by Karen Renee
“Get up here, woman. Thank God I brought three condoms with me last night.”
She let me go. “Gabe, I’m fine—”
I curled forward and grabbed her under her arms, then twisted so I was on top. “I know how fine you are, Cassandra. But I want us both to get off this morning.”
Her eyes slid to the side for a moment. “Well, who am I to argue with that?”
18
Emergencies Only
Cassie
IT WAS JUST AFTER SIX when I walked out to my car. As I approached, I noticed Gabe leaning against my vehicle.
I smiled. “What on earth are you doing here, Gabe?”
He straightened and sauntered toward me. “I’m taking you out.”
I looked down at myself. “Won’t I be overdressed?”
“No,” he answered, and I noticed he was wearing khakis and a dress shirt.
“Where are we going?”
He grinned and winked at me. “Won’t be a surprise if I tell you, Cassie.”
I laughed. “Fine, but am I following you?”
He dipped his chin and gave me a reproachful look. “Nope. I’m driving.”
We walked to his truck, and he opened the door for me to get in.
I arched a brow. “No offense, Gabe, but I’m unaccustomed to you being so chivalrous.”
He shook his head. “Whatever. And you owe me a kiss before you get in.”
I smirked. “Is that so?”
“Woman, you love me, so don’t act like you don’t.”
My smirk shifted to a smile and I pushed up on tiptoes to kiss him. He hooked me at my waist and took his time kissing me. I pulled my lips away before things turned into a full-blown make-out session.
Gabe started up his truck, and as he motored toward I-4, he asked, “Good day at work?”
I sighed. “I guess. I’m just happy it’s Friday. So... where are we going? And don’t you have to work tonight?”
“Wow. You really don’t do surprises, do you?”
I shrugged. “I like them, but I hate not knowing what’s going on.”
He smiled at me, reached over, and squeezed my thigh. “You’ll live, sweetheart.”
I chuckled. “You’re right, but I’d live happier if you told me where we’re going.”
After two squeezes, he put his hand back on the steering wheel. “You been to the Ritz-Carlton near Sea World?”
I looked at him. “Uh, no.”
He chuckled. “Good. We’re not going there.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Then why in the world did you bring it up?”
He grinned at the windshield. “Because we’re going next door.”
I kept staring at him. “Say what?”
He glanced at me and back to the road. “You heard me, Daughtry. A club owner had a complimentary stay at the Marriott next to the Ritz. It includes dinner at their Italian restaurant, and breakfast at some place on the property. So, since you can’t abide a surprise, that’s where we’re headed.”
I shook my head. Then I looked at him askance. “We’re staying at the hotel?”
He grinned. “Yeah. Which is good. We can have more than one bottle of wine at dinner and we get to have multiple rounds of hotel sex. And if you’re good, we’ll rent a movie later.”
I suddenly realized the type of movie he meant. I grinned and turned to him. “So, we’re going order a film with some bow-chick-a-bow-wow?”
“Cassandra, you’re cute, but you know better. You might not be able to call my dick a dick, but surely you can call pornography a porno.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Now that I’m acquainted with your cock, I can call it whatever I choose. I don’t have anything against porno, I just like the musical reference. Figured a musician such as yourself would understand that.”
“Honey, I haven’t played an instrument in ages.”
I wobbled my head. “I would argue the turntables are nearly an instrument of their own. I mean, early rap wouldn’t exist without someone knowing their way around them, right?”
He nearly snorted. “Did you do that on purpose? ‘Turntable’... ‘knowing their way around them?’ Seriously?”
I laughed. “I didn’t even realize. Sorry. But, no joke, I suspect your musical background helps you more than you realize with your DJ gigs.”
He nodded, while he veered off the Interstate. “Hadn’t thought of it like that, but you’re right. My mixes are tight because of that. But don’t think you’ve changed the subject. You need to think about what your preference is, so we order accordingly.”
I laughed, but felt the heat in my cheeks. “Gabe, you are crazy.”
We were stopped at a red light, so he looked at me with a lopsided smile on his face. “Like you didn’t know.”
He surprised me by leaning in and kissing me. I expected a quick peck, but he slipped in a fair amount of tongue action before the car behind us honked because the light had changed.
IT WASN’T UNTIL WE were close to the check-in counter when I noticed Gabe held two duffel bags in his hand. I looked harder and realized one was my own bag from my closet.
“Gabe, how did you get my bag from my apartment?” I asked.
His stride slowed momentarily as he glanced at me. He recovered, and muttered, “I have my ways, Cassandra.”
“Your ways,” I muttered to myself, wondering how he got into my apartment. Then I realized I’d given him a key, but that was for emergencies.
I stopped in the middle of the lobby and crossed my arms on my chest. “Gabriel Sullivan, I gave you that key for emergencies only.”
He turned, and the way he moved his body stole my attention.
“Taking you on our first official date damn sure qualifies as an emergency in my book, Cassandra. Even Brock and Cecilia agreed,” he murmured as he closed the distance between us.
My tongue darted out to my lips, and I heard him groan.
“Don’t you agree, Daughtry?”
I blinked. “I suppose. But, did you pack my bag?”
