“I told him he could.”
”Then you must be worried because you’re not supposed to be having sex right now. I don’t think this actually counts, but if you need to talk to your therapist we’ll take you back to Kansas.”
Nikki shook her head. “The reason that video has so many views is not because of anything I did.” Nikki grinned deviously. “Well, okay, I do look pretty sexy riding that thing, and I’m an excellent vocalizer.”
Gabe suddenly needed a pillow. For his lap. And he needed to watch Melanie looking sexy riding the Sex Stallion and doing her own excellent vocalizing right now.
Melanie lifted her eyebrows and shook her head, waiting for Nikki to drop whatever bomb she was holding.
“Everyone wanted to know where to get one of those machines,” Nikki said. “I figured they were all talk. I told them it was a prototype and there was only one in existence. Still, thousands of women and men all vying for an opportunity to own one or at least ride one. And then I got the idea to crowdfund and earn enough money to put the Sex Stallion into production. I set the price to participate super-high—a thousand dollars just to get on the waiting list. Of course, that thousand would count as a down payment and they’d be guaranteed a unit as soon as they were produced. I wasn’t sure how much each machine would cost in the end. I estimated five thousand, and you will not believe how many people were willing to pay that.”
“What are you saying, Nikki?” Gabe said, his heart racing. Cold sweat trickled down the middle of his back.
Melanie turned to stare at him, her face ashen, her mouth open wide.
“We’ve made two million dollars in that past three days.”
“What?” Gabe bellowed.
“But now I sort of need you to make two thousand Stallions.” Nikki smiled hugely, as if she’d given him the best news of his life.
“It took me ten years to build that one and perfect it,” Gabe yelled.
Nikki flinched, but he couldn’t help the rage boiling inside him. Was she crazy? Two thousand units! He was good at math, so he knew that at five thousand apiece he would gross ten million dollars, but still. How in the hell was he supposed to build two thousand of the damned things?
“But it is perfect,” Nikki said. “It’s time to share it with the world.”
Melanie clutched her hands together. “Gabe, please tell me you filed a patent on it.”
“Years ago,” he said.
She released a long breath. “Good. Now, I know you don’t know much about my past careers, but I used to be the office manager for a small manufacturing plant. And I know how to run the business end of things.”
“And I can be the spokes—erm—the moan model,” Nikki said, thrusting her hand in the air like an eager elementary school student.
“She’s an excellent PR person, Gabe.”
“That’s what I went to college for,” Nikki said.
“We’d need a larger team, of course,” Melanie said. “Especially on the manufacturing end, and I don’t know many people in Texas, but—” Her eyebrows drew together. “Doesn’t Owen’s girlfriend run her own alternate energy business in Houston?”
Gabe just stared at her as if she had seventeen nipples.
“Gabe?” Melanie said when he didn’t respond.
“I guess,” he said. “But what does Caitlyn’s corporation have to do with sex toys?”
“Uh, everything,” Melanie said. “It’s not what you’re making or selling but the structure of how to produce and distribute that most businesses have in common. I’ll have to look into business laws in Texas. I’m sure they can’t be that much different from those in Kansas.”
“Isn’t Texas notoriously business friendly?” Nikki said. “I’m sure this will be a piece of cake for you.”
“You’re forgetting something,” Gabe said.
The pair of scheming women turned to look at him, questions in their eyes.
“It’s my invention. What if I don’t want to mass produce it? What if I want only Melanie to have one?”
Melanie laughed. “That’s silly.”
It didn’t seem silly to him. It seemed special. A unique one-of-a-kind gift for his one and only true love.
Nikki popped open her laptop and showed Melanie her crowdsource funding page.
“Holy shit! There’s a waiting list for the waiting list!” Melanie clapped her hands. “Baby,” she said, turning to gaze adoringly at Gabe. “I’m so proud of your filthy, inventive mind right now.”
Gabe had never seen her this excited about anything. Well, maybe when she was enjoying objects designed by his filthy, inventive mind. But definitely not about financial or business success.
“Gabe?” Nikki said, tilting her head to look at him. “Do you not want to give mind-blowing orgasms to all these people? They’re counting on your Sex Stallion to bring them joy.” She sat next to him on the porch swing and showed him the excited comments of people who’d slapped down a thousand dollars of their hard-earned money for a chance to be delighted by his invention.
After a few minutes of having his head filled with compliments about his brilliance, he closed his eyes, licked his lips, and swallowed his doubts. That future he’d been so uncertain about? This could be the answer. He’d never expected Nikki to be responsible for pushing him down a new path of success.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter Sixteen
Melanie pulled into Gabe’s driveway—she still had a hard time thinking of this gorgeous A-frame log home as hers—and shut off her engine. Nikki’s car was gone, but Gabe’s truck was in the drive, so she knew that he was home, even though the door didn’t open and no dogs bounded excitedly off the porch to greet her. She tucked the little paper sack containing the pregnancy test she’d bought at the drugstore into her purse. She was only a few days late, so didn’t want to get Gabe’s hopes up, but hers were currently sky high.
