The Duality Principle (9 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Grace Allen

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Math, #rebel, #Sex, #bad boy, #summer romance, #motorcycles, #Portland Maine

BOOK: The Duality Principle
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“No way. It’s late and it’s dark.” He didn’t want her walking all the way back alone.

“Well, Jamie is probably ready to go too.” She glanced at the pool table. They’d started a game, and Jamie was laughing, an open palm pressed against Dean’s chest. She wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. At least, not with Gabby.

Connor hopped off the chair and pulled the truck keys from his pocket.

“If I know Dean, he won’t let Jamie go until he’s let her win at least twice. Besides, they’re all trapped here until I say so. I’m the designated driver, remember?”

She slid off her chair too and looked up at him.

Say yes.

Give me a little more time with you.

“Okay. Just let me tell Jamie that you’re taking me home.”

He watched as she found her way to the pool table and cupped her hand around Jamie’s ear. Dean was leaning low, about to take his shot, but then looked up and met Connor’s eyes across the room. Connor dangled the keys to the truck in his hand, pointed a finger at Gabby and tilted his head in the direction of the door. Dean gave him a silent nod. If nothing else, at least almost a decade of friendship had made him into a halfway decent wingman.

Gabby hurried back, and this time, she was the one to take Connor’s hand in hers when they were out on the street again. He didn’t let go of her until they got to Dean’s truck.

“Connor?” she said when he fit the key in the ignition. He paused and looked across the bench seat. She was curled up in his sweatshirt, hair messed up from the windy sea air and looking so fuckable he could hardly stand it. “I had a nice time tonight.”

Whether she was talking about the fireworks or the tent or the bar, he had no idea. It didn’t matter.

“Me too.”

She smiled and blushed. When he pulled up in front of her house, she didn’t rush to get out of the cab. Connor cut the engine.

“One more question,” he said.

Her eyes were wide. Serious. “Yes?”

He swallowed. Of all the things he’d done, what he was about to ask somehow seemed the most daunting.

“Can I have your phone number?”

Gabby laughed loudly at that. It was possibly the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

“Of course. I’ll give you my email too.” She dug into her bag and pulled out her phone. “Give me yours. We’ll trade.”

Connor handed his phone over and took hers in return. He held it for a minute, enjoying touching something that belonged to her. When they’d given each others’ phones back, Gabby seemed to hesitate for a moment, then slid slowly across the bench until she was right next to him.

“I have one last question too.”

He could feel her breath on his face. “You want to keep my sweatshirt.”

She grinned and shook her head. Then she pulled off her glasses, folded them closed and put them on the dashboard. His dick twitched in his pants, just like it had when he took them off her in the tent. She rocked that whole sexy librarian look, big time.

“Can I get a goodnight kiss?”

“A goodnight kiss,” he repeated. She nodded. “I think that would be all right.”

“Good.”

She leaned in and brushed her lips shyly over his. It was gentle at first, and he let her control the kiss, let her choose the pace and the pressure, slow and soft. But then she changed the game on him, opening her mouth and sliding her tongue along his. She made the tiniest noise of pleasure when she did it too, and Connor couldn’t stifle his groan. He slid his right hand around her and settled it into the dip at the small of her back, pulling her forward until she had no choice but to press herself against him. She rose up on her knees to put her hands on his shoulders, and Connor gripped the steering wheel tightly in his left hand. It was the only thing keeping him from grabbing her hips, tearing off those tiny cotton shorts of hers and pulling her down on top of him.

It seemed to last forever, until his hands got sweaty and the windows began steaming up around them. Gabby sucked his lower lip into her mouth, then giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“We’re gonna get in trouble if we keep this up,” she said.

“I have no problem with that.”

He didn’t bother to say that he was pretty sure he was in trouble already.

Gabby shimmied away and put her glasses back on. She turned back to grin at him, one bare shoulder peeping out of his sweatshirt and her hair falling over her face. She looked like his wildest schoolgirl fantasy come to life. She needed to get inside before he cracked.

