Trusting Gibson (Last Score Book 2)

by K. L. Shandwick

  Grinning widely Chloe pulled me close but with a hand on my pecs. Tapping them she gave me those big stunning eyes and breathed life into my dick. “Well…I thought you were an asshole then Gibson and I just know that Chris isn’t.”

  “And now?”

  Smirking wickedly she fought the grin that was trying to stretch her lips. “Oh, I was right, Chris is definitely not an asshole.”

  Picking her up off the floor I ran her against the wall, pressing my body flush against hers. My action excited her and I could feel the tremor in her body as I lay against it.

  “Well, I’m glad you lowered the tone of things around here because I’m taking you home and I’m gonna get inside you, just like I promised you downstairs. And you can give me your honest opinion on whether or not I’m still an asshole after that. How does that sound?”

  “Gibson I like you’re thinking, but you’re gonna have to work hard to impress me.”

  Smirking as I lowered her to the floor down my front and over my dick, I smiled seductively and held her glittering, playful eyes in an intensive stare. “Chloe…feel me? Working hard already, darlin’.” The joy in my heart at doing something so normal to me, like asking a mate for a favor, had given Chloe an experience of a lifetime, and I felt that it was the first care free night Chloe had, had in a long time.

  As we headed home, Chloe leaned in to my ear in the car and whispered, Chris is a lovely man Gibson thank you for tonight. I love you so much…you know that dinner with you would have been enough, right? Watching Chloe’s honest face, I knew that it would have been.

  CHAPTER 38 - A MAN WITH A PLAN

  Chloe

  Arranging such an awesome date had seemed effortless to Gibson. The simple food and the ambiance of the restaurant were romantic. But most of all, everything felt normal. Like Gibson and I were doing something that was available to most young couples in love. Obviously what happened at the end of the date was far from normal…that was a memory that fantasies were made of. Then again…so was how Gibson and I ended up together.

  After we got home there was nothing playful about how Gibson worshiped my body or me his. I was much less self-conscious about how he talked dirty to me when were intimate now. In fact I found the way his voice changes to that sexy, growly, husky one when he’s in the heat of the moment, one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced outside of the sex itself.

  Gibson stretched lazily when I stirred that morning, then curled towards me from behind, pulling me against his hard body and landing a kiss on my shoulder. “Morning, darlin’, come over here. I still love you this morning even after you kept me up half the night.”

  I opened my eyes slowly with a contented sleepy smile on my lips, as Gibson’s spikey chin stubble grazed across my shoulder until his mouth nuzzled into my neck. When his lips made contact, it was like a signal to my body, waking it up instantly with all the nerve end receptors flying into action. My nipples stiffened as goose bumps erupted and my core was soon soaked from the tight clenching of it, with each little new nuzzle he delivered on my neck.

  “Am I turning you on, Chloe? You want my dick sliding deep in here?” Gibson’s hand had moved between my legs and had begun to stroke the length of my seam. When I didn’t reply he spoke again. “Well darlin’, I got places to go and people to meet today so you’re gonna have to make your mind up real quick. In case you forgot you asked me to marry you last night, and weddings take some organizing when you’re a hot-shot rock star like me.” Gibson said, playfully.

  Starting to giggle I turned to look at him, delighted that Gibson was sliding back into the moment after last night. “Oh, they do? Seriously? I mean you got me a passport in a couple of hours. Planning a wedding to someone like you, should be ridiculously simple.”

  Gibson smirked knowingly but then his mouth stretched into a sexy pant melting smile as he stared lovingly into my eyes, “Well as you asked me…I need to ask you...this wedding… it’s whatever I want right? I mean you said that to me twice last night. I know I used one of them up dancing, but I’ve still got one in the bank right?”

  Smiling affectionately at him as I stared back at Gibson’s amused, sparkly eyes, they dropped to my mouth and he licked his lips. Watching him and the way he was looking at me made my heart race. Damn if only this were real.