The past few weeks had flown by like a whirlwind. It hadn’t taken her long to file for a business license and organize the corporate structure of Bangin’ Toys. After having been only a small part of a large accounting team for so long, she’d forgotten how much she enjoyed running a business and solving the little problems that always arose. They’d had to deal with some ordinances about the sexual nature of their products, so they’d settled on a location outside city limits. The first units were making their way through their small but highly skilled quality assurance department today. Of course she felt the need to be there to make sure everything was running smoothly. Gabe seemed keen to look the other way, however.
The typical little start-up hiccups weren’t really an issue. The main delay to production was Gabe. He was insistent that they didn’t mass produce a piece of junk. He wanted dedicated artisans creating each machine, not an assembly line of unskilled dildo-makers cranking out a subpar product. She’d tried to convince him that such a labor-intensive method of production would severely cut into their profits—showing him graphs and projections she’d generated to support her cause—but he refused to budge on that particular issue. And she respected him all the more because of it. But it had taken for-freaking-ever to find suitable employees, and they were still grossly understaffed.
Since Nikki was busy creating a PR maelstrom for the first shipments of the Sex Stallion, wedding plans had temporarily been set on the back burner. Caitlyn and Dawn were still throwing together an engagement party for both Gabe and Adam. Now that Madison was out of the hospital and staying with Adam in Austin, Melanie had run out of excuses to put it off any longer. The party was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon at Owen’s house. The day had somehow crept up on Melanie while she’d been insanely busy getting Gabe’s new corporation up and running.
Melanie opened her front door, trying to be quiet so she could sneak into the bathroom and pee on the test in her purse. She was immediately assaulted by a loud rhythmic thumping. The sound—heavy and hard—throbbed through her body with an intensity that only Ga
be could create within her.
He was playing his drums.
She was pretty sure that he hadn’t touched them since the night Jacob had walked off the tour bus almost a month before. Dancing to the beat—she couldn’t help herself—she quietly shut the front door and tried to figure out where the sound was coming from. It filled the house from floor to rafters. Both dogs were sitting in the foyer staring up at the loft area over the kitchen. Oh. Right. The loft. She’d been up in the open spacious room a few times, but had never spent time there. The loft was Gabe’s space, full of various drums, band paraphernalia, scientifically inclined nonfiction books, and the ugliest old recliner she’d ever seen. But drawn by the beat, she climbed the open wooden stairs and stood perched on the topmost step to stare.
Gabe was shirtless. His hair, which had grown out to almost completely cover his tattoos, had been shaved on the sides again. His Mohawk was at least four inches longer than when she’d met him and was fashioned into tall spikes. He wore studded leather cuffs on each wrist and an intense expression as he pounded away on the skins, his entire body—pumping legs, flailing arms—moving to the beat in his mind. A grimace of longing twisted his handsome features into an expression of elemental need.
Watching him—her rock star—play those drums as if a huge piece of him were missing without them made tears spring to Melanie’s eyes. She swallowed the huge lump in her throat, but it did no good. Regret threatened to suffocate her.
What had she done? Barged into his life. Invited her friend to live in his house. Monopolized all his free time. Forced him to start a business he’d had no intention of starting. Turned his attention from making the music he loved to her.
She covered her mouth and said into her palm, “Oh God, I’m sorry.” She’d been so focused on building their new life together that she’d completely steamrolled over the life he loved—the one he’d had before he’d met her.
The drumming stopped abruptly. Gabe slid his drumsticks under his snare as if ashamed that she’d caught him using them.
“I didn’t realize you’d be home so soon,” he said.
“Don’t stop playing on my account,” she said, rubbing wetness from her cheeks with her fingertips. “Please don’t stop.”
“Are you crying?”
She couldn’t stay away. She rushed to his side and wrapped her arms around him, hugging the side of his head to her chest. “You haven’t played since I moved in.”
“It’s noisy,” he said. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”
She laughed, kissing the recently shaved side of his head. “It wouldn’t disturb me. And if it did, I’d just go sit on the porch. You need this, Gabe. This drumming. It’s part of you.”
“Honestly, I haven’t felt like playing. I figured it would just remind me of everything Jacob took from me when the selfish bastard dismembered the band.” He twisted so he could look up into her eyes. “I’d forgotten how fun it is.” He grinned, and her heart melted. “I don’t know if Sole Regret will ever get back together or if I’ll ever play drums professionally again, but I will play them for fun.”
Melanie laughed because the man made her so damned happy, she couldn’t help it. “I’m glad. And I want your band to get back together. I really do.”
“Are you sure? You can tell me the truth. I won’t be upset. I know you don’t buy into the whole rock star gig.” He rolled his eyes at her. “You’re so not impressed.”