She wriggled out of his sweatshirt and handed it to him. “Goodnight.”

“Night. See you Saturday.”

She hopped down out of the truck and closed the door. Connor watched her cross the lawn, resisting the urge to lift his sweatshirt to his face and breathe in the scent she was sure to have left behind on it until she was out of sight. When she finally went inside, he buried his nose in the cotton. It smelled amazing.

He dropped it into his lap, mashed his head against the headrest and stared up at the ceiling. God, he deserved a fucking medal for holding himself back like that. She was hitting all his trigger points, finding everything that set him off and making him harder than he’d been in his life. He didn’t just like doing it in public—it wasn’t just the thrill of getting caught. He got off on being totally filthy with a girl, in watching her completely give in to lust regardless of where they were. That wasn’t happening with Gabby in the cab of Dean’s truck, especially after their little question and answer period that had only made him like her more.

Connor sighed and started the engine. He hadn’t found out everything he’d wanted to, but they had time. He’d be seeing her in two days. He could ask her more questions on the hike.

If he was able to keep his hands off her, that was.

With a smile that stretched his cheeks to cartoon-like proportions, he drove back to the tavern. It had cleared out a little since they’d left, and he snagged a spot out front. He found Dean in the back, still at the pool table. Mikey was playing him now and losing. Badly.

“Where’d Jamie go?”

Dean sank a solid then stood up. “She’s about to ply me with some coffee. Just went off to the bartender to ask them to brew me a pot. What is it with these women trying to make honest men out of us?”

“You’re sober enough to drive, then?”

“I will be soon.”

“Good.” Connor handed over the keys to the truck. “Thanks for letting me take Gabby home. By the way, if you ever touch her again, I’ll kill you.”

“About that.” Dean balanced his cue against the table. “You’re into her. I can tell. But you might want to back off on this one.”

Connor’s smile hit a pothole. “Why?”

“Because she is who she is, and you are…” Dean waved a hand in front of him. “You.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Whoa, chill. All I mean is, she seems like kind of girl who might take certain
things
seriously.”

“Things…like, sex?” Connor chuckled. Dean didn’t know the half of it. “Don’t worry about it. We’re good on that front.”

“So you’ve changed your M.O. with her, then?”

“Well, no—”

“Ah. I’m guessing she wasn’t the one who started up shit with you back in the tent, right?” Dean nodded back over his shoulder. “I think poor Mikey’s been scarred for life.”

Connor’s fingers tingled with the familiar need to curl into fists. “She was into it. Trust me.”

But it made him think. Which one of them had initiated things in the tent, or even the other day on the docks? If he thought about it, the reality was, both times it had been him. And Gabby’s kiss in the truck had taken things at about a quarter of the ridiculously fast pace he’d been careening towards whenever he was around her. Still, she hadn’t so much as flinched when she’d heard a few more details about the reckless kid he’d been. She said she saw more in him, and that made him want to show her everything.

Dean bumped a fist against his shoulder. “All I’m saying is, she doesn’t seem like your type. And you probably shouldn’t get involved anyway. She’s outta here in a few weeks. Not the best time for you to get all emo over a girl.”

It was a little late for that.

And she
was
leaving but not yet. He still had time to get this right.

Chapter Nine

On Saturday morning, Gabriella didn’t jump out of bed as usual, ready to start the day. She just lay there, staring at the ceiling. She’d been awake half the night, her pulse pounding in anticipation, too excited to sleep. In a few hours, she’d be spending the day with Connor—an entire day away from her research and her doubts, filled instead with clean mountain air and him by her side.

As if she’d have been able to get any work done anyway. She was supposed to have spent Friday working, but her thesis prep remained untouched, especially after getting an email from Connor confirming their plans for today. She hadn’t been able to think about anything but him since he dropped her off two days ago.

