by Luke Steel
Speaking of, I see him cut a deliberate peek behind me, and with a start, I realize he’s checking out mine.
His voice is lazy. “I mean, who knew my own parking garage afforded such a great view? But seriously, overall this is not a good look for you.”
Ugh! “I can’t play this game right now, ok Gabriel? My car fob rolled under here and I can’t reach it. I just want to go home. Please?”
“You’re on your knees begging to go home, Demi. It’s sad. Why don’t you quit already? Have some dignity.”
I bow my head. I’ve been running on high alert every day for weeks, now. I know it’s a losing battle, but he is really catching me at a bad time. I’m going to say something I’ll regret. I can feel it.
I try to head this off. “Fine. Whatever. I’m trying to reach this and get home to feed Ray. You can stand there all day like a voyeur gawking at me while I kneel in heels or you can be a human being for once and help me.” I stick my head back under the car and try to reach the dang fob again. I can still see his shoes in the corner of my eye, though, and after a few more seconds of useless straining, I realize he’s still there, and likely is still enjoying the view of me bent over. Damn it!
I scramble out from under the car, tugging at my skirt. He’s got that smirk on his face that I absolutely hate, and I want to slap it.
“Quit it!”
“Yeah, why haven’t you?” he counters.
“I’m not going to! Fire me if you have to, but this is childish. I called you a name. I said I’m sorry. I’ve been working my butt off for you for the last few weeks. I’ve proven to you I’m capable, intelligent, willing to work hard for you and for Mangovan Companies. I don’t deserve this!”
He’s silent after my little outburst, and the garage is silent around us. The moment is charged, neither of us looking away. I’m tired and a little dirty, and he looks so good, I want to hit something.
After another couple of seconds, Gabriel shrugs and starts walking away.
I can’t believe it. “You’re really, really not going to help me, are you?”
He stops walking and turns back to me. “You want me to help you?”
He says it like he’s better than me and I’m dreaming to think he’d even look at the likes of me. Which just makes me nuts.
“Is that so much to ask, really? Or maybe you really are the asshole they say you are.”
And there it is. I knew I was going to say something I’d regret. Before I used that word, Gabriel was just a cocky jerk. Now the fire-breathing dragon man is back and he looks pissed.
He flashes his teeth. “Simple. Go back into the building and find an umbrella or ruler or some other long object and then sweep the fob out with it. You’re so ‘intelligent,’” he raises his fingers in air quotes, “I’m sure you would have figured out that simple solution. Eventually, right?”
I can feel my face grow hot and red. He just raises a know-it-all eyebrow at me and starts to walk away. And even though he’s a sarcastic jerk and a total prick to me and I’ve never wanted to kick anybody so hard in my life, I still can’t help but notice his immaculate suit jacket is taut over very broad shoulders and muscles of his back. His ass is cute, too, and tight in the tailored slacks. He even smells good as he walks away.
I shout the next words, as much at myself as at him.
“Are you kidding me?”
My voice echoes sharply in the garage, and even I jump at the force of it. But I really have finally had it.
Gabriel stops and turns on his heel. It’s like watching a predator slow his roll in the jungle and turn to face me, his eyes narrowed and alert. I feel a warning prickle at the back of my neck, but I’m too pissed to really take heed. This man has tortured me for weeks, and maybe he did finally break me, but if I’m going to quit, I’m going out in a goddamn blaze of glory.
“You are an asshole,” I snarl at him. I’ve balled my hands into fists at my sides and I clench them with each syllable. From this distance, I can see his body tense and his eyes flare at the word. “You are! I was a jerk for talking out of school before I ever met you, but now that I know you and I’ve worked for you and you don’t appreciate it—at all—I can say with one hundred percent verified accuracy that you are, in fact, an asshole to a degree of a million!”
He starts walking back toward me, but I stand my ground. Ray would be so impressed.
