Hot Summer Nights

by Lisa Marie Perry

“Does she know it ended two months ago, or did you meet me and decide to kick some poor sucker to the curb?” Okay, that was harsh—brutal, even—but she’d witnessed it happen in her old world and knew that damaging relationships were just as common in La-La Land. “I want to know if you’re breaking some woman’s heart to get to me.”

  “I’m not a man who’d use a woman that way. You don’t know me, so I wouldn’t expect you to know that about me. But I’m in front of you and telling you and what I need to know is whether or not you trust me.”

  Conflicted, Gabrielle shook her head. “I can’t do this. Why are we talking about trust anyway?”

  “Because hopefully you’ll be joining me at my vacation property and I want you to be comfortable.”

  “Let me ask you something, then. Are you inviting my competition to the studio, too?”

  “There is no competition. It’s only you. I’ve decided that the Belleza Resort and Spa will be the venue for Phenom’s celebration.”

  The Belleza got the account! Recalling what Kimberly had said about the prospect of absorbing the publicity of the event, Gabrielle bounced up on her toes and flung her arms around Geoffrey.

  One of his arms loosely held her against him, and she moaned before she could squelch. Undoing the trouble she was headed for, she quickly backed down. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? Being excited that you secured an account?”

  “For hugging you. I shouldn’t have.”

  “I’m glad you did, Gabrielle.”

  “It’s just business,” she said. “Just an event.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “I already told you what I want. I can’t have it. I can’t have you.” She’d be damned if she looked into his eyes while she said this. There was only so much disappointment she could handle, only so much she could demand of herself. “Anything else you care to know?”

  “Yeah,” he said in a whisper. “What’s that gooey stuff on your chin?”

  Gabrielle felt her cheeks flame and immediately scrubbed a hand over her face. “It’s ice cream,” she said.

  “What flavor?”

  “Cherry Garcia. Ben & Jerry’s. Why are you so interested?”

  He smiled a little and lifted a hand to brush aside a wayward strand of hair from her face. His thumb brushed her cheek ever-so-lightly. “So you and old boy Roarke are close, I take it?”

  “What makes you ask?”

  “The way he talked about you. Like you’re the best thing to hit this earth since…since ice cream. And he’s protective. He asked if I was between girlfriends when I told him we’d had our meeting on the balcony today. He thinks I’m out to make you my territory.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “You’re a woman, not territory. What happens between us is as much your choice as it is mine. I’m not interested in steering you to my bed tonight.”

  “But you’d happily steer me to my bed.”

  “Gotta admit, it’s a shorter distance. And does it make me a bastard that I’m out-of-my-head-attracted to you?”

  “No.”

  “I should also tell you that I got the impression that Roarke was trying to protect what’s his.”

  Gabrielle searched his eyes, wondering what his angle was. She suspected jealousy, but why would he make up something like this about her assistant? “Roarke’s my assistant and a nice guy. That’s it.”

  “Mr. Nice Guy can’t have a crush on his boss? You’re not naive enough to believe that.”

  “It’s late, Geoffrey.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I think, if I go to the studio next weekend, I’ll drive. Alone.”

  “No Roarke coming along with you?”

  “The Pearl can’t spare us both.”

  He turned to go, but pivoted and touched her arm. “There’s no point in you driving to Storey Springs. If you don’t want to fly, I’ll drive you.”

  She shook her head. “Nope.” She hoped she wouldn’t regret this. “I’ll get on the jet, but if you’d like to ride to the airport with me, my only condition is that we take my car.”

  “What do you drive?”

  “A Ford F350.”

  “Uh—”

  “I swear, if you say that’s a ‘man’s truck,’ I’ll slam my door in your face,” she warned. Defeat washed over his face and he shrugged with his palms held up in all innocence.

  “I was going to say that’s a solid truck. Good space for somebody like me. I have height. Long legs.”

  “I noticed. Um, so then we’re agreed?”

  “Sure,” he replied, and turned to leave.

