Rocker Series

by Gina Whitney

  We arrived at our hotel suite. I grinned at Cindy. “Wow!” I said, looking around the expanse of the living room. “Christ, this…”

  “Holla! You…we deserve nothing less.” She twirled around the room, starry-eyed.

  My heart skipped when I heard his music being piped into the stereo system throughout the suite. “I could use some alone time.” I looked sullenly at the bedroom door. A suite that grand would surely house an elaborate bathroom. Soaking in a hot tub would do me right. Second thoughts about the trip plagued my mind. My insecurities were running amuck. I needed to psych myself out not to run. That was my impulse. Was what I was doing considered emotional suicide? My stomach knotted. In fact, my knots had knots.

  I managed a weak smile. I didn’t want to be shitty. “Did you hear what I said? I need some alone time.” I waited for a response from her.

  “Yeah, chick, I heard you. I disagree. You need your friends around you, G. You’ve had enough alone time in that head of yours. You’re not exactly good at sharing. Hiding yes, but not sharing. I will give you space. But, hells no on the alone time,” she flatly stated.

  My eyes bore holes into her. Was she fucking serious? Did she get the magnitude of what it took to come here? My heart’s been torn open. My feelings were raw and resembled live wires. However, it didn’t pay to have a throw-down with her either. I was done arguing. I’d have to pick and choose from then on. I chose to walk away from that one.

  “Fine,” I grumbled while pulling my suitcase into the first bedroom suite.

  “Love you, Gia,” she whispered loud enough for me to hear.

  I smiled. “I love you, too, pain-in-the-ass.” I closed the door behind me, resting my head against the frame. I turned slowly, letting my eyes touch on every article in the room. I cataloged it all into my memory, filing it away.

  An enormous, king-sized four-poster bed was what I needed while I zoned out. Whoa. Was that even king? Looked bigger. It was the focal point of the room. It was walnut with marble variations of colors throughout. Very manly. Not feminine at all. I thought it to have been done with purpose. The Gunners did everything with purpose. What that purpose was would be revealed some time later.

  I heaved my suitcase onto the bed. I took out something comfortable to wear while in the room…a tank with yoga pants, and then padded to the bathroom. My en-suite bathroom resembled something from an architectural magazine. It came in a close second when compared it to the office bathroom in the Gunner ESQ building. Crystalline sconces lined the marble walls. An antique chandelier hung from the twenty-foot ceiling. I’d hate to have to clean that.

  I stepped in, looking for the light switch. There was a remote control I thought someone left for the TV. It was for the lights. It was labeled: vanity, mood, fan, shower, bath, red-light, and finally, music. Holy fuck. Being wealthy had some nice perks. I hit mood on the remote. A serene, low light barely illuminated the room. My body immediately relaxed into a peaceful state. I dispelled my clothes, folding them neatly on the vanity. Then, it was time for the shower. There were two shower valves. One on the far wall. And one in the middle. I opted for the middle. Which produced a rain-like effect from the considerable round showerhead. Steam immediately occupied the glass enclosure, gently wrapping around my supple skin. My angst immediately dissipated, leaving me revitalized.

  I remembered seeing a towel just outside the glass door. I reached for it, palming the wall through the fog of steam. Only someone offered me the towel. What the fuck? I pulled back quickly. “Who’s there? Cindy?”

  “Nope. Only me…love.” Chance said, hitting me in the face with the towel.

  I quickly wrapped it around me and blushed. “Knock much, Chance?” I was pissed. He was over-stepping his gay-friend status. “Seriously, you scared the fuck out of me. Don’t do that again.” I walked past him to the mirror.

  “You’re right.” He walked over to the vanity. “But I come bearing I-need-to-barge-into-the-bathroom news. I’m sorry, I’ll come back.” He moved to leave.

  “I don’t fucking think so, Chance.” I blocked the door with my towel-wrapped body. “Spill, drama queen.” I smirked.

  “There’s my girl.” He smiled. “You’re going to need your vagina-balls, Gia. His royal broodiness is requesting an audience,” he answered in a gasp.

  “Fuck! Okay, reel it in, Chance. You’d think it were you. Christ.” I grabbed his shoulders.

