Sitting back casually, Gibson raised his glass to his mouth and he was definitely checking me out over the rim of it. Hooded, dark eyes ticked over my body and I couldn’t help but feel as if he were sizing me up as dessert. Occasionally, as he perused me, he would lick his lips and at one point he dragged his tongue piercing past his top teeth at the front.
“Why did you do that to your tongue?” It seemed strange that a singer would do something which could affect their speech or the way they sang.
Gibson sat looking completely relaxed, but bit his lip as he thought about how to answer. During that time he never broke eye contact with me. After a couple of minutes, he gave me a knowing smirk. “Self- expression… and for both mine; and when I’m having sex with someone– their gratification as well.”
Thinking he was saying it to shock and embarrass me, I tried not to react but felt myself stiffen slightly and in my effort to cover this up, threw another question. “How so?” As soon as I said it I chided myself, annoyed that he’d thrown me some bait and how quickly I had taken it.
“Maybe I should show you sometime, it’s kinda hard to explain.” Grinning roguishly, he went on quickly, while I squirmed in my seat. A sudden wet patch between my legs from Gibson Barclay suggesting he should go down on me.
“I know when I’ve had oral from a girl with one, it’s an awesome feeling. That little change in texture when I’m being sucked off feels off-the-charts hot.” Smirking, I could see he was biting back a grin and I felt my cheeks burn. I could have kicked myself because as brave as I was trying to be, I couldn’t bring myself to keep eye contact with him.
Why the hell had I had I asked him that? Why didn’t I know about piercings? I’d never been around people with tattoos and piercings if you didn’t count the two bands I’d known. The one that Ruby’s ex was in, and M3rCy.
Feeling pretty stupid I had set myself up like that, I was lost for words. Really, I just wanted a time machine or a time portal or whatever, to appear in the restaurant that I could step into, and I wondered how I would have been able to act normally around him from that point?
“Oh,” was all I could manage in reply to his explicit explanation. What else could I have said? So I sat twirling my wine glass by the stem between my fingers, suddenly fascinated by the red wine licking around the curve of the glass like tiny red waves.
When I had recovered my composure enough to look back at him, Gibson gave me a soft smile and leaned forward in his seat. Reaching over, he took my hand in his and held my nervous gaze. His eyes were sympathetic and he bit his bottom lip.
“Seriously, Chloe. I’m sorry. I can see by your reaction it was a genuine question. I called it wrong. When you asked me that, I thought it was an opening for something. I am so used to people wanting to talk sex and flirting suggestively with me. Asking me intimate questions like that. Honestly? It isn’t often I find someone who is asking because they care about me and want to know Gibson Barclay the guy, and not Gibson the possession.”
Squeezing my hand gently, he continued to hold it, as he began to explain to me why he had them and what they meant for him. “My piercings are hidden. I love piercings and ink, but in moderation. They are an extension of me, imperfect and wounded. They are my way of controlling something in my world. So much in my life is controlled by other people who try to tell me what to say and what to wear, who to speak to and that gets fucking tiring after a while. My tongue piercing has been done a long time and although it’s not advisable I don’t wear when I’m working. Usually, it’s saved for my private time and I put it straight back after a gig. My other one, well…let’s just say that doesn’t come out and it was also an intimate decision.”
Puzzled, I wondered where the other piercing was. Gibson began to laugh, “Your face is a picture.” Laughing louder and heartily at me, he lifted his hand from mine and held my chin, his thumb brushing my cheek. “Chloe, you are my breath of fresh air. Innocent but not, feisty but not, challenging but not, very contradictory and very, very intriguing.”
Unnerved by his sudden scrutiny, I bit my lip. My heart was beating so fast it made me light headed and I wasn’t sure what all of that meant exactly until it fluttered in my chest, and I inhaled heavily trying to get it under control. Most women would have fainted at his feet if he had given them the look that he’d given me at that moment. But, in the back of my mind, was Gibson with all those girls.