She turned her head to glare at where her laptop sat folded up on her desk, shadows crossing over the cover. Outside her window, wind chased the early morning sunlight through the tree limbs. The sight made her sigh. The angle of the sun was already a little bit different than it had been when she first got here in early June. Although this part of the summer once held so much promise for her, today it was a reminder of how the clock was ticking. She was running out of time before the fall semester began, but it was impossible for her to concentrate on that now.

She still hadn’t quite recovered from what Connor did to her in the tent at the park or the way he kissed her in Dean’s truck. How he’d gripped her with that one big hand and pulled her to him, every line in his body stretched tight as a wire. Gabriella closed her eyes at the memory. Even when she’d been so sure what they had wasn’t going anywhere, he’d proved her wrong. This thing between them was another paradox: him the unstoppable force and her, the immovable object. A duality, and both could not be true at once. If an irresistible power existed, then it logically followed that that there couldn’t be any such thing as an unyielding entity, so how much longer could she deny what she craved? With Connor, she’d finally found a glimpse of what she’d been looking for, even though locking up that side of her was the thing she came to Portland to square away. She thought she had to prove to herself she couldn’t be both sides of the coin, that she had to pick one way to be, that there was no way to be both. All her logic was failing her.

“If A equals B, then if you do the same thing to A and to B, the results will be equal,” she said to the empty room. “I am ‘A’: an intelligent, independent woman, a mathematician who wants a successful career.”

But if that was true, then could she be the same woman who was willing—no,
eager—
to let Connor grind against her in public, with no shame about who might catch them? She couldn’t, and yet, she was. She was both A and B, two halves of the same, and both wanted Connor to fuck her senseless.

She threw off her blankets and reached for her bathrobe, the air in her bedroom chilly despite the calendar. She’d always loved the twin natures of the seashore in the summer: the way the midday sun would bear down until the insides of her knees and elbows were soaked with sweat, but then needing to pull a sweatshirt from her closet once the sky went purple with twilight. Maine summers could be two things at once, so why couldn’t she?

When she was freshly showered, her hair twisted up in two French braids, she dug through her closet to find her hiking boots, thick socks and sturdy shorts. The sports bra and Henley tee she gathered into her hands would have appalled Jamie, but a hike was a hike whether it was a date or not, and Gabriella was always prepared.

She giggled at the thought and wondered if she should bring a condom too.

With her backpack in hand, she went outside to wait on the porch. For a moment, the vision of her rider taking her on it flashed through her mind. But she was too excited to see Connor to be distracted by silly fantasies. She searched through her bag for the trail map of Bradbury Mountain State Park. She was still studying it when the gate creaked open and slammed shut.

Gabriella looked up, startled. Connor was standing on her lawn, and her heart hammered at the sight of him. He’d made no attempt to discipline his hair today, and the dark locks fell about his face, tossed by the steady breeze. His grin was lazy, hands thrown into his shorts pockets as he wandered up her path. The tight sleeves of a blue Superman T-shirt gripped the magnificent muscles on his arms. She almost forgot how to talk, how to do anything but stare, and she was pretty sure by the way he stopped and smirked at her from the walkway that he could tell.

She remembered how to make her mouth work and quickly stood. “I didn’t hear you pull up.”

“That’s because I walked.”

It made her giddy—the fact that he lived close enough to get there by foot, that he’d been a few blocks from her all this time. The proximity presented so many options, for staying into the evening when they returned later on, their post-hike sweaty skin an invitation for getting even sweatier.

A suggestive smile slid over her face. “You might end up wishing you’d driven later on tonight. I heard it’s supposed to rain.”

Connor shrugged. “I don’t have a car.”

“Oh.” She was momentarily thrown. How had he been getting into town and back? “I could have picked you up,” she said, skipping down the steps to meet him.

Yes, she actually
skipped
.

Connor’s grin widened as he fixed his eyes on her, his gaze making a lazy pass down her body and back up again. It made her feel like she was wearing lingerie instead of hiking gear. Or nothing at all.

