by James, Clare
“Me too,” I say, as much to him as to myself.
“Okay,” I give in. “It’s been a good morning. Busy. I’m a designer at a graphic arts firm.”
“Mmm.” Gabe nods. “I can see that.”
“You can?”
“You have a flair,” he says, accessing my platforms and knee socks before fingering my ladybug necklace. “You’re a little on the funky side, Ms. Sinclair.”
I nod. “Yeah, Max had to tell me to tone it down on more than one occasion.”
“No,” Gabe says, shaking his head. “Don’t ever tone it down. It suits you. And I like it.”
“So what about you?” I ask him before taking a sip of my wine.
“You already know what I do,” he says, plating our lunch.
“You know, being a manager of a corporate hotel really doesn’t suit you,” I blurt, immediately wishing I could take it back.
He laughs at my candor, at least that’s what I hope he’s laughing at. “Why not?” he asks. “What’s wrong with managing a hotel?”
“Nothing … I don’t know. You don’t seem like a cog in a wheel to me. You seem like the whole damn machine. I picture you as an entrepreneur or something.”
Damn foot in my mouth again. Why does this man take away my filter? “I’m sorry. Not that your job isn’t cool or whatever. I have a knack for saying the dumbest things.”
“Or the most perceptive.” Gabe runs his hand down my arm. I turn to mush, wishing we were back at that corporate hotel right now.
“I’m opening my own hotel,” he says.
“What? When?”
“About a year. It’s still under construction—a little boutique place. I’ll have to wrap up my work at the Marriott soon because the new place needs my attention full time.”
“Hotels, that’s your thing?”
“Hotels, restaurants, bars, boutiques. You name it. I dabble in a lot.”
“So, why are you working at the Marriott then?”
“Research. It’s been the best schooling for me. I also know the GM and approached him. He was short on help, and I needed some inside information for my place.”
“Wow. I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be, Stevie. It’s just work. It was a great trade off. And that way, I didn’t have to keep anything a secret. Plus, we’re catering to a different clientele. There’s really no competition. And speaking of the hotel …” He tips his head down. “Though I will allow feathered friends in my hotel, the place you are currently staying at does not. So try to keep that little noise-maker’s singing to a minimum. You’re going to be staying a while, and I don’t want the other guests to wonder what kind of place I’m running.”
“How did you know?” I totally had him hidden in the closet, and Free is awesome in stealth-mode.
“I heard him last night.”
“Why didn’t you call me out then?”
“Stevie, you could’ve had an entire zoo in your room last night and I wouldn’t have cared. I had one thing on my mind.”
“Well, don’t worry. I only have a few more days left in my stay.”
“Try ten,” Gabe says with a smile.
“What?”
“I found some more points for you to stay another week.”
Oh, that sounds so much better than hitting up my sister or trying to negotiate with Max so soon. Still, I can’t take advantage of him like that.
“I can’t accept, Gabe.”
“You can and you will,” he says with a piercing glance that looks more than a little dangerous. And completely hot. “How’s the wine?”
“Delicious. What kind is it?”
“An Italian Soave,” he says, accenting each syllable, so-ah-ve.
Mmmm.
“I love it. I need to try Italian wines more often.”
“I have a penchant for all things Italian. Maybe I can show you in the next ten days.” He smirks.
“Gabe, it’s too much.”
“You need more time for your little adventure, and if I’m going to help, it’d be completely irresponsible on my part if I let you go without getting the full experience.”
“Did you know you are incredibly pushy?”
“Yes, I find it very effective in business. And other things.”
“I’m sure you do.”
And let me tell you, it works.
“So, we have your stay sorted out. Now let’s finish eating so you can get back to work. I wouldn’t want you to be late for our … plans … tonight.”
Chapter 9
“It’d really help if you told me where we’re going. I’m not sure if my outfit is appropriate,” I say to Gabe on the phone.
“What are you wearing?” he asks in an exaggerated sexy voice. It still works on him.
“A blue strapless dress and sling-backs,” I say. It took me ten tries to get it right.
“Perfect,” he answers.
“Are you sure? You haven’t even seen it.”
“I’m positive. Now stop with the nerves and get your tight little ass down here. I know it’s not the gentlemanly thing to have you meet me in the garage. It’s actually quite seedy, but it would look suspicious if I went up to your room to pick you up.”
“It’s fine,” I tell him. “I’ll meet you in the garage in ten.”
I give myself one last look in the mirror. Smokey eyes, nude lips, hair piled high in a messy bun. It’s pretty good, I have to admit. Still, something’s missing. I pull the clip from my hair and let the wild waves spill down to my shoulders—just fucked hair.
Somehow it seems completely appropriate.
I put my lips up to Free’s cage. He moves in and gives me a tiny peck with his beak. Then he yells, “Max, Maaaaxxxx.” It breaks my heart a little.
“No, Free,” I tell him. “No Max. Tonight I’m going out with Gorgeous Gabe.”
He paces back and forth. “Max, Max, Max.”
“Gorgeous Gabe,” I repeat, secretly hoping Free will latch on and then let it spill the next time he sees Max. It’ll serve him right.