“If I could spit, I would, but my mouth is too dry and I’m too pissed off. I’m hungry, I’m tired, I want to go home to my overpriced apartment that I can’t afford anymore because of you! And I need to feed my cat. Who’s starving! But you’re too much of a colossal dick—and an asshole—to help me!”
That tantrum I wanted to pitch? I’m pitching it. Complete with stomping feet. Gabriel stops right in front of me, looming like Frankenstein, but I just glare back and wait for him to stomp on me. The energy between us is so pent up and charged, I’m not really sure what’s going to happen next.
But Gabriel doesn’t do anything. I see the muscles working in his jaw, and I’m getting even angrier because this close he’s too handsome by half.
“Stop calling me that.” He grits the words.
“Asshole.”
“Stop.”
“Make me.”
“Stop.”
“No!”
I have to blink a few times but I refuse to look away. We sound like children, but I don’t care. This asshole can go to hell.
His jaw keeps working. Finally, he draws a deep, deep breath. Sets his day case on the hood of my SUV.
He holds out a hand to me.
“Heel.”
“I’m not a dog!” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest. “Don’t talk to me like that!”
He closes his eyes and shakes his head like I’m a moron. “Give me one of your high heels,” he says.
“What? Why?”
He opens his eyes and gestures impatiently with his hand. “My arms are longer than yours and it’s just a couple more inches. I can reach the fob with your shoe. Give me one of them.”
Gabriel doesn’t wait for me to do as he asks. Instead he tugs his tie open and then strips off his jacket, draping it neatly over my side mirror before he shoots his cuffs to unbutton them and roll up his sleeves. I’m watching all of this not moving, growing more agitated with myself because even in a parking garage, Gabriel Mangovan stripping off any of his clothes is just hot.
With his sleeves rolled up, he drops to the ground, only to lift again to remove his wallet from his back pocket and set it next to him. And then he looks up at me expectantly. I brace myself on the SUV and go to lift one of my heels, but Gabriel gets impatient and reaches for my ankle.
I don’t think I’m imagining it but we both freeze for a millisecond when he touches me. His large palm is warm on my bare leg, and he encircles my ankle and removes my left heel while I balance on the right. Our eyes meet for the briefest moment, and all I know is his hand is on my bare leg, very warm and firm. The moment breaks when he rolls his eyes and drops onto his back, scooching under the car and using the black patent leather pump to scoop at the fob.
I hear a scraping noise, and then the black plastic fob shoots out from under the vehicle. It worked.
Chastened and quiet, I stand there, unmoving, as he eases back out from under the car. He still has my heel in hand, only this time he doesn’t look up at me. Instead, he sets it neatly upright next to me and just sits there, watching, as I gingerly step back into it.
All the righteous anger that had built up so hot and bigger than me before has just evaporated into nothing. And now, what I think I’m feeling is sorry. And guilty. Again.
Damnit.
I bend down and pluck the fob up from the ground. And when I turn around, I see that Gabriel is still sitting next to my car, watching me bend over. I feel my face flush and that bolt of heat I’m getting used to feeling whenever he looks at me streaks through me again.
Mute and confused, I walk back over to hi
m and offer my hand. He looks at my hand, then up at me. The moment hangs between us. And then he takes it and lets me pull him up.
His muscles flex under my fingertips, and can feel how strong he is. He could take me down if he wanted. He could pull himself up alone. Finally standing, face-to-face and less than a few inches away, I’m keenly aware of his skin and breath. His eyes are dark, almost black now, instead of blue. Any second he could just move forward and take me, and I think I’d let him.
“Go home, Demi,” he says. “Feed your cat.” And he turns, takes his jacket, and walks away into the building, without another word.
I almost did what he said. Alone in the garage with my car fob finally in hand, I just stood there for a bit and tried to unscramble my brain before climbing behind the wheel. I was closing the driver door when I spotted his wallet. Simple black leather billfold. He’d forgotten it next to my car.
The anger and the rush of being so close to him made me foggy. Still, after the guy helped me, the least I could do is return the thing. Part of me whispered a warning that nothing good could come of seeing him again that night. I didn’t listen.
