Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (105 page)

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Authors: Violet Duke

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary, #General, #Collections & Anthologies, #Romance

BOOK: Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection
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“God, Gabby, my cock is so hard, I’m gonna come.”

We finally climax together and sink to the floor, exhausted and breathless, each of us seeking the calm after our sensual storm.

“That was amazing, Gabby.”

Barely having the strength to speak, I just nod my head, my eyes requesting permission to close for a much needed rest. A few minutes go by and I’m finally able to pull myself together long enough to mumble, “I should get going.”

“Don’t go, Gabby. I’d really like you to stay.”

“I’d love to, but I have an early meeting tomorrow morning.” Gathering my clothes off the floor, I make my way to the bathroom to dress. Digging around the cabinets, I’ve opened five before I actually find a washcloth. As my hand is cleaning between my thighs, I’m reminded of when Clark did this for me in his gentle, sweet way. This couldn’t be more different. My knees start to give out and I suddenly feel faint, needing to lean against the shower door to try to hold myself up.

After several minutes I hear Dane calling. “Gabby, you okay in there?”

“Yeah. I’ll be out in a minute.” I latch onto the sink and look in the mirror, staring blankly. Blank is exactly how I feel. Putting myself back into my pre-sex state, I walk out to find Dane waiting for me by the door.

He eyes me like a tiger. “Thanks for tonight, Gabby. I had a really nice time.”

Thanks for the wall sex, you mean. “So did I, Dane. Thank you.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

 

 

WHY DO MONDAYS always suck? I feel like I never catch a break. This particular Monday happens to be the morning after my wall sex, and I wake up to a stomach that feels like it’s being stabbed with an ice pick. I hold onto it and run to the bathroom. My best guess is the brown butter scallops. Thanks, Dane. Standing over the toilet, heaving and freezing cold is not the way I pictured today. After my stomach is completely emptied and I feel a bit better, I manage to call and let Robby know I won’t be coming to work today. Then I slide back under the fabric of my sky blue comforter and drift off.

Hours later, I awaken to the buzz of my phone. In my sleepy haze, I almost knock it off the nightstand. It’s Brad.

“Hey, Gabby.”

Half-asleep, I try to sit myself up on the bed. My throat is hoarse and extremely sore from all the vomiting. “Hey, Brad.”

“You don’t sound so good, are you okay?” He seems concerned.

I lie back down. “I’m not feeling well.”

“What’s wrong?” He sounds a bit anxious actually.

“I’ve got a stomachache and chills and I’ve been throwing up all morning.”

“How about some chicken noodle soup?”

“What?” The thought of eating anything right now doesn’t appeal to me.

He speaks softly. “I’ll bring you some soup.”

“Really, Brad, you don’t have to do that.” I know I won’t be able to eat it, but I don’t want to offend him.

“I want to. Is there anything else you need? Crackers? Ginger ale?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in a flash.”

“Let me guess, superhero flight?”

He laughs. “Nah, my cape’s at the cleaners. See you soon.”

I slowly sit up again and try to breathe. My hair is stuck to my face with a mix of sweat and vomit. I stumble out of bed and head for the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I’m greeted by a pale face and droopy eyes. How attractive. I take a quick shower to wash all the nastiness off, then dry myself, put some deodorant on, and run a brush through my wet hair. What’s the matter with me? It’s Brad, for heaven’s sake. Yes, it’s Brad. Better brush my teeth, too.

I replace my bathrobe with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. And a bra. The least I can do is not look like a granny when he gets here. Forty-five minutes later, the doorbell rings and there he is, adorable sunken dimple and all. His hair is messy and he’s breathing heavy. He’s holding a brown paper bag and a two liter bottle of ginger ale.

“Hi,” I stammer.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” he asks breathlessly.

“A little better, thanks. Did you run a marathon to get here? You look exhausted.”

He bends over and places his hands on his knees to try and catch his breath. “I was just concerned about you. You sounded pretty awful on the phone.” He sets the bag and ginger ale down on the kitchen counter.

“Thanks. I really appreciate it. I’d ask you to stay, but I don’t want to infect you.” Oh no. My stomach starts rolling and I hear the toilet calling me like a scrubbing bubbles commercial.

“Gabby, you’re pale. Are you okay?” His eyes are full of worry.

