by Lisa Plumley
After his night doing recon at the brewpub without Gabby, Shane had gotten to know and understand this misfit crew much better. He’d figured out what made them tick, what made them stick around, and which dynamics were working at Campania … and which were not. But that was day-old news. Right now …
“‘Penguins,’” Gabby mimicked as they kept going. “Huh?”
“It’s a signal that Hypo and I made up,” Shane explained. “When he gets frantic about some new imaginary illness, he’s supposed to break the cycle by thinking about something else.”
“Like penguins?”
Shane nodded. “I told him to think of something that made him smile. He said ‘penguins.’” A grin. “I’m not judging.”
“Me neither. Penguins are cute.” As they reached the employee break room, Gabby stopped. For the first time, her body softened in his grasp. “It’s nice of you to try to help Hypo. He gets pretty wrapped up worrying about getting sick—preferably with some super-rare disease or textbook medical condition.”
Shane shrugged. “Most people are closer than they think to solving their problems. They just need a fresh eye and some help.”
“Even you?” With unexpected seductiveness, Gabby eyed him. “Even you need help solving your problems?”
“Hell no. I’m perfect already.” Grinning, Shane stepped back. He gestured at the break room floor. “As proof … ta-da!”
Gabby squinted. She looked at him. Examined the break room floor more closely. Then, “I’m seeing … what, exactly?”
“The floor!” Excitedly, Shane pointed at it. “I mopped it.”
“So? You’ve been doing that for three days now.”
“Yes. Inexpertly. But now it’s perfect. Impeccably clean. No puddles of mop water. No missed spots. No improvement necessary.” Feeling ludicrously proud, he pointed at himself. “You are looking at a world-class mop jockey, right here.”
Gabby stifled a smile. “Let me get this straight. You’re a business tycoon with a gazillion-dollar high-rise apartment—”
“I’m an aspiring restaurateur, yes,” Shane corrected, sticking to his makeshift cover story. “Who has a home.”
“—and you’re this happy about mopping successfully?”
For the first time, Shane had cause to feel uncertain.
He forged onward anyway. “Hell yes, I am.” He gestured at the chipped but pristine linoleum. “I made this floor better than I found it.” For him, that was a first. A monumental one.
“I did have to give you a lot of instructions, though.”
“And I took those instructions well,” he reminded her.
“And you do hold the Campania record,” she mused, “for the newbie with the longest tenure in the mopping department.”
Shane frowned. Why was Gabby denting his sense of hard-earned accomplishment? “Fuck off, will ya? I’m learning!”
“I know.” Smiling at him, Gabby came closer. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “You did a good job. Well done.”
“That’s right. Thank you.” He relaxed a fraction, loving the feel of her. It had been days since he’d held her in his arms. This was just what he needed. “Was that so much to ask?”
“For me? Yes. For you?” With a new sense of teasing companionship, Gabby swayed against him. She darted a cautious glance toward the noisy, bustling kitchen. “Yes. I get the impression you haven’t had to toe the line at work very often.”
“I haven’t,” Shane admitted. “I’ve always been … my own boss.” That was one way to describe fixing for a living.
At least he was being honest with Gabby. In his own way.
“An entrepreneur who’s willing to mop. What do you know?”
Shane knew that he’d made an authentic attempt at learning that mundane task. He’d worked earnestly to please her. But he’d already been vulnerable enough for three lifetimes with Gabby.
“I told you, I’m unique,” Shane said, purposely shifting the conversation. Hearing Gabby mock his efforts—even good-naturedly—bothered him more than he wanted to admit. He hadn’t been able to pretend at mopping, though. He’d had to learn that for real, and then to do it. For his fix to work, he’d had to appear serious about learning the pizzeria biz. He’d had to seem genuinely interested in trailing her. “But you’re right about one thing. I’ve never liked authority.”
“Around here, I’m your authority.”
“Well …” He couldn’t help smiling. “I do like you.”
“Mmm.” Her suddenly flirtatious gaze traveled over his face. She came even closer. “I like you, too. I liked you right away.”
