by C. L. Roman
Ugh! How did he know I was home? Was the guy keeping tabs on me? Following me? Great, I had a creepo on my hands. This was just what I needed.
Not wanting a scene in the hallway, I opened the door a few inches but didn’t say a word. He could tell me what he wanted through the small space without me asking.
“May I please come in?”
Say what? He had to be kidding me. Besides, if the old man knew I was speaking to another man, he would shit himself.
Huffing, I tensed my muscles. I couldn’t take the risk of getting caught, but Gabriel didn’t look like he was going to leave without putting up a fight either. He had his feet firmly planted on the ground.
Darn it! I opened the door farther and tugged him inside by gripping his arm then shut the door and locked it behind him. I closed one eye and with the other peeked through the peephole to make sure nobody was in the hallway, dreading this unexpected and uninvited visit.
“What the fuck?” He scrunched his face up.
Yeah, my gesture of pulling him inside my apartment might have been a bit on the aggressive side.
“I’m sorry. It’s late. I’m dressed in my robe.” I secured the tie.
What a bullshit excuse. He obviously didn’t buy it either based on the baffled expression he had on his face.
“I wanted to see if you were okay.”
“I’m fine, thank you.” I spoke abruptly, wanting to hurry this along.
“You didn’t look fine to me earlier.”
“Put on a happy face, Abigail.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“It’s really not your business.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I know it’s not my business, but can you please answer the question?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t have to answer to you. Maybe you’re used to women submitting to you at Hilltops, but I, for one, will never be one of them.”
His posture softened, and he stepped closer to me.
Who the hell does he think he is?
I stepped backward.
He stopped and put his hand up. “Whoa, that’s not what I meant. I apologize if it came off as such. I just wanted to check on you. I’ve been around the club for a while and you seemed anything but comfortable with the scene you were involved in.”
Shrugging him off, I replied, “I was surprised to see you there, that’s all.”
“I’m not buying it. Who’s the old guy?”
“Again, that’s none of your business. You know what? It’s late. I think you should go.” I focused on my breath in an effort to control my rapid heartbeat. I would not allow myself to have a full-blown panic attack in front of a stranger.
He took another step toward me, and I again moved backward.
“Are you in some kind of trouble?”
Breathe, Abby.
I wished my limbs would stop trembling.
“What makes you say that? And more importantly, if I were, why would I tell you?” I was already spilling too much. I shoved my hand in my pocket, a second later removing it and fidgeting with the tie on my robe, pulling it tighter even though it was already in a knot.
“Let’s see…bills from an out-of-state hospital, party dresses every night, the club—it’s not adding up.”
“It doesn’t have to. My life is my business, not yours.”
“Listen, if you’re in trouble…”
Oh my God! Why won’t he let up!
“Abigail?”
“Abby.”
“Fine. Abby…”
Sighing, mostly in frustration, I collapsed on my couch and rested my head against the back cushion. My tears could only remain at bay for so long. A few escaped and rolled down my cheeks. Every few days the dam would break, and a flood would ensue. My luck, Gabe had successfully knocked down my makeshift wall, the one that made it appear to others that I was functioning in a somewhat stable emotional state. Ha. Wasn’t that the joke of the century.
Gabe rushed over and sat next to me, not saying a word.
My tears intensified. I cried into my hands.
He inched closer and pulled me into his strong arms, but I shoved him off. “Don’t touch me!”
He booked it to the opposite side of the couch, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry. I was only trying to help.”
“Why?” I sniffled.
“Because I sense you could use some.”
Intuitive.
I wiped my eyes, but the damn tears kept coming.
“Come here. I promise not to touch you inappropriately.” He gestured for me to come to him.
“I don’t know you from a hole in the wall—why should I trust you?”
“If you didn’t feel safe, you wouldn’t have let me into your apartment.”
Good point.
He kept his arm out, indicating I should scoot closer to him. When I didn’t move, he returned to my side and put his arm around me, keeping it on my shoulder. Protective.
At first, I tensed up, but little by little, I softened into his embrace, finally resting my head on his shoulder.
He rubbed my upper arm. “I’m here if you want to talk, and if you don’t, that’s okay too.”
Why did he have to be so darn nice? I hadn’t been. I had been a bitch to him from day one. Kind of sad how I viewed everyone as an enemy these days.
“Long story short, I’m in a crap situation.” My declaration was a whisper.
He continued to soothe me, now gliding his palm over my still damp hair. It felt heavenly to be touched in a loving manner.
He’s a stranger! Get him out of your apartment! What if he tries to rape you? Worse, he could be a murderer for all you know!
This man was none of those things. I felt it deep inside.
“There are always options.”
I raised my head, making eye contact. “Not in this case.”
He wiped the wetness off my cheeks. “Maybe discussing it could help us come up with some. Nothing is ever black and white. There is always a middle ground.”
“Sadly, gray no longer exists in my world, at least not right now.”