  Gabrielle snagged his sleeve. At his questioning glance, she hurriedly said, “If I’m going to pick you up, I’ll need to know where to find you.”

  He wrote down the address. “We can talk more tomorrow.”

  “Definitely,” she said, then escorted him out and returned to find her ice cream a liquid puddle in its container. After she disposed of it and jogged to her bathroom, she wondered if he’d shown up fully intending to catch her unguarded and depleted of good sense.

  She’d been making bad choice after bad choice since she’d met the man, and wasn’t likely to correct herself anytime soon.

  She drew a bubble bath, lit a couple of scented candles and sank into the tub.

  She shivered, recalling how his eyes had swept over her. His attention had made her crazy wondering what he was thinking when his eyes dropped to her feet and then rose to her hips when she’d turned to grab the telephone. She’d pretended not to notice, but she felt his eyes on her.

  Gabrielle let her head drop back as she stifled a yawn and shut her eyes against the candlelit atmosphere. The water felt so good caressing her skin…

  So did Geoffrey’s hands. So did his body.

  Alone with him now, without the risk of being interrupted, in bed, not on a balcony, she wove her anxious fingers through his hair and felt him moan against the hollow of her throat. This was bad, deliciously bad for reasons she couldn’t be bothered with now. All she was certain of was that she craved this chance to be bad, with him.

  Geoffrey stilled to rake his eyes over her, satisfaction washing over his face at the sight of her, sweat-dampened and unkempt, her mouth parted and uttering desperate pleas for him to fill her. His palms cruised over her stomach until his fingers crept lower to make her whimper. He teased her, bringing her to the edge and then suddenly switching tempo.

  He moved up her body again, pressing her deeper against the soft sheets, this time clasping her wrists in one hand and parting her thighs with the other. He demanded that she keep her gaze steady on his as he plunged inside her and emptied himself in her.

  Then his head dropped and that amazing mouth drew in a taut nipple. His teeth scraped the sensitive flesh, causing her to arch against the wall of his whipcord-lean, nude body. His tongue soothed her until the first orgasm exploded through her.

  Geoffrey alternated between her breasts until they were throbbing and sending shock waves straight to her clitoris. Then he slung one of her legs over his shoulder and licked her.

  Again she broke, this time in his mouth as his tongue tortured her. She’d wanted to return the pleasure, to use her mouth on him, but he’d pressed her against the bed and rose above her. Finally he buried the hard length of himself into her and began to rock.

  With each roll of his hips, she moaned into his mouth. He cupped a breast in his hand and gently squeezed and fondled while his tongue greedily sought and his hips grinded. Passion poured from her sobs as she writhed beneath him. Then his eyes, so dark and clouded with lust, locked on hers and she was every bit the hypocrite she never wanted to be.

  On fire, Gabrielle jerked up and splashed water over the bathroom tile. Her heart pounded and she felt a deep throbbing sensation between her thighs. She clamped her legs together and slapped a hand over her flushed face.

  Around her, the room had fallen dark because the candles had burned to puddles of wax. How long had she b
een asleep, dreaming of tireless banging? She climbed out of the cold water, toweled dry and padded naked to her bedroom. She’d spent half the night dreaming of steamy, reckless sex with a man who wanted to make her his next flavor of the week.

  She slid into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. No way could she keep living like this. It had been so long since she’d had sex that she’d forgotten what it felt like to move so intimately against someone else, to have his mouth discover and exploit every sexy crevice of her body…

  She punched her pillow. At this rate, she’d never sleep peacefully. What she needed was a flat-out good lay, or some productive work to do.

  Her only current reasonable option for sex was a stranger, someone far from Belleza, California. Even if Geoffrey was right about Roarke and the guy was cradling some crush on her, it didn’t matter because he was dating someone else and he was her colleague. Sex with him would be the messiest complication she could bring down on herself.

  Sex with Geoffrey Girard would be messy in the hot, delicious sense. He would move that perfect mouth downward, pausing to lick into her navel before continuing on to where he’d be holding her still with his strong, skillful hands bracing her quivering thighs open wide.