All I asked was why a tongue piercing, but as soon as he made that intimate move, his smile dropped and his gaze became intense. Those smoky grey eyes became hooded and lust filled and Gibson’s eyes dropped to my lips.
For a moment I thought he was going to kiss me, and in that split second I had made my mind up that if he did, I was going to let it happen.
One kiss. Who would have blamed me? More would think I had been crazy to pass up the opportunity to kiss him. And, there was a table between us so it wouldn’t have been able to get too out of hand.
Swallowing hard, I tried with everything I had in me to find the courage to keep my eyes trained on his, but the longer he looked at me, the more I melted. Feeling horny as hell and frustrated that he hadn’t kissed me, my confidence waned.
Part of me thought I obviously wasn’t attractive to him; the Gibson Barclay I knew had always taken what he wanted. So the more I thought about it, the less confident I became, until once again I averted my eyes.
Gibson let out a long shuddery breath and let go of my hands. Placing his palms on the table, he pushed himself out of the seat and stood up. Walking behind my chair, he placed his hands on the back rest and bent down close to my ear. His closeness made my body hum in anticipation of what he would do next.
“Come on, Chloe, we need air.” As I began to stand he drew the chair back from me and waited for me to step clear.
Inclining his head and smiling at the maître d’ he opened the door and held it for me to walk through. When I hesitated, he smiled softly, “I told you already, Chloe, I don’t bite.” Smirking, he winked at me playfully.
Once outside, I expected to go back to the plane, although, I had already decided I wasn’t getting in a car with him after the amount of alcohol he’d drunk.
Preparing to have another stand off about how we were getting back to the airport, Gibson caught my wrist and pulled me gently toward him, holding me close, but not intimately. His face was serious. “Chloe, I’ve had too much to drink, darlin’, I can’t drive back.”
Gibson had said that I was contrary, but my expectations of him were constantly being challenged. There was a maturity in him that I never expected and part of me was wondering if it was because I really wanted to see good things in him.
If so, maybe that was because he had awakened feelings in me, that I thought weren’t possible without a high level of trust. Especially after what I had gone through with Kace.
Suddenly Gibson slung his arm around my shoulder, his fingers skimming over my bare arm and sparking a shiver of pleasure that ran down my spine. Leading me forward with the pressure of his hip, he headed in the direction of his car.
“Are we sleeping in the car?” My voice sounded more high pitched than I wanted it to. Stopping abruptly, Gibson leaned back to look at my face, turning my body toward him. Grinning wickedly he raised an eyebrow, “Well, I suppose we could, I had my money on the beach, but the car works just as well, although it is a little too exposed here.”
Shaking my head, I turned my body away and tried to free myself of his hold, but he stood firm. “I’m not sleeping with you, Gibson.” After everything I had said, the argument on the plane in particular, he seemed to be back to that again.
Gibson frowned at me and his jaw twitched in annoyance. “Well fuck, Chloe, you can stay awake all night if you want, but I need some rest. One of us was working earlier and it’s…” Gibson squinted at his platinum Rolex, “fucking one- thirty in the morning.”
Looking over at the car, then back at me, his mouth made a silent ‘O’.
&n
bsp; “Jeez, Chloe. God, no. I didn’t mean we were having sex in the car. What I meant was, if I fell asleep in there, someone might recognize me. I’m much less likely to be discovered lying asleep on the beach than I would in a car by the sidewalk.
“Come on, we’re going to the beach.” Walking over to the car, he pressed the car fob and the trunk sprung open. Gibson leaned in and busied himself moving stuff around, before pulling out a rucksack, a sun shield and a blanket. Turning to look at me, it would have been difficult for him to miss my raised eyebrow.
“You’re thinking that I do this all the time aren’t you?” I must admit I was thinking how would someone know exactly what to put in the trunk of a hired car for him? When I didn’t respond he smirked and shook his head. “Damn, that low opinion and you have it all wrong.” Without waiting for him to say anything else, I responded.
