by S. Valentine
Gabi noticed Mallory was now being served at the bar. “She’s fine.” She clutched her glass. “Suzie’s expecting.”
“Wow. Send my congratulations.”
“I will.”
He drummed the table with his fingertips. “You look lovely, by the way.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled. She looked for Mallory again. She was laughing and talking with a young man.
“You seem stressed. Is something on your mind?” Lawrence eyed her suspiciously.
She shook her head.
“Do you want me to leave you to it?” He began to stand.
“No,” she blurted out. She didn’t want to be alone. Nor did she want to be a third wheel, with Mallory and her companion.
“I miss you, Gabi,” he said softly.
“Wh..what?” Gabi spluttered, wondering where that came from.
“I wish I could take back how I treated you. I was selfish. I hate myself for it.”
“Lawrence, don’t.” She raised a hand to stop it. “It’s in the past.”
He drained the last of his water. “You want another drink?”
“Yeah…may as well.” She hiccupped again. “Why are you drinking water?”
“I’m driving.”
An hour passed to which Gabi, Mallory, and her companion were in fits of laughter, all of them drunk, except for Lawrence. When it came to the bar closing, they stood outside, trying to hail down a taxi. It was no use. There was a huge queue, and what seemed like at least half an hour wait.
“I can take you both home?” Lawrence offered.
“We’re fine. We can get a taxi,” Mallory responded.
“I insist.”
Gabi wrapped her arms around herself, feeling goosebumps spread on her arms in the chilly air. Her heels were pinching her feet, and she desperately wanted the warmth and comfort of her bed. “Come on, Mal. We’ll be waiting ages otherwise.”
“Okay.” Mallory groaned. “It was nice meeting you, Todd,” she told the friendly man. “You brightened up an almost ruined evening.” She giggled.
“Glad to be of service.” He grinned.
“I can take you home too,” Lawrence offered.
“Nah.” He shook his head. “My friends are around here somewhere.”
Mallory waved to Todd, and then followed Gabi and Lawrence toward the car park. They hopped in the back of his Mercedes, laughing hysterically at the night’s events. Gabi’s dress was drenched with beer, after Todd had accidentally knocked some over her. She kicked off her heels, and fell against Mallory as the car swerved around the corner. It was fifteen minutes later, when Mallory sat up abruptly, her eyes wide with terror.
“Lawrence, I thought we were dropping Gabi off first?”
“We’re almost at your place,” Lawrence told her. “It was nearer, Mallory.”
“I wanted to make sure Gabi got home safely.”
“She will.” He glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. “Don’t you trust me?”
“No, I fucking don’t.”
“Look, Mallory, I know we’ve had our ups and downs, but I would never bring harm to Gabi. I messed up once already. I wouldn’t go down that road again.”
When the car stopped outside Mallory’s house, she pulled Gabi in for a quick hug, and climbed out. Before she strode off, she said, “Lawrence, don’t do anything you might regret. Believe me, you will suffer the repercussions.”
“I’m taking her home. That’s all.”
“Yeah, that better be all.”
Mallory waved at Gabi a final time before stumbling down her garden path. Gabi fell back against the seat, feeling as if she would vomit. Lawrence wound down his window, allowing a cold breeze to seep through the car.
“Is that better, Gabi? Maybe it’ll sober you up a little.”
“Hopefully,” she mumbled.
Half an hour later, Lawrence was assisting her toward her front door. Gabi inhaled deeply. She was hit with another reminder of the night at the club, like a sharp slap in the face.
Darion unzipped his jeans slowly. As he pulled them down to his ankles and kicked them off, Gabi and everyone else in the room got a full view of his perfectly shaped, firm ass. Except for his boxers, he was fully naked―his smooth chest, tight abs and muscular biceps making him the centre of attention under the dim lights. Gabi wanted nothing more than for him to remove Jayce, who was annoyingly kissing her neck. She was only pretending to enjoy it. She’d wished that Darion would wrap his arms around her, and be only hers.