  After everything that had happened we were finally where we should be as a couple, and any doubts I had about him had been dispelled by his consistent loving support. And, the way he tried to protect me that went above and beyond most men’s capabilities.

  In my view it was a no-brainer. I would marry Gibson Barclay in a heartbeat, and I knew Gibson had strong feelings for me, but I couldn’t really imagine him to be the marrying kind, no matter how much joking he was doing about it.

  Nudging me out of my reverie, Gibson whispered sexily into my ear. “Hey, where did you go?” His seductive low tone and hot breath sent shivers down my spine. Snickering, Gibson whipped off the covers and smacked my butt, then rolled me over pinning my hands above my head with one hand, then crawled over me. Taking his dick in his other hand he began stroking it. “I’ll ask you again do you want this or am I heading to the shower for a date with my hand? I have to go out in thirty.”

  What woman could say no to Gibson? So twenty minutes later he was drying himself in the bathroom fresh from the three minute shower, and I was standing by the bathroom door mesmerized, looking a ravished mess after his fast hot and heavy session.

  Smiling sexily, Gibson looked incredible with his clean freshly shaven shiny skin and damp hair. Winking as he walked naked into the dressing closet I couldn’t stop myself from giving his butt a pat on the way past. No woman would have been able to resist that gorgeously rounded firm rump of his. When I followed him into the walk-in, Gibson half turned to look at me, smirked mischievously and turned back to reach into a drawer. Taking out a folded black t-shirt he shook it out and pulled it over his head.

  When his head poked through he looked directly at me, “You need a dress…and shoes…and flowers…get Ruby to help you I’m sure she’s great at shopping.” Stepping past me he began flicking hangers on the metal pole looking for some jeans.

  “Gibson you’re acting weird. What’s going on? Where are you going?”

  “Told you I got a wedding to plan– that is— unless you were shitting me last night, which would be really cruel Chloe, and I never figured you for cruel…”

  Taking a deep breath to calm my patience because I was becoming frustrated at him, I waited to see if he would tell me more. I wanted to know where he was really going. Sliding in front of him I caught him by the hips and pushed him back against the mirror. As I did I saw his butt cheeks flatten against it and his face flinched a little at the cold surface hitting his skin.

  “Damn, Chloe. This is hot but I don’t have the time to make you scream again right now, darlin’. But…hold that thought. I’m sure once I’ve been on my errands I’ll be able to oblige you all evening if you want.”

  Swallowing dryly, I stared up at him and his eyes instantly narrowed. I could see I wasn’t going to get anywhere, so I growled and pushed myself away from him. Gibson grabbed my wrists and spun me around so that I was against the mirror with my hands above my head. Kissing me hungrily, all the way down my neck, Gibson drew his head back and smiled sexily. “Oh you know what? I’ve never fucked anyone against a mirror before. Damn, I’m looking forward to that.”

  “You’re not fucking me.” Gibson dipped his head and peered up at me a seductive smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye.

  “I seem to remember you saying that to me before Chloe…look where that got you. Are you always this slow to learn? I get what I want. You said that remember?”

  “And now you want to fuck me? I thought you were going out?”

  “Indeed. I just have to make a split second decision and decide what I want more.” Gibson dipped his head and took my mouth with a hunger that had both of us panting. Pushing away from
me he growled with frustration and turned to make some space between us. Gibson’s thick hard arousal looking painfully stiff as he pulled on his jeans and tried to tuck himself inside and I was stunned that he wasn’t giving in to his urge.

  Gibson was banging around and I could tell that he’d sexually frustrated himself, but whatever he was going to do, he was in a rush, so couldn’t indulge in his urge. “Where are you going in such a hurry, Gibson?”

  “Jeez, Chloe I keep telling you, I have a wedding to plan and a shit load of stuff to organize. Emma and Lois can take you and Ruby for dresses. Don’t buy frilly, puffy shit though, because where we’re going it won’t work.” Staring at me for a second he came over and ran the back of his hand down my cheek and smiled at me tenderly, “Unless you don’t want to get married to me, Chloe. In which case, I think there is some old law in this state about breech of promise or something to that effect.”

