by Lynn, Stacey
Not exactly the best compliment I’ve ever received, but I listen and soon, she’s waving goodbye to Dom who leaves through the front door. She stands next to it while the guy who has several inches on me looms over Gigi and gives me a look before he leaves and she locks the door behind him.
“I’m almost done,” she says, turning to me with a look of exhaustion stamped all over her face and weighing down her slumped shoulders.
“I’m more than capable of helping you wipe down tables.”
“I’m sure you can, but I have a system.” She comes to me then and places her hand on my cheek like she’s done it every hour, every day, for years.
It shoots warmth straight below my waist.
“I’m not trying to offend you.”
She hides a yawn behind her other hand and shakes her head.
“Hey, if you’re tired, I can take off.”
“And if you want to do that, I won’t try to talk you out of it, but since you were so honest earlier, maybe it’s my turn. Since the night you passed out in my bed and woke up in it, I’ve been hoping I’d get another chance at that scenario without the hangover and hazy memories.”
Shit. Damn. This girl. She’s so petite she only has a couple inches on me. It’s the perfect height for me to slide my arm to her lower back and pull her forward so she’s between my legs.
“I want that too, Georgia.” I kiss her quickly and when I pull back, it takes her a moment to open her eyes. When she does, her smile is lazy, and my dick is hardening.
Yeah. I want a night in her bed, whatever that means.
“No one actually calls me that,” she says. She dips a towel on the bar into a bucket of cleaning solution and wrings it out. “It’s why I go by Gigi.”
“Yeah, but it’s something I didn’t know about you and now I like that I know it and I’m guessing not everyone you meet does.”
“I like that you do.” She rolls to her toes and gives me a kiss. “This won’t take long. You need another drink?”
“If I do, I know how to get one. Go get cleaned up before I’m too tired to walk up those metal stairs and risk my life.”
She gives me a funny look and then shakes her head. “All right, hotshot.”
It’s less than thirty minutes later when she has the tables and chairs cleaned, the bar wiped down, the cleaning stuff taken somewhere and left wherever she put it.
She comes back from the office, keys and phone in her hand, shaking them and grins.
“I have a feeling there was something else you forgot that night you came here and crashed upstairs.”
There’s a lot of things I blacked out about that night, none have anything to do with her.
“Like what?”
“Come on.” She gestures with her head down the hallway. “And I’ll show you my cupboard under the stairs.”
She’s laughing at she says it, and while I’m totally flummoxed, I have the startling realization that there are probably very few places where I won’t follow this girl.
So a cupboard under the stairs it is.
* * *
“What the hell is this place?”
She’s taken me to the storage room. Not exactly where I expected. As the door to the bar behind us closes, she tugs on a string hanging from the ceiling, lighting up shelves of supplies. The room is tiny and for one brief moment, every horror movie I’ve ever watched sparks in my memory.
“Uh. Gigi?”
I turn to see her smiling at me, keys dangling from her hands. “You don’t remember?”
“Being shoved into a cramped storage room full of paper products? No. Can’t say I do.”
“Come on.” She slides behind a metal rack where packages of paper towels sway back and forth when she bumps into it. I follow her, swearing I hear the music to aforementioned thriller flicks.
“The hell?” I ask, when she pulls out a set of keys and pulls open a metal door. A horrific creaking noise squeals into the tiny room.
With her back to me, she laughs.
The door is barely taller than Gigi so I have to almost bend in half to see what she’s laughing about.
“The cupboard under the stairs,” she says gallantly, swinging an arm out. “This staircase leads to my apartment so I don’t have to go outside to get in and out when the bar is open. But you made the drunken, and admittedly, cute, Harry Potter reference the night I dragged you up here.”
I’d been wondering how in the hell she got me up those metal stairs.
“I like to read,” I mutter.
She laughs harder, shoulders shaking. Dipping her head to make sure she clears the door, she grins at me over her shoulder. “You coming?”
I wouldn’t miss this trip for the world. “After you.”
I have to bend so far forward to get through the small door I’m practically kissing my knees but as soon as I’m through, she’s turned on another light switch and we take the definitely more stable set of cement stairs to the top where she unlocks two different locks on the door before pushing it open. As soon as we’re in her apartment, I give the place a quick scan, noticing not much is different from what I remember before.
Bright colors. Small tables covered with books and a few cameras placed on top. Shelves heave from the weight of more books and then there are the photos she’d been trying to explain to me when I’d rudely left that morning.
To my right is the arch that will take me to her bedroom area and bathroom, and to my left is the door to outside along with her kitchen.
“You’re staring at my place like you can’t decide what to clean up first.”
Gigi’s still laughing and this time, I give her a full smile. “You are not tidy.”
She shrugs and tosses her keys and purse onto her kitchen counter, possibly the only thing in this place that’s been cleaned recently.
“Life’s too short to waste it picking up every thirty seconds,” she says. Her hair is pulled up into a bun on top of her head, stripes of teal and blonde mixed together.
I follow her movements as she unwraps a cloth band from her hair and it all falls to a few inches below her shoulders. She’s watching me, cheeks flushed with slight purple marks beneath her eyes that shows she’s either nervous, or turned on.
