by Penny Henry
"Keep it glitzy but make it simple with easy-to-follow links. Don't let the tech guys take over. Don’t complicate it. Make sure that your webmaster does what you want it to do and not what he thinks is clever. You know what these geeks are like.”
Imogen suppressed a smile. Gable was sounding like a fully paid-up geek himself. She wondered what his opinion would be of his studious brother. The thought inspired a twinge of guilt of the way she had spoken of Roger in the past and she made a silent promise never to refer to Roger as a geek again. She started to mull over their ideas. She already had the perfect person to provide the hottest gossip on the web. Connie was made for it. She could even visualize the promotional campaign in the music press. The outlay would swiftly be recouped from music sales and merchandising. The ideas were hot and Imogen knew she had a winner on her hands.
"Time to call it a day I think, Gable, What do you say? Your coffee is over here."
Gable got up from his chair and returned it to its proper place. “Yep, "I couldn't agree more." He looked down at Imogen as she sank back into the sofa. "I don't know where you get your energy from, Imogen. A hard day at work and you’re still coming up with great ideas. I don’t know what you get up to in your office but it’s certainly put a glow in your cheeks.”
Oh, if only you knew, Gable, thought Imogen wickedly, I wouldn’t see you for dust. “I love my work,” she said simply. She stretched her arms above her head and lazily turned her eyes on Gable as he seated himself in the middle of the sofa. "I hope you haven't been too bored."
Gable turned his head to trace her voice to her mouth and linger on her parted lips. "I could never be bored in your company, Imogen." He raised his eyes to scan her face. The data exchanged between the blue and brown irises was faster and more complex than the images that had been flashing on the flickering screen. This time it was Gable that found the excuse.
"The wine," he croaked. He pulled his eyes from Imogen's look and pushed himself up.
"It’s in the kitchen. I’ll order the Pizza," she added in a whisper.
The moment had passed them by. Imogen found her mobile phone and pressed in the numbers. The pizzas would be with them in twenty minutes. Gable returned with the bottle. He had opened it and set it on a table mat. He hadn’t remembered the glasses. Imogen tutted and heaved herself up. She paused to put on some music before heading to the kitchen to top up the coffee for later. She returned in ten minutes with two glasses. She had taken the opportunity to freshen up and dab on a hint of perfume. Gable smiled appreciatively. He leant back in a corner and spread himself on the sofa. Imogen took the other end and sat cross-legged on the cushion. They were content to look into each other’s faces and make small talk until the intercom heralded the arrival of the pizza.
Chapter Seven
Imogen answered the door to a slim female wearing motorcycle leathers. They had struck up a casual friendship in the time that Imogen had been using the pizza company. They chatted at the door for a couple of minutes. She was a French student working her way through university and Imogen admired her determination. She was a pretty young thing with bright eyes that couldn’t stay still. She was constantly flicking her eyes into Imogen’s apartment as she spoke in an entertaining broken accent. “Au revoir,” she called as she skipped away with a hefty tip in her pocket. Imogen decided they should eat from the boxes and they sat without speaking as they ate their pizzas and drank the red wine. Nothing but music and the sound of eating filled the room as they satisfied a hunger they hadn’t known existed until a first bite of the crusty pizza. Then they sank back in the soft upholstery, their appetites gone and at peace with the world.
"I reckon we earned that," said Imogen. She sat for another minute or two before pushing herself up and lifting to her feet. "Coffee?"
“No thank you, Imogen, I'm stuffed." He shook his head in amusement. "I don't know where you put it. There's nothing of you."
"Some of us have to work for a living. This is usually my main meal of the day."
Gable tutted in disapproval. "I can see you need to be taken in hand."
"Are you offering?"
Gable grinned. "What do you think?"
It was Imogen's turn to grin. She picked up the empty wine bottle before collecting the cartons and glasses to take to the kitchen. "I'll switch off the coffee."