“Only from what I’ve seen and know of you, Gibson. You may not remember me, but I certainly remember how you operate.” Feeling tired, and I really didn’t want to have any more confrontations with him, but I wasn’t going to pussyfoot around what I knew about him.
“Alright Ms. Fucking Marple. What the fuck am I doing with a backpack a sun shield and a blanket?” Putting his hand up to stop me from replying he continued, “Don’t. We’ll be here all fucking night. I’ll let you in on the scoop. This backpack contains a bottle of wine and some chips. Two bottles of water. A toothbrush and paste, a spare cell battery and phone, a battery operated razor, a flashlight, passport, driving license, a roll of dollars, credit card, a cap and a long sleeved t-shirt.”
Gibson pushed the fob again and began to walk across the road with the contents before the trunk had closed, leaving me to scurry after him. Spinning around he made eye contact again, his eyes blazing with his fiery temper.
“Don’t, I’ll answer why as well. That was your next question wasn’t it? I have all this shit around because I am Gibson fucking Barclay and I am not anonymous. This is an emergency kit packed in such a way that it helps me to slip away from the media. As I have used it to do on several occasions. There are a lot of perks to being me, but there are a lot of risks as well. So, what you think you know-- from when you thought you knew me; to what you actually know about me, isn’t worth shit, understand?”
Looking extremely disheartened and suddenly weary, he turned and threw over his shoulder, “Do what you want, I’m getting my head down, I’ve had enough of being polite and having everything I do and say analyzed by you for one day.”
Gibson began striding along the sidewalk away from me, and I realized he was hurt. Setting off after him, I was about four paces behind him; half-walking, half running trying to keep up with him. Still a little unfocused and heady from the wine, my reactions were slower than usual.
Reaching the beach, I saw the first of Gibson’s ‘bag contents.’ A small, but powerful torch lit our way over to a secluded rock formation. Gibson pulled out the sun shelter and popped it up, then lay the blanket down inside. Tying the torch to one of the straps, he then had his hands free to delve into the backpack.
Incredible really, what was inside of it, all vacuum packed to save space, the t-shirt and cap were minute in the packaging. Everything else had been packed with precision. Taking the wine out, Gibson kicked off his shoes and sat barefooted on the blanket. Standing helpless and awkward at the edge of the sun shelter, I waited for him to speak.
“Come here, sit,” he commanded, patting the blanket beside him. I was too tired to argue any further, so I did. Gibson handed me a plastic beaker and poured red wine into it. “Drink it. It will help you sleep. We’ll be fine here. It’s a warm night and the soft sand here tells me the tide will come nowhere near us.”
Feeling altogether too close to Gibson, I sipped at the wine a little too quickly and before I knew it, I had drained the beaker. Gibson finished the bottle by emptying the rest of the wine equally, then reached up and turned off the torch.
We weren’t fortunate enough to have a full moon, but what we did have was an amazing view of the stars. Gibson lay down on one side, perched on his elbow facing me. I could make out his outline in the dark but little else. “I remember you, Chloe.”
I had just closed my eyes for a second and for some reason thought I might have dreamed that Gibson had said that. Either that or that he said something else, and I heard what I wanted to hear. When I recapped and convinced myself he had, I wondered if he thought he had slept with me previously and I was angry about that.
“You didn’t hook up with me when I was at college, Gibson, you can relax.” I sat up long enough to drain the wine from my glass and lay down again. My nerves were becoming an issue in the dark beside him and I sounded bitter.
Gibson snickered, then reached out and stroked down my forearm. “I know, I would definitely have remembered if I had. Are you going to sit at a ninety degree angle all night or are you going to lie down beside me?”
How many women had dreamed Gibson Barclay would ask them that? Not sure if it was the wine or my inner conscience tempting me, or if I wanted that one fantasy night with him, but whatever it was, I lay down flat on my back beside him.
As soon as I did, Gibson shuffled his body nearer to mine. Feeling his hot breath on my neck and the smell of the red wine on his breath gave me feelings that had my body buzzing with excitement.
Between the effects of the wine, his presence, his touch and my lack of vision in the dark, lying there next to him like that was highly intoxicating.
