Hot Summer Nights

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Hot Summer Nights Page 15

by Lisa Marie Perry


  “Where’d that come from?”

  “That’s the newest development. Management’s concerned that an insider is behind the strange occurrences. Um, this isn’t making the Belleza less appealing for Phenom Jones’s party, is it?”

  “G&G Records has a way of surviving trials like that. It’s going to survive underhanded bastards trying to steal our talent, too.”

  “I’m sorry that’s happening.”

  “It’s part of the business. Not a part I like, but…” He rolled his shoulders. “Now, to talk about something I do like. You can handle anything. You amaze me.”

  “Keep talking. I’ve got time.”

  “If I stopped talking, would you stay here? Because I’m thinking about doing something and you might shut me down.”

  “Or I might not.” She probably should leave, weigh her options, factor in her skyrocketing horniness, maybe do something productive such as work while she thought this over. But, he was so mouth-watering in those pants. And besides, why not share a little appetizer of what she was capable of? “You didn’t get to make an empire of G&G by shying away from risks. Take the risk now. Am I worth it to you?”

  “Hell, yes.” And he had her mouth.

  He didn’t linger there, though. Quickly, he tasted her throat, filled his hands with her breasts, demanded that she not hold back what she felt. If she didn’t like something, he wanted to know. If she did like something, he needed to know.

  When his hand brushed her breast again, she watched him as she gasped. And then he gripped the front of her sweater and ripped it open, sending the delicate pearl buttons skittering across the floor.

  “Yeah, this is one of the few sweaters I hadn’t destroyed. Before now.”

  “I can replace it for you.”

  “No, it’s cool. I’ll make a necklace with the buttons and I’m sure there’s something I can do to jazz up the fabric. Maybe shorten— Oh…my…”

  He’d bunched the bottom of her dress in his fists and was shooting it up over her head. He stared at her breasts swelling modestly over the cups of her lightning bolt–patterned bra. “Party underneath, right.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “The party’s underneath this,” he said, hooking a finger under a bra strap. He clamped it in his teeth and pulled it down.

  Arousal shot through her when he hauled her against the island. She felt his hand snake up her thigh beneath the hemline of her dress and cup her there.

  “I’ve been wanting to get back at this since that night in the car.” He tugged her panties down, let her kick them away. As he slid two fingers inside her, his mouth found the tips of her breasts. He nipped her flesh through the bra before he quit playing and impatiently unhooked the garment. It bounced off her lap and hit the floor and there was nothing interfering with his access to her bare skin.

  She cried out a zing of pleasure, kneaded his shoulders even if he didn’t need to be guided. What his fingers didn’t touch, his teeth did, and soon she was leaning weakly against the counter for support. She scooted onto a stool.

  “Let me help you out,” he said, then picked her up.

  She felt herself moisten more. Then the cool surface of the island touched her ass. “Yow! That’s cold.”

  “It won’t be after a minute.”

  “Yeah? Well, you take off your pants and sit up here and tell me how it feels.”

  “Trust me.”

  She began to scoff, but he reached behind her and knocked away the coffee and muffins. Her gasp drowned out the sound of shattering dishes when he firmly ran his hands over her breasts. He urged her to lie back, flat on the counter. He spread her thighs. “Sorry about the muffins.”

  “I can bake more,” she said, swallowing. “I just don’t want them to become props in what we’re doing here. I don’t use food for sex play.”

  “Not whipped cream?”

  “No food.”

  “Think about opening yourself to the idea of it.”

  He pushed her thighs apart wider and licked her. She arched up and let loose a scream that only seemed to encourage him to keep going. She was no longer “Sorry, I’m closed” for this guest. The invisible bear trap didn’t exist. She wasn’t an executive chef and he a big-shot music producer client. She was a naked woman and he was an almost naked man.

  She would make things fair and get him out of those pants after she finished losing wits completely at the demands of his tongue.