But she was impressed. More than impressed. “Watching you play the drums is the most erotic experience I’ve ever had.”
He snorted “More erotic than riding the Sex Stallion?”
“Way more erotic than any sex toy.”
“Sounds like a challenge.” He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at her. “That’s one way to inspire my filthy, inventive mind.”
“Play for me, Gabe,” she said. But then she shook her head and added, “No, play for yourself. Lose yourself in your rhythm. That’s what really turns me on.”
His bass drum thudded, and she jumped. Within seconds his entire body was moving again. She couldn’t look away. Not when her ears began to ache from the loudness. Not when her breathing quickened and her heart started to race. And certainly not when sweat began to trickle down his flexing pecs, abs, and back. As enticing as his lean, muscular body was, it was that look of intense concentration, of love—a look she recognized from their bedroom—as he played that drew her closer and closer until she was close enough to touch him.
Sole Regret needed to get back together. She wasn’t sure why it hadn’t seemed all that important to her until now. Maybe because she simply hadn’t recognized how important it was to Gabe. And if the band was important to him, it was important to her.
Unable to keep her hands to herself another second, she reached out and touched his shoulder. His skin was damp with sweat and cool to the touch, but she could feel the heat just beneath the surface. His concentration shattered, he stumbled over a beat and then lowered his sticks, gathering them into one fist. He wrapped his free arm around the backs of her thighs.
“Are you sufficiently turned on?” he asked. “Or should I continue?”
“You should always continue,” she said. “But this isn’t about me at all. It’s about you. I’m an idiot for not seeing it before. Can you forgive me?”
He cocked his head to one side, confusion written across every devastatingly gorgeous line of his face. “Forgive you? For what?”
“For not trying to help you get the band together.”
“You went with me to talk to Adam, as well as to Jacob and even Amanda.”
“But I didn’t do anything.”
“Baby, that’s not your responsibility.” He set his sticks down on his snare drum, freeing his hand to take hers. “Standing beside me while I sort this shit out, that’s all I require of you.” He lifted her hand to his lips. “And you’ve done a fine job of that. You’ve stood by me through it all.”
“But I want to fix it.”
He laughed softly and kissed her wrist. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t want to fix problems for someone you care about, but the ball is bouncing between Jacob and Adam now. We just have to be patient and hope we aren’t eighty years old before they set their differences aside and stop being selfish jackasses.”
She bit her lip, trying to think up a course of action. “There has to be something we can do. Are they both coming to the party tomorrow?”
Gabe shrugged, his gentle, seeking kisses along the inside of her wrist and palm wreaking havoc with her pulse as well as her ability to keep her hands from trembling.
“I know Adam will be there,” he said. “It’s his party too. Jacob was invited, and I was planning to ask him to be my best man if he comes, but I’m not sure if he’ll show.”
“He’d better come,” she said, and it sounded like a threat. Because she knew if Jacob bailed on their engagement party, his indifference would hurt Gabe, even if Gabe somehow managed to hide his feelings.
“If he doesn’t, I’ll just ask one of the other guys to stand up with me. It’s no big deal.”
But it was a big deal. And she planned to make sure the right person was her groom’s best man when Gabe pledged his forever to her. If that person was Jacob “Ego-Maniac” Silverton, so be it.
“So,” she said, hoping that a subject change would wipe the melancholy from her lover’s face. “Is there any way to make love while drumming?”
He bit his lip. “Make love?” He shook his head. “Doubtful. Fuck? Oh yeah. I can definitely fuck while drumming. Do you think you could handle the bass?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “What do I have to do?”
He shifted his stool back and stood, wrapping his fingers around her hips and arranging her in front of him facing the drum kit. He moved in close behind her, rubbing the hard bulge in his pants against her ass while his hands slid up her sides to cup her breasts.
“There are three pedals on the floor in front of you,”
he said. “Step on one.”
Distracted by the feel of his body behind her and the exertion-intensified masculine scent of him—the man smelled like sex, and her hormones were raging in response—she wasn’t sure where the floor was, much less the three pedals. When she didn’t move, he nudged her side with his elbow.
“Go on now. I won’t be able to drum, fuck, and hit the bass pedal. You have to help me out.”
She liked being helpful. She looked down, and beyond the snare drum in front of her knees, she spotted the pedals he’d mentioned. “I don’t think I can reach them. There’s a drum in my way.”
“Good point,” he said. “And your pants are in my way.”
She unfastened her pants and shimmied out of them, her flip-flops, and her underwear before kicking them all aside. “One problem solved.”
His soft chuckle near her ear made her shiver with anticipation. One of his hands massaged her breast, the other moved down her belly to cup her sex. A finger slipped between her lips to tease her clit.
“I also can’t drum with my hands full of glorious Melanie,” he whispered.
“I guess this idea is a no-go then,” she said, leaning back against him and opening her legs to give him better access. That
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