“It wasn’t a long walk,” he said. “Ready to go?”

She had to remind herself that she really did want to go on this hike, and not try to convince him to go up to her bedroom and finish what they’d started instead.

They got into her car, and she handed him the map.

“Why don’t you pick a trail?” she asked as she backed out the driveway.

“They’re all pretty much the same to me, but sure.”

“You don’t have a preference?”

“Not really.”

“I thought you wanted to hike?”

“No.
You
said you were hiking today.
I
just said I wanted to go with you.” That impish grin of his flickered over his lips, lips that she knew the feel of, and Gabriella went hot inside.

She took them out of Portland, following the local streets she knew so well to I-295, the highway that would lead her south and to her future in a few weeks’ time. For now, though, she turned north toward the comfort of the mountains. Connor played with the radio stations until he found a familiar song. When his arm stretched out over the gearshift, she caught a swirl of black ink by the edge of his sleeve.

“You didn’t tell me you had a tattoo.”

“You didn’t ask,” he said. “If it had been one of your questions last night, I might have.”

“Well, we’ve got some time to keep playing now.” They came to a red light, and she peeked down at his bicep. “Can I see it?”

Connor paused, then tugged up his shirtsleeve, revealing smooth, tanned skin that she itched to touch. The intricate design there, however, hijacked her attention. It was nearly an optical illusion, something that could have easily been confused with a tribal band, but it wasn’t knot work at all. It was two dragons, both mirror images of one another, enmeshed together at tail and claw.

“It’s beautiful,” she said quietly. “What does it represent?”

Connor craned his neck, giving his arm a cursory glance before meeting Gabriella’s eyes. “I guess I always thought it showed how everyone has two sides of themselves, both of them pulling at you at the same time. Or how we all have positive and negative experiences in life, and that brings us balance.”

Connor’s expression was serious, floating on the edge of the darkness she’d seen in them before, but then he grinned, his perfect white teeth gleaming.

“But the dude who did the tat just said it was two cool dragons.”

Gabriella laughed and brought her focus back to the road. “I have one too, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” He turned toward her, leaning over the gearshift. “What is it?”

“A butterfly,” she replied. “Typical, I know.”

Connor chuckled. “Typical you. It’s duality.”

She smiled, shocked at how well he seemed to know her already. But then Connor leaned a little closer to her, and his voice went low and sexy when he asked, “Where is it?”

Her nipples stiffened as she imagined him drinking in the skin at the crease of her thigh. “Is one of the rules of this game that we have to answer the questions the other asks?”

“I don’t think we came up with any rules.”

“Well then, maybe I’ll let you look for it later.”

She may have sounded like she was teasing, but she couldn’t have been more serious, ready for him to strip her clothes off on the trail, someplace hidden in the shadows of the trees.

“I’ll try to be patient.”

The light changed and she merged onto the highway, relaxing as they listened to the music and watched the scenery pass by. Lush summer pines lined the side of the road, interspersed with maples and aspens. Gabriella thought of how brilliantly they change colors in the fall, what they look like closer to Christmas, when snow weighed down their barren branches, embracing them in white. Maybe this year she’d come back over winter break, if her parents hadn’t been able to sell the house yet. Or maybe Connor could come down to visit her at school. It was crazy, this hope that whatever they were becoming would last even after summer’s heat faded into a memory, but maybe crazy was what she needed right now.

She took the exit at Freeport and slowed down at the crush of cars, the tourists hunting for parking by the outlets. When they reached Pownal and the gentle slope of the mountain, Gabriella let out a relieved sigh. She got out of the car and looked up at the sky through the canopy of leaves, breathing in the scent of bark and forest. She slipped her backpack over her arms while Connor looked at the map.

“Did you choose a path?”

“I think I’ll use the tried and true, eenie-meanie-miney-moe strategy and pick...” He poked his finger against a random fold on the map. “This one.”