“I…feel…” I make it to the bathroom just in time. Brad follows after me and the next thing I know, he’s holding my hair back as the remainder of my stomach ends up in the toilet. So much for brushing my teeth. Now I’ve thrown up in front of him. Way to go, Gabby. I cover my mouth so I don’t offend him even more. “This could top the Tom Cruise incident. I’m really sorry, Brad.”

He laughs and tucks my hair behind my ear, rubbing small, calming circles around my back. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s all part of the job description, Lois.”

“You know Brad, you’ve got a serious superhero obsession. Have you thought about getting help for that?”

He smirks. “Tread lightly, Gabby. Remember who’s holding your hair back.”

When I open my mouth to laugh, the smell is offensive and I close it quickly.

Brad helps me up and over to the sofa, then wraps me in a blanket. Running back to the bathroom, followed by the kitchen, he gets me a cold washcloth for my head and some ginger ale. He sits by my side and presses the cool washcloth to my head. It feels good.

With heavy eyelids, I begin to drift. The last thing I think I remember is a warm kiss being pressed to my forehead.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

 

 

IT’S A BEAUTIFUL MORNING in New York City and I’m not nauseous. What a difference a day makes. I forgot to close the curtains last night, and the sun is filtering through them. Wait a minute. How did I get to my bed? The last thing I remember is being on the sofa. Brad must have carried me in here. Oh my God, he’s been in my bedroom! I look around, suddenly thankful that I didn’t leave any bras on the floor. As I hop out of bed, I’m also extremely grateful for a settled stomach and feeling like myself again. All is right with the world. Fran left a note to meet her at the coffee shop, so I hit the shower. I try to get the image of Brad in my messy bedroom out of my mind, letting my thoughts drift to Dane and those eyes. I can’t wait to screw…I mean
see
him again tonight. Well, if nothing else I’ll be able to add him to my list. Wow, that sounds bad. Crazy, mind-blowing, no strings sex with a hot guy. Okay, maybe not
that
bad.

On the way to the shop I pass by a couple of corner markets with flowers outside. One in particular catches my eye. They have pink lilies. I pick up a bouquet for Fran and run inside to pay for them. I notice small packages of Swedish Fish at the register, so I get a couple of those, too. For me.

Fran beats me to The Brew House by a few minutes, and when I get there she is chatting up Brad behind the counter. No surprise there. He’s cute and she’s like a moth to a flame. For some reason the idea of Fran and Brad doesn’t sit well with me, regardless of her relationship with Kyle. Brad’s eyes meet mine and he flashes those pearly whites. Shake it off, Gabby. There are more important things to think about, like green eyes and a giant…

I hand Fran the flowers and her mouth drops open in surprise.

“What’s the occasion?”

I smile sweetly. “You’re the occasion.”

She grabs me and hugs me hard. “Best friend
ever
.”

I eye the glass display case for something sweet. A chocolate chip muffin will do the trick. “Brad, can I also have a chocolate chip muffin?” I look over at Fran. “Do you want anything else?”

“No, I’m good.”

We grab a booth and plop down. I’m waiting for Fran to say something, which takes all of about three seconds. “Gabby, every time I see him, he gets cuter and cuter, and that dimple is simply luscious. Can you set us up?”

“What about Kyle?” I say with a raised eyebrow.

Fran looks around the shop. “Kyle who?”

“Very funny. I don’t even know whether he has a girlfriend or not.”

“Girlfriend? I highly doubt that, with the amount of time he spends with you.” My face feels a bit tingly at the thought. “Anyway, who cares about that. I just want one night.”

With a look of feigned revulsion, I knee her under the table. “Jesus, Fran, keep it in your pants, will you!” I pause for a second with teasing eyes. “So, guess who had her first wall sex ever?”

A loud cackle escapes her mouth; I know it’s not as novel to her as it is to me. “So, which do you prefer, wall or bed?” she asks excitedly.

“Well, wall was interesting, but a little too hard for my liking. I choose bed.”

Fran snickers. “Oh, I’m sure it was a lot hard.”

In mid-laugh, I notice something on her wrist. It’s gold and very sparkly. Grabbing her wrist, my curious eyes meet hers. “What’s this?”

She touches the bracelet with a shy smile. “Kyle gave it to me.”

My mouth drops open. “What? When?”

“Last night,” she says, with a blast of color making her cheeks rosy.

I can’t seem to close my mouth. “Fran, it’s beautiful.”

