Gigi made me feel light. I didn’t know how to explain it. I’d never been good with words, but it was like she lifted something off of my chest and I breathed so free around her. Maybe it was because she had no idea about the shit I’d seen in my life. She probably couldn’t even imagine it. And the way she looked at me, so radiant and full of hope, it was like suddenly I could start to see the sunshine, too.
Maybe things could be better. Maybe I could make a fresh start, not just escape all the violence and pass the time with these bouncer and security jobs but find something I liked doing and do it well. I’d always wanted to be a firefighter. I’d never even mentioned it to anyone. It was the kind of job the guys I’d grown up with would make fun of. Who’d want to get paid peanuts to drive around town rescuing cats and carting old people off to the ER?
I did, that’s who. I knew how to defuse dangerous situations. I’d been surrounded by them my whole life. I could lift and haul and run and rescue all at the same time if I needed to do it. And who knew, maybe I could even help a few people out? It would never undo all the shit I’d already done, all the drug deals and gun sales and straight-out murders I’d aided and abetted through my association. It didn’t matter that most of it had happened when I was still a minor. I’d done it. I’d watched evil, vile shit go down and then helped the bad guys get away.
But maybe it wasn’t too late to become one of the good guys? It happened in movies. With Gigi, I felt like anything was possible.
I let a few more people into the club, turned a couple of fall-down drunk guys away. Then my phone sounded again.
* * *
Gigi: How’s my favorite bouncer? Seen any really bad fake IDs tonight?
* * *
Dom: None as bad as yours.
* * *
Gigi: I turn 19 next week, thank you very much.
* * *
Dom: 19 isn’t 21. Next time I’m going to have to turn you away.
* * *
My phone went silent for a while, enough to make me wonder. Sometimes you could misread the tone in a text. There wasn’t any way she’d thought I was serious? But then she got back to me.
* * *
Gigi: Sorry, I just got a weird text.
* * *
Dom: From who?
* * *
Gigi: Brock.
* * *
My blood pumped quick with rage.
* * *
Dom: Block that fucker. What did he say?
* * *
It took her another couple of minutes before she responded.
* * *
Gigi: Doesn’t matter. He’s blocked now.
* * *
That did it. I was going to start keeping more of an eye on that dipshit. People kept giving that crazy fucker a pass because his father owned half of New York. The fights he’d started at the country club alone would have gotten him banned for life any other place. But his father was on the board, so all he got was a gentle slap on the wrist. Not any more. I’d make sure Brock was kept on a short leash, especially around Gigi. I really didn’t like the thought of her all alone in that big house. Guess I’d have to be stopping by to check on her more often. I liked the sound of that.
* * *
§
* * *
The next night I had to work and she had some party she had to attend, but I called her as I was heading out even though it was late.
“Did I wake you up?” I asked. Her voice sounded all warm and husky and I could picture her stretched out on her bed.
“No. I was just lying here, thinking about you.”
I liked how this conversation was starting. “Is that right? Are you there all by yourself?”
“No, my brother Colt showed up this afternoon. He’s here for the next couple days.”
Had I not liked the idea of her being left alone? I now wanted to revise that thought. I wanted her alone so I could join her. Cock-blocked by her brother, that sucked. But we still had the phone.
As I drove home, she told me about her night. She had some friend who was far gone over a guy. The guy liked her around but never wanted to get serious. I’d seen that a whole lot of times and it never seemed to go so well for the girl.
“Tell her to move on,” I advised, pulling into my apartment and climbing up the stairs. “Find some guy who likes her back.”
“I know!” she agreed. “I’ve told her a million times. But she’s stuck on him.”
I guessed I knew how that felt. You could tell yourself that something didn’t make sense, but if you were stuck on someone logic didn’t mean squat.
I walked into my bedroom, closed the door and it seemed to me there was only one place this conversation was going to go.
“Are you working on what I told you?” I asked, sitting and resting back against the headboard of my bed.
She laughed with that light sparkle, but I could also hear an edge of nervousness. I knew I was a bad guy for a lot of reasons, but one of them was how much that nervousness turned me on. I liked surprising her, pushing her boundaries, making her wonder what was coming next. She had so much to learn.
“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” she admitted, quiet.
I licked my lips, picturing her there on her bed. “That’s why you need to practice,” I instructed her, unbuttoning my jeans. “Now, I want you to do something. I want you to slip a finger down to your pretty pussy. Can you do that for me, Gigi?”
I could hear the hitch in her breathing at my dirty words. She liked it when I talked to her that way, even as it shocked her.
“Yes,” she said softly. I heard some rustling, maybe her kicking out of her sheets so she could gain access.
“Now think about what I did to you at the beach. Do you remember?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded lower, and I could picture her heavy-lidded, her hand down between her thighs. I unzipped my fly and eased my jeans down my hips. My cock strained at my briefs and I palmed it through the cotton, feeling the urgency in me build.
“Are you thinking about what I did to you?” I asked, sliding my hand down, skin against skin, imagining it was her hand doing it. She’d be tentative but so eager.