When I get down to the garage, an elegant black limo idles just outside the elevator. I immediately feel light-headed. I know Gabe is in there. And if I had any doubt, it dissipates when the window slides down and a hand reaches out, crooking a finger to beckon me inside.
I slowly approach the vehicle feeling equal parts anxious and excited, just as I did last night. Turns out, it is for good reason. Before I know what’s happening, the car door opens and a strong arm swoops around me, yanking me in.
Gabe has me splayed across the seat within seconds, his body caging mine, and his woodsy scent putting me even more off-balance.
“You look incredible,” his low voice purrs in my ear.
“Not for long.” I feign disgust, fighting his hold, even though there is no place I’d rather be. “You’re messing me up.”
“Impossible,” he says, pulling me up with him as he leans back on the seat.
“So now are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I huff.
“Why? Nervous?” he asks with unabashed mischief in his eyes.
“A little,” I admit.
“Let’s keep it a mystery just a bit longer. This is an adventure, remember?”
Gabe moves over to the limo bar where there’s chilled champagne. He expertly pops the top and fills our glasses.
“Let’s enjoy this time together before you have a harem of men to choose from.”
Okay, where the hell is he taking me?
“I have a hard time believing that you’d come in second to anyone,” I tell him honestly.
“You haven’t seen this place,” he says, handing me a glass before raising his in a toast. “To sexual adventures,” he says with a clink to my glass.
I lift mine in response. “The very best kind.”
Gabe sits close, drinking his champagne and running a finger along my thigh. I could skip this whole thing and just stay here, with him, all night.
“Okay, we�
��re almost there,” he says, and my tummy turns with nerves. “You just have to do one more thing before we go in.”
“Okay,” I say. “What?”
Gabe then leans down in front of me and slides his hands up my dress. His touch is warm and rough all at the same time. It’s so fucking good. Better than a hot bath, or ice cream, or even coming home to Max at the end of a hard day. It is lust and comfort tangled together. My hands grip onto his hard shoulders, and my legs turn to jelly. His fingers ghost over my panties, now wet with need. He looks up at me, his eyes hooded, before he hooks his fingers around the tiny strings at my hips. Then he pulls.
Yep, definitely do NOT want to get out of this limo.
He slides my panties down my legs and tucks them in my pocket while I pray for car trouble, or gridlock, or anything that will keep us right here.
“Now you’re ready,” he whispers in my ear before taking a little nibble. And with that, we pull to a stop. Gabe takes my hand, opens the door, and leads me out into the night.
Toward a building with a small sign, which reads: Venus.
Chapter 10
We walk into a grand foyer—elegant really. It’s dimly lit by the sconces on the ivory walls and fragrant white lilies fill the air. Gabe leads me through a dark velvet curtain along the outer wall to a small room, almost like a sanctuary. There are candles everywhere and a large sculpture of a nude woman.
“It’s Venus,” Gabe says.
Hence the name, I guess, but weird all the same. Venus watches over us and we approach.
Weirder.
Then Gabe reaches in his pocket, pulls out my panties, and drops them at the statue’s feet.
Weirdest.
“What the fu—”
“Don’t freak out, Stevie.” Gabe pulls me in close. “It just a fun tradition. Making an offering to Venus—you know, Goddess of Love, Sex, Beauty.”
“Yes, I’m somewhat up on my Roman mythology,” I say. “But I don’t know, that’s creepy.”
Gabe leans in and brushes his lips along my jaw, stopping at my ear. “It’s a place of fantasy, baby. Just go with it. I promise you will not be let down.”
Go with it, he says. But I wondered: Could I? Should I?
Then Gabe gives me the eyes. Then the lips, the chest, and the abs. Not to mention the tight bum and impressive bulge behind his zipper. How could I possibly say no to him?
I follow that tight bum down a hallway that opens into a huge room. It could very easily be a nightclub—if it weren’t for the half-naked people and the video screens playing … I don’t know what you’d call it. Roman porn maybe?
There are people everywhere, music playing, and a blue haze floating in the massive space. There’s a bar at one end of the room and a dance floor at the other, but through the darkness I can make out a few doors and hallways along the sides and in the back.
The energy is pulsing all around us. There are couples grinding on the dance floor, people flirting in corner, and others simply watching.
“This is the meeting room,” Gabe tells me.
I try not to stare, but rather act casual, like I come to places like this all the time.
Gabe makes no move to act the same way. He stares, studies, and points things out to me as we walk down to the bar.
“It’s okay, Stevie. You can look. That’s what we’re here for. It’s what everyone wants.”
“What is this place?” I ask.
“It’s a place to get your sexy back, that’s for sure.” Gabe brings my hand to his lips for a kiss, a gesture that both calms and excites me at the same time. “It’s also the perfect place for a sexual adventure. You want that, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“And if I recall, you had quite a comprehensive list of things you’ve always wanted to try but were too scared to ask for.”
I nod, not at all embarrassed that he’s had a look at my most intimate thoughts and fantasies. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so comfortable with someone. I’d have to be considering that list consisted of things like: giving a lap dance, stripping, having sex in a public place, threesome fun. Apparently just a Wednesday night for good ol' Gabe. Of course I was drunk when I made the list, and had Mr. Hot Pants egging me on.