Her nearness made him hot. Also, antsy.
Shane didn’t want anyone to find them this way. An on-the-job rendezvous could only endanger the good relations he’d built with the crew. He’d managed to convince them that his relationship with Gabriella was over. If they knew it wasn’t, they would only resent Shane for having an “in” with the boss.
They would resent Gabriella for playing favorites, too.
On the other hand, Gabriella felt wonderful against him. For her sake, Shane could overlook a lot of risky behavior.
“Everyone likes me,” he agreed, settling on an in-between strategy that didn’t discourage her but didn’t involve a full-court press toward getting them both naked behind the break-room changing screen, either. “Despite that, though, no one’s ever expected anything but badness and trouble from me.” He smiled, realizing that that had always been true … until now. “Except for you. You expect more from me,” he said, “and you get it.”
“Well, this is exemplary mopping,” Gabby said. “After this, I’ll be expecting even more good things from you.”
At that, her winsome smile hooked him twice as hard. Shane liked her so much. He didn’t want to. He just did. Helplessly.
He also loved that she actually seemed to believe he could be good. Worse, Shane was starting to suspect he could be, too.
Here at Campania, he was building things, not tearing them down. He was getting an honest day’s wage for an honest day’s work. He actually felt … good about that. Even about mopping.
“So,” Shane said, stretching his sore, unaccustomed-to-mopping muscles, “now that I’ve conquered mopping, what’s next?”
“Next?” Gabby’s voice lowered. “Next you get a reward.”
“Really?” He brightened. “Sometimes, in grade school, I’d get a sticker for a job well done. I loved those stickers.” He sighed. “So much so that I swiped the whole roll from the teacher’s desk. After that, they didn’t mean so much anymore.”
“Aw.” Gabby stroked his jaw. “Poor disillusioned thieving baby. That must have been a bummer for you.”
“It wasn’t so bad. I sold the stickers to the other kids at a profit. It went along with my report-card-doctoring service.”
In retrospect, he realized he’d hit upon “fixing” early. And hard.
“Ooh!” Gabby gave a husky laugh. “You really were bad.”
“Not bad.” He delivered her a grin. “Just misunderstood.”
“That’s what all the bad boys say.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’m into bad girls.” Whose philosophies she, all at once, seemed to be channeling. How else to explain Gabby’s continued stroking of his face, her increasingly close-to-him body, her purring delivery of those lines? “Like you.”
“Me?” She gave him a wide-eyed look of sham innocence … even as she ran her hands seductively along his shoulders and down his chest. Studiously, she puzzled over the buttons of his chef’s coat. She undid one. “I’m not bad, just misunderstood.”
“That makes two of us. Two of a kind.” Shane couldn’t stand it anymore. He scooped her cheek in his hand, then kissed her.
After so many days without her, feeling her against him almost made him lose his mind. Gabby kissed him back with all the intensity and passion he remembered—and when he finally levered away from her, trying to regain control, she grabbed two fistfuls of his whites an
d shoved him against a nearby locker.
The whole thing clanged. Everyone must have heard it in the kitchen. If they’d begun service, their customers would have heard that telling clang in the dining room. Evidently, Gabby didn’t care. She only kissed him harder, her hands roving lower and lower….
Shane grasped her hands. “Here? Really?” he managed to pant. His vision had gone hazy. His pants seemed to have shrunk. “Anyone could walk in on us. Bowser, Scooter, Emeril—”
“You’re right,” Gabby said. “Over here would be better.”
Then she grabbed his hand and dragged him toward paradise.
“You started this,” Gabriella panted to Shane as she kicked shut the door to her office. A regulation OSHA poster fell loose from the wall; a barrage of paperwork and office supplies blocked her from what she really wanted. Shane. She kicked everything aside, pulling Shane farther into the office. “I just want the record to show that you started this, by kissing me back there.”
“Guilty.” Eagerly, Shane worked at the buttons of her chef’s coat. With no repentance at all, he peeled it away from her shoulders, revealing her tank top beneath. He cupped her breasts through it, then kissed her again. “I’ll take the heat.”