“Yes,” she sighed.
“Are you touching yourself, Gigi?” I demanded.
“Yes,” she confessed.
“Good. Slide your finger in and out. In and out. Are you doing that?” I worked my cock up and down as I talked to her, picturing sliding into her heaven, so slick, so tight and hot.
“Mmmm.” Her soft moan gave me my answer. She was following my instructions.
“You’re a good student, Gigi. I can tell,” I praised her. I could hear her breathing through the phone, her little pants as she worked herself. “You want to please your teacher, don’t you?” I asked her.
“Yes,” she moaned. I could tell she liked admitting it to me. Oh, the things I could get her to need and want. She had no idea what a good girl she could be for me.
“Now tell me what you want, Gigi,” I commanded her, feeling some precome at my tip. I spread it at the crown, remembering her sweet slickness from the beach, the taste of her like nectar.
She moaned and I could hear her swallow. “I want…” I knew this was the first time she’d done this and she was probably struggling with it, maybe feeling self-conscious or embarrassed. That wouldn’t work.
“You need to tell me Gigi,” I ordered her, stern.
“I want you to make me come again!” she cried out. I could picture her twisting on her sheets, biting her lip, her shirt lifted to expose the perfect globes of her breasts.
“Yes, that’s good Gigi,” I soothed her, but then I got stern again. “Now take your fingers off your pussy.”
I could hear her gasp on the other side of the phone. There was silence, then a quiet, frustrated whimper. “Have you done what I asked?”
“Yes,” she agreed, “But—”
“The next time you do that, you’re going to show me. And you’re go
ing to come for me, Gigi. Will you like that?”
She sighed into the phone. “Yes, Dom.” She nearly purred at the thought of doing what I said.
Now I just had to make sure I saw her again soon or we’d both explode.
* * *
§
* * *
Two nights later I was working a party at the country club. Same drill as usual, same dressed-up swells, same patrol around the perimeter. The only difference was tonight I was going to make Gigi come for me on her own pretty little fingers.
She showed up around nine wearing a dress molded to her every curve. She usually shimmered in drapey, classic shifts but tonight there was no other word to describe her dress than hot. It started low, ended high, and clung to every inch in between. Add some stacked heels, higher than she usually wore, and I nearly left my post at the door and dragged her around the back of the club before she even made it into the party. Instead, I headed inside, knowing it was too hard to show restraint when I was near her. I was too hard. I had to wait for the right time.
As the night wore on we eyed each other, me from the shadows, her from across the crowded room. All the barriers between us just felt like foreplay. I could read her arousal in her eyes, in the way she’d look at me with parted lips, how her hand would drift over her shoulder as she gazed at me, caressing herself the way she wanted me to. When the time is right, I told her in my look.
Around midnight much of the crowd had disbursed, the older set heading home, the younger set heading out to other parties. Gigi remained, talking with a woman around her age. But she looked up as I walked across the room to the exit.
The lobby was empty save a couple wrapped up in themselves. No one saw me slip into one of the booths reserved for private phone calls. Except Gigi. She joined me a minute later. I locked the door, slid down the widow shade and pushed her up against the wall hard, probably rougher than I should have but I couldn’t hold back. I tore into her, kissing her with my tongue, my teeth, my lips, searing her skin, marking her, pulling at her hair. She clawed at me with the same ravenous abandon, pulling at my shirt like she wanted to tear it off my body, palming the length of my hard cock straining against the zipper of my pants.
But that wasn’t what tonight was about. I captured her hands in mine and pinned them over her head. My body pressed against hers as I ground into her, her dress inching up. I broke away from a kiss. Panting, she looked up at me, eager, wild.
“It’s time to show me what you’ve learned, princess.”
“Someone could hear us!” She looked half scared, half turned-on by the risk.
“Then you’ll have to be quiet when you come for me, won’t you?”
She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, as if even the thought of restraint made her wet. Wait until she felt real restraints.
“Now take off your panties,” I commanded, freeing her hands. Shaking, she complied, pushing her dress up and her lacy panties off. “Put your foot here.” I pointed to the seat.
Tentative, she brought her foot jacked up in her high heel onto the ledge. I caressed her ankle, her calf. That position would spread her thighs nicely and give me a good view, but her dress was still a little too low.
“Hike it up.” I nodded toward her dress. Shaking, she brought her hands to her waist and pulled, bunching it up and exposing herself completely to me in the light of the booth. Slick, wet and swollen already. My Gigi, so innocent and so fucking horny.
“Now show me what you’ve learned.” My voice sounded dark and menacing, the beast within me taking over. “Spread your legs wide and show me everything.”
She stifled a moan, and I could see her nipples so hard they pressed against the fabric of her dress. Another time I would play with them, but right now I directed every ounce of my attention to the slow path her fingers were making down, down to her wet and needy pussy.
She sighed as she first touched herself, unsure and slow, looking at me to see if that was how she should do it. Was she doing it right?
