She had her girlfriends, too. Her closest friend, aside from Logan, was Brandi Parker. She met Brandi in college, where they had been roommates. Brandi had come from out of state, so it had been Gabriella that introduced her to Amber and Marilyn. Now, the four of them were four peas-in-a-pod. They did all of the things normal girlfriends did together—shop, shoot guns, gossip, and, even though Marilyn was married, and Amber wasn’t too far from being married, they still found time to be together.
Last year, Marilyn and Amber had been lucky enough to fall in love—with Marilyn getting married on Christmas Eve. She and Blake were “due” in August with their first child. Amber and Gage were still in the beginning of their relationship and as far as she knew, Gage hadn’t asked Amber to marry him, or bear his children for that matter…yet.
Gabriella worked her way up the ranks in one of those national lingerie companies and after five years, she had been granted the position of Buyer for the company and she had absolutely loved it. It was her one and only job she had gotten out of college and it was the sole reason she wanted to open her own lingerie store. She had a vision and wanted to market her store in a certain way that she couldn’t do at her previous job.
She unlocked the glass door to Lolita’s and walked inside. The pride in her heart swelled every time she came here. Although she was biased—because she had done it herself—she was always amazed by the beauty of what Lolita’s was on the inside. She had painted the inside of the entire store herself…well, not all by herself. Logan had helped her tremendously.
They both had spent almost two weeks painting all of the walls sea-foam green and then all of the baseboards and trim around the doors antique white. It was breathtaking. The chandeliers afforded enough lighting to see well but they weren’t bright bulbs. The dressers and tables were painted with the same antique white and she had used the mint color to paint all of the chairs and nightstands. Where she could, she used both color combinations on a piece of furniture. For something to accent the two colors, she had painted a magenta table that sat in the center of the room.
Her goal was to create a look that gave patrons the feeling that they were inside their bedrooms getting dressed for their most special night out. She knew from experience what it was like to get ready in anticipation of that date where that particular man might see what you were wearing underneath your clothes. The thought, that as a woman, you prepared in advance, hoping that he would want to find out what you were wearing underneath and he would take his sweet time savoring all there was to behold.
Logan found that moment to send her a message. I’m free today. I’m coming over. She smiled. That was fine by her, she could always put him to work. Since it was Saturday, she was open. Logan, however, was off during the weekend and aside from Lucy—who he was careful not to get too close to—he had his family. There was always a small part of her that envied Logan’s big Sunday family dinners. She had been a part of them for as long as she could remember. Her Sundays for the past twenty years had been mostly filled with real family dinners. Laughing, playing board games, cooking and cleaning the kitchen, had been the most normal thing she had experienced as Logan’s best friend. His mother, Donna, was the closest thing she had ever had to a real mother. A mother who listened to her, showed affection, gave her advice and went with her to check out her dorm room and meet her roommate—all opposite qualities of Tammy Crawford. Donna Stokes, as she had been remarried for the past eighteen years, had done far more motherly things in Gabbie’s life than Tammy ever had.
Thank God for Gabbie’s sake, she and her sister had been fortunate enough to have their parents move to Alabama. Their father, Robert, sober enough to follow work out there one summer while she was in college, hadn’t ever cared to come back. She hardly spoke to either one of her parents so she assumed her mother was living with…or without…Robert and still living off the system or doing whatever it was she could in order to survive. Whatever could mean a multitude of things and she didn’t want to know, nor did she care, what those things could be. Whatever. Gabriella tried to live as far removed from them as she possibly could.
Her sister, however, was far more generous. Genevieve, five years younger than Gabbie, still spoke with their mother. Not too frequently, but enough to know the going-ons in their lives. Many times, Gen had spoken of going down to Alabama to see their parents, pleading for Gabbie to go with her, but Gabbie had adamantly refused each and every request. It had finally gotten to the point that Gabbie had to threaten their sisterly relationship with her, that if she hounded her any more about them, Gabbie would not spend time with her. She respected Gen’s decision to remain connected—her sister needed to respect Gabbie’s to remain estranged.
“Hello, are you in here, Cinderella? Why don’t you have any of the lights on?” Logan reached over and flipped on the dimmer switch just inside the door, lighting up one of the chandeliers in the front of the store.
“I’m here. Just was thinking, I guess. Don’t you have anything better to do on your day off than hang out with the likes of me?” Gabriella loved teasing him. In all honesty, she loved having him around. She wanted him around. There was no other place she would rather he spend his day off than hanging out with her.
His bright open-mouthed smile always made her heart skip. She was more than lucky to have him in her life. His happy-go-lucky personality and the way he could make her feel good about herself, never ceased to amaze her. He was wearing his favorite t-shirt, which she knew because he had gotten it on a road-trip a few summers ago. The two of them had gone to New Mexico. The shirt read: FBI: Female Body Inspector.
Every time she saw him in it, she rolled her eyes and revisited the fun weekend they had together going down there. He had bought her a shirt—One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, Floor! —only after she had imbibed on too much tequila one evening. Needless to say, it wasn’t her favorite shirt and she was pretty sure it was shoved into the back corner of one of her drawers at home.
