His Brat (Off Limits Book 1)

by Kali Argent

  His offer was met with a resounding cheer.

  The man in front of the line said, “I would’ve let her go before me, but thanks!”

  Gabe handed a few bills over to the waitress, and she passed out the shots. Leaving them behind, I hurried into the bathroom. The men standing at the urinals turned to gape at me as I headed toward the two stalls near the back. I stared in shock at the men standing in front of the toilets.

  Where the hell were the doors to the stalls?

  I took a step back and bumped into someone directly behind me. I squeaked in surprise, then relaxed when I realized it was just Gabe. When I whispered my question to him, he smirked at me and gestured toward one of the newly empty stalls.

  “Most guys don’t care about doors, and they don’t want people using the stalls for…never mind. Trust me, you don’t want to sit down. Just squat and do your thing.”

  I shoved my yard cup at him. “Hold this for me.”

  Swallowing hard, I stepped into the open stall. It really was gross in there, and I could see for myself why he had issued the warning. Turning, I realized Gabe was standing in the open doorway with his back towards me. It was sweet of him to block me from view, but I was mortified that I was going to have to pee in front of him. Or behind him.

  Either way, it was embarrassing.

  Lifting my skirt, I pulled down my thong and squatted. When I couldn’t seem to relax, I closed my eyes and tried to forget Gabe was standing there. That wasn’t going to happen. I opened my eyes and saw him glance over his shoulder.

  “Don’t look, you perv!”

  He laughed. “I thought you had to go.”

  “I do, but I’m…I can’t go with you standing there.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to.”

  Clenching my teeth, I tried to concentrate, but it wasn’t working. I don’t know if the man in the next stall took pity on me or if he just needed his own distraction. Either way, I was grateful when he started singing along with the song blaring over the speakers. A few of the other men in the bathroom joined in for the chorus, and that seemed to do the trick. When I was finished, I heaved out a sigh of relief. I used the bottom of my shoe to press down the lever, then turned to find Gabe grinning at me.

  “I can’t believe you looked,” I scolded, wagging my finger at him.

  “You were done.” He lowered his voice to a whisper as I passed him on my way to the sink. “I didn’t figure you as the red thong type.”

  I almost stumbled.

  “They’re supposed to be good luck,” I stammered as I stood at the sink, washing my hands. When my gaze lifted, I took in my own reflection at a glance. Surprisingly, I didn’t look like a sweaty mess. My hair was slightly tousled, but it didn’t look too bad. The chocolate brown faded to a shade lighter about an inch from the ends, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it now.

  I made a mental note to schedule a trim as soon as possible.

  My makeup had held up well, and there were no streaks or black smudges from my mascara, proving its claim of being waterproof. The green eyeshadow had faded some, but it still stood out enough to compliment the gold flecks in my hazel irises. My cheeks were flushed pink, partly from the drinking, though more from the fact that Gabe had seen my thong.

  When I met his piercing gaze in the mirror, my breath caught.

  “Are they?”

  Oh, no. My brain was malfunctioning again. “W-what?”

  “Are they lucky?”

  “I—I don’t know.” I tore my gaze from his and grabbed a few paper towels out of the dispenser. Glancing back, I froze when I saw that all of the men in the room were watching us. Plastering a smile on my face, I said, “Gentlemen, thank you for the bathroom serenade.”

  Holding onto what was left of my dignity, I hurried out of the bathroom. Once we were back in the main bar, Gabe pushed in front of me, snagging my hand to make sure I followed him out. As we weaved through the crowd, some random guy handed me a shot glass. Obviously, he’d lost track of how many people were in his group and had handed it to me by mistake. Shrugging, I raised the glass to my lips and drank it down, then coughed. My throat felt like it was on fire.

  Tequila was a killer.

  Gabe glanced back at me, and I discreetly slid the empty glass onto a table and smiled up at him. His frown told me I hadn’t pulled off the innocent look I had been going for. Or maybe I had and that was what made him so suspicious.

