Managed:a VIP novel(42)

With a suppressed sigh, I run a hand through my hair. Still rose gold,  it falls in waves to the tops of my shoulders. A small line of darker  blond roots shows. I'll have to pick another color soon, but at the  moment, I'm just tired.

"Fine, I'll go," I tell Brenna. "But I'm doing so under protest."

She smiles. "So noted. And look, about Scottie … "

"Don't worry," I cut in, not liking the pity in her eyes. "I'm over it."

"No, you aren't." She shakes her head, smiling softly. "But that's okay.  He's … well, yes, he can be an ass, but he's one of the best people I  know. Behind all that starch is a marshmallow who any one of us would  kill for."

I slump against the counter. "I know that. Too well, unfortunately. It's  just the asshole part is getting in the way at present. How do you let  yourself care for someone who won't let you in?"

Brenna's pretty face closes up, and she makes a production of quickly  putting her makeup back in her travel case. "I think we'd all be happier  if we knew the answer to that question."

"Hell. Let's just go back to ‘men can suck it' and leave it at that for now."

Brenna laughs. "Yeah, except part of the problem is that we love it when men suck it."

"True."

Laughing together, we head out for the venue. And I pretend the whole  way that I'm not both dreading and anticipating seeing Gabriel again.

Having worked multiple concerts at this point, I know the places he  haunts backstage and how to avoid him. That doesn't stop me from  catching glimpses of his sharp, stern profile now and then. And each  time I do, my stomach cramps, and my heart gives an unruly thump.

I want to look longer, but I know he'll notice me if I do. I swear the  man has a sixth sense that way. Even skulking in the shadows, I can tell  he's scanning the area, a dark scowl on his face. Looking for me? Or  just in his usual work mode? It's hard to tell without studying him for  too long.

And I hate that my awareness is constantly on him. I barely notice the  concert as I tuck myself behind a stack of crates on the far to the side  of the stage. Leaning against a concrete wall, I close my eyes and let  the music pour over me, the pulsing throb of it vibrating my bones.

I don't think I can stand it if Gabriel seeks me out, only to apologize  and expect everything will go back to normal. I cannot go back to what  we were.

Maybe it's because my eyes are closed and my other senses are more  alert, or maybe it's because I'm just that attuned to him, but I feel it  the second Gabriel comes to stand next to me.

I don't have to look to know it's him; even in the dank humidity of  backstage, I catch his scent. And no one else but him makes my skin  tighten and my heartbeat go into overdrive just by being near.

He stands so close, my shoulder blade brushes against the sleeve of his jacket.

Keeping my eyes closed, I swallow hard and try to remain passive. My  body betrays me, sending happy little zings of pleasure through my chest  and along my skin.

I'm pissed at him, yet it doesn't stop me from thinking, Finally, you're here. What took you so long?

We stand there, listening to "Apathy," neither of us moving, even though  the crowd is going wild. The song ends, and Jax and Killian begin to  talk about a new song they're going to play.

Backstage, it's quiet enough that I hear Gabriel when he speaks, his words stilted as if he's forcing each one out.

"I am a cold man. Any happiness or warmth I've felt died when Jax tried  to take his life. Until you." His ragged breath gusts over my cheek.  "You are my warmth."

My heart stops, my breath hitching painfully.

His voice gains strength. "The second you are out of my sight, I want you back where I can see you."

I want to turn and tell him I miss him too. All the time.

But then he moves. The tips of his fingers skim the curve of my  shoulder, and I stiffen in shock. We have held each other night after  night, without hesitation or fear. But outside of bed, Gabriel rarely  makes prolonged physical contact.

And this touch isn't friendly or fleeting. It's an exploration, tender  but possessive. My knees go weak, my head falling forward as he caresses  my neck, a slow sweep over my skin as if savoring the moment.         

     



 

His voice is low but powerful at my ear. "If I can see you, know that  you're all right, I can breathe a little easier, feel a little human."

I lean into his touch and he cups my nape, holding me steady. Holding me. I need his touch so much it hurts.

"Then why did you leave me?" My voice isn't strong; I can't seem to find my breath.

