I took off his hat and tasled his hair. He screwed up his face and held in a smile. He tried to push my hands away and put his hat back on, but I refused to let him until I was finished.
The sweatshirt he loved to wear so much hung loosely around my shoulders, much larger than I am. He pulled it tighter around me, putting the hood up, so it fell over my eyes. He kissed me off gaurd and I smiled, even though I couldn't see him.
"I can smell it in your breath," I said, making a disgusted face. "Is that the only reason you seem to want me right now?"
"I want you because I love you," he replied. I heard the bottle clink on the table.
"Then how come we only seem to have sex after you drink some booze, hmm?" I asked him, pushing the hood of the purple sweatshirt off of my head.
"Because booze makes me frisky," he smiled, picking up the bottle and taking another swig.
"Shouldn't seeing me make you frisky?" I smirked, crossing my arms over my chest. "I'd like to think that I'm the reason you pass out afterwords, not the alcohol."
Gabe couldn't help but let out a laugh. "Is this what you spend your time thinking about?" he asked.
"Yes," I simply answered.
"I spend my time thinking about you," Gabe said, looking me over, biting his lower lip.
"Maybe I don't want you tonight," I said, pulling the hood back up, letting it fall halfway over my face.
"Maybe I can't contain myself," Gabe replied, in smoothe voice, kissing my neck.
"Nooo," I whined, trying to push him away.
"Babyyy," he complained, grabbing me. I laughed as we fell on the couch so he was on top of me.
He pressed his lips against mine, sliding his hand up my thigh, tugging on my baggy basketball shorts. I heard the sound of the sweatshirt zipper slowly being slid down.
"Gabe," I managed to say between kisses. "Gabe." I repeated again, trying to breathe.
"Hmmm," he said as he kissed down my neck, moving closer and closer towards my chest.
Fighting the small moan stuck in my throat I took both of my hands and placed them on both sides of gabes face. " Sweety, no," I said.
He lifted his head up, meeting my eyes. He looked displeased. "You are really cramping my style, hun," he said. I felt his hands pass over my stomach and to my hips.
"I mean, I don't want to do this here on the couch," I smirked, sliding out from under him, and running into the bed room.
Gabe chased after me, catching me around the waist, tackleing me on to the bed. He sat on top of me, unzipping the sweatshirt all the way, pulling it off of me and throwing it on the floor, as I did to his shirt.
"I fucking love you," he said, attaching his lips to mine.
Where you drink champaigne and it tastes just like cherry cola
Hi Lauren