  When we were back on the street, I playfully swung his hand. Something had changed, and suddenly, it felt like we were actually holding hands like a real couple. A low, smoldering heat burned in my belly, and I tried to keep my voice light when I said, “Thanks for bribing those guys.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I don’t think I heard that right. Did you actually just thank me for something?”

  I bumped my hip against him. “You’re pretty nice when you aren’t being so bossy.”

  “And you can be sweet when you aren’t being a pain in my ass.”

  When he let go of my hand, I immediately missed him. Needing to put some space between me and the focus of my ridiculous crush, I didn’t protest as he walked me the two blocks to my hotel. Like a good warden, he insisted on escorting me to my room. I realized he was still holding my bright green yard cup in the elevator, and after taking the keycard out of my purse, I took it from him.

  As we got to the end of the hallway, I heard laughter rising above the music coming from behind the closed door. Sharing a glance with Gabe, I used the key, then pushed the door open. Two steps into the room, I came to a dead stop. The two friends I was staying with were with three men I’d never seen before…and they were all naked.

  “Layla! We were wondering where you were.” Grace Prescott blushed as she sat up on one of the queen beds and pulled a blanket over herself. She was one of the first people I’d met at college, and we managed to stay close friends after she’d moved back to New York at the end of our first year.

  But this was definitely more of her than I ever wanted to see.

  Then again, at least she wasn’t sandwiched between two naked men like her friend Julie was. She sent me a smile that turned sly as it shifted over to Gabe. “Why don’t you guys grab a drink and join us?”

  “Get your things,” Gabe ordered in a low, furious voice. “We’re leaving.”

  “What?” I stood frozen in place. “What?”

  The third man sat down on the pullout bed where I was supposed to sleep and reached for the Tulane T-shirt I had left there earlier. When he placed it over his lap, I wanted to groan. Great, there was a naked ass on my bed, and now his dick was wearing my shirt. I wondered if the fire alarms would go off if I burned that shirt on the small balcony attached to the room.

  When Gabe swatted me on the ass, I gasped in surprise. God, there were way too many asses in the room right now. A hysterical giggle burst from my lips before I could hold it back. The situation was so ridiculous, I couldn’t help myself.

  “Get. Your. Things. Now.”

  “What? I…umm…things,” I repeated with a nod.

  It didn’t take me long to grab my toiletry carrier and makeup bag from the bathroom. My cheeks flushed with heat as I shoved my things into my bag while trying to avoid looking at any of the naked bodies in the room. I yelped as I turned and found Gabe standing right next to me instead of by the door. Lifting my bag as if it weighed nothing, he put his other arm around my waist and practically carried me toward the exit.

  “I’ll call you later,” Grace yelled as the door closed behind us.

  Back in the elevator, I watched the numbers counting down as we headed toward the lobby level. The absurdity of the last few minutes left me feeling kind of queasy. It wasn’t that I disapproved of the situation. Grace and her friend were free to do whatever they wanted. But since I was still a virgin, that was way more than I could handle.

  “My hotel is on the next block. You can stay in my suite tonight. It’s two levels, so there’s plenty
of room.” His tone was clipped, and I could tell that he was still angry.

  As the elevator doors opened, I said, “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  I wasn’t sure exactly. Unable to look at him yet, I simply shrugged as we crossed the lobby. “That you’re stuck with me tonight. They probably called, but I haven’t checked my phone. I didn’t know my friends were planning an orgy. Well, I don’t think it was planned. It sort of looked like a…”

  “A what?”

  “A spontaneous orgy?”

  He laughed. “I think most are.”

  The cool night air felt good against my heated skin as we walked outside, but my stomach continued to flip and churn. That last shot had been a bad idea…and the alcohol was finally catching up with me. As I moved to the side to avoid a large group of people, I stumbled, and a wave of dizziness swept over me.

  Uh oh. This wasn’t good.

  If I could just close my eyes for a few seconds…

  “Gabe?”

  “What is it, brat?”

  “I think I’m going to—”

  The last thing I heard was his vicious curse before I passed out.