“Give yourself pleasure, Gigi.” I stroked her with my voice and kneeled down before her, my face right up close so I wouldn’t miss a thing. “Fuck yourself, baby. I want to watch you do it.”
She groaned, biting her lower lip as my words set her loose. Pushing into herself, she slipped one, then two fingers, working into a rhythm, pumping into her gorgeous pussy. My lips parted, hands into fists at my side as I watched, barely able to restrain myself from joining her. I wanted to lick, I wanted to taste and bite and fuck but even more than that I wanted to see her lost to her own pleasure.
“What are you thinking about,” I grit out as she used her palm to press against her clit. She was getting so wet I could see a trail of her juice starting down her thigh.
“You,” she whispered, spreading even wider for me to see everything. And I hadn’t even had to ask her to do it.
“Tell me.” I moved closer, so close I could hear her slick fingers working her pussy. I breathed deep, inhaling the scent of her arousal, the musky need.
“I’m imagining you’re inside me,” she whispered, her pace growing faster. “I want it so bad.”
“What do you want inside you?” I moved closer, inches away.
She moaned, as if it were hard for her to say it. “Your cock,” she whispered, and I could see how wet she got when I made her talk dirty, admit exactly what she needed. “I want your cock inside me.”
“I want to fuck you, Gigi,” I growled.
“Yes, yes,” she gasped and she jammed her fingers up inside of her, punishing her clit with the knuckle of her thumb. Her thighs quivered, her stomach contracted and she slammed her head back against the wall. Knowing she was about to let out a scream, I rose and took her mouth in mine, swallowing her cries as an orgasm took over her. Greedy, I moved my hand by hers, wanting to feel it, needing at least my fingers to be touching her slick, sensitive flesh. She twisted into me, pushing her pussy into my palm. So tense, clenching and shuddering under my fingers, she moaned into my mouth. Her knees buckled with the force of her coming and I swept my arm around her lower back, supporting her weight, holding her against me.
“Gigi,” I murmured, kissing her. “Gigi.” I gathered her in my arms, sat on the ledge and settled her onto my lap. Kissing her neck, her lips, her hair, I showed her how much she meant to me.
“I don’t know what you do to me,” she murmured, sounding dazed. She rested her head against my chest, nuzzling into my throat.
“I’m pretty sure you did that to yourself.” The satisfied smile spreading across her face made me smile as well. I smoothed back her hair and kissed her forehead. “You look proud of yourself.”
She looked up at me and nodded. “I gave myself a damn good orgasm.”
“I will never forget that.” There I went again, bringing up the brief and finite nature of our time together. Why was I the one getting maudlin, remembering it would all end? I’d never been that guy before.
“I’ll have to do it again for you sometime soon.” She had a gloriously mischievous sparkle in her eye.
“Yes you will,” I agreed. “But first we should think about making our separate exits. I don’t want you to get caught in here with me.”
“Oh shit.” She seemed to remember we were in a semi-public place with a hell of a lot of people she knew roaming around outside. I helped her reassemble herself as much as possible. She could put on the panties and pull down the dress, but there was no wiping off that post-orgasmic glow. But I was a selfish man. I wanted that look on her all the time.
Hand on the door, she turned and whispered, “Day after tomorrow’s my birthday.”
“I know.” I hadn’t forgotten.
“Will I see you?”
Could she doubt that? Didn’t she know how far gone over her I was? “You’ll see me,” I assured her, gathering her in my arms for one last kiss.
Then she slipped out, unnoticed. I left soon after, also undetected. It had only been a few minutes since she�
�d left my arms. Already every thought was consumed with when I could get her there again.
7
Gigi
The day I turned 19 I spent time with my friends at the beach, Penny and Zander and Trevor and the rest of the gang. Two months ago they’d been my world. Now I felt like I was watching a silly movie, like some Hollywood director’s version of rich kids partying. Half of them were on Instagram, filling their feed with glamour pics, hoping to build a following like Kylie Jenner. Somehow meeting Dom had shaken up my whole world like a snow globe. Outwardly, I think I still seemed the same. Penny asked me once or twice if I was all right, I seemed spacey, but she seemed reassured at my “Yeah, I’m fine.”
That night, Colt and my father threw me a birthday party at the club. They rented out a room and we toasted with champagne and friends. I felt grateful for all of it, I swear I did. But I also felt frustrated as hell.
I hated that Dom couldn’t be part of it. I thought he could. I wanted him at the beach with us and at the party at the club even though he had to work. But it was more than the obligations he had to the guys at the auto shop or his shift at the 2am Club that kept him away. He held himself back, exercising monk-like restraint, constantly reminding me of what couldn’t happen between us, how it would end soon.
I disagreed. At first, people would talk if they found out we were a couple, but then in time I was sure it wouldn’t be a big deal. Crazier things had happened, women not just sleeping with the pool boy but taking off with them and leaving their husbands and children. Stealing, lying, addictions, Dom might think that kind of thing only happened in his world but it happened all the time among the rich and bored. So what that an heiress like me dated a working guy like him. Life would go on.
Undeniable: Dom & Gigi Page 8
