Carbon: Devil's Rose #8

Chapter 8: Roman Grant

She tastes like fucking syrup and vanilla. I know it's the waffles and milkshake, but fucking hell, I can't get enough. My tongue runs over her bottom lip, my hands cradling her face, her fingers digging into my bicep. 

I groan from the depths of my throat into her mouth, Gabby pulling me closer in reaction. I'm thinking about everything and nothing all at once. I never want to leave this moment. 

Maybe I like her more than I realized. Maybe I'm fucking obsessed with her. Kissing someone has never felt this fucking good. I want to devour her. I want to have her, every fucking inch of her. I want to know what every part of her tastes like. 

That's not weird, right? I want to make her feel better than she ever has before. No one will compare, no one.

She gently lifts her lips from mine, her face flushed red, her lips plump.

"Woah," she breathes out.

"Yeah, woah," I answer, not having anything else to say.

"So are you okay with just seeing what happens, Carbon?"

"Fuck yes, I am."

She smiles, kissing me again gently. I'm both freaking out and feeling extremely calm at the same time. I'm about to lean in for another kiss, needing another to figure myself to fuck out, but her phone rings. 

If that's not the most cliché fucking thing that's ever happened to me, I don't know what is. It better be a life or death situation, I swear to whatever fucking god or goddesses or whatever the fuck.

"Lily, are you okay?"

I'm pretty sure that's her co-worker's name.

I don't hear what's being said on the phone but sensing from Gabby's face, she's going to have to go back to work soon. I don't want her to, but I should probably also get back to the bar. 

I'll take a few days off to go to my brother's bachelor party and wedding because I won't be missing that shit unless I'm dead, that's good enough. I can go on for the next two months doing the same thing that I've been doing for three months already. 

She grabs my hand and wordlessly says thank you to me for paying for lunch. As if she had any other choice than to let me pay. I'm not a fucking douchebag. That's what I don't get about the whole who-pays argument. 

It has nothing to do with the fact that she can't pay for it or I don't think she's an independent woman, it's human decency. I'm treating her the way she deserves to be treated, like a fucking queen. And even if that date didn't go well, fucking pay. Just fucking pay.

She hangs up the phone and before she can even tell me that we need to go back to the bookstore, I've taken her hand and I'm guiding her back to my motorcycle.

"Give me ten minutes, and we'll be there, little dove."

"She's just having a little anxiety, and I have to be there. She's such a close friend and I'm so sorry that I'm ruining this-"

"You don't have to explain anything to me right now, and you aren't ruining this, okay? I'm going to get you back, make sure you've got it under control, and we can talk later."

"Promise, Carbon?"

I lay my hands on her cheeks, kissing her forehead.

"I promise, Gabriella."

She takes a deep breath, calms herself down, and gets on the motorcycle once she's ready. She doesn't even flinch when I take off fast, only wrapping her arms tighter around my waist and paying close attention to the curves and the way my body shifts.