He laughed, and I got an up-close and personal look at his straight teeth.
When he had his laughter in check, he said, “No. Dragged, and I do mean I dragged, Cecilia with me. She packed your bag. So, no worries about that.”
I fought arching a brow at him because Cecilia and I were chatty, but I wouldn’t call us close which meant it was up in the air as to whether she’d done me right in the packing department. Something about her told me she could be meddlesome, and I suspected she wanted me and Gabe to be together. All of that meant, for all I knew she packed no pajamas for me and instead threw in a negligee or something.
Even though we stood in the middle of the lobby, Gabe wrapped an arm around my waist and planted a long kiss on me. When he pulled away, I found my hand hooked around his neck and my vision was murky.
He grinned. “Now, let’s check-in before we lose our dinner reservation.”
My head reared back. “What? When is our reservation?”
“Eight-thirty, but I got plans for you before then, darlin’.”
His words made my belly flip, but I shook my head at him even though I didn’t mean it.
If his smile was any indicator, I wasn’t fooling him in the slightest.
NOBODY ELSE HAD CONVINCED me that ‘quickies’ had a time and a place, but hell if Gabe hadn’t brought me around in more ways than one. That thought tumbled around my head as I applied my burgundy lipstick.
It so happened Cecilia had packed well for me. My wrinkle-resistant black cocktail dress was on the top, and beneath it was my satin pajama set. At the bottom of my bag, I found my favorite black high heels. She had also included a thong and a matching sheer bra I hadn’t worn in over a year.
I had left the bathroom door cracked, and Gabe gently pushed it open. “You ready to go yet, doll-face?”
My dad only called me things like ‘sweetie’ or ‘honey’ and nobody ever called me something as cute as ‘doll-face,’ and deep down, I
loved it.
I capped my lipstick and gave him a smile. “Sure am.”
Gabe
OUR DRINKS HAD JUST been delivered. As Cassie took a sip, I asked, “Were you able to change your mother’s ring tone? Or do I need to get Robert to handle that?”
A bashful smile lit her face. “No. I changed my mind. Our relationship is dysfunctional already. I don’t need to make that worse.” She sipped her wine, and when she set her glass down there was a light in her eyes. “What about you? Have you spoken to your Mom lately?”
I shot her a closed lip smile. “Not yet, but Dad sent me her phone number. I’ll need to find out more about the money, and when or if we have to meet with a lawyer.”
She nodded. “What are you going to do with the money? You never did show me, the other morning when we were headed to your place.”
I grinned at the memory. It wasn’t comfortable running into an ex, but I’d always be grateful Fallyn came looking for me. If she hadn’t, Cassie and I would probably still be dancing around each other.
“You’re right. We didn’t get that far. Maybe I’m superstitious, but I’m thinking I’ll keep it under my hat for now.”
She twisted her lips to the side for a moment, then she said, “Speaking of mothers, does your mother’s absence have something to do with you hitting college late?”
I shook my head and tried to keep the bitterness out of my tone. “No. It doesn’t.”
The look she gave me indicated I had failed with my tone. “There’s a story there,” she muttered.
I grabbed her hand resting on top of the table. “We shouldn’t be having such a heavy conversation tonight.”
Her head wobbled. “No, but when else would we have it?”
I brought her hand up and kissed the back of it. “I don’t know.”
“Did you try to get into any other music programs after —”
“No. I moved to New York, even though Juilliard gave me the snub. Spent time waiting tables, hitting auditions. Trying to get into jam sessions, but I didn’t always know when there’d be a session open to just anybody.”
She nodded, and I continued. “Then I tried busking and nearly got arrested.”
“What?” she cried, trying to snatch her hand back.
I gave her hand a squeeze, and lowered my voice so we wouldn’t draw any more attention. “Yeah. A guy tried to steal my tips and my horn. It got ugly.”
“Oh God,” she whispered.
“Not long after that, I moved to L.A.”
“Really?” she asked sounding impressed.
Excitement hit her eyes, and it made me smile.
“Yeah. Dad has an Army buddy who lives in San Bernardino. He let me crash on his couch for a month while I got my shit together.”
“Did you get started deejaying out there?”
“No,” I said, just as the server arrived with our salads.
Cassie unwrapped her silverware, put the napkin in her lap, and pointed her fork at me. “There’s an ex-girlfriend in this story, isn’t there?”
I grinned. “You’re too smart, Cassie,” to divert her attention, I speared a crouton from her plate, “Eat your food, darlin’. Because this place has some of the best croutons in town, and I will steal yours if you don’t hurry.”
While I ate the crouton, her eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t!”
I swallowed. “Oh, but I would. I don’t fool around about bread or products derived from bread. Surely, you know that.”
19
Best Damn Lie
Cassie
BACK IN OUR ROOM, I sat down at the small table and took off my shoes.
Gabe sat down opposite me and said, “So, Daughtry.”
“Yes?” I asked.
“Can’t believe I never asked you this before, but are you related to J.P. Daughtry? The local millionaire?”
Oh boy, here we go. Normally only nosy old men asked me that. With them, I could brush it off, but with Gabe, that wasn’t an option.