By the time she returned Gable had spread himself on the sofa with his legs stretched out in front of him. Imogen sank onto the opposite end with her legs tucked under her rear. She rested an elbow on the backrest and stretched her hand towards Gable’s outflung arm. "That’s what I call a productive evening,” she said. “I’ve got a lot of good stuff for tomorrow. What do you think, Gable?" She let her fingers stray to the back of his hand and traced circles on the warm flesh.
Gable's hand stiffened slightly but he didn't pull away. He cleared his throat. “Yep, it was a good night's work." His voice had dropped an octave.
He rolled his head towards her and the electricity from their eyes was irresistible. He lifted his hand from the back of the sofa to stroke her cheek before sliding closer and stretching his fingers to fold round the nape of her neck. He guided her head to meet her lips as she leant towards him. It did not begin as the full bloodied, tongue-tangling kiss that Imogen might have wished for but his mouth was warm and welcoming. She sank against his chest as his arms drew her nearer and his mouth relentlessly crushed upon hers. The kiss deepened and Imogen felt her chest collapsing as he drew the air from her lungs and took away her breath. Her head was swimming. Her strength had deserted her. She lolled like a rag doll in his powerful embrace. She had never felt so overwhelmed with the tenderness that grew from the endless kiss. When their mouths broke apart they held each other, sucking great scoops of air into their oxygen-starved bodies. Imogen nestled into his chest and covered his face with kisses. Gable's hands roamed across her back and she ached for his touch to grow bolder. She unbuttoned his shirt and kissed his neck. Gable’s head rocked backwards in groaning pleasure. His strong fingers kneaded her back muscles, driving her desire upwards. Imogen's blood boiled through her veins and her flesh screamed out to be touched. She pressed her breasts against his chest and tangled her hands in his hair, bringing his mouth to her throat. The whisper of his lips against her skin sent waves of longing coursing through her spine. She willed him to explore her body but Gable’s hands stayed fixed on her writhing back. He was sending her insane with frustration. She knew she would have to take the initiative. She followed her instincts, scrambling from his lap before straddled his legs, kneeling either side of his hips and sinking her bottom onto his thighs. She locked her hands behind his neck as his head tilted to accept the hungry kiss that Imogen pressed to his lips.
Gable responded to the rush of passion that had descended upon them and snaked his hands under Imogen's top. His hands roamed across her back with an urgency that pulled her hard against his chest. Imogen pulled her arms from behind his neck and pushed them down between their bodies, hurrying to undo the remaining buttons on his shirt. She forced the material over his shoulders to bare his chest as he nuzzled into her neck. Imogen was burning up. She tore the shirt material from his waistband, levering his arms up one at a time. Gable responded by sliding up his hands and fumbling with her bra strap. He wasn’t having much success. She should never have worn a bra. She sat up to whip off her top and release the simple catch before shrugging the thin cotton bra from her shoulders.
His jaw dropped at his first sight of Imogen's magnificent bosom. She couldn’t help grinning at the effect her boobs were having on the suave male model. It was time to tease him. She cupped her breasts before lifting them against each other and gliding her fingertips across the aching flesh. Gable's eyes were like saucers. His stare stayed fixed on her erotic display as her slim fingers lightly pinched and pulled her brown nipples to erect posts. She threw back her head in abandonment. A wriggle of her bottom confirmed that her rush of excitement was more than equaled by the mas
sive erection she felt below her thighs. She rotated her hips against the solid flesh. She was hot and wet. She grabbed the back of the couch to raise her body and push her breasts to his face. Gable was captivated. His fingers pressed into the Imogen's back as he buried his face in the perfumed flesh. His hot mouth swept across her sensitive skin, his tongue tracing tiny unending circles as he found first one long nipple and then the other, clamping the distended rolls of flesh between his lips and forcing low moans from Imogen's throat. She leant back her head in pure enjoyment of his undivided attention to her breasts. Then she pushed him away, bending her mouth to his chest, dragging her tongue over the smooth skin, slipping backwards on his thighs as she sucked his nipples to hard buds. Her mouth slipped lower. She dropped to her knees between his legs to continue her exploration. The buckle to Gable's belt offered little resistance but the zip was made of sterner stuff. Gable lay back, breathing deeply, his eyes tightly shut with a small half-smile playing on his lips. The zip was proving difficult. The swelling in Gable's jeans was preventing her from liberating his huge erection and he wasn’t helping. Imogen wasn’t about to be denied the promise of the thick weapon in Gable’s jeans. She slid one hand under him to coax up his hips and the other to drag the zipper over the head of the large obstruction. It took Imogen's two eager hands to free the rock-hard pole from the folds of the heavy material. She folded her fingers round the quivering flesh, tilting it towards her face before lowering her mouth and flicking out her tongue. She raised her eyes to enjoy the expression of the beautiful man as she stretched her mouth to close over him. This time Gable was relaxed and peaceful. Her lips slipped over the crown and she slid down the warm shaft before pulling up her head and repeating the pleasurable task, taking him further into her mouth each time.