Either way, she’s exhausted.
As she shakes out her hair, a quiet groan escapes her parted, pale lips and it’s my undoing.
I go to her, two quick strides to erase the space between us, and she neither backs away or moves forward. Her hands stay in her hair, massaging her scalp until I reach her.
My hands find hers and I take over, brushing her hands away. “Let me do this.”
I’ve dreamed of what her hair would feel like in my hands. All that color. All her vibrancy shown in strands of hair shouldn’t be so damn sexy but it’s Gigi, so it is.
“I should shower,” she says, moaning as I massage her scalp, her neck. If I could turn her around and do the same for her shoulders, I would but that would also mean removing her shirt. Thinking of her in her shower while she’s fully dressed in front of me makes me bite back my own groan.
What is it about this girl? She’s so damn different—
I squeeze my eyes closed and tamp down that train of thought. This isn’t about Madison. Or me searching for different.
“You’re tired.”
She nods, her head collapsing against my chest. “And I reek like beer and a whole host of nasty things.”
“You smell like apples.”
It must be her shampoo because the more I play with her hair, the more the scent wafts into the air.
She laughs and warm breath skates across my chest through my shirt.
“Come on. Let’s get you to bed. It’s late.”
“Early.”
“Whatever.” I slide my hands down her arms until I have both her hands in mine. She tips her head up, smiling sleepily up at me and blinks.
“You don’t have to be the nice guy here, hotshot. In fact, I think I might prefer it if you weren
’t.”
Challenge accepted. “How about the first time you see me not being a nice guy is a time when you’re not about to collapse on your feet. Like in the morning, after a decent night’s rest.”
“Well when you put it that way. Follow me.” She winks and a laugh bursts from my chest. She lets go of one of my hands and tugs on mine still holding hers until she’s holding my hand and dragging me to her room. With her ass in front of me, the white threads dangling down from her frayed denim shorts are a beacon to my eyes.
God, she’s sexy. I could palm her entire ass with one hand and I have to bite down on my lip so I don’t actually do what I want and maybe bite her.
Tiny but mighty. My guess, physically as much as internally.
“I have extra toothbrushes in the bathroom in a bucket by the sink. You can go first if you’d like while I clear off a spot for you on the bed.”
“Thanks.” Another laugh. Another smile. It feels like I haven’t done it in years and around Gigi I can’t stop.
She moves to pull away from me, but I yank her back to me. Surprise shows on her face right before I lower my mouth to hers and slip my tongue inside.
I keep the kiss slow and gentle despite the need inside me threatening to take her up on her offer to not be a nice guy. It’s ingrained in me to be a gentleman, but in the bedroom, I like taking the lead.
She’ll learn.
I release her, running my thumb beneath her bottom lip when her eyes slowly flutter open. Before she’s fully back to the present, I head to the bathroom. It’s a small room with a shower, possibly sized just for Gigi. The showerhead alone would only hit my shoulders. I dig through one of the bins she mentioned and come back with a hot pink toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste. I splash cold water on my face and when I open the door, it takes me a second to realize I’m in the same apartment.
Or perhaps this is another magical porthole.
“You done?” Gigi asks. She comes around the corner wearing a tank top so thin I could tear it apart in two seconds and shorts so damn short she’s leaving barely anything to the imagination. She might be petite, but her hips are fucking perfect.
“What’d you do, throw it all out the window?”
The room where I’d barely been able to see anything before is now almost spotless.
“You’re going to have to stop giving me so much shit for my housecleaning habits. I’ll find your weakness and won’t let up either.”
She pokes me in the chest, but I’m faster. I grab her finger and kiss the tip. “Deal. But seriously?”
“I do have dressers and a laundry basket. Most of it was dirty. Get in bed. I’ll be right there.”
“Yes, ma’am.” No better words have been spoken to me in a long time.
Chapter Nineteen
Gigi
I am about to climb into bed with Sebastian Hendrix.
I’m still spinning from this wild and crazy turn of events, but dang… what a great life I’m currently leading.
In the bathroom, I make quick work of scrubbing off my makeup and moisturizing. I brush my teeth and forego flossing even though I’m pretty obsessive about clean teeth, odd considering I’m not obsessive about anything non-teeth related.
Although, I can always buy more clothes. My teeth are the only ones I have. Grinning like a maniac into the mirror, I make sure my teeth are pearly white clean.
There’s a high possibility I’m about to turn out of my bathroom, catch sight of Sebastian in my bed, and then collapse onto the floor in the blink of an eye.
He’s staying. And he’s thought of me.
And he kissed me! Kisses that are absolutely delicious, make my body sing like I was at the Opera.
Oh dear. If I don’t get out of the bathroom now, he’s either going to come see if I passed out from sleep or worse, he might already be asleep.
I throw open the door so quick I have to jump back before it scrapes over my toes. It slams against the wall and I throw out my hand so it doesn’t bounce back and smack me in the face.
“Everything okay?”
“Yup.”
Not a freaking chance. Sebastian took to heart me telling him to climb into my bed.