  “Damn.” Gabrielle kicked her covers aside, put on her most unattractive, unsexy pajamas and hurried downstairs to brew a pot of coffee and boot up her cracked laptop.

  Chapter 5

  Geoffrey was half expecting the ice-cold attitude the hostess served him when he showed up at the Pearl at seven for his meeting with Gabrielle. She’d suggested the time, saying her shift was over at five but she’d need some time to freshen up. Arriving on time, he stepped to the hostess’s station to be escorted to a table.

  Charlene stared him dead in the eye and walked away.

  If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under.

  “Can I help you out there?” a slow, gruff voice offered.

  Turning around, Geoffrey saw an elderly man approaching. “You’re that waiter from the other day. You took my order and disappeared. What the hell was that about?”

  The man didn’t deny the accusation. Instead, the old guy looked pretty damned pleased with himself. Nodding, he stuck out a gnarled hand. “Jonah Grady. I run the bar. The gatekeeper didn’t seem all that friendly to you. Is there something I can do?”

  Geoffrey glanced in the direction where Charlene had stormed off. “You weren’t keen on helping me when I gave you that lunch order. I could wait for the hostess to come back and do her job.”

  “Charlene’s eyes were shooting daggers at you,” Jonah said. “I could see that from the bar. Care to step over for a drink? Advice is complimentary, you know.”

  “I’m meeting the executive chef,” he said. “But all right, I’ll take you up on that advice.”

  “No drink?” Jonah checked as he stepped behind the bar.

  “No.” Geoffrey didn’t care if he was the only patron surrounding the bar who didn’t have a drink front and center. A couple of days ago he’d considered refusing the sauvignon blanc that Gabrielle had served him, but he thought he had deserved the courtesy, all things considered. Now the waiter to blame was right here in his face, and he wanted the man to recognize what he’d done. “I wasn’t all that okay with your level of service the other day. You needed to hear that from me, man to man.”

  Jonah took a cloth and began to fold it. “The Pearl made amends, I’m sure of it.”

  “I took my complaint directly to the head honcho—unintentionally. I thought she was a waitress at the time. She did make amends.”

  “Then pardon me if I don’t feel regret for knocking over the first domino.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I saw Charlene give you her appraisal that day. You may not have rejected her outright, but your body language did all the talking for you. And I thought I’d help you out by getting you the attention of a different sort of girl. That’d be Gabby.”

  “So you set me up so I’d get pissed off with management?”

  “In a manner of speaking. Gabby is management here. As for you mistaking her for a waitress, that’s not my doing. Now you’re here again to see her.” Jonah opened a bottle of FIJI Water and poured it over a glass of ice. “What I’d like to know, if you could humor a curious old man, is what you did to tick off Charlene.”

  Geoffrey accepted the water with a nod of thanks. “I made it clear that I’m not interested. Not in her.”

  Jonah chuckled. “You emphasized the her. I’d stake my tip bowl on which her has got your interest. It’s not too hard to figure it out, if she’s got you coming back here again and again.” He sobered quickly then moved on to another patron, not before muttering, “And here she is. Try not to mess this up.”

  Geoffrey hadn’t decided whether the bartender was out to help him or play games with his mind, and he was still undecided when Gabrielle appeared beside him in a tattered-hem Pearl T-shirt and tight black jeans. Her hair was pulled back from her face and secured with…

  “Is that twine?” he asked, at the last minute stopping himself from reaching over to touch it.

  “Twine? Oh!” Gabrielle’s fingers fluttered over her hair. “Yeah. I snapped my elastic earlier and made do with what was handy. Listen, Geoffrey, we had a mishap with some spoiled fish today. No one has a decent explanation for this, but somehow the fridge storing our extremely hard to get high-quality Pacific fish became unplugged and you can imagine the loss. I’m sure you can now figure out why I’m still working and very late for our meeting.”

  She’d hesitated on the word meeting, looking around at the guests and bartender.

  “I can wait.”