“Imogen,” he whispered. “Maybe I should do something for you before I explode.”
She was at the tip of his erection and left him with a sucking pull. She shook her head. “Later,” she murmured. “I want to taste you in my mouth.” She batted her eyelids. “I’m enjoying pleasing you.”
She bent her head back to the pulsing flesh and cupped his sack, squeezing him gently as the dips of her head grew longer and faster. She moved her hand to pump the base of the shaft as she took him deep into her throat. He grunted and pushed into her mouth, lifting his hips and knotting his arms and legs. Imogen swallowed hard. The spurts were violent and unceasing as he released his captured seed. She was struggling to cope with Gable’s sticky and tangy ejaculation. It was if he had been denied a satisfying release for a while. She licked around the head as he slumped back on the couch. Then she raised her head with a smile on her lips. “My turn―” She saw a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye. "Get out!" she screamed.
She scrambled to her feet screaming obscenities. Gable's eyes flashed open. He saw Imogen on her feet. She was staring wildly at the doorway. He twisted his head to catch a glimpse of a hunched figure disappearing into the hallway before slamming the door behind him. Gable leapt to his feet, struggling to buckle his belt as he ran towards the door.
"Gable, no! Wait! He might have a knife or something." Her top was pulled halfway over her head and she was desperate to prevent Gable doing anything foolish. Whoever it was had been halfway inside the apartment before seeing them on the sofa.
Gable barely paused. He was a bare-chested avenging fury, his hard, blue eyes blazing retribution. "He'll fucking eat it if he has." He wrenched back the door and burst into the corridor.
Imogen dashed behind him, just stopping herself from running into his back as he halted outside the door. He was scenting the direction the intruder had taken - like a wild beast sniffing the breeze. His body was tensed and pumped up with adrenaline. The corridor was empty and the elevator indicator was at car park level. Only their heavy breathing broke the silence.
Gable switched his stare to the fire door along the passage. "He must have taken the stairs." He took one step in that direction before Imogen grabbed his arm.
"Wait, Gable, please. Let the police deal with it. Please, Gable."
"Go back inside, Imogen. Lock the door and call the police." His tone would brook no argument. "I'll be careful." Then he ran to the door of the fire stairs, throwing it open before his running steps marked his rapid descent. There was no point in running upwards. There was only Roger’s apartment above hers.
She stood for a moment with her eyes fixed on the fire door, listening to the muffled chase before walking dispiritedly back inside and pulling the door. Damn it. It didn’t look like she would be getting any tonight. She made the call to the police and spent the next twenty minutes pacing the floor until a sharp knock and the sound of Gable calling her name sent her racing to the door.
"Gable!" She jerked the door open and flung herself into his arms. "Are you okay? Did you catch him? Did you see anything? Promise me you won't do anything like that again." Her eyes were glassy and tearful as she fought to control her emotions. "I was so worried about you."
He cradled her to his chest and stroked her hair as he spoke. "I'm fine, Imogen. You can stop worrying. I didn't manage to catch up with him. It was like he vanished into thin air - or he knows the building very well. He won’t be back tonight." There was an air of certainty about his tone.