His fingers tighten a fraction. Before he can answer, another song  starts up. Music crashes over us, and there is no more talking. I can  only stand there in the dark with Gabriel.

He does not move for a few beats, and then his fingers slide slowly up  into my hair to cradle me. I don't resist when he eases me closer,  turning me into him.

With a sigh, I lean against his side, my head on his shoulder as he massages me with steady strokes.

Unable to help myself, I rest my hand on his firm stomach. A sigh  rumbles through him, and though he does not move, it feels as if his  whole body is melding with mine.

In the dark, we are hidden. Music pulses around us-loud, rhythmic sounds  of angst and rage and defiance-but here there is stillness. I close my  eyes, breathe him in. Fine wool, spicy cologne, the indefinable scent of  Gabriel's body. He is my drug of choice.

When he touches my cheek, all the nerves along my skin prickle with  awareness. He is a man of business and should have smooth hands, but his  skin is slightly rough and very warm.

The tips of his fingers press into my jaw as he tilts my head back. I  catch the the pained look on his face, as though he's hurting, and the  regret, as if he'd do anything to make us right again. His expression  subtly shifts to one of intent.

I can't breathe. Because that look wants to own me. It reaches into my heart and takes hold of it.

And then he bends down. His lips ghost over my cheek, pressing light  kisses along my temple. I clutch the edge of his jacket and hold on.  I'll sink to the floor if I don't. Because Gabriel is touching me as if  he's been aching to all along.

He nips my earlobe, and my body jerks in response, pushing against his. Warm breath tickles my skin.

"I can't leave you, Darling. You're always in here." Gently, he takes my hand and touches it to his head.

With a shiver, I thread my fingers through his hair. It's thick and  silky, and he makes a sound of appreciation, nuzzling my neck with his  nose as he continues to kiss his way around my jaw.

"And you're in here," he tells me, moving my other hand to his chest where his heart pounds against the solid wall of muscle.

"Sunshine," I whisper, turning to kiss his cheek.

A tremor runs through his frame, and his arm wraps tight around my  waist. I kiss him again, finding his jaw. His crisp scent and the  slightly salty taste of his skin make me want more and more. But he's  holding me too close, shaking as he takes increasingly deeper breaths.

The pad of his thumb finds my bottom lip, and my breath stutters as  well. For a long moment, he simply runs his thumb lightly over my lip,  tracing its curve, opening my mouth a bit more. And with every sweep, I  grow hotter, the sound of my blood rushing through my ears.

My lips feel swollen and dry. Without thinking, I lick them and catch the blunt tip of his thumb.

Gabriel grunts, his hand clenching. But he leaves his thumb there,  pressing against my lip, pushing just slightly into my mouth as if  asking for another lick. I taste his skin, suck the tip.

He groans low and deep, his body clenching. His eyes find mine, and the heat in his sears my skin.

We stare at each other, both panting, and then his gaze lowers to my mouth.

"Sophie-"

Someone bashes into us. Gabriel braces, but the spell is broken. He turns to glare over his shoulder.

"Sorry!" a guy in an ill-fitting white suit shouts.

Gabriel straightens, his hand sliding down to cup my elbow. I feel the loss of his body heat acutely.

The guy does a double take and moves closer. "Scottie! Just the guy I've been looking for."

I'm beginning to suspect dude knew exactly who he was bumping into, and  by the grim expression on Gabriel's face, I'm guessing he thinks so as  well.

"Andrew," he says, his voice clear over the music.

Stage lights flicker over Andrew's face, and I realize he's one of the  record executives. I take a step back, knowing the moment is over and  Gabriel needs to talk business. But his clasp tightens, and he turns  toward me with a frown.

"Go work," I tell him.

His frown grows. He shakes his head in refusal.

I squeeze his hand. "I don't want it to be here." Because if he kisses me now, I won't be able to stop-I won't want him to stop.

For a second, I don't think he'll let me go. But then the mask falls in  place, and he gives me a tight nod. I start to move away, but he  suddenly pulls me back, bending down to growl in my ear.