I assume Gabriel took his private express elevator straight up to his office. The guy is a stickler for his own entrances, that’s for sure. I take the slower public one, using my key card for the private floor. The building is pretty much empty this time of night, so there are no stops before the elevator opens at the top. The long-shadowed hallway is completely dark when I step out.
The massive doors are only slightly ajar, and there’s almost no light in the office except for the cityscape, a carpet of light below and beyond the glass. I walk into his office as I have over a dozen times now, moving silently toward the desk. The wingback chair behind the desk is turned toward the windows, but I see Gabriel sprawled out in it. And something else. His pants are open and he’s taking the thick shaft of his penis in hand.
I don’t have to walk completely around the desk to see what he’s doing. He’s in the chair, his head tilted up, his back arched while his fist pumps rhythmically. I’ve seen his body practically naked—haven’t been able to forget it since—so I know what he must look like, even in shadow, as he strokes himself. I remember the warm press of his palm in mine less than twenty minutes ago. Watching from the shadows behind him, seeing him work the glistening head with his thumb as he strokes the long shaft, that streak of heat that hits me whenever I watch him blooms all over my body at once.
His lip draws back in a small snarl as he strokes, and the tiny aggression in that just makes it hotter. I have instant fantasies of climbing up into his lap and kissing him while he strokes, helping, watching up close. His hand is moving faster, and then he opens his mouth and groans. No, wait, not a groan. He says something. A name.
“Demi…”
I drop the wallet. It slips out of my fingers, I’m so shocked, and it thunks on his desk. The sound is tiny and muffled. But it’s enough. His eyes pop open and turn to me.
I step several steps back, almost tripping on my heels, and he jerks out of his chair, quickly pulling his pants together.
“Christ! What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I wanted— And you left your— I’m sorry.”
He wrestles his suit pants fully closed, and his hands are still.
“You left your wallet by my car. I wanted to return it. I was going to say thank you and apologize.” I blurt out all of that in a rush.
Silence in the dark. By the light of the city I can see his face, grim and drawn. Taut. I can see he’s breathing hard, too.
“What did you see?” he asks, staring into the middle distance between us.
There’s no way to fake it. “You know what I saw.”
He turns his back to me, his hands on his hips. There’s a low buzzing in my head and I have this urge to go to him. I wonder what he’d do if I did. Walk up to him and put my hand into the deep space between his shoulder blades.
He’s talking to the glass wall, his back to me when he asks the next question.
“What did you hear?”
I don’t answer that one. And when the silence stretches out, he curses and turns back to me, his eyes burning. Gabriel is a tall, broad silhouette against the sparkling backdrop of the city skyline, imposing like that picture in the paper. Only now when I look at him, I see him in the chair again, his face taut, his mouth open, eyes closed as he stroked himself, his fist working the thick, hard length of his…dear lord, he’s huge.
Embarrassed, I realize I’m staring at the front of his pants while he’s watching me. I step back just as he steps into the light. His shirt sleeves are rolled up on his forearms and his tie is off. I can see hair just at the top of his unbuttoned shirt, and my mind immediately flashes back to when I first saw standing in his apartment in his open bathrobe, and my palms itched to reach out and stroke the flat muscles on his chest and the sun-warmed skin.
I take a shaky breath and try to steady myself. “But I thought you hated me.”
Without warning, Gabriel stalks around the desk to me. I turn to face him and when he catches up to me he’s bullying his chest up against mine. The first contact is a shock and I stumble back a bit, but then I feel the edge of the desk at my behind. He doesn’t stop until he’s walked up into my space and suddenly, I’m surrounded. He’s so tall and broad and just looming over me. He’s everywhere. And then he dips his head, leans in close.
For a second I think he’s about to kiss me and my mind just blanks. The anticipation is an instantaneous hit to the gut, a hard knot in my belly. But instead of his lips, I only feel his warm breath on my face. The heat coming off him is incredible, and my own lips fall open. Even then he doesn’t kiss me, though, just speaks.