  Continuing to tease me with the wedding was beginning to give me an ache my heart and a sinking feeling in my stomach, because I realized just how much I wanted that to be real.

  “Okay go but one of these days joking with me about that is going to backfire, Gibson Barclay.”

  Spinning around he moved swiftly back to my side, sweeping me up in his arms. “Chloe, I know it started out as a joke with Ruby, but I don’t expect you to have to ask me twice. Besides…I love you…fuck…I really love you. So are we doing this or are you gonna piss me off by saying you were only teasing me?”

  Gibson gave me a look that resembled a minor lack of confidence then he continued to speak quickly, preventing me from saying my piece. “I mean you could have planned it better of course. If it had been me proposing I’d have put more effort into it—flowers, candlelight, ring, maybe even a tub with floating candles, but hell we’ve never done any of this courtship in a conventional way, so it’s kinda fitting that it was you and not me that took the initiative.”

  Swallowing hard, my heart pounded in my chest as I watched Gibson’s face looking at me completely dead pan and I was struggling with how to answer. “Seriously?”

  “Chloe since when have I joked about us being together? Fuck…I’d have married you yesterday when you asked me if I’d had my way.”

  Hearing Gibson saying those words made me feel like it was all a dream. “When?”

  “How does Saturday sound?” It was Wednesday already and I was thinking there would be no way I could figure anything out by then.

  “Stop. Don’t do that.” Gibson’s brow creased.

  “Do what?”

  “All that complicated overthinking shit you do all the time. Roles reversed here. You made the proposal and I’m planning the wedding…with a little help of course. Just don’t get drunk at your bachelorette party and turn up at our gig handcuffed to a pole dancer with your eyebrows shaved off, and I’ll do the rest.”

  I had to laugh. Gibson was still Gibson underneath the tender, sweet, wonderful guy, and his alpha male personality pushed its way to the top. Even if it was our wedding. Actually I found it very romantic that he wanted to take all the stress from me, but I was a little nervous about what he had in mind for my big day. Our big day.

  Whatever Gibson decided would be fine with me because I wasn’t really into grand gestures; if we didn’t count the one last night, and anything that meant I spent the rest of my life with him was a small price to pay. Besides I trusted him.

  Gibson left and me and the girls all went dress shopping, chatting excitedly about Gibson and me getting married. At first I was feeling pretty clueless about what I was supposed to wear with his vague instructions about what not to buy. Several hours and about forty dresses later, I had decided I looked totally ugly in a long dress and as Gibson said it was going to be a warm climate, I decided on an ivory silk over satin above the knee dress with a sleeveless slightly plunging bodice with material that gathered around the low neckline. It was beautiful, classic and simple. When I described it like that to Ruby, she said, “It’s just like you then.”

  My guess was our wedding was going to be in the hot sticky climate of LA. So I chose some ivory, toeless, sling-backed, strapped stiletto shoes, but I also bought some low strapless ones for the evening; in the event the new shoes weren’t comfortable to stay in for any length of time.

  Nerves gripped my stomach while I was shopping and I became worried, because when Gibson’s fans learned he was getting married I’d have a bounty set on my head, or I’d most likely be lynched before I had the chance to say “I do.” I trusted Gibson and the girls he’d hired to protect me, but there was still a part of me that knew that my life was going to be very different as his wife.

  When Friday night; the night before the wedding arrived, I was spending it with the girls in the cabin, with a feeling like I was hanging from a cliff by my fingernails. There was no doubt in my mind I’d found the right man this time to be with, but I still had no idea what to expect. All I knew was I had to be ready for take-off by four in the morning. Gibson had been very secretive with the rest.

  He had chartered another jet for me and the girls, and Ruby was more excited than me that my wedding was shrouded in mystery. One thing I worried about more than anything, was my big day turning into a media circus with press alerting over exuberant fans wanting to see Gibson, and possibly to kill me. When I voiced this to Gibson, he snickered and was quick to dismiss my worries with a throw away phrase, “No chance, darlin’.”