Oh dear sweet baby Jesus in a manger, he’s here. Sprawled out on top of the covers with nothing but a pair of skintight and short boxer briefs in sight except for the muscles. A beautiful light fan of hair over his pecs that thins to one trail down his belly and beyond. His arms are thrown behind his head giving me the best display possible of his arms and that beard of his. His whole face turned in my direction, one brow arched while I stand in my doorway like a freaking fool, totally checking him out.
“Nervous?”
“Nope.” Hell yes. He’s too much. Too kind. Too hot. Too sweet. Too grouchy.
His lips lift, top one disappears beneath his mustache and his teeth are just as white as mine. I’d happily bet some serious money some are fake, but they’re still pretty.
“Georgia.”
Him using my real name snaps me out of my lustful viewing and I glare at him. “Gigi. I’m coming, you just surprised me. I wasn’t expecting to see… so much of you.” I throw out my arm to gesture all that’s him and earn a deep, throaty chuckle in response.
It makes my knees wobble. To prevent having my fear come true and collapsing to the floor, I hurry to the bed, lift the sheets and dive under them. Like a complete idiot, I tuck them close to my sides and flap down my arms.
“Nothing’s going to happen tonight,” Sebastian says, and I can feel him moving on the bed and hear him getting closer.
I blink and then he’s there, looming over me, propped up on one arm, his palm to his cheek, and that beard is so close.
I want to tug on it. Bring him closer. Throw inhibitions out the window.
It’s not so easy. Over the last couple of months, Sebastian has become a good friend to me.
“Why not?”
He glances down at my mouth, smile turning up the edges of his lips. His free hand slides over my arm that’s plastered to my bed like I’ve been poured in quick-set cement.
“Because you’re lying here like you’ve been frozen and I told you, I want us well-rested. You seem nervous and I am too.”
“You… you… you’re nervous?”
He chuckles and leans down and that brush of his beard over my cheek does crazy things to the synapses in my brain. Pretty sure if I had an MRI I’d be lit up like a Christmas Tree extravaganza.
“Gigi. I started dating Madison when we were fifteen. She’s the only woman I’ve ever been with and you might not like me saying her name or bringing her up, especially not now or here, in your bed, but yeah… as much as I’ve thought about doing things with you over the last couple of weeks, trust me, I’m nervous.”
“I don’t mind you bringing her up.”
His eyes narrow and I press my hand to his cheek. My thumb brushes along his scruff and toward his mouth before I sweep it back. God. I love a man with a well-groomed beard.
“I don’t,” I repeat, because he’s looking at me like he wants to argue. “She’s part of you and you’ve known her forever. Yeah, in my bed isn’t the greatest place, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear. You’ve gone through a lot, and don’t get me wrong, I’m freaking glad you’re here, but I get it. I’m only nervous because you showing up tonight and all that’s happened since then has totally surprised the hell out of me.”
The lines around his beautiful green eyes loosen and he blinks. After adjusting so he’s under the covers, he rolls toward me and opens his arms. “Come here, Georgia.”
I huff and listen, tucking my forehead where his throat meets his shoulder. He’s so warm and whatever cologne he wears smells so damn good, I settle in closer, pressing my hands to his chest.
“You feel good next to me,” I murmur and earn a brief chuckle from him.
“I like being next to you.”
And my heart melts into a puddle.
We talk ab
out his games and the upcoming week while he plays with my hair. It’s whispered words, brief touches and kisses, and yet this feels so much more intimate than a night of bodies pressed together. He tells me about his family back in Minnesota, about his sisters and their kids. I tell him about my mom, and as the sun begins to make its way to the horizon, I close my eyes and we fall asleep.
* * *
Warm lips followed by the scruff of a beard along my jaw bring me to life the next morning. I don’t have to open my eyes to know Sebastian is next to me, or what he’s looking for. I lie still, allowing him to kiss and tease me with his mouth while his hand stays still at my hip. It appears we’ve barely moved at all in our sleep but instead of being on my side facing him like the last time I remember, I wake on my back, with his body pressed down the length of my side.
Sebastian’s hand begins its own exploration and slides to my stomach while his mouth travels south to my shoulder and collarbone.
I shiver, unable to fight again any longer and feel the curve of my lips lifting.
“Mmm. Good morning.” I turn my head away, giving him easier access.
“It’s definitely a good morning.”
My body responds to his words, his touch, the warmth of his mouth on my skin, teasing and warming me oh so slowly. His hand at my stomach slides across, down, beneath my tank and as his flesh presses to mine, expectation ignites down my spine.
“Sebastian.”
“Stop me if I go too fast.”
“There’s no such thing. Trust me.”
“Trust me, I’m afraid I could go too fast.”
I laugh and turn my head so I’m facing him and slide my fingers into his hair. Giving his silky, messy locks a tug, I bring his face to mine. “We’ll deal with it if that happens.”
“Like hell, it will,” he practically growls and presses his lips to mine. “I’ll manage.”
He kisses like he’s been starved for me, like he’s been waiting for hours for me to awaken just so he can taste me and taste me he does. He leaves no part of me untouched as he takes my mouth and begins exploring my body in earnest.