  His hand snaked up her abdomen to seize her breasts. As he rolled and pinched her nipples, his mouth continued to tantalize her. He slipped two fingers inside her, pulled them out and then repeated the motion and his tongue glided over her clit. He closed his lips over the sensitive bead and caressed her firmly with the very tip of his tongue.

  She sobbed restlessly on the island, her legs spread wide and her eyes squeezed shut. When she dared to open them, to watch him taste her, he lifted his eyes to hers and smiled against her flesh before the orgasm struck.

  *

  There was good sex, unbelievable sex and the kind of sex that melted a sensible man’s mind. Geoffrey didn’t have a mind to rely on now. He could lead this woman and make moves on her body, but he wasn’t in control. And he didn’t mind. He was so turned on to see her come in his mouth. Leaning over her, he trailed kisses up her rib cage, to her nipples that were borderline burgundy from his hands and teeth. Her mouth was parted and ready for his when he reached her, and he slipped his tongue inside.

  He fed her a sample of herself, let her lick into his mouth and tease his tongue to dance with hers. Their bodies were hot and sweat-dampened, and her hips were still twitching from her orgasm. He murmured into her mouth, “Want to keep at it?”

  “Damn, skippy. We are not done. You owe me some nakedness, for one thing.”

  She moaned and he knew he had to have her. Any way, every way. Now.

  The need was real and yet intangible. His cock throbbed against his zipper, pleading for her. He slapped at his pockets. Nothing. No condom!

  “You’re not going to believe this.”

  “You don’t have protection?”

  “No.”

  “So for our date you weren’t expecting sex?”

  “No. I didn’t know if you’d be ready and wasn’t going to rush you if you weren’t.”

  She sat up and hugged him. “You’re not an asshole. You’re sweet.”

  “The other word that starts with the letter A. It was asshole?”

  “Uh…yup. What’d you think it was?”

  “Adventurous. Accomplished. Articulate. Awesome. Something along those lines.”

  “You’re going to be telling me I’m awesome when I tell you that I have a condom. I do. It’s in my purse.”

  He kissed her. “You are so awesome.” He brought the purse to her and she fished out the condom and gave it to him. “Gabrielle, this has a Ferris wheel on it.”

  “Yeah, I got it at this adult-themed carnival.” She began laughing and didn’t stop until he’d whisked her up and brought her to the bedroom. She felt good in his arms, all naked and sweaty and ready for the main course. When he deposited her onto the unmade bed, she pulled him to her.

  She leisurely slid over his body, arching like a cat, and fastened her hands on his zipper. She lowered the zipper and pulled his pants over his hips, freeing him. “Ohh,” she sighed, her gaze washing over his penis and giving him the same effect as if she’d just used her mouth on him. When she bent to do just that, he hurriedly took her face in his hands.

  “If I let you do this, I won’t last long enough to get inside you.” Then he proved that by swiftly sheathing himself, spreading her thighs and thrusting inside her. She was so slick and so incredibly tight his mind went momentarily numb.

  “Are you a virgin?”

  Her head twisted from side to side and she said, “I know some people who’d laugh you out of town at that question. I redeemed my V-card years ago, but it’s been a while. So long, in fact, that my friends and colleagues
were pushing me to get out there and meet someone. Turns I didn’t have to go anywhere. You came to me.” She stroked his arm. “I’m glad you came to me.”

  He gazed at the tousled, glistening woman underneath him, loving how the morning sunlight washed over her skin. She pressed a gentle hand to the side of his face and he covered it with his.

  Their gazes locked and he watched her brown eyes widen and her lips part as her muscles stretched to adapt to him. But he knew how to lean against her and thrust slowly to give her pressure and pleasure. He held her shaking body and brought them to a slamming climax.

  *

  “Where the hiz-ell have you been?” Charlene asked when Gabrielle passed the hostess desk around noon.

  Damn!

  Busted.