Imogen pushed herself to arm's length and looked him up and down as if to reassure herself that he had returned safe and sound to her arms. She managed a smile in a show of bravado. "I’m so happy you’re safe. I mean, I've only just found you. It would be a bit of a shame to lose you so soon," she couldn’t resist a slight teasing of his heroics. "But maybe it’s just as well you didn't catch up with him." She smiled innocently up at his handsome face.
"And why is that?" He cocked an eyebrow. His ego was rising to the implied slur on his physical prowess. "Don't you think I could have handled him?"
"Oh, it's not that. I’m sure you would have been fine. It's just that he might not have been sure of what you were intending to do with him."
"I don’t understand."
Without breaking her gaze, Imogen dropped her arm and slipped her hand inside Gable's open zip. She cupped him gently in her hand. "It could have been very interesting."
Gable blushed scarlet. His hands flew to his zip. Imogen withdrew her fingers from his tender region before Gable trapped the wayward digits inside his jeans. They looked at each other and burst out laughing. They wrapped their arms around each other and squeezed into Imogen's apartment. They were happy to be able to relieve the tension in laughter with each other. Gable barely had time to put on his shirt when the intercom buzzed to warn of the police arriving.
The police response had been good for that part of London. Uniformed officers were searching the neighborhood. They were aware of the spate of burglaries in the locality and were anxious to stem the complaints from the wealthy and influential residents of the luxury blocks. The next thirty minutes were spent in the company of twenty-something WPC Jill Cartwright. They covered every detail twice in between the WPC’s covert glances at Imogen's companion. Her even younger colleague wore a circle in the carpet talking through his radio to the officers on the ground. There had been no suspicious sightings in the area. The ground search was proving fruitless. The police were frustrated that a sneak-thief that apparently had access to details of the prestigious properties and their occupants was giving them the run-a-round. They were unsurprised that Imogen would not usually be at home tonight. The intruder, no doubt, had been as shocked as Imogen by the sudden confrontation. They would maintain a close watch on the area and continue with their enquiries. There was little else they could offer. Maybe she should lock her apartment from the inside whenever she was at home. They left with an air of apology and another lengthy report to file. The attractive WPC was the last one to file through the door, holding onto Gable's handshake and ignoring the darts from Imogen's eyes. Gable had mostly kept quiet when talk had turned to the security of the luxury apartments. Imogen guessed he had felt
guilty that the penthouse was already fitted with the high-tech locks that were promised to the building's tenants. She made a mental note to call Don Thornton in the morning. She would insist a new lock be fitted to her apartment immediately. He was due to find out exactly what the expression hit by a ton of bricks actually meant
Imogen and Gable were left with a sense of anti-climax. Time had moved on and Imogen was more than a little irritated to see Gable checking his watch. She could do with some support. A cuddle wouldn't go amiss. It wasn't all about sex. A wave of irrational anger swept through her body.
"By the look of things I’ve had about all the excitement I’m going to get tonight." She immediately regretted her words.
Gable's features tightened. "I'm sorry, Imogen. I forgot it’s all about you. I'll wear a mask and carry a swag bag next time, shall I?"
Imogen drew a grimace. I apologize, Gable. I shouldn't be taking it out on you. I've got a big mouth.” She sighed and dropped her shoulders. “I know it wasn't your fault we got interrupted.” She tried a smile and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. His dour expression never changed. She tried another tack. "I think I’m just a little frustrated. All this excitement has kinda got me going."
Gable looked at her unsympathetically. "You don’t have to explain, Imogen. You like a bit of excitement. I’ve got the message. Next time I’ll try harder."
Imogen's heart sank. She hadn’t meant to upset him. He was over-reacting. She gave it a final shot. "There’s no rush, is there? Why don't you stay a bit longer? I think I could make it worth your while." She didn't want to leave it like this again. She dropped her hand to the front of his trousers and squeezed him gently. It was another reminder of why she’d prefer him to stay.
Gable seemed to be immune to her advances. "I don’t know, I think I should be going."