“Well, this is the place you can get it all done.” Gabe says. His face is serious, but also soft. “Look, I know your first time can be jarring. But lean on me, and I’ll get you through it. After all, we not only worship Venus here, but every woman.”
Yeah, it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know, there is the sexiest vibe in this room and I am sitting with the sexiest man. That’s saying something because it’s like tryouts for The Bachelor and The Bachelorette in here. Gor-geous. Maybe I just need to get in scene, as they say in the lifestyle. Or so I’ve heard.
Gabe leans over the bar and orders two martinis and we take a seat.
“So, like I said, this is the meeting room. The place where you can meet people, pair off, or group off—if that’s your thing. Or just talk and watch.”
“And once you pair up?”
“There are other rooms and places where you can go and do whatever you’re in the mood for.”
“Sex?”
“If you wish.”
I do. With Gabe. Back in the limo.
“What is inside these rooms?”
“Depends. Over there,” Gabe points down a hall, “there’s the touch room where it’s dark and people touch and fondle each other.”
I scrunch up my nose and look away.
“Don’t judge, it can be good for people with anxiety issues,” Gabe says with a grin. “And some people find it exciting. No names. No faces.”
“Judging by the faces in this room, I don’t know why anyone would want that. Everyone in here is beautiful.”
“Yes, they are,” Gabe agrees. “This is an exclusive club with some pretty strict requirements.”
“What? You have to be good looking to get in?” I ask jokingly.
“Among other things,” Gabe adds with no trace of a smile. He’s serious.
“Oh-kay. So tell me more about the rooms.”
“There’s a hot tub and pool area. A room with a stripper pole just waiting for an impromptu show. A massage room. Rooms for watching or being watched, and some other more dramatically-themed areas. Ready to run yet?”
“Not quite yet,” I tell him. I’ve made it this far, I can’t leave without doing something.
“Now take your time with this,” Gabe says when the bartender delivers our martinis. “It’s a two-drink max here.”
“What?” That statement is almost as shocking as this environment. “It seems like you’d have to be wasted to do half this stuff.”
“What would be the fun in that?” Gabe shakes his head. “Trust me, if you choose to participate, you’ll want to remember every second of it. Still, a drink or two doesn’t hurt to get in the mood and take the edge off.”
We sip our drinks and gawk at the scene. There are several people dressed in white milling about, the men are in pants and V-necks, and the women are wearing little dresses with tall boots. They obviously work here, but they’re not delivering drinks or taking orders. They’re carrying iPads and talking to various people, directing them from room to room.
“Who are they?”
“Venus’s cupids,” Gabe answers. “They help pair people up and give them the experience they’re looking for. You’ll meet yours soon enough.”
“I don’t need a cupid,” I tell him, scooting a little closer. “I have you.”
“Trust me,” he says. “They’ll be able to help you more than I can. But I can take the lead tonight if that makes you feel better.”
“It does.”
“Okay then, if I’m in charge, I say we’ve had enough sitting on the sidelines. Let’s dance.”
Chapter 11
Gabe takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor—past the half-naked bodies, the cupids, and the various three and four-somes. He pulls me in,
and we begin to sway to the beat.
“There are no rules out here, Stevie. So you have to tell me if you don’t like something, okay?”
I nod, desperately wondering what he has in mind.
Gabe inches closer to me and we mold to each other bodies. So close, I can feel his arousal. I take a deep breath and his hand clamps down on my ass, pushing me even tighter to him. Now, as my nipples tighten, I’m sure he feels my arousal as well.
Leaning away from me, his eyes go to my chest and his thumbs brush across my tight peaks. He is not restrained or shy. I feel all kinds of eyes on us in the moment, and I’m not sure why, but it makes it hotter.
“God, you have great tits,” Gabe says.
His crude talk goes right to my core, which is so much more sensitive, exposed and on display under my dress. I am wet and aching for him already.
After another brush of his thumb against my nipples. I lean into it this time and Gabe growls. His hands move down the front of my dress, tortuously slow. Once they reach the hem, they climb back up, talking the skirt of my dress with them.
He wouldn’t.
The skirt continues to slide up my thighs, threatening to expose what’s underneath. I hold my breath the entire time. I’m not sure if I want him to keep going or stop, but I can’t seem to make a single movement.
He stops just as my rear end begins to peek out from beneath the fabric. Two girls dancing with each other meet my eyes with a smile. They’ve been watching us.
I bury my face in Gabe’s neck and relish in the cool air hitting the back of my thighs. He holds my dress in place with one hand and lets his other hand travel over my legs, occasionally dipping under the dress. I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on in my life.
Snaking his hand between us, it moves underneath the material. Up. Up. Up. Until his fingertips reach my slick entrance. And when they do, Gabe bites down on my neck with a low rumble in his throat.
I can’t believe he’s doing this right now, in front of everyone. But it amplifies my excitement, by like one thousand percent. It’s like he’s claiming me here for all to see, and I want to be claimed by him. His fingers continue to run along my hot folds, increasing in both speed and pressure. It’s not long until I can feel that familiar build grow low in my center.