  After a catnap in an erotic position with Geoffrey, Gabrielle had reluctantly dragged her worn-out and somewhat sore self into what was left of her clothes and went home to dress for work. With Jimi Hendrix in the background, she’d showered, pulled on dressy black capri pants and a frilly white blouse. She’d embroidered the words The Pearl onto it and it was one of her favorites. In a hurry to get to the restaurant at least before noontime, she’d piled her messy hair up high and rubbed on eye shadow and lipstick. But standing here under the hostess’s scrutiny, she felt swamped in self-consciousness and imagined the words just had sex branded on her forehead.

  Noticing a few curious glances of guests as Charlene followed Gabrielle into the kitchen, she said, “Is there a problem? I’m not late, if we’re being technical.”

  “There is a problem. Some dude’s been asking a lot of questions and making everyone nervous. He grilled Jonah Grady so harshly that I felt sorry for him. What do you know about this?”

  “We’re all aware there have been strange incidents around the resort lately. Management is out to protect everyone and I’m sure some questioning is necessary.”

  “Questioning would be fine if it were from the police,” Stu said. “This bloke wasn’t the police.”

  Kim’s PI. That made sense. “Did he leave any contact information with y’all?”

  The kitchen staff all murmured no and returned to their work, but the tension was thick enough to suffocate someone.

  “Where were you this morning?” Charlene pressed, eyes narrowed. Did the woman have a sex tracking device or something?

  “Not here.”

  “You should’ve been.”

  “Enough, Charlene,” one of the cooks said. “Go back to your desk and do your job, instead of making sure other people are doing theirs.”

  Huffing, the hostess fled the kitchen. Gabrielle covered her hair and washed up at the sink. “I can speak to management and find out if there’s any development, but no one here has anything to worry about.”

  “You might not,” someone grumbled. “You can sneak around with guests after hours and you still have the top job at this restaurant. Management’s looking to fire people, and you’re secure but we’re not.”

  “Our management is fair. When those reviews about bad food and all that crap fell down on us, I took the heat. Management has protocol and follows it. It wasn’t smart for me to invite a guest into this kitchen after closing, but it’s not as though he was here alone and for that matter I work in this kitchen after hours all the time. It’s not a precedent I set. It’s not that unusual.”

  Under the circumstances, she should’ve been more prudent. She hadn’t been, and now she was paying the price. The cost was her staff’s respect and trust. These individuals looked up to her even as she considered them equals. Her friendship with Kimberly Parker may not have mattered to them before, but it did now in the wake of her showing up to the restaurant after every Pearl employee but she had been “grilled.” They suspected that she’d known about the ambush and had stayed away on purpose. She hadn’t known, but how could she tell them the truth about where she’d been and what she’d been doing without making the situation that much worse?

  Sorry I wasn’t here to be questioned with the rest of you. I was getting power-tooled by one of the Belleza’s most high-profile guests—you know, Geoffrey Girard, the man I sneaked into the kitchen and made out with that night?

  “Can’t tell them that,” she whispered to herself. Of course she’d try to be more diplomatic, but that’s how it’d translate to them. It wouldn’t sound pretty or gentle or like anything they were obligated to forgive.

  She’d screwed up in a big way and was far away from making amends.

  At the same time, she thought, as she kicked into high gear and began to prepare a vegetable risotto for a multicourse meal, these were the same people who not even a month ago had been urging her to get into a relationship, or simply get laid. Now that she had, they weren’t even happy for her?

  “Is he a good guy?”

  Gabrielle looked beside her at Stu. “Why ask? Would it make a difference? The general consensus is that I’m the chef who selfishly sent her staff up the river because I’m friends with management.”

  “Petulance is unattractive on you. You know I’m not mad at you, and you’re incapable of being mad at me because I’m effing incredible, so just answer the question already. Oh, what is this, risotto?”

  “Yes, it’s risotto. I answered your question.”

  “What’d I just tell you about petulance?”

  “Chef Merritt, he’s a good guy. He can’t handle booze, but I don’t mind at all.” She noticed Stu moving his hand as if turning a wheel. “Oh, you big dirty chef. You only want to know about the sex.”