Logan set his briefcase down near her POS system and released a breath. “Come on, you know I love your company. Besides, you and I both know I don’t have anything else better to do. I have a couple files to work on, but besides that, I am at your service.”
“Great. You can help me sort out some of these panties and help me tie the tags around them. I have some garter belts and a few more bras that need tagged too. But if you have too much to do,” she waved at his briefcase, “that’s okay too.”
Logan leaned toward Gabriella’s face and smiled. His eyes were bright and happy. They twinkled. “Gabbie, the files I have aren’t anything that have to be done right away. Besides, we have all day…unless you are going to see Brody.” He laughed and held his hand up before she could respond. “I’m sorry. Cody.”
Why did Logan have a problem with her chef? He intentionally kept messing up his name. “First of all, no, I am not seeing my chef this weekend and second of all, why do you insist on calling him by the wrong name? It’s not that hard! Cody. C-O-D-Y, do you get that? It’s as if you don’t like him and you’ve only met him, what? Three times?”
“Four,” Logan wiggled his four fingers at her. “And I’m surprised he doesn’t make more time for you. What’s his problem?”
His eyebrows scrunched together as the corners of his lips turned up in irritation. She didn’t understand where Logan had picked up this sudden attitude every time they were together. She was certain he knew she didn’t see Cody all the time and she was positive that Logan knew he was a chef who worked most nights, and that was the reason they couldn’t see each other often. She worked during the day and slept at night, and he worked at night and slept during the day.
“Logan, you know he’s a chef. We can’t see each other all the time. Besides, why would you be surprised he doesn’t make more time for me? Did he tell you something?”
Again, Logan’s eyebrows scrunched together, “No. He didn’t tell me anything…it’s just, you know.” he gestured his arm tow
ard her and the store behind him. “You’re obviously beautiful, successful and all your friends are getting married. I assumed you must think it’s time to settle down or whatever it is women think they need to do.”
He nervously cleared his throat and she couldn’t help but giggle. “No. Not yet anyway. I don’t really think about marriage much. I mean, most guys want kids anyway, right? But no, with everything going on here and it taking up most of my time, I don’t really think about it. Only when I see Lucy slobbering all over you like a lost puppy.”
Logan cringed. “You noticed that, huh? Now do you see why I don’t want anything more than just…you know…to do with her?”
“Yes, I totally get it.”
“Which I’m not complaining.”
“Of course, you’re not complaining,” she smirked.
He spread out his arms in a grand gesture. “Do you blame me? What if what’s-his-name was at your disposal to do with what you will? Wouldn’t you want that? Wouldn’t you want to take everything a man was giving you, Gabriella?”
Chapter Three
How had this conversation gone from innocent to sex? Especially to what Gabriella would do if a particular man was offering her his body. He had started out honestly thinking of her chef, but somehow as the questions left his mouth and his thoughts became convoluted with sex, he was suddenly transformed into a ghost-like version of himself and he was watching himself offering sexual things to Gabriella.
Anything she wanted.
Anything she craved. Needed. Desired.
He would do it.
He swallowed down his ridiculous thoughts and hoped she didn’t notice the bulge in his pants as he watched her cheeks turn a light shade of pink. He wasn’t sorry he had put her on the spot. He wanted to know what she would do if their situations were reversed. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with taking what was being offered to him, especially when Lucy knew the rules. No strings attached. Would Gabbie do the same thing? Would she take it, like he was, and not be ashamed?
Gabbie cleared her throat. “I would.”
Was she reading his mind? She would let him give her anything she wanted? Craved? Desired? Needed? “You would what?”
Her cheeks deepened another shade of pink. “You’re going to make me say it? I would let a man give me whatever he wanted with no strings attached. So long as there was one-hundred percent effective birth control in the mix.”
Logan couldn’t help but appreciate her throaty response. The way her chest rose and fell as she answered him. For one split second, she had desire in her eyes—not for him and he knew that. But for what she was thinking and that got him to thinking and maybe he should just tell her—no! What was he thinking? He could never admit to fantasizing about having sex with Gabriella. That would undoubtedly ruin their friendship and she was far too important to him to make her feel uncomfortable by admitting feelings he wasn’t even sure about himself.
Correction.
He was certain he wanted to see what color of lingerie she was wearing underneath her pale blue shirt and slacks. But what he wasn’t certain about was if these thoughts were real. Where had they come from, anyway? Was this something that was going to go away in a week, proving pointless to question and worry about?
“What are you thinking, Logan?” Her voice was low, curious.
Chapter Four
She fidgeted with a pair of stockings that sat on the countertop. She was nervous.
“I was thinking how humans, in some way or another, are all willing to sacrifice their morals in order to get something they want.”
“Really?” She asked sarcastically. “What morals are you sacrificing in order to get what you want from Lucy?”
Logan laughed. “I might be an exception. I don’t have morals where women are concerned. I will take whatever they want to give me, without guilt or shame. But you, you’re different. You have never been one to turn the other way in any relationship just to have sex. Why the sudden change in attitude?”
