Once inside my apartment, I stripped out of my wet clothes and got under the hot, steamy shower. Tension uncoiled from my muscles as the water streamed over my shoulders and head, and my hand wandered to my semihard cock. This was my last night of being alone. Tomorrow Gabriel would be moving in, and I wondered what having him here with me would be like.
My dick certainly approved, filling out and growing harder as I thought about Gabriel Sachs. Those big hazel eyes glittered like multicolored glass inside a kaleidoscope and missed nothing. I could only imagine all those hard muscles naked and flexing. My breath grew short, and I spread my legs for balance as I continued to touch myself. I hadn’t had sex in so long, it wouldn’t take much to get me off, and picturing Gabriel on top of me, inside me, fucking me until I was wrecked set a match to my gasoline-soaked libido.
“Oh, fuck. Oh,fuck.”
My orgasm slammed hard, and I groaned and watched as I shot into my hand, the creamy essence mixing with the hot water and washing away down the drain. Legs trembling and chest heaving, I fumbled to turn off the jets and rested my heated face against the cool tile wall.
What the hell was up with that? I hadn’t let anyone fuck me since my first. We were young and stupid and had no idea what we were doing. It had hurt so bad, but I figured it was how it was supposed to be.
And when my parents were killed and I was injured, he, like everyone else in my life, faded away. Only Cassie had come to the hospital every day, despite my telling her that she needed to go away to school and not waste her life sitting at my bedside.
“No,” Cassie said, and afraid to touch my heavily bandaged arms, she kissed my cheek. “It’s my turn to take care of you, like you always did for me.”
Once the skin grafts proved safe from rejection and started to heal, she’d listened.
That was what made it so hard to walk away from her. Even now, knowing how she’d screwed me, nothing but grief and sadness filled my heart at the loss of the one person I thought would always be there for me, no matter what.
I couldn’t…Iwouldn’tever admit it to anyone else, but this time around I was truly scared of being alone. Maybe that was part of the reason I hired Gabriel—not so much as a protector, but as someone to be with me when the blackness threatened to take me away.
Chapter Eight
Gabriel
“Well, this is everything. Thanks, Iz, for letting me hang out. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t be stupid. You’re always welcome. Think of this place as yours.” Isaac pushed my duffel toward me with his foot. “I’m still not sure I like this assignment.”
I leaned against the door and crossed my arms. “Why not?” Isaac rarely, if ever, had an opinion or even a comment about who I worked for, except to say “Cool,” so this was unusual, and I wanted to know why.
“Because the guy has to be a shit human being to do what he did, and now you’re getting dragged into his circle, and I don’t like it. You’re a good person, and you shouldn’t have to work for people like him.”
I frowned. “It’s not a personal thing, Iz. He’s not my boyfriend. The guy’s a client like anyone else. When the job’s over, it’ll be over, and I won’t see him again. Like Fontaine.”
His lips curled in a sneer. “That prick? You dodged a bullet with him. Fucking dick thought because he was a ‘rock star’”—Isaac made air quotes, and I hid my grin—“he could say and do whatever he wanted without any repercussions.”
“He was okay before he got into drugs. Fontaine let the fame get to his head, and it ruined him.”
“You never see the shit in people because you’re too nice and pure at heart. The guy wanted you to be his pimp and bring him girls.”
“Which I refused. And I’m not that nice.”
“Don’t think I forgot about the time he came on to you.”
“And I refused him.” High as a kite, Fontaine had tried to kiss me backstage at a concert, and I pushed him away. Unfortunately a small indie photographer caught us. It had taken tens of thousands of dollars to get the man to agree not to print the shot, but Fontaine had allowed his manager to whisper in his ear that it would be bad for his image with all his adoring female fans to be seen as gay or even bi, so he fired me. The fact that the manager was also the one who supplied him with drugs had played a huge part in it.
“And he fired you for it, yet you still don’t speak badly of him. You’re a saint, dude.” Isaac lived by a strict code of honor:Thou shalt not shit on friends and family.If you did, you were dead to him.
I busted out laughing. “I’m so far from a saint, you can’t even imagine. But I can’t help feeling sorry for the man.” I grew somber, my heart still hurting whenever I thought about Fontaine. “He had everything in his grip and lost it all. Look at where he is now—homeless, penniless, living on the streets of LA, refusing any help.…He deserves pity.”
Given the dark twist of Isaac’s brows, he disagreed with me. “Well, anyway, this guy Ronan is a bigger creep than Fontaine. Imagine if it was your mom or my parents. You know you’d want to punch him through the wall.”
“That wouldn’t help get the money back, though,” I said mildly. “Besides, I don’t know why, but I feel like there’s a bigger story with this guy than what we know.”
“Yeah? Bigger how?”
“Not a clue,” I admitted and hefted the duffel bag onto my shoulder. “But maybe I’ll find out.”
In the Uber to Ronan’s house, I thought about what I’d said to Isaac. I had no idea why I felt the need to defend Ronan. I wasn’t his friend, and I didn’t know anything more than what I’d read. Which, admittedly, wasn’t pretty. And yet…the man had gotten under my skin. We’d only met twice, and he already had me speaking up on his behalf.