Instead he lowered his body atop of Leah’s and kissed her. Grinding his body against Leah, his arse bobbing up and down, he grabbed hold of Gabi’s hand once more. Their stares locked.
“Darion. I want to experience everything with you,” Gabi lied. “But can we take it one step at a time?”
“Do you wanna go home?”
“I wouldn’t mind having you all to myself.”
“Anything you want, Gabi. Remember, I’ve got all of the patience in the world for you.”
“I’m not ready to go in just yet.” Tears steamed down Gabi’s face. Although she was feeling insecure, she knew the alcohol played a part in her emotions showing so openly.
“What’s wrong, Gabi?” Lawrence studied her intently, his expression displaying concern.
“I don’t want to be alone…” she slurred. “I’m so tired…but I know I won’t be able to sleep.”
“Do you want me to sit with you for a while?” he offered.
Gabi nodded meekly as she dived into her bag for her keys. When she had them in her hands, she attempted to open the door, but failed miserably, cursing when it wouldn’t work. Lawrence then tried, and when he was successful in opening it, he informed her she’d been using the wrong key. She giggled as she led him into the living room.
“Do…do you want a drink?” She kicked her heels off and flopped onto the couch.
“I’m fine.” He sat beside her. “Nice place,” he said, checking the room out.
“Thanks.” She hiccupped.
“Gabi.” He shot her a serious look. “What was all that about at the door? Are you in some sort of trouble?”
“No.”
“What are you upset about?”
She shrugged. “Sometimes…sometimes life can be a bit overbearing.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “It can.”
When silence loomed upon them, Gabi found herself thinking of Darion again, wondering what he was doing, who he was with, whether Eva was there. She hung her head in her hands. How could she, at times, love Darion to the point where it was insane, and then at other times, dislike him for his desires―hate him even? The good points about him filled her mind, making it seem almost impossible to leave him: his gorgeous appearance, his kind heart, his ambition, and drive, his caring and protective nature, his fun, spontaneous personality. Oh and not to mention his skill between the sheets.
God. She sighed heavily. But the bad really did outweigh the good. Just that one thing alone: his love of swinging. Images filled her mind again of him kissing Leah, her neck, her chest, her stomach, grinding against her, groaning with her, touching her.
She burst into uncontrollable sobs, her shoulders bouncing. She knew she probably looked a mess, mascara streaming down her cheeks, and her hair all wild. She held her palms to her face, feeling pathetic. She felt her cheeks burning in embarrassment when Lawrence wrapped his arms around her.
“It will be okay, Gabi,” he soothed. “Whatever it is.”
“It will never be okay.”
Lawrence lifted her head and stroked loose strands of hair from out of her face. Gabi stared at him, sniveling. She tried her hardest to stop crying, but the tears seemed never-ending. As she studied Lawrence’s face, his brows that were creased with concern, she felt warmth spread through her, knowing he cared. “Nobody will ever love you the way that I loved you,” his words echoed in her mind. Had Lawrence been right? She inhaled air, wiping her eyes. When Lawrence leant toward her slowly, she didn�
��t stop him when his lips pressed against hers. She squeezed her lids shut as his tongue swept in and filled her mouth. She reciprocated, desperately needing to feel loved, for someone to take away the hurt that Darion sometimes caused her.
She felt her body being lowered onto the sofa.
Chapter
Thirty-Four
Darion
It was Sunday evening and Darion was sitting at his usual spot at the corner of the bar, downing whisky after whisky. He focused his attention toward the stage, where Marnie was seducing the crowd. She was toying with her bra straps whilst gyrating her hips. Darion remembered the evenings when he'd sit and watch the girls dance for hours, especially Marnie, Lexi, and Gina. It felt like a long while ago.
“Hey, boss.” Lexi appeared from the store room, carrying a cardboard box. She placed it on the counter and began stocking the shelves with vodka bottles.
“Hey, Lex. Everything okay?”
She nodded. “For now.”