“Are you drunk enough to kiss me Chloe?” Gibson’s seductive tone whispered close to my ear, sending shivers down my spine and a rash of goose bumps across my whole body, putting my hormones on full alert.
Honestly? I was absolutely desperate to kiss him. Half of me couldn’t believe I was there with him and half hadn’t wanted to be for fear of doing something with him I knew I’d regret later.
Gibson’s hand reached out in the dark and he stroked my hair. “Chloe this isn’t the wine that’s making me react to you like this.” Warned by observing many of my friends in similar situations previously, when a guy had been drinking and said that, I would have hazarded a guess it was the wine.
“You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.” And there he was spinning me a line. Thinking what he really had meant was, suddenly I was the flavor of the month; in the absence of any other females on the beach in Carmel-by-the-sea, at what must have been two in the morning by that time.
Determined not to be intimidated by that, I felt as if I may as well go into this with my eyes open and not be fooled by his charming ways, but I had still shocked myself when I closed the space between us and kissed him tentatively on his closed mouth.
It was supposed to be a peck on the lips and nothing more, but within a couple of seconds, Gibson responded and had pinned me to the blanket by the wrists with my hands above my head.
With the swiftness of his action and his face inches from mine, my heart had leapt from an excited beat to beats that thudded wildly in my chest, making my body tremble at the effect. He had aroused me instantly with the possessive hold he had on me. My reaction was more intense than any foreplay Kace and I had ever had. I felt a stirring, a need deep inside me and some pretty strong, passionate feelings which were threatening to rise to the surface.
Gibson’s upper body was across mine and he was taking his weight on his elbows, but his presence was all around me and it felt powerful and assertive.
“Thank you. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to do that. Now that you’ve plucked up the courage to kiss me, Chloe, I’m going to kiss you back.”
CHAPTER 24 – COMPASSION
Chloe
Words hung in the air between us that stopped my heart beating. Catching my breath, I gasped for air. Gibson thought he was leaning too heavily on me and adjusted himself slightly. One hand left my wrist, and he moved it towards his other hand where he then took both of my wrists in one hand still above my head.
�
�Am I turning you on, Chloe? I think you like it when I pin you down. When I take charge. Do you want to know what else I can do that you will like?”
My first thought had been, HELL, YES! My second, Fuck, no. My third, what magic trick did he have up his sleeve? The girls I had always seen him with seemed to be doing things to him. Apart from when he was sticking it to them that is.
“Be brave, Chloe. Tell me what you like. What turns you on?” Staring up at the black silhouette, his outline was visible but devoid of any visible features. I briefly thought he could be anyone. Then smirked in the dark because I thought there was no one I knew like Gibson, so even in the dark, he became visible, even if it was only in my mind’s eye.
Swallowing hard and noisily I then sighed deeply. Overcome in the moment, my voice was barely a whisper. “What do you want to do?”
Without another word, Gibson’s freehand wrapped gently around my neck, sending shockwaves of electricity straight to my core as his mouth claimed mine, his hot tongue poking passionately through my lips, demanding entry.
Dancing tongues, soft moans, and wanton sighs passed between us. Gibson’s kiss was everything I knew it would be and more. Tingling feelings left my scalp crawling in reaction to his mouth on mine. His piercing clicked now and then against my teeth. I liked that.
Trailing his hand down my neck, over my breast and down my side, his hand cupped my ass as he turned my body in toward his. Sparks of electricity burst like bubbles over each erogenous zone he hit with his expert touch. All the time he had been stroking me I could feel him handle me with care, but his hold was possessive.
Pressing his palm against my butt, he pushed me further into him and I could feel how hard he was for me. Feeling his arousal had made me feel both elated and confused. Gibson Barclay didn’t just kiss someone. This was a preamble to a much more energetic activity for him. Was I a willing participant or was I being manipulated? None of this made any sense to me.
Romance: Gibson's Legacy ( New Adult Contemporary Erotic Romance) (Last Score Book 1) Page 19