Gabriella laughed, more at ease than she’d felt in months. Years, maybe. That dip above Connor’s lip beckoned, and she wanted to throw her arms around him, to draw him close and kiss him silly as they began the ascent up the South Ridge Trail.

It was quiet and serene once they were safely nestled within the dense wood. The cool, still air was a stark contrast to the salty sea breeze and rush of wave against rock on the shore. The moss-covered ground and weathered boulders were distant cousins of the sandy coastline and sturdy lighthouses they’d left behind for the day. Connor reached out to take her hand. His fingers were warm and felt good wrapped around hers. They were halfway up the incline when he paused by a tremendous tree, its bark aged and gray. Its roots spindled down like veins over the obstinate surface of a large stone.

“Amazing how that happens, isn’t it? That the roots can reach around anything in its way to seek out soil?”

He took their joined fingers and caressed the trunk, face lost in complete wonderment.

“I always thought part of the beauty of nature was in its common sense,” Gabriella reasoned. “The tree is just doing what it needs to do in order to survive.”

“But it shouldn’t be able to. It’s another example proving that the theory you’re working so hard against.”

“You’re just hell bent on seeing me fail, aren’t you?”

Connor pulled her toward another tree deeper in the thicket, a few feet away from the trail. He led her through the brush, and Gabriella enjoyed the feeling of secrecy it held.

“I don’t want you to fail, but come on, even Buddhism recognizes the dual nature of things. How else can you explain yin and yang?”

“Are you a computer geek or an Eastern philosopher?”

“Can’t I be both? You were the one who said I’m more than I seem.” Connor stopped walking and turned to face her, searching her eyes, his free hand reaching up to cup her face. “You’re so
much more too.”

He looked at her for a moment, his thumb stroking over her cheek. Then he kissed her gently, sweetly, his palm slipping down from her cheek to the back of her neck. There was nothing urgent about the kiss, and Gabriella let her eyes close, let herself fall into it, enjoying soft and tender in a way she never had before.

With a smile against his lips, she murmured, “Maybe I’ll let you look for that butterfly now.”

He skimmed his nose along hers. “Oh yeah? Here in the woods?”

“Here in the woods.”

“Kinky.” His touch traveled down her neck and over her shoulder. “Am I getting warm?”

“Freezing cold.”

He touched her shoulder blades, her spine, the small of her back. “Warmer?”

“I’d say you’re…temperate.”

He chuckled. This time, the sound slid between her thighs. “You gonna give me a hint?”

Gabriella stood on her toes to whisper in his ear, “Lower.”

Connor slipped his hands to her bottom, and her hard exhale was as loud as his hiss when he squeezed. His lips brushed hers in an open-mouthed tease. “Am I hot yet?”

“Almost.” She reached back and drew one of his hands around to her belly. “Other side.”

Connor groaned and pulled her to him with the hand still grabbing her ass. He fell back against a nearby tree, leaning on it for support, and Gabriella licked the shell of his ear. Reveling in his shudder, she bit down on his earlobe and brought his hand down toward the waistband of her shorts. She popped the first button open for him, and Connor’s hand slipped inside.

“Now you’re burning up,” she told him.

“Fuck,” he said, his breathing hard and fast. When his fingers stroked over the damp fabric covering her slit, he seemed to completely forget about his quest. Instead, he simply snapped.

Connor twisted her around until her back was shoved against the tree. He freed his hand from her shorts long enough to yank her shirt up, pulling it over her head. She raised her arms to help him, wrenching it off her wrists and throwing it to the ground. She tried to do the same to him, gripping the hem of his T-shirt and lifting it until her palms met the smooth, bare planes of his chest. Connor pulled back and whipped the shirt off, then kissed her again, sucking and biting as he worked to undo the remaining buttons on her shorts. It was wild and fast and risky and wrong, and she’d never felt so good in her life. She was about to beg him to go lower again, to soothe that wet ache between her legs when she heard voices. It was children’s laughter, getting closer by the second.

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