Darion glanced back at the stage. Marnie was topless, and fondling her boobs, whilst the crowd watched on in admiration. She could sure move her body. He felt his shoulders droop a little and realised he missed Gina. She always knew how to cheer him up when he was feeling down in the dumps.
“Daz.” Lexi shoved the cardboard box under the counter. “Something’s up, I can tell.” She rested her elbows on the bar, leaning closer to him. “What’s wrong?”
He tapped his fingers on the counter. He despised talking about feelings. He preferred to keep it all in and handle any problems himself.
“Nothing’s up.” He forced a smile. “Everything’s great, darlin’.”
“I don't believe you.” She straightened her posture. “Are you sleeping better lately?”
“I’m mostly always with Gabi, so yeah.”
“Have the nightmares stopped now that Eva’s back?”
“Yeah,” he said, not wanting Lexi to worry about him.
“So, how’s things with you and Gabi? Eva told me you were using the playrooms.”
“She shouldn’t be discussing my private business.”
“Oh, give it up, Daz.” She shook her head. “How did Gabi find it? You don’t want to push her too far. She’s not like the other women you’ve dated. Even I know that.”
“I think she enjoyed it,” he said and meant it. “She’s asked to take it slow. She needs to get used to it, that’s all.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Darion, can I speak to you for a moment?” The silky voice cut through him like glass, and he felt his muscles instantly tense.
“Sure.” He reluctantly turned around to face her.
He noticed Eva cast her eyes on Lexi. She raised her eyebrow. “A little privacy, perhaps?” She hooked her arms together over her ample chest.
“Sure.” Lexi smiled, which Darion knew was as fake as Eva’s breasts.
“Why are you behind the bar? Shouldn’t you be dancing?” Eva’s voice was stern.
“I’m just giving Jasmine a hand.” Lexi rolled her eyes. “You know where I am, Daz.” She squeezed Darion’s shoulder supportively before she sauntered off.
“The girls haven't changed much,” Eva snarled. “Still interfering in other people’s business.”
“What do you want, Eva?” Darion pushed himself to his feet.
“I was talking to Kit―you remember her, right? She used to date your friend Lennie here.”
“Get to the point.” He sighed heavily, glancing over her shoulder. A man was stumbling to the bar, although he certainly didn’t need another drink. Darion made a mental note to throw him out after Eva was done with him. As he was pulled back to reality, he saw her lips were moving, but her words weren’t meeting his ears.
“So, what do you think?”
He shook his head. “About what?”
“Weren’t you even fucking listening?” Eva snapped, raking her fingers through her long, silky black hair. Her green eyes, clouded with anger pierced through him. “I said, me and Kit decided that male strippers once a month would bring in shit loads of money. This town is lacking―”
“Not gonna happen.” Darion turned his back on her and drained the last of his whisky.
“Why not?”
“I’ve never had male strippers, and I’m not starting now.”
“This is our club, Darion.” She stood tall in her heels. Leaning closer, she said, “You might want to remember that before you’re so quick to dismiss my ideas.”
He smirked, purposely trying to aggravate her. Mirroring her actions, he leant into her, so he was mere millimeters from her face. She didn’t step back, didn’t flinch. Nothing. In fact, Darion believed by the upturning of her red glossed lips that she liked him being so close. “You might wanna remember that I’ve run this club for years―solo.”
Eva half smiled. “I see you’re still afraid of a little competition.” She laughed.
“No one even comes close to competing with me, Eva.” He placed a hand on her hip. “After all,” his voice was low and husky, “that’s why you’re back, isn't it?” He pushed her aside, not waiting for an answer.
“Daz! Get Lennie, or Trav!”
Darion shot around to see Lexi, backed against the wall. The drunken man was throwing his empty glasses at the bar, shattering them. As he screamed obscenities, Darion raced over. He grabbed the man tightly by his arm.
“Drop the glass,” he ordered, shooting him a murderous expression.