“There is always gray. Sometimes you just have to look harder for it.”
After exhaling and collecting myself, I replied, “You know what, thanks for lending an ear, but I shouldn’t be speaking about this with you.” A wave of panic flooded me. “I apologize for falling apart in front of you. You caught me in a moment of weakness.” I went to rise but he gently gripped my wrist to stop me.
“I’d like to.”
“Why?”
“You seem to like that question.”
“Please answer it then.”
“I don’t know…something about you, I guess.”
“Well, you shouldn’t always trust your instincts.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I never question or doubt my instincts. Come on, sit back down. I won’t press you for information. We can just hang out if that’s what you want. I think company would do you good right now.”
That was for damn sure.
This Gabriel character baffled me. He came to my place to check on me, and I, in turn, acted standoffish. He had to know by now he wasn’t getting anything from me physically, yet he still wanted to hang out. What was in it for him? Men didn’t behave this way for the sake of being altruistic. There was usually an ulterior motive—at least I believed there was.
“Fine. I’ll sit down.” You’d think I had signed my life away with my obnoxious attitude. I kept a buffer of distance between us, not wanting to give him an opening or make him think we were going to get it on. Not happening, not tonight anyway. Although the man is hot as hell…
No! Absolutely not. Stop these crazy thoughts this instant!
I secured the front of my robe for the millionth time, if anything, to prove a point to my annoying thoughts and get my message across to Gabriel that nada was going to take place between us. “What should we do, watch television?”
Watch television?
Oh my
God, what a juvenile question.
“Whatever you want.”
What I wanted with Mr. Sexy and what would happen were two different things. Those lines couldn’t be crossed.
I clicked on the TV, putting on nothing in particular.
“So, you’re a member at Hilltops?” Why not start with a bang?
“Yup,” he answered without an ounce of hesitation. “Do you know Bo, the manager?”
“No.”
“He’s the muscular giant who keeps an eye on everything, practically runs the place. He’s my trainer. We work out together.”
No wonder Gabriel had muscles galore.
“I’m not a member. I’ve only gone a couple of times. I don’t really know anybody by name.”
“Do you go as a guest of the old guy?”
I should’ve anticipated that he’d flip the coin my way and ask questions of me in return.
“Yes.” Responding to that question made me feel icky. I crossed both my arms and legs.
“Is he your Dom?”
What? I shook my head with intention. “No.” He studied me, a baffled expression on his face. Fine, I’ll give him a nibble. “You were right when you said I wasn’t comfortable at the club. Hilltops is not my scene.”
“None of what happens there?”
“I’d rather not answer that question. What I will say is I don’t like putting my body on display in front of strangers, nor do I like them touching me.” Yet I’d allowed Gabe to console me a few minutes ago and he was basically a stranger to me—how hypocritical. He probably thought so too.
“What’s the difference if you let one man touch you or many? If you’re not married, it’s filth.”
Gabe folded his hands and placed them on his lap, his gesture looking a lot less defensive than mine did. “Yet you agreed to participate in a scene in the dungeon with a partner, with the old guy dictating the rules. I’m confused.”
“And it’ll remain that way.”
“Very well. I won’t probe any further.”
“Thank you. Now it’s my turn. I’m assuming you’re into that type of play?”
“I enjoy it, yes, but I would never follow through with a scene if the woman I was with had fear in her eyes like I saw in yours earlier tonight. There’s a protocol of respect in the lifestyle. I didn’t see much of that in your case.”
“I agreed to partake in the scene.” I shrugged, my eyes darting at the TV screen, my jaw tightening.
“Something tells me it wasn’t by choice.”
“Time to drop it again.”
This guy was good—too good, in fact, both easy to talk to and easy on the eyes. I had to take a step back or else I was going to find myself in deeper shit than I already was.
Chapter Four
Gabriel
Abigail Winters had a lot of secrets.
“So other than frequenting adult clubs, what is it you do with your time, Gabriel?”
She had to realize this conversation would go both ways. If I was willing to talk, she’d have to be as well.
“Gabe.”
“Sorry. Gabe.”
“I work in finance.”
“Impressive.” Her crossed arms shifted, and she folded her hands on her lap, appearing more comfortable with this type of discussion.
“What about you?” I wouldn’t mention having seen her wearing office attire on many occasions.
“I work for a company called Temp Easy.”
“What exactly is that?” I knew what happened when people made assumptions, and I wasn’t about to fall into that trap.
“They place secretaries and paralegals.”
Ah, got it. What a relief. Abigail’s behavior and demeanor didn’t strike me as the courtesan type.
“Is there a reason you’re doing temp work rather than finding a permanent, more stable job?”
Boom! Her posture stiffened again. I supposed we were heading back into dangerous territory. I would wait to see if she gave me an answer to the question.
