Lo
“Ineed a break and a stiff drink.” Gabe stands and stretches his inked arms toward the ceiling. “You want something?”
“Um, whiskey would be great.”
He nods and discards the disposable gloves in the trash by the sink. Gabe washes his hands thoroughly and heads into his office. I shift and readjust the paper sheet around me again. It’s as if the damn thing has a mind of its own. Not that Gabe would need any help finding his way around the female form, especially when every fiber of my being is so starved for dick it’s practically sending smoke signals to lead him to the Promised Land.
In a few moments, he comes back with two glasses filled with whiskey. I take the drink and marvel at the huge skull-shaped cube of ice.Even this guy’s ice cubes are fucking cool.
“So.” Gabe leans against the sleek, black partition. “Harlow, huh?”
“Yep. Harlow Eva Maven, but everyone always calls me Lo.”
“Harlow Eva Maven,” he whispers as if he’s enjoying the way my name sounds on his lips. I’m enjoying it too.A little too much. “I like it. It’s got a classic, Old Hollywood kind of vibe. Though, I have to say, I am rather partial to Freckles.”
I laugh. It’s strange how easy it is with him. I have this big, terrifying crush on my friend’s boyfriend, and I’m torn between feeling like shit and exulting in every second that he smiles at me.I’m so going to hell. “You know, I think it’s customary for a guy to tell a girl his full name once she’s divulged hers.”
“Really? Shit. I guess I’ve been going about this all wrong.” Gabe sets his drink on the metal tray, sits, and takes my glass from me, placing it beside his.
“Seems like you do a lot of that.”
“It’s Gabriel.” He gives a humorless laugh and scrubs a hand through his beard. “Gabriel Dash Laurier.”
“Gabriel Dash Laurier? You’re kidding, right?” I roll the name over my tongue, loving how formal, and how ... wrong ... it is for him.
“No, ma’am. I come from high society Charleston stock. Much to my parent’s disappointment.” He sanitizes his hands, gloves up again, and pulls his stool closer. Gabe’s strong fingers grasp my knees, and he gently spreads them so I’m open to him. He clears his throat.
I balk when I realize my lacy thong is giving Gabe his very own peep show. I clutch the paper sheet. “Shit, sorry.”
“It’s ... ah ... it’s fine. Just part of the job.” He picks up his gun again and dips into a well of ink.
I grasp the paper sheet and hold it tight to my body as I lie back. “So ... Charleston?”
“You were expecting something else?”
“Maybe, yeah. I mean, I noticed an accent the night we met.” I shake my head. “You’ve got a little twang in there, but it’s ...”
“Hidden well?”
“I like Dash for you. It’s not at all what I’d expect, but then, neither are you.”
He glances up from his scrutiny of my thigh and smiles as he swipes the abrasive paper towel over my skin to collect the fresh blood and plasma. “Then I’m happy to disappoint.”
My heart pounds against the wall of my chest, and my cheeks pink up.Goddamn it, Lo. Control your freaking cooter. Southern Viking Dude is taken, by one of your closest friends, no less.
“So, what are we eating this late?”
“My friend owns a restaurant. I just texted him in my office. He said he’d swing by with some food soon.”
“They’re not closed?”
“They are, but he’s pretty generous with hooking me up after hours.”
“Hookingyouup? Or hooking up your hook ups?”
Gabe gasps and holds a hand to his chest. “I’m offended. I’ve never bought a girl dinner during a session. I’ve never even done a girl after hours.”
I roll my eyes and give him a playful shove. “Liar.”