  Chapter Two

  Waking up in a strange hotel room wearing some dude’s shirt and not much else wasn’t nearly as concerning to me as it probably should have been. Partly, because my head was still spinning from the alcohol I’d consumed. Mostly, however, because I recognized the white, button-down as the one Gabe had been wearing earlier. Or at least one very much like it.

  It even smelled like him. Well, it smelled like his cologne. I knew this because he’d been partial to the same one for the last four years, and I couldn’t get within ten feet of the fragrance without soaking my panties.

  Like now. Great.

  On the bright side, at least I was still wearing panties. Granted, the red thong didn’t cover much, but it still counted. I couldn’t believe I’d let my friends talk me into wearing it. Or that I’d told Gabe it was lucky.

  Oh, fuck.

  Bolting upright, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and dropped my face into my hands as my cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Had I really stood in the middle of a men’s restroom and had a conversation with him about my underwear?

  Yes. Yes, I had.

  I’d also danced on a bar, told someone on the street that I wasn’t wearing a bra, stumbled upon a spontaneous orgy, and drank tequila. I hated tequila.

  Clearly, drunk me couldn’t be trusted to make good decisions.

  On the other hand, Gabe had been really sweet. Sure, he’d yelled at me a lot, but he’d also bought shots for a bunch of guys so I wouldn’t have to wait in line to pee. He’d held my hand. Considering he’d been dragging me down the street by said hand, he clearly hadn’t meant it to be a romantic gesture. Still, it had felt nice.

  Damn it, I really needed to stop obsessing over Gabe Freaking Turner. No matter how much I wanted him, it was never going to happen. He didn’t see me as a woman, not really. I didn’t register on his radar. For crying out loud, he hadn’t even had the decency to friend-zone me. Instead, he just treated me like a pest, as if showing up to ruin my fun was so inconvenient for him.

  How the hell had he even found me, anyway?

  Dropping my hands to my lap, I stared at the painted, sliding doors I assumed opened to a closet and sighed. I didn’t have any answers, and my head hurt too much to try to figure it out right then. In fact, the only thing I knew with absolute certainty was that I needed to pee. Again.

  The loft bedroom of Gabe’s suite was nice, if maybe a little old-fashioned. The furniture wasn’t old, just made to look that way. Whoever had told the owners that red walls with green carpet was chic had lied to them, but whatever. It was still a lot fancier than the hotel I’d been staying at with my friends.

  Rounding the queen-size bed, I followed the sound of running water to a small alcove at the back of the loft. For a moment, I thought about walking right in, then feigning innocence when Gabe yelled at me for intruding. My bravery lasted all of about two seconds before succumbing to a painful death. As much as I wanted to catch a glimpse of him naked—only to appease my own curiosity, of course—I couldn’t just barge in on him. That would be rude.

  So, I lifted my hand to knock but stopped just before my knuckles rapped against the wood, frozen by the sight of the fabric around my wrist. I was wearing Gabe’s shirt. The fact had registered only as a side note when I’d first woken up, but now, the implications of it hit me like a wrecking ball.

  The only way I could be wearing the crisp, white dress shirt was if Gabe had put it on me. The only way he could have put it on me was to take off my other clothes, which meant…

  “Oh, my god,” I breathed. “Oh, my fucking god.”

  Gabe Turner had seen me naked, save for an incredibly indecent pair of scarlet underwear. I was going to die. Well, first, I was going to hyperventilate, but then…then I was going to die.

  Yet, even with my modesty on life-support, I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d thought.

  My breasts were perky but small. My stomach was flat, but not tanned or toned like the models in magazines. My legs weren’t long and shapely, either, but I thought they looked pretty good in a skirt. As a bonus, I’d even remembered to shave them before heading out with my friends earlier.

  Standing at the bathroom door, arm still raised, I stared at the shirt sleeve as if I could read the threads the way some people read tea leaves. The material didn’t hold any secrets to the universe, though, and it sure as hell didn’t have the answers I needed. It couldn’t tell me if Gabe had been clinical and indifferent when he’d dressed me. It couldn’t tell me if he’d been aroused by what he’d seen.