She moves closer to me in the booth. “He’s really something, Gabby. He really gets me, you know, and I can be myself with him. When I told him about my dad he was so understanding and supportive. He didn’t say a word…he just held me. And for the first time, I’m not embarrassed about my scars. He’s always kissing them and telling me that they’re a part of me, and he loves all my parts.”

I do a double take. “Did you just say love?”

She sighs heavily. “It’s just a figure of speech, Gabby. You know what I mean.”

Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I pull her to me. “I’m so happy for you, Fran. That’s exactly what you deserve.”

We finish our drinks and start to leave when I pause. “Fran, give me a second, okay?” I motion to Brad. He walks over and my eyes meet his. “I just wanted to say thank you for…holding my hair back yesterday.”

Brad’s sincere eyes caress my face. “Gabby, you don’t have to thank me.” He smiles. “I enjoyed it, actually, and I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”

“Well, I am, and I really appreciate you coming over and you know, not being grossed out by my vomiting and all.”

He laughs. “I didn’t say I wasn’t grossed out. Besides, I’m starting to notice we have this bonding thing over toilets.”

The corner of my lips turn up. “Gee, thanks for that reminder; I appreciate it. I’ll see you later.” Brad’s expression changes instantly. His eyes look a bit sad and I’m not sure why, I did just thank him and all. “You alright, Brad?”

He slowly turns away, waving the back of his hand at me as he starts for the back of the shop, his voice sounding distant. “Yeah, fine. See ya, Gabby.”

Fran and I leave the shop and I can see the wheels spinning. “What was that all about?”

I start twisting the ends of my hair and shifting on my feet. “You knew I was home sick yesterday. When you were at Kyle’s last night, Brad came over and took care of me. I just wanted to thank him.”

With raised eyebrows, Fran responds, “Reallllly?”

“What?”

“Gabby, you’re doing that twirling thing with your hair, and you’re fidgeting.”

“Yeah, so?” I choke out, a bit frustrated.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

 

* * * * *

 

ROBBY’S IN RARE FORM today. He’s practically skipping around the office, raving about happy clients and fabulous new furniture. “Good morning, Gabby dahling.”

“Good morning, Robby.”

“How are you?”

“I’m okay, you?”

He shakes his head back and forth. “When am I going to hear
great
come out of those fabulous lips of yours? I want to hear that you’re doing fantastic, splendid, marvelous!” Robby’s always so optimistic–he wants everyone to be as happy as he is.

“I’m working on it.”

“Well, as long as it’s a work in progress, sweetheart, it’s all good.”

I go back to dealing with the overwhelming sticky note parade marching across my desk. My cell phone rings and quickly transports me from post-it hell.

“Hello, beautiful,” a low, husky voice calls from the other end.

“Hey, Dane.”

His voice springs up. “I’ve been thinking about you all day and wondering if I could see you tonight?”

“Sure, that sounds great. What did you have in mind?”

“Why don’t we go over to the Sky Bar and have a couple of drinks first, and then come back to my hotel? Sound good? Do you want to meet up at say seven?”

Ooh, we’re actually going somewhere other than his hotel! “Great, Dane. See you then.”

Immediately, I call Fran. “Hey!”

“Hey, sweetie! What’s up?”

“Dane and I are going to the Sky Bar tonight. Do you and Kyle want to come?”

“Kyle’s taking me to dinner, but maybe we’ll swing by after.”

“Cool. Hope to see you later.”

 

* * * * *

 

I’M PACING NERVOUSLY around my room trying to get dressed for tonight. It’s kind of ridiculous since we’ve already had sex many times, and I should be broken in by now, but I still want to impress the guy with something besides my sexual prowess. Meeting in public is exciting and a little scary. I mean, couples go out for drinks…oh well, I know we’ll end up in bed anyway. I try and shake my anxiety when my phone rings. I smile; it’s Brad.

“Hey!” He sounds so enthusiastic and I can actually see his dimple.

“Hey!” I respond with the same level of excitement.

He chuckles. “I just said that.”

I’m laughing inside. “You’ve got jokes, I see.” Grabbing my heels, I sit on the bed and slide them on, then walk over to my dresser and dig in my jewelry box for my gold earrings. I shoulder the phone to my ear and walk to the bathroom to brush my hair. I’ve become very good at multi-tasking. Must be all those sticky notes.

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