  “Isn’t it, though? You’re like a little sister. Oh God, I’m even having phantom heart palpitation’s.” Breathe he chanted to himself. I stood there mouth agape. Was he fucking serious right now? I’m the one who should be freaking. This was my moment. My all in. My make or break speech.

  “Snap out of it! I need you to focus. When and where? That’s all I want to know.” I grabbed my toothbrush nearly brushing the enamel almost off.

  “Okay. Okay,” he blew out and lowered the toilet seat to sit. “Mr. Gunner came down after a visit with him. He said, and I quote, ‘We need to get her to him before he loses his mind completely.’”

  I stopped thoughtfully to break down his statement word for word.

  “Is that a good or bad thing? I mean, did it sound like he wanted to see me…losing his mind. Or, oh fuck she’s here… fuck her?” I worried my lip waiting for his answer.

  “Doll, I’m betting it’s…You better not keep that broody alpha waiting any more than necessary.” He rushed out of the bedroom. I followed. He went to my suitcase, riffling through it until he found what he was looking for.

  “Um, excuse you.” I grabbed my thong out of his hand. His nerve was far reaching.

  “Puh-lease, I packed your bag, remember? We don’t have time for shy-and-timid Gia. We need I’m-the-goddess-sub-who-owns-Abel’s-heart Gia. Grab your lady-balls. No time for mind-fucking. Hopefully, you’ll be doing the kind of fucking that will leave you sore for days. Ready?”

  I nodded, smiling. That was music to my ears. I was grateful for Chance. It was a do or die situation. Yes, of my own doing. However, I’d give it my all. If that wasn’t enough, at least I gave it my best.

  He carefully laid out a casual but cool ensemble. A Rolling Stones T-shirt that hung off one shoulder. A pair of skinny jeans complete with a worn hole in the thigh. A jeweled belt that matched a pair of Lavin pumps. And lastly, a strapless lace bra with matching thong.

  While humming to himself, he handed me the thong and bra. It was hard to believe at times that this handsomely roguish man next to me was gay. I took a good, long look at Chance. My God, he was beautiful. His glacial blue eyes alone held anyone captive in a conversation. He was physically fit, but naturally. I didn’t see Chance in a lunk-type-gym. However, he often surprised me. He stretched beside me, yawning. His shirt rose at the sides displaying a very pleasing V into his jeans. God Bless was all I thought. Sheesh. I threw self-consciousness out the door…and stripped. When in Rome, right? He handed me one article at a time.

  “What exactly do you call this get-up?” I giggled.

  He smirked. “Rock-star chic, sweets. I know him well. He will internally combust when he sees the only part of your body exposed is your shoulder.” He laughed to himself. “I wish I were a fly on the wall,” he said, smirking.

  He kneeled at my feet to cuff the hem of my jeans neatly. “Let him see these gorgeous shoes on your dainty feet without pantyhose.”

  I turned my heel this way and that. Huh. He was right. The shoes were sexy as fuck. The jewels reflected the light making them sparkle. I was keeping them no matter what. The bare tops of my feet gave the outfit a relaxed and easy look. The point of the toe gave my foot a sleek yet modern, sensual look.

  “Cindy,” I called out.

  Chance explained that she had stepped out to see Woody. No wonder it was so quiet.

  A text came in on Chance’s phone. He hurriedly keyed in a response. “Okay, doll, I’ve got to run right quick. Mr. Gunner needs me. I will be back.” He kissed both sides of my cheeks.

  “Wait! Whe
re and when am I going? You never told me,” I asked, puzzled by his quick exit. “Chance?” I yelled following him to the door.

  “I’ll be back in no time. Breathe, Gia. Have some faith in our alpha. He’s a good man. I wouldn’t be working for him if he weren’t,” he said before sprinting down the hall.

  I closed the door, leaving it unlocked. I wasn’t sure he had a room key and the floor was private. I needn’t worry about security. Between Mr. Gunner and Abel, security was paramount.

  Fuck, I needed a drink. Something to calm my nerves. I decided to sit on a chaise by the window. Paris was a beautifully romantic city; the architecture alone was something to marvel at. I’d never been to Europe before. I had always been a true romantic at heart.