“Who the fuck are you?” the man slurred loudly. “You don’t know me,” he screamed even louder. “She won’t serve me a drink.” He pointed at Lexi.
“I own this club. I think you’ve had enough for tonight.” He tried to reason with him, “I’ll call you a taxi, okay?”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He shrugged Darion off and smashed a glass bottle off a table edge.
When he shouted in his face, Darion could feel his blood reach boiling point. Curling his fists, he inhaled a deep breath.
“Look, let’s just call you a taxi…ah! Shit!” Darion grimaced as the stumbling man unintentionally cut his arm with the jagged edge of the glass. With his free hand, Darion pressed down on it to stop the oozing blood.
“I can stay where I want.” The man’s arms were flailing around.
“Hey,” Eva said firmly, coming between them.
“Get out of the way, Eva,” he roared. He may hate the bitch but that didn’t mean he wanted to see her get hurt.
“I got it,” she fired back. “Hey.” She turned back to the man. “Let’s go get you that drink, okay?” She soothed. “Tell me, you like Carling? Or is it Guinness? Or Corona?”
He shook his head. “Nah. I don’t fucking like Carling, and Guinness, and fucking…what you just said?” he yelled.
“Okay, why don’t you put that glass down, and come show me what drink you like.”
The man appeared to be mulling it over in his head. “Okay.” He shrugged, dropping the glass.
“That’s it.” Eva placed her hand on his shoulder, leading him away from Darion. “On second thought, you don’t want another drink,” Eva told him. “If you have another drink now, you won’t want to come back tomorrow. You’ll have the bitch of all hangovers.”
Darion followed closely behind Eva as she seemed to be leading the man toward the entrance. Where was Lennie when he needed him?
“I am coming back tomorrow,” the man roared.
“That’s right.” Eva flashed him her killer smile, the one that made men go weak at the knees. “So what you need is a good night’s sleep, and we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“I―”
Before he could change his mind, Eva practically pushed him out the door. Lennie trudged down the stairs.
“Where have you been?” Eva snapped.
“A toilet break. Is that allowed, your majesty?”
“Get this man in a taxi.”
“Thanks, Len.” Darion gave him a nod.
Back
at the bar, Eva was pouring herself a drink, a cocktail of a bit of everything. Only when she’d taken several gulps, did she offer him a drink.
“I’m good.”
Silence loomed over them for a moment, and Darion hated the fact he suddenly felt uncomfortable. Rubbing at the stubble on his chin, he remained standing, whilst Eva took up residence on his stool. It irked him more than it should have.
“Shit! Your arm.”
Darion glanced down and noticed the blood was still trickling. “It’s just a scratch.”
“It could get infected,” she exclaimed, standing up and yanking him by the arm. “We need to get you cleaned up.”
“It’s fine,” he repeated tersely.
When Eva didn’t take no for an answer, he reluctantly allowed her to lead him into the office. He perched on the edge of the counter whilst she rummaged through the cupboard. The first aid kit was in the same place it had always been. He grimaced when she pressed an antiseptic wipe on the cut. It stung like hell. When she was satisfied it was clean, she covered the area with a cotton pad.
“It will probably scar.”
“Good thing I'm not some pretty boy then.”
“You couldn’t be prettier if you tried.” He noticed her features soften and the remorse in her eyes. “Well…” She put a hand on her hip. “I dunno about you but I could do with another drink.”
She turned on her heel and swayed toward the mini bar. She took hold of the bottle of Apple Sourz. Instead of using a shot glass, she selected a large glass and filled it to the top.
“Want some?”
“Why not.”
He watched as she filled another glass, and sashayed toward him. Their fingers touched as she handed him the drink. He ignored the jolt of tingles that shot up his arm and took a sip of the alcohol.
“Thanks for what you did in there,” he said, referring to the drunk man that she’d handled like a professional.
“It’s what business partners are for.”
“Next time, leave it to Len and Trav.”
“Feeling a little overprotective, are we?” Eva smiled over the rim of her glass.
“It’s not in your job description to escort out drunks.”