands slide up to tangle in his hair, and I kiss him like he’s the only thing keeping me anchored to the earth.

He groans into my mouth, his body tensing as he pushes harder, faster. The friction is almost too much, my body burning with the overwhelming intensity of it all, and I feel that familiar tension coil in my stomach, tighter and tighter, ready to snap.

“That’s it. One more. Give me one more, baby,” he growls against my lips as one hand slips down between my thighs. Gabriel doesn’t miss a beat as he continues to thrust into me while his fingers circle my swollen clit. And within seconds, I fall apart in his arms all over again. Completely undone.

Gabriel is right behind me, his body shuddering as he buries his nose in the crook of my neck. His breath is hot and ragged against my skin. And his hips jerk one final time before I feel the hot spurts of his release.

For a moment, the world is still. Quiet, except for the sound of our breathing, heavy and uneven. Gabriel doesn’t move at first. He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he stays there, his weight comforting, his arms wrapped around me like he’s afraid to let go.

I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the warmth of him, the feel of his heartbeat slowly evening out against my chest.

“That was ….” He trails off, breathing heavily.

“Yeah. It was.” There’s a smile in my voice I don’t bother to hide.

With a quick kiss, Gabriel rolls off of me, his arms taking me with him and nestling my body into his side. “Thank you,” he murmurs, voice thick with exhaustion.

“For what? The orgasm?” I tease, poking at his side.

He flinches away with a smile that lets me know I found a ticklish spot. I might need to explore that another time. Maybe when I have more energy.

“No, you brat,” he admonishes but without any heat. “For being you. For …” He sighs, the sound filled with contentment. “For being exactly what I need.”