  Many of the books painted Paris to be truly magical. I didn’t know anything about that growing up where I did. But I could dream, right? Fantasize. Live in a world of wanderlust. Desire was something I knew first-hand about. I desired someone to steal my pain. To replace it with pleasure. The only person that had ever managed to do that was— Abel.

  I often wondered if a bird could fly with only one wing. I no longer wondered that. He mended my broken wing with his Dom juju…really, it was with his love. I had to laugh. He was magical. He had that Dom juju about him that just made everything okay. His touch. His effect…his mere presence glued all my broken fragments, making me whole again. A smile adorned my face. He was special to me. Important. Vital to my well-being. I was lost in him…

  “Gia.” His voice was guttural.

  I didn’t dare turn. I stayed stock-still. His words were a velvet touch, gently squeezing my heart. A fine mist of rain coated the windowpane as people scattered on the streets. How poetic. It was raining. However, it was still lovely. A sob escaped me involuntarily. My hand went to capture a tear, but it was replaced by his, capturing it before it fell. The sound of him sucking his finger caused a major clench of my thighs. God, I was fucked. So thoroughly fucked.

  A low, rolling growl came from his chest. “Beauty. Mine.” His voice was sure.

  I shuttered without provocation as he knelt before me. It was something I thought I’d never see. I couldn’t look directly at him; I was blinded by tears.

  Carefully, he lifted my chin. “Gia, I’m so fucking sorry, baby. I am on my knees, asking for your forgiveness.” His eyes were a temple of affection.

  I swallowed the golf ball size lump of shame that was lodged in my throat. I didn’t deserve it–his forgiveness. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I’m the one that did this to us.” I blew out a breath that I had been holding and waited. “I deserve nothing. You were right to walk away. I didn’t deserve you.” At that, I sobbed harder. I couldn’t even bear the thought. My wretched heart fisted violently in my chest. Fuck, it hurt. I closed my eyes. His words…his beautiful face made the ache worse.

  “Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for. I was the fucking asshole that was too quick-handed. My father’s right. I’m thick-headed. I should have let you explain…given you a chance to explain rather than running. The running I’m good at. The asking, not so much.” He smiled adoringly. “Let me try to fix this, Beauty— please.” His brow raised with curiosity.

  I was able to produce a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Sir,” I offered respectfully.

  He shook his head no. “Not tonight, Beauty. You have stripped me bare. I am but a man in love in front of you. On my knees, I will ask for your forgiveness. I am no Dom at this moment…just a man trying to make up for a grave mistake he’s made.” He laid his head in my lap, his good hand around my waist.

  I couldn’t help but run my fingers through his locks. I was stunned momentarily at his submission…his declaration…his love.

  His voice was weighty as he spoke disjointedly. “Do you have any fucking clue what I would’ve done if you succeeded in killing yourself?”

  I stiffened. He knew. It was then that I noticed his bandaged hand. He was hurt. God, I hoped it wasn’t because of me.

  “I would have breathed my last breath right after you. Now that I’ve found you, do you think I could live in a world without you?” He fell apart in my lap. He sobbed, grief-stricken.

  “Baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say. A world without you was impossible to imagine. Darkness was my only comfort. I didn’t want to exist anymore. I needed the pain to end.” I used my words to open those wounds to him. I surrendered to him. If I were to be truthful, he needed to know of the darkness that lived inside me. There was no hiding it anymore. No more schmoozing it over with a smile. It was raw, but it was my truth.

  He sat back on his heels, running his fingers through his hair. A signature move when he was trying to gain some control over his feelings.

  “I need to feel your skin against mine. To hear your heart beating in your chest. To wrap myself in your scent. Sometimes, Beauty, we take for granted the mundane things in life. Let’s not wait another second taking each other for granted.” He rose from the ground, offering me his hand, and wiped his eyes with his bandaged hand.

  I took his hurt hand and placed the gentlest of kisses upon it. I noticed his lashes were still thick with tears…pupils dilated past his irises. His shoulders squared…his stance predatory— foreboding.

  I accepted his forgiveness…offering mine in return…

  Forgiveness

  I took a mental snapshot of Abel kissing every inch of my body that he came in contact with while lovingly stripping me bare. He was awkward with his injured hand. Every time I uttered to ask if he needed help, he shook me off the question with a NO. He removed one article of clothing at a time until I was only in my bra and panties. I stood before him eyes down— silent. He circled me. His presence was commanding and instinctual. A shudder rolled through me, clear down to my toes.