“I do hate you,” he says, low and deep. A growl.
I feel a lump rise in my throat when I hear the words, but he’s not finished.
“I hate your attitude. I hate your confidence. I hate how mouthy you are. I hate your slow smile and the way your little ass twitches in your skirt when you walk through my office door a hundred times a day. I hate your curly hair.”
When he mentions my hair I suddenly feel his hand clench in it. Gentle, but very firm. And then he tugs my head back until I feel his lips and breath skimming my neck. It’s an electric shock when I feel the very tip of his tongue, warm and lazy, lick up the column of my neck to my chin. It’s raw and erotic and my whole body draws up tight.
My vision is hazy and I can barely draw a breath when I feel his hands snake down my sides and then lift me up onto the desk. I curl my legs up instinctively, and he’s between my thighs, pressing between them, his chest still against mine. Only now I feel the rock-hard press of his erection against my panties.
“I hate that I can’t stop thinking about what I want to do to you.” I feel him close between my thighs, and as if to make his point, he surges against me. “And I hate that all you think about me is what an asshole I am.” He gives us both a little shake with that last sentence.
“Well… you are,” I say weakly, because I’m aching all over for him to kiss me already.
He pulls back and looks me in the eye then. His face is less than an inch away and I want to slap him, bite him, kiss him, everything all at once.
And then he surprises me.
“I know,” he says, agreeing with me. Where before he sounded hot and ready to rumble, his voice now is weary. Even sad. He surprises me again when he presses his forehead to mine. He moves his hands from my hair to my collar bone, and I feel the pads of his thumbs trace the ridge. I put my hands on his forearms, hanging on. I’m still shocked this is happening. Shocked at the way I’m responding. I look down at the little space left between our bodies, and every time I breathe in, my nipples graze his chest. I can feel the edge of his belt on the sensitive skin on the inside of my knees.
“What would it take, Demi?” he asks as he rubs his thumb up my neck to tilt my chin up to him, and our mouths are level again. “Wh
at would it take to change your opinion? To change everyone’s opinions? I’m such a monster because I work all the time. But I’m also good because I choose work over beautiful, sexy distractions. Like you.”
His eyes bore directly into mine, all my senses are overwhelmed. The feel of his warm breath, the delicious, spicy scent of his cologne, the surreal, out of time moment with this man I’ve hated these past few weeks up close, practically on top of me, for the very first time. The heat between us just builds and builds.
But then something in his eyes seems to change. The coldness is beginning to seep back into them and this close to him, I can see it as it’s happening. The familiar dread inside me comes surging back. He’s going to pull away.
Before I can think too hard, before his muscles flex and begin to loosen under my hands, I dig my nails in and stop his retreat.
“Who says you have to be good all the time?” I ask. And then I lean forward to kiss him.
5
Gabriel
No prelim. No hesitation. When Demi kisses me, it’s like she throws a switch between us and the war we’ve been fighting finally comes to a head. Literally. I grab two fistfuls of her hair and kiss her back so hard she gasps. Even then, no quarter. When her lips part, I lick into her mouth and taste her for the very first time. She’s as sweet and hot as I knew she’d be, and I want more.
She’s soft, yielding, but that doesn’t mean she’s helpless. Demi duels with me, her mouth sealed to mine while her arms and legs close tight around me. Caught in a honey trap, I feel her fingers slide into my hair to the scalp and then she closes her fists, gripping to the point of pain. Arms around my neck, her thighs clamped tight around my hips, the only way I can move is to grind into her and her perfect tits are pressed to my chest while my cock lodges into the soft hot notch between her legs. Our bodies are sealed.
I’m not going to lose this battle. I tug at her hair until her head drops back, finally freeing my mouth to move to her neck. She squeals when I suck the sensitive skin there, her whole body surging up into me again. And once more we’re locked in, tight and taut, not moving, both refusing to let go even a little.