  “Was there?” he whispered, though no one was close by to hear.

  “This morning. That’s what I was doing while you all were being hassled. I feel bad about it.”

  “Bad about what? What was the quality of the sex?”

  “Top quality. My God.” She shook her head. “I feel bad that I wasn’t here with all of you. We’re in this together. That’s what it means to be a team.”

  “They’ll get over it. They’re worried about being the next victim more than they’re worried about being fired. No one wants to say they’re scared shitless. As someone who was a victim not long ago, I can tell you it makes you watch yourself more carefully.” He tugged at her collar. “You have a hickey, Chef Royce.”

  Oops. “I do?”

  “Yes.” He hugged her. “I’m so proud.”

  After finishing the risotto, Gabrielle was drawn away for office work and meetings that kept her occupied for the next few hours. She ate a light lunch and then was able to catch up with Kim.

  “Is this about wedding details?” Kim asked as they sat on a sleek bench outside one of the resort shops. In a pantsuit the color of cool metal, and her hair hanging neatly past her shoulders, she was serenity and style and unflappable power personified. “I thought we’d coordinate our schedules and make a day of it.”

  Gabrielle only wished the wedding was all they had to worry about. It was a tumultuous time to plan such an event, but why wait when love was there? “This is about a man who made rounds at the Pearl today, apparently grilling all the staff, including Jonah Grady. You know what it feels like to face that many pissed off people all expertly trained in wielding knives?”

  “Are you thinking it was the investigator I hired?”

  “Well, it wasn’t Annie the Clairvoyant.”

  Kim knit her beautifully shaped eyebrows. “He reported to me that there were no clear connections, all but insisted that this is all a string of coincidences. Maybe he found a reason to double back.”

  “Could you please get to the bottom of it, and find out why he’s not keeping you informed ahead of the game? You’re the one who hired him. He has no right to harass our staff on his own accord.”

  “But keep this straight, Gabby, I did hire him to do a job. If he has a lead and perhaps didn’t have the time to clear his next move with me, I’m not going to be upset if it reveals new information about whoever’s terrorizing this resort. I don’t want to anger our employees any
more than you do, but the fact still remains that something strange is happening and it’s becoming increasingly more dangerous for not only the staff, but the guests. It’s criminal activity. Are we agreed on that?”

  “Certainly. There should be a better way, though.”

  “I’m sorry.” She sat back against the bench. “Love is never easy.”

  “What, your road to romance with Jaxon?”

  “Mmm, that and my love for the Belleza. I have a position that my brother thinks I stole out from under him. That didn’t stop me from fighting like raging hell to catapult this place to the sort of success it never had before. The problems we faced last month and what’s happening now—it’s not going to break me. Am I alone in that belief?”

  Gabrielle had always admired Kim’s strength and wisdom. “You’re not alone because you rubbed off on me. A big reason why I had the fortitude to strike out on my own after graduation is because I wanted to be more like you. So unafraid and tough.”

  “Say what? You’re unafraid. Last Halloween you toured that old vacant asylum and Robyn and I thought you were crazy. You do things like that all the time. You have a lust for life and good food and you do the weirdest shit to your clothes.”

  “Aw, you say the sweetest things, Kim.” She took a deep breath and sat back, too. “About how I was when you were first interested in Jaxon. I’m sorry.”

  “You apologized for that.”

  “That was before I fully understood. I understand now. Love is far from easy and I made it worse by not supporting you. I get it now, Kim. I know what it means to be made to feel ashamed of something as miraculous as love.”

  “You’re vouching for miracles, Gabby?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve always believed in miracles. When I was in Spain I witnessed a woman give birth. I definitely believe in miracles. But I don’t believe in the curse of the Belleza. And there were times when I didn’t believe in love.”

  “And now?”

  At first, all Gabrielle could do was nod. “Good grief, do I believe in love now.”

  When Gabrielle returned to the Pearl, there was a letter of resignation waiting on the hostess desk.

 

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