  He fell to his knees in front of me. Frozen, I held my position while he blew steadily into my pussy. Warm breath caressed every bundle of nerves. My eyes closed on their own accord. Next, came his index finger, rimming my panties. He continued his assault as his warm breath found its way to my clit. I needed his fingers in me. Something in me. I felt empty. Finally, he moved my panties to the side, dipped his finger in…sighing. It dawned on me that I hadn’t waxed or shaved. I knew he liked my pussy bare. I hadn’t expected this type of reunion. Nor did I have a moment truly to myself to take care of it.

  “I…” I uttered instinctively. I wanted to explain. I only shaved my pussy bare for him. Normally, I would’ve left a strip of hair. However, being in the hospital…it was the last thing on my mind. Fuck. I never thought I’d see him again.

  “Let me, Gia. I want to shave your pussy.” His voice was unquestionable.

  “Would that make you happy?” He nodded once at my question. “Okay,” I sighed, agreeing. I’d never been shaved before by someone. It would be a lesson in faith and humility.

  He quickly retrieved his phone, feverishly texting someone. “Come, let’s prep you, Beauty.” He pulled me into the bathroom.

  Leaning over the bathtub, he turned on the faucet, drawing a bath. He held his hand across his stomach as if an invisible sling held it in place. It was hard not to focus on that hand. He turned and opened the vanity drawer, removing a small satchel. With his mouth, he unknotted the tie that kept it closed and poured a generous amount of bath salts in.

  A knock came at the door. Naturally, I covered myself. “No one’s coming in here, baby. Get in the tub. I will be right back.”

  I removed my bra and panties, toeing myself into the hot water. God, it felt heavenly. He returned with a small plastic bag, setting it on the counter. He started to roll up his oxford shirtsleeves, then proceeded to remove the gauze bandage. My brows rose in question. He winked, throwing the bandage in the trash can.

  “How’s the water? Hot enough?” he asked and I nodded. He’d always been attentive, but that was unprecedented. He grabbed the shampoo and hand wand, saturating my hair before applying the shampoo. I leaned into his hand as he cupped the wa
ter, making sure not to get it in my eyes…so reverently.

  Some children can reflect on a nostalgic time when their mama did the same for them…braiding their hair or giving them pigtails. I often wondered about the woman I’d be if I’d had that caring touch to shape me while I was growing up. I muffled an inward sob at that thought. All I’ve ever wanted was to be loved. Was I that unlovable? All I wanted to do was please mama.

  “You okay, Beauty? Did I do something?” He applied the tea-tree shampoo to my hair, but not before he made me answer. “Let’s talk about it, babe. Let it out, darlin’.” His chocolate eyes swirled with sincerity.

  I could trust him. I could give this to him. “Okay. But first, at least tell me your hand’s okay? I won’t ask how, but should you have removed the bandage?” My voice broke over the spraying water.

  “I’m perfectly fine. I promise. Now, tell me what’s up?” He gently massaged the shampoo into my hair with expert care. “My mama…Medusa. She’s done some terrible things to me growing up. Umm, acted without caution or care. It makes me feel unworthy of love.” I sniffed. God, I sounded lame.

  “Tell me. Share this with me, Beauty. Let’s share a piece of ourselves with each other when we are together. Let’s do this for us. You and me, Beauty. Could you do that?” He asked, lovingly cupping my chin with his good hand.

  I nodded. “Yes. I can…we can.” I smiled up at his beautiful face; it was etched with concern. I grabbed his hand to kiss it. God, I was lucky to have him. “My mother had me at eighteen years old. I never grew up with a father. She said she didn’t know who my father was. Yet, when I was four years old, I remember a man coming into my room one night while I was sleeping. I pretended to be asleep. However, I could never really rest at night. My mother came into my room to rouse me…to beat me when she drank. I was always scared it would be that kind of night. If you haven’t noticed, that’s why I have all those cuddly blankets. I always thought they’d protect me…comfort me.” I took a moment to collect my thoughts. I hadn’t ever admitted my shame before. One breath in…one long breath out.