“You’ll bring the heat, you mean.” Gasping, Gabriella clutched his head against her. She ran her fingers down his back, grabbed the hem of his chef’s coat, yanked it upward. The minute she’d actually touched him out there, she’d been dying to see Shane naked again. To kiss him. To feel him. “Oh my God.”
“You feel so good,” he breathed as she found the wits to unfasten his chef’s coat’s buttons instead of hastily trying to jerk the whole thing off him unfastened. “I missed you,” Shane said as Gabriella peeled away his coat to reveal the T-shirt beneath. “Why did we wait so long to do this again?”
“Because it’s wrong.” Gabriella dropped his coat, helped him out of his T-shirt, then spent a moment savoring him. She started in on his pants. Yay, drawstrings! Chef’s pants were genius in the getting-undressed-quickly department. “So wrong.”
Shane groaned. “I love doing things that are wrong.”
For a second, as he caressed her face and looked into her eyes, Gabriella got the crazy impression that he loved … her. But how could he? All they’d ever done was … well, this.
And have mop lessons, of course. Responsible, joke-filled, trying-to-resist-Shane-and-failing-miserably mop lessons.
They’d almost killed her. The whole time Gabriella had been tutoring Shane in swirly, figure-eight mop motions, she’d also been staring at his hands, his muscle-bound arms, his face, and trying to keep her vow not to sleep with him again. Just mop.
Speaking of which … Gabriella had been unbelievably touched by Shane’s efforts at Campania so far. Against all expectations, he’d survived that first hectic day. And the next. And the next. He hadn’t done anything perfectly (not by a long shot), but he’d exerted an honest and hardworking effort. That impressed her.
“This can’t be wrong,” she asserted as Shane wasted no time stripping off her tank top. Good idea. She craved the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips, his mouth against hers, his big, hard cock inside her. Shane’s clothes fell to the floor. Heart pounding, Gabriella wiggled out of her pants. Her panties. And her good sense, too. “Not when it feels this right.”
On a groan, Gabriella felt Shane caress her breasts, then kiss her nipples. They were both naked now, naked and striving, and no matter how much Shane kissed her, Gabriella couldn’t get enough. His mouth felt soft and skillful, his hands rough and tender, and she’d been fantasizing about this, Gabriella realized, ever since agreeing to let Shane come to work for her.
It was past time those fantasies became a reality.
After that, she told herself, surely they’d fade into the background. After that, she could get some real work done.
Assuring herself she was on the right course, Gabriella reached lower. Shane’s cock filled her hand. His moans filled her ears. His warmth touched her all over. Just as she’d remembered, his body felt hot and taut and incredible. Touching him had some kind of … effect on her. Being near him was like being drugged. All Gabriella could do was want him, dream of him, and remember how wonderful it had been between them.
She wanted more of that. More of him. Right now.
As someone who’d (almost) always gotten what she wanted …
“Get on the desk. I’ll be on top.”
His smile made her wetter all on its own. “Not this time.”
To demonstrate what he meant, Shane caught her around the waist. Yelping in surprise, Gabriella found herself whirling in midair, feeling dizzy and electric and yearning. She landed.
On her desk. Naked. Taking full advantage, Shane put a hand on each of her bare knees. Delivering her another wolfish grin, he dropped to his knees before her, then spread her thighs.
Gabriella guessed what he intended a heartbeat before it happened … and that still didn’t prepare her for the jolt of pleasure she felt when his mouth touched her. This time, she really was electrified. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t resist. All she could do was melt against Shane—writhe against his talented tongue, his sensuous lips, his hands and his heat and his moans of pure pleasure. They matched hers.
“I love this,” he said hoarsely, glancing up from his position between her thighs with a look so affecting and so pure of elemental affection that Gabriella melted even more.
I love you, that look seemed to say again. But a second later, Gabriella forgot that look, carried away on a fierce wave of orgasmic pleasure that made her shout helplessly. The sound of her cries echoed off her office walls, probably reverberating toward the pizzeria’s busy kitchen, but Gabriella didn’t care.