Knowing Gabe’s outlook on women with money, this conversation wasn’t likely to go well.
“I’m surprised you never asked me that, too. But, yeah. He’s my dad.”
His eyes searched mine, trying to figure me out. “That’s the best damn lie you’ve ever told me.”
I stared into his eyes for a moment before I gave him a small smile. “Not a lie, Sullivan.”
His lips turned down, but it wasn’t quite a frown. “So, you don’t need a new roommate, do you?”
I inhaled. “Not financially, but for my peace of mind and mental health, yeah, I do.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Shit.”
I sensed a strange vibe coming from him. I exhaled. “Why do you act like this changes anything?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It shouldn’t, but why didn’t you ever tell me?”
I snorted. “When would I bring it up? And after what you said to Cecilia about no woman puts the roof over your head, why would I?”
“That’s no reason not to tell me.”
“Also, not a reason to tell you. How does it change who I am and who you are to me?”
“You grew up in a mansion.”
I dipped my chin a touch. “No. And if you think that, you don’t know anything about John Daughtry.”
“Bullshit.”
My eyes widened. “Not bullshit. My parents live in a three-bedroom, two-bathroom ranch home in Altamonte Springs. Same house Dad bought before Sera was born. He paid it off, and saves money like a squirrel with the last nut.” I stood up, and finished, “So, no, Gabe. I didn’t grow up in a fuckin’ mansion.”
“You grew up rich,” his voice rose.
I walked around the table. “No. I didn’t. You need to get this damn chip off your shoulder when it comes to women and money.”
He stepped closer to me. “Then, why are you so defensive about growing up rich?”
“Because you make it sound like I’m not the same person I was ten minutes ago.”
His eyes flared, and I expected a retort, but suddenly his lips were on mine and his tongue pushed into my mouth. I tried to pull away, but then I realized his hand was cupping the back of my head.
I twisted my face away. “No way! You’re not going to kiss me silent like Brock does to Cecilia. You’re way the fuck out of line, Gabe. How I grew up doesn’t mean jack—”
Damn him. He kissed me again, but his other arm had wrapped around my waist and he was moving us toward the bed. I pushed my hands between us and slapped at his chest as much as I could with such limited space.
“Gabe, stop it!”
“I am not out of line,” he growled.
I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. Reflexively, I pushed into him and yelled, “The hell you’re not!”
Our faces were inches apart, and I swore I was seeing red. I had no idea what came over me, but something about the anger between us drew me to him. I went up on my toes and put my mouth on his. He brought up both of his hands to cup my cheeks, holding me in place. Our tongues clashed with as much force as our heated words.
I was so pissed, I yanked at his shirt. I pulled at it and heard something snap. He let go of my face, reached down my back, and fisted my dress in his hands. Our mouths disengaged as he pulled the dress over my head. I unfastened the top of his khakis and yanked down the zipper. He wrapped his arms around me and pushed so we landed on the bed hard enough to bounce once.
I shoved at his pants, and rather than help me out, he put both hands into the sides of my thong and he ripped the underwear apart.
“You’re paying for those, Gabe Sullivan!”
“Nope,” he murmured, and his mouth went to my neck where he sucked.
I bucked my hips and tried to push him off me. “Don’t you dare give me a damned hickey! I don’t need a reminder about this awful argument.”
He thrust a finger into me, and I exhaled. The sucking at my neck turned into nipping bites and my legs widened. Vaguely, I noticed one of his hands
was reaching back into his pants, and then I heard his wallet hit the bed. He lifted his head from my neck and focused on getting a condom.
He tore it open with his teeth, and asked, “You down with having sex right now?”
My eyes widened and it was all I could do to hold back my knee-jerk response. If he tried not to have sex with me, I would be even angrier – when I didn’t think such a thing was possible. Finally, I hissed, “Yes.”
His eyes narrowed marginally. “You pissed at me?”
“Of course, I am,” I cried.
He rose to his knees and rolled the condom onto his solid, swollen cock. Before he lowered back down, he ripped his dress shirt off. The room filled with the sound of buttons bouncing off the nightstand and walls. I inhaled sharply because I didn’t expect him to do that.
“Ought to make you pay for that shirt,” he muttered.
“You did that your damn self!”
He lowered his torso onto me. “But you started it with the bottom button, so it’s all your fault, Cassandra.”
I wanted to call bullshit, but his cock plunged into the hilt and all the air in my lungs went with it. When I got my breath back, I said, “It was not my fault.”
“Keep tellin’ yourself that, Cassandra.”
I dragged my fingernails down his back. “Get it straight, Gabe. All of this is your fault.”
He kissed me and our teeth clashed because of his powerful thrusts. I didn’t like being on the bottom, and his accusations pissed me off, too. I brought my hands back up to his shoulders, and on an inward thrust I hooked one leg around his hips and used my other leg as leverage to push him to his back.
I didn’t know if the bed in the room was a California King or what, but luckily, I didn’t roll us right off the bed. My success meant our kiss had ended, and Gabe’s glittering eyes were difficult to read. He might have been happy with the change, but he still seemed peeved.
“Got what you wanted now, Cassandra. You damn well better ride me.”