She blew out a deep breath and he waited while she pondered his question. “Okay, you’ve got me. Back to Cody first. I haven’t admitted this out loud to anyone so please don’t laugh at me—”
“I would never, Cinderella. You know that.”
“Hear me out. Yes, I would love to have a relationship that was more than a maybe-we-can-see-each-other-this-week sort of thing. Yes, I wish I could let go and have sex at this point. Yes, Logan, I wonder if he is the right man to get the job done because I’m sorry, shouldn’t I be more excited about trying to have sex than I am? I have tried being as flirtatious as I know how to be, and nothing grabs his attention and nothing about it even makes me comfortable. So yes, you know I haven’t been with very many men in my life—like two—but honestly, I am ready for a man to just take me to bed and fuck—”
Her shop door swung open, interrupting her tirade. A cool breeze blew across his skin, which was a damn good thing because the way she was going on, he wanted to give her what she needed.
And he knew how she was going to finish her sentence and he wanted to hear the words come out of her mouth, but there was no way she was going to finish now. Only two men? He searched his brain for the knowledge of knowing that about her. Hmmm, he had no idea she had only slept with two men in her entire life. He turned in irritation to the woman who had come into the store. She was middle-aged, maybe early forties and she was hobbling on a broken leg with a walking cast covering her entire left leg. Gabriella straightened up and made her way to the woman.
There went that conversation.
Logan opened up his briefcase. Best to get to work. He sat in his usual seat and began working away while Gabbie helped her customer. He had a few documents he had to go over—one pertaining to an uncontested divorce and another dealing with an ex-employee who was suing a bank he represented for discrimination. Being a general practice attorney gave Logan a wide variety of cases to deal with. He knew a few lawyers who specialized in certain areas of law, but Logan wasn’t at that point in his career to necessitate a specialty. Living in Windsor and being a general practice lawyer afforded him the flexibility to have clients for any purpose instead of limiting himself to one set of clientele.
His father, Jack, wanted Logan to move to Manhattan and join his law firm that served Manhattan’s finest in all aspects related to real estate. His father was expected to retire any day, any year now and Jack’s hope was to have Logan move to the city and work with him side-by-side. Thus, allowing Jack’s clients the opportunity to get to know Logan and trust him. Eventually Logan would be in charge and Jack could be officially retired. That was Jack’s plan.
Logan wasn’t sure what he wanted to do.
He had grown up in Windsor and had spent a great deal of time going back and forth to NYC. He enjoyed the city, he really did. But he was slowly establishing a small clientele in town and he liked the fact that he didn’t have any one area of expertise that would limit his clientele—one of many things that Jack could never imagine. Amongst them was why Logan was pussyfooting around about having an opportunity, such as it was, handed to him on a silver platter. Logan knew it sounded rather foolish, but in all honesty, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with himself. What his father offered was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that wouldn’t be there forever. It was an opportunity that would set Logan up for life.
The problem was it was all too good to be true. Call him crazy, but he felt like he should earn his clientele—not have it be given to him by association. Although he would be a fool not to at least consider it.
He was scheduled to fly to Manhattan rather soon to visit his dad and the firm. He was anxious and apprehensive. He wasn’t opposed to the visit as he’d been there numerous times in the past. He was actually looking forward to the trip and meeting some of his father’s more prestigious clients.
“Oh my gosh, I love it. It looks beautiful on you.” At the gasp of delight, Logan raised his head toward the sound, looked away and
glanced back. There was Gabbie, standing in front of the three-way mirror dressed in red thigh-high stockings, some frilly looking garter belt with the biggest bow on the back he’d ever seen and of course, matching panties and bra. From what he could see, her bra had her tits shoved up so far, they looked like they might escape the bra at any moment.
Fuck.
He could do dirty things with those tits.
Fuck.
He really wanted to.
Gabriella threw her head back and laughed. “It doesn’t matter how I look, it matters how you think you will feel in it.”
Logan’s eyes grew wider. His brain became foggy. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t look away, that was for damn sure. Why was Gabbie wearing the outfit? He didn’t care. All he could think about was how she looked in the red get-up. Breathtakingly beautiful…fuckable. He adjusted himself in his pants. Fuck. She made a full circle as the customer admired the lingerie and Logan admired Gabriella. Her breasts were heavy and the rest of her was…curvy. Smooth-looking. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders.
And that ass.
He was an ass man. Yep. Hadn’t known it before, but now… She was full, plump, and it was delicious enough to sink his teeth in to. He liked what he saw. He envisioned himself on his knees, cupping her butt in his hands, ready to brand his mouth on each sweet cheek. She met his eyes in the mirror and he couldn’t tear his gaze away. He should have but he couldn’t. What would it be like to be with her? To run his lips all over that lacy material? To bite her in places he hadn’t ever dreamt about until now?
She tilted her head to the side as if she were willing him to tell her what he was thinking. She stood there a moment longer, allowing him the privilege to commit her body to memory. Her client whispered something to Gabriella, and she looked through the mirror at him once again, gave him a nervous smile and disappeared back into the changing room.
Pistol Whipped (Love on Target Book 3) Page 2