She needed this. She needed Shane. Now more than ever.
Reaching for him, Gabriella had every intention of returning the favor. Kissing Shane … there … had never held greater appeal. But she lolled, languidly, for an instant too long.
“I’ll be on top,” Shane informed her, giving her a heartfelt, passionate look. “And you’ll enjoy it.”
“Yes, sir,” Gabriella managed to pant. “I want to.”
She’d never spoken truer words—especially not once Shane pressed her down atop her paper desk calendar, shoved aside a few intrusive notebooks and a cupful of pens, and then situated himself above her. Full of anticipation, Gabriella looked up at him. A sense of rightness, of desire, of affection struck her.
“I missed you, too,” she confessed, echoing Shane’s earlier statement. Why could she only admit it while they were naked?
His passionate gaze softened. “You can have me anytime.”
“But I want you all the time.” Gabriella stroked his back, trying to bring him even nearer to her—trying to merge with him and disguise her own deepening feelings as uncomplicated lust. She clutched his backside. “I want you inside me, right now.”
Something dark and desirous swirled in his gaze, answering her. Shane seemed triumphant to know that she wanted him.
He also seemed … awestruck. How could that be?
Gabriella never found out. Because in the next instant, Shane surged forward. With a slick, gliding motion, he filled her completely. Gabriella let her head loll back, feeling her eyes drift shut. Yes. Nothing had ever felt this perfect.
She was already nostalgic for when it would be over.
“I want you to come again.” Shane stopped thrusting long enough to kiss her. Tenderly, he stroked her face. “And I’m giving the orders this time. You have no choice but to obey.”
On a disbelieving smile, Gabriella opened her eyes. “Nice try. But that won’t work. If I were on top, maybe. But this—”
Several long, moan-filled, and shuddering moments later, she had to eat her words. Because somehow, Shane did make her come.
Again. With a full panoply of breathy cries to prove it.
If her crew hadn’t heard that, they were dangerously hard of he
aring. They did tend to play loud music during setup….
“God, you’re magnificent.” Holding her in his arms afterward, Shane slumped in a depleted heap atop her. A goofy grin lit his face, making him seem boyish. Undefended. “Whatever you were doing with your hips there, right at the end—”
“Good?”
“Unbelievable,” he corrected with another kiss. “You sent me right over the edge. And you know it.” Another smile, followed by a shiver of erotic remembrance. “You know it damn well.”
“Well, it’s only fair … given what you did to me.”
His smile broadened. “I think you howled like a wolf.”
“I did not!” Teasingly, Gabriella smacked his shoulder. She couldn’t believe how comfortable she felt with Shane. Why had she resisted this? This was great. Resistance was futile. “But you quacked like a duck at one point. It was … memorable.”
“It was imaginary, you mean.” Calling her bluff, Shane pushed himself on his elbows. “No one can do that to me.”
“I could,” Gabriella boasted, then fibbed, “I already did.”
“Well, if we’re telling lies today”—Shane eyed her—“I’m going to tell a really tall one and say that wasn’t the best sex of my life.”
Gabriella scoffed. “They can’t all be the best between us.”
“With you?” He stroked her cheek. “They definitely can be.”
Immeasurably moved by Shane’s version of desktop pillow talk, Gabriella relaxed against him. “You’re fantastic, too.”
“I’m pretty sure I have splinters in both knees. Worth it, though.” He gave her a ribald grin. “This desk of yours must be an antique. A dangerous antique. We might need tetanus shots.”
Hurt that he’d poke fun at her pizzeria’s dilapidated furnishings, Gabriella stiffened. “Hey. This is a traditional desk,” she informed Shane. “It belonged to my dad, before—”
Before my showdown with him happened. Before I skipped town in a huff. Before our pizzerias got attacked, before Dad got high blood pressure from the stress, before things snowballed.
But Gabriella never had a chance to express any of that.
“Whoa!” Shane levered off her. “Getting busy on your dad’s desk is a bridge too far for me. That’s a mood killer.”