  “Geoffrey, I can’t waste your time like this. I’m a mess and I probably still smell like fish.” She made a face. “In fact, I should step back. I’m stepping back. Spoiled fish isn’t the most attractive fragrance on a gal.”

  “You don’t smell like fish.” The look she fired at him had him laughing. “Nice side eye, Gabrielle, but I think you smell like steak.”

  She quit moving backward. “I just prepared a rib eye in red wine sauce for a guest. It’s one of our classic dishes. Interested?”

  Red wine sauce? “No, but I like the idea of you cooking for me. It makes me want to know if you’d let me do the same for you.”

  Gabrielle’s cheeks, already borderline ruddy from the kitchen, flushed a deeper shade. “Quit.”

  “When can I get time with you?”

  “I have about another half hour maybe, but I’ll still be in my work clothes and generally unappealing. Not put-together and perfect like some.”

  Geoffrey followed her gaze to Charlene, who’d returned to her podium and was unabashedly watching them. “Gabrielle, the thing is, I’d rather be with you exactly as you are now than be with her. She’s hot, yeah, but it’s all on the surface. I don’t know her, but I get the feeling she runs through men fast.”

  “As fast as you run through women?” Gabrielle crossed her arms. “Tabloids have you paired up with a list of good-looking, clearly artificially endowed ladies. I can’t imagine how much money they must spend on special-made bras.”

  “Gabrielle, why are you finding reasons to push me away?”

  “Because,” she said quietly, “I can’t keep myself away. Damn it, when I saw you here, I got so excited. And I shouldn’t be excited to see you across a room. It’s wrong.”

  “We agreed to meet up tonight. I’m not giving that up.”

  “I told you it’d be at least another thirty minutes.”

  “I heard you the first time.”

  “You’d wait that long for a woman who reeks of food, has twine in her hair and wears a B-cup?”

  Geoffrey folded his hands over her shoulders and didn’t give a damn who was watching. “I’m waiting for you. If you come back to me still smelling of food and with twine in your hair, I don’t care.”

  Baffled, she jerked a nod then went through the kitchen’s double d
oors. As he was turning back to the bar, Charlene caught his attention. She came over, frowned at the bartender and looped her arm around Geoffrey’s.

  “I’ll get you a table.”

  “You weren’t keen on doing that when I came here,” he said.

  “A table for two tonight?” Charlene asked, ignoring his comment. “I didn’t see you come in with anyone. In fact, you seem very friendly with Gabby.”

  Keeping in mind Gabrielle’s nervousness about anyone noticing their attraction and how determined he was to seduce her the way she ought to be seduced, he said neutrally, “She and I have business. A gala for one of my clients.”

  “You’re hosting something here?” Charlene’s glittering eyes widened and without asking permission, she sat in front of him. “When?”

  “End of the month.”

  “Who’s the client?”

  “Phenom Jones.”

  “Oooohhhh!” Charlene squealed, and when folks around the room glanced at them, she laid her hand on his and smiled broadly. “Love him. Gabby hasn’t brought me up to speed on your party, but I’m sure she will. We work closely together on functions like this. It’s always a good idea to have a seasoned, polished hostess to greet your guests. I’ll do my part to make sure the night is a success.”

  He began to move his hand, but she held him in a secure grip now.

  “Oh, what stunning cuff links.” She had both of his hands now and was rubbing her fingers over his wrists. “The music industry is rewarding, isn’t it? I sing, you know. I had a YouTube channel but the Belleza asked me to close it because I violated some fine print in their employee agreement. But my friends and I hit up this club in Hollywood twice a month and sing karaoke. It’s a regular thing and the club pays us now.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “If you’d called me, I would’ve told you.”

  “Charlene, I need you to take your hands off me.” When she did without protest, he said, “What you want from me, you’re not going to get. I get that it’s tough as hell to make it in California and in entertainment. I swear to you, I get it. But I can’t work with a woman who thinks she can flirt her way to stardom. It takes hard work and sometimes it’s years before you see a tangible payoff.”