  Still, I stared.

  I stared until my bladder spasmed with an urgent reminder of why I was standing there in the first place. Unfortunately, it also made me forget why walking into the bathroom without announcing myself was a bad idea until I’d already turned the knob and shoved open the door.

  Clouds of opaque steam rushed to meet me, bathing my skin and filling my nose with the fresh—albeit, generic—scent of soap. Not floral or fruity. Nothing like the vanilla stuff I used. Whatever it was, it just smelled…clean.

  I made it three steps across the shiny black tiles when the water shut off, and I froze as Gabe stepped around the half wall of the shower stall. What the fuck kind of shower didn’t even have so much as a curtain?

  “Layla?”

  I squeaked. I couldn’t help it. I also couldn’t turn around or look away. He was just so naked.

  And wet.

  And naked.

  He just stood there, not moving, not even trying to cover himself. Obviously comfortable in his nudity, he stared back at me as if this sort of thing happened all the time. I couldn’t breathe.

  His locks stood out in disarray, and beads of water trickled down his very muscular chest to the indentations at his hips. Did I mention he was naked?

  Jesus, he was so naked.

  Yes, I had been fantasizing about seeing him in all his bare glory a few seconds ago, but that was different. I had been prepared then, or at least, I thought I’d been. I had no idea what to do with surprise nudity.

  It wasn’t like I’d never seen a dick before. It was the twenty-first century, and I did have the internet. Plus, there had been one wearing my favorite Tulane University shirt earlier in my hotel room. I hadn’t, however, seen Gabe’s before, and the longer I continued to stare, the more it swelled and hardened.

  “Layla!” he barked.

  “Huh?”

  I still couldn’t look away. The damn thing just kept getting bigger. It was long and thick with a slight upward curve and a flared crown that was beginning to turn an angry shade of red. A prominent vein ran along the side, pulsing visibly, and when I unconsciously licked my lips, his cock jerked. Hard.

  “Layla!” he yelled again. “Get out, brat!”

  “Oh.” Startled out of my lustful thou
ghts, I stumbled back a step. “Right. Sorry!” I spun around so fast, I collided with the edge of the open door and smacked my forehead against it. “Ow! Fuck.”

  “Damn it, are you okay?”

  He took a step toward me, but all that bronzed skin on display made my brain malfunction, so I threw my hands up and jerked back, promptly throwing my shoulder into the door this time. It swung back, hit the wall, then rebounded to knock me upside the back of the head.

  “Ow,” I groaned again, wishing for a hole to open up in the floor and spare me from any further mortification.

  “Are you done?” Gabe asked, the Texas drawl I knew he hated bleeding into his voice.

  “Yes.” I pressed three fingers to my forehead where it still throbbed and rubbed lightly. “Sorry. I’m going.” I did my best not to look at him at all, but as I backed out of the room, my gaze strayed to his impressive cock again. “Congratulations!”

  Oh, dear baby Jesus in the manger. Why had I said that? There was something seriously wrong with me. No, not me. It was all Gabe’s fault. He’d completely short-circuited my brain-to-mouth filter. In my defense, a dick that big seemed like the type of thing that should be applauded.

  Dying of humiliation, I hurried out of the bathroom and across the loft to the spiral staircase. Taking the steps as quickly and carefully as I could, I breathed a little easier as I put more distance between myself and the object of my desire.

  The main area of the suite had a few more modern touches than the bedroom, like the chrome wet bar, the enormous flat screen, and the black, marbled floor. The furniture still looked like something out of a 1940s issue of Better Homes and Gardens, but at least the walls had been painted in a neutral beige color.

  I hadn’t descended the stairs just to escape my embarrassment, though. I’d come looking for a bathroom, but there were only three doors in the common area. The one on the far side of the room, I took to be the exit. The one adjacent to it turned out to be a closet. That just left the door at the base of the stairs, but a peek through the curtains showed that it opened to a large balcony with a spectacular view of Bourbon Street.

  What genius decided a suite that big only needed one bathroom?