“I got a job shortly after graduating from college but sadly, the company closed, leaving twenty-five employees without jobs, insurance, and benefits, me being one of them. It’s a shame, too, because I loved my boss. Anyway, bills had to be paid whether I was employed or not, so I took a job with Temp Easy, figuring I could at least bring in a paycheck while searching for another position. I still haven’t found one that interests me.”
“That’s tough. How long have you been with the agency?”
“A few months. I can’t complain. It puts food on the table.”
“It must pay well because the dresses I’ve seen you wearing look like they cost a small fortune.”
Fuck. That sounded judgmental, and stalker-ish too. I didn’t want to come across like a dick; the girl already seemed down and out.
She peered down at her folded hands.
“I’m sorry. That was presumptuous of me.”
“It’s fine. It must be obvious by now that the old guy pays for them, especially after what I just told you I do for a living.”
“Is it worth it?”
Her gaze shot to mine. “Is what worth it?”
“Putting yourself in uncomfortable situations for the old guy, who I’m going to presume pays for this apartment as well. I know what the rent goes for in this building, and it’s not cheap.”
“You can apologize again for being presumptuous.”
Her comment had a bit of sarcasm to it, but a hint of a smile took shape. We stared at each other. It gave me the perfect opportunity to notice the golden flecks in her honey brown eyes, and the small patch of freckles around her nose. Damn, not only was this woman pretty, she was adorable as well.
“Would it be presumptuous of me to ask you out to dinner?”
She broke the intense connection our eyes had going on. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
She suddenly became a jittery mess. What the fuck? I was the one who’d gotten rejected, not her. I had a reason to feel like shit, even though I had a feeling she wasn’t saying no because she didn’t want to accept the invitation.
“The old guy has a tight leash on you, doesn’t he?”
“Please don’t.”
I didn’t think she could have crawled up into herself any more if she tried.
“Very well. It’s getting late. I should get going.” I rose from the couch.
She stood too. “You’re leaving?”
She seemed surprised. I knew I was.
“It’s probably for the best.”
“Please…stay a little longer.”
Her words were more a plea than a request.
“You’re confusing me, Abigail.”
“Abby.”
“Sorry. Abby.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to go out to dinner with you. It’s just that I can’t…not yet.” What the fuck does that mean? “How about I cook us dinner tomorrow night instead?”
If I didn’t know better, I’d say this woman was grasping at straws.
“So he won’t know, right?” Shame filled those warm brown eyes of hers and she began twisting her fingers around each other. “I don’t know what type of agreement you have with that man, but I don’t want to be a part of it or get caught in the middle.” Especially if it was illegal or some shit.
I walked toward the door. She was on my tail. She grabbed my arm, this time more gently. When I turned around, sadness filled her features. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s just that… Forget it. Please take my word for it. I can’t tell you…not yet.”
She kept repeating herself.
“There seem to be a lot of not-yets in the picture.”
“Temporarily.” She frowned as she glanced at the tie on her robe.
Against my better judgment, I went ahead and said yes. “Fine. Dinner tomorrow night.”
Her eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
She smiled. “Great. Seven o’clock. Do you like chicken?”<
br />
The sudden enthusiasm that broke out on her part made me smile in return. “I do.”
“Great. Chicken it is.”
What reason could this beautiful woman have that would make her agree to an arrangement with an old geezer?
“I’m looking forward to it. And Gabe?”
Her eyes had something I couldn’t describe in them—pain? Relief?
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
For what, getting rejected then letting myself get sucked back into your mysterious web?
“Why are you thanking me?”
“For checking on me—it was thoughtful. It’s been a while since I’ve been in contact with a genuinely nice person. I’m glad you stopped by.”
What in the world had Abby gotten herself into that she didn’t come across nice people?
“I get the feeling underneath all the shit going on in your life is a woman I’d like to get to know better.” Wasn’t that the crazy truth.
Apparently she dug what I said because she rose on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek. “Good night, Gabe. See you tomorrow for dinner.”
She opened the door and locked it behind me. I went to my apartment, questioning myself about why I had caved and said I’d have dinner with her—a dinner I couldn’t take her out for, a dinner she’d offered to prepare for me instead. This type of insanity was the thing you saw on reality TV shows, and I was the dipshit who had just consented to take part in a real-life version of one because I was interested in seeing the season finale.
Chapter Five
Abigail
“You’re late.”
I glanced at my phone: 9:02. Is he kidding me?
“I’m sorry. One of the elevators in the lobby was broken.”
“No excuses, my dear girl. You must plan ahead for unexpected delays and schedule accordingly. Please work on the file on your desk. I need two lengthy and detailed emails sent to my attorney before noon. When you are finished, you can leave for the day.”
“No problem.” My jaw tightened. The man loved nothing more than to give me ten hours of work to complete in two or three.
Sitting behind my desk, I brought my computer to life and got to work. My cell chimed on my desk, indicating I had a text.
Mom: We met with the doctor this morning. Levels have gone up.