  Being approached by fans was one of the reasons I had preferred to have a quiet night at home. We had dinner delivered for us, and although Ruby was a bit peeved that I was spending my last night of freedom this way, and not living it up, she understood that living with Gibson was going to be all about high profile events and committing myself to living the life, not dissimilar to that of a goldfish in a bowl, where anyone could just peer in whenever they wanted to.

  During the evening, Emma was bent double with laughter as she tried to tell us about a bad date she’d had when my phone beeped with a message. Seeing Paul’s ID come up on the screen still made my heart flip-flop and I turned away from the table for privacy.

  Paul: Listening to ‘Something I Need’ by One Republic and I thought of you.

  Tucking my hair behind my ear my thumb moved quickly over the keypad and I smiled warmly imagining Gibson’s fingers nimbly twitching like he was playing the chords and probably not even realizing he did that.

  Me: Breathing and thinking of you.

  It was true. Every breath I took was hard without him around. Gibson consumed my thoughts but as soon as I sent the text I felt it sounded mushy, and I was embarrassed I’d actually sent something that needy to him.

  Paul: Jeez Chloe you’re getting cornier than I am! Take me to bed and text me back.

  Gibson ended his text with a wink and I couldn’t help smirking at the thought of his naughty texts in the past. It was only 8:15 in the evening, but I needed some last minute encouragement from him more than I needed to be with the girls, so I excused myself saying I was going to relax in the bath and made my way upstairs.

  Flinging myself heavily onto the bed I smiled in anticipation and texted him again.

  Me: Lying on our bed. Lonely!

  Paul: Want to play? *waggles eyebrows

  Me: Whatever you want. *raised eyebrow

  Paul: salacious grin hmm…

  Paul: Photos…I want pictures.

  ME: of…?

  Paul: Body parts. Close ups and we have to guess what the picture is.

  Paul sent a text with the caption “I have a burn here.” It was just a close up of skin. How the hell do I know that is? Then I saw just a tiny bit of definition which I recognized as one of his pecs and I recognized it as the center of his chest. For several minutes the game continued with us both taking pictures of ourselves in close up and I was surprised when Gibson recognized practically everything I sent him, and some of the ones. Mine were all general areas, but the ones he sent me made me blush.

  O
n the last picture I was stumped for what to send so I took a picture of the back of my left hand. It was a close up of just two fingers and I giggled because from the angle I took it from, it looked like the seam of a butt. Gibson’s mind—which was frequently in the gutter went with that thought as well.

  After a couple of minutes he conceded he didn’t know what it was, and when I told him it was the fingers on my left hand another text picture came straight back. When I opened it there was a beautiful white metal ring with a huge round solitaire diamond in the middle. My first thought was it’s beautiful, my second it’s too expensive what if I lose it? The caption that went with it said,

  Paul: Guess you need to wear this so I can distinguish between your hand and your ass crack Chloe. Oh…this one goes on your finger.

  The text finished with a wink, and it made me chuckle. Shaking my head in disbelief, I touched the screen in awe that he’d had the time to choose the perfect ring for me. Swiping the screen I called him, needing to hear his voice.

  “Paul Lesley’s answering service how may I help you?” His playful, sexy tone made me giggle infectiously which made his low rumbly laugh squeeze at my heart.

  “I hope you packed a sexy bikini because I’ll want to get a good look at my new wife on our honeymoon before I commit to consummating anything.”

  “When are we going on honeymoon? I thought you had to work Tuesday?”

  “I do, so it’s a two day break…the best I can manage right now, but I promise we’ll find time for a proper one later. Are you all set? Are you excited? I’m excited…I can’t wait for you to get here.”

  Smiling in amusement at Gibson’s excited, enthusiastic questions, I had a little flashback to Beltz because he had sounded a lot like he had back then. Gibson the teenager was the quick talking, smooth, engaging teenager that I fought to hate, except now…there was no way I could ever hate him, because I knew the man behind the boy. “Yes, Gibson I can’t wait.”