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Pure Abandon
  • Текст добавлен: 5 октября 2016, 01:51

Текст книги "Pure Abandon"


Автор книги: Jeannine Colette



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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

A light goes off in Trish’s head. Crap, I know where this is going.

“Did you see the flowers in reception?” Trish asks.

The flowers! Trish thinks they’re from Gabriel. Well, she thinks the first set was and that Asher has been supplementing them.

I look over to Trish. “Will you please make my husband a cappuccino?”

Gabriel turns to me, confused by my abrupt command. The good thing is he doesn’t think twice about Trish’s question nor does he attempt to answer it.

“No, Kat, that’s fine. I’m just leaving,” he says.

“So soon?” A twinge of disenchantment resonates in my throat.

“Yes, I was just stopping by. I have a meeting a few blocks from here.” He looks just as disappointed to go as I am to see him leave.

“I’ll walk you out.” I lead Gabriel out the door and down the concrete hallway with the box of Twinkies still in my hand. Trish makes her way toward Heather’s office.

“Thank you for coming to visit.” I truly am happy Gabriel is here.

“Absolutely. I’ll try and do it more when this trial is over.” Once we’re at the elevator, I hit the call button and stand with Gabriel, waiting for the car to arrive.

As the elevator doors open, I lean up and give him a good-bye kiss on the lips. The kiss is sweet and appropriate for the office. Still, I hold on to it entirely too long. His tender, velvety lips feel so good against mine.

“Ahem.” We are interrupted by the sound of someone clearing his throat. And it’s not Trish.

Inside the elevator is a pair of golden eyes. Gabriel and I unlock our lips and the three of us make eye contact. Gold to green to blue. We’re like the Crux Gemmata of early Christian art. Jeweled crosses in precious metal that hang above altars with the alpha and omega signs hanging in juxtaposition.

A symbol of the beginning and the end.

You can cut the tension with a knife. At least I can. I wonder if Gabriel can feel it.

Asher exits the elevator, holding the door open with his arm.

“Going down?” He’s being snarky.

“Mr. Asher, this is my husband, Gabriel Monroe. Gabriel, this is my boss, Alexander Asher.”

For the first time, I am able to appraise the men properly. Gabriel is a touch taller than Asher, yet the men are equally as handsome in entirely different ways. Gabriel with his fit frame and all-American good looks, slick dark waves of hair, fair skin, and navy-blue eyes. Asher is exotic with bronzed skin and a rock-hard physique, but his blond highlights and citrine eyes make him mesmerizing for all the wrong reasons. Gabriel’s nose is a little straighter, Asher’s jaw a little more square and manly. Gabriel’s eyes are bigger and brighter; Asher’s lips are fuller, his smile broader. They are the black and white, the yin and yang of my life.

Alpha and omega in the flesh.

But which is which, I don’t know.

Asher holds his hand out to Gabriel. “Mr. Monroe. I have heard a lot about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet the husband.” Asher puts an emphasis around the term. It doesn’t help my story of me hardly ever seeing Asher. Nevertheless, I don’t think Gabriel notices.

Gabriel shakes Asher’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you.” Gabriel quickly removes his hand and places his arm around my waist, marking his territory. “I was just paying a surprise visit to my wife.” He puts emphasis on the word wife.

Yup, it’s a pissing match.

Asher laughs it off. “Well, I hope you do stop by more often.” He eyes the box in my hand, lifts the lid, and takes out a package. “Twinkie?” he offers Gabriel.

The jerk!

Gabriel turns to me and places another kiss on my lips. “I have to go. I’ll be home late tonight. Don’t wait up, okay?”

I nod in understanding and watch as my beautiful husband gets into the elevator.

As soon as the doors close, I hit Asher in the arm.

“Ass!” I say as I storm down to my office, thankful there is no one in the front reception area. I can hear his chuckle over the sound of my heels pounding down the concrete hallway.

I arrive home to a partially empty house. Gwen is at dinner with friends and Carmen leaves as soon as I get home. Jackson and I play with his building blocks for a while.

Build them up. Knock them down. Repeat. We partake in our nighttime ritual of bed, bath, and bottle. Even the lioness knows of this.

No, Kat, don’t go there!

No is right. Not my husband. My beautiful, blue-eyed, jealous husband.

Once Jackson is snug in bed, I glance at the clock. It’s nine o’clock. It’s early, but if I want to get into work early again, I’ll need to get a good night’s sleep.

My eyes open to the sound of shuffling feet. Gabriel is home.

Making his way into the walk-in closet, he kicks off his shoes and sheds himself of his suit jacket, hanging it up carefully on the hanger. I sit up in bed and watch as he carefully unknots his tie and hangs it on the tie rack before his long fingers unbutton his shirt from collar to hip. My eyes watch as he slowly peels his shirt back, revealing his exquisite build. There is no sweeter sight than a man shirtless in dress pants with the top button undone. As if he knows I’m watching, he peels off his pants, revealing his incredible physique. Tall and strong, yet not bulky. He’s toned in all the right areas and has incredible definition. His arms and chest are his best features. Looks like he’s been keeping up with his pushups in the park.

When he’s shed of his suit, wearing nothing but boxer briefs, I’m reminded of our first night together.

Gabe kneeled down next to the bed in front of me and looked deep into my eyes. Even in the dark, I could see his piercing blues glowing in the night.

“Are you sure you want to do this? You had a lot to drink.”

I smiled at his compassion; it was so unexpected. It made me want him even more. “Yes.”

Standing up slowly, Gabe removed his baseball cap, revealing his long dark waves that were hiding underneath. He threw the cap on his desk and turned on his iPod. “Crash.” Dave Matthews had no idea he wrote that song about this very moment.

In a slowed perfection, he rolled his shoulders forward and grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head. His breath hissed when I leaned forward and softly touched his chest. It was soft and smooth and creamy, like silk. My hand trembled ever so slightly.

“Relax.” He breathed.

I let out a breath and felt my shoulders lower. 

“You are so beautiful. I haven’t been able to think of anything but you, right here, for weeks.” His voice made me quiver in a way I only read about in my young adult books. “But I can’t do this.” My eyes must have given away my disappointment because he winked joyfully. “Not until I know your name.”

I blushed at the thought of being half naked on a bed with a guy who didn’t know my name. “Kathryn.”

He repeated my name and I felt his breath hit my skin. Gabe moved his hands around my back and unhooked my bra. The straps fell to the sides so I was completely exposed. He leaned forward and trailed soft kisses on my neck, stopping for a second at my clavicle before continuing his delicious journey south.

I let out a moan and grabbed his arms. I didn’t know what else to do with my body. I wanted—needed—to feel him, all of him. And I told him so.

After an endless amount of foreplay, my heart raced a mile a minute from the incredible feeling of having him all over my body, from anticipation of what was about to happen. He leaned over and grabbed a foil packet from his end table. I nearly stopped breathing at the thought of what was about to happen.

Easing his weight onto my body, Gabriel slowly lowered himself down and into me. I took him in, welcoming, widening, and accepting him into my body as one. He slowly pulled himself out before slashing his weight back into me, forcing my body to convulse, taking the pain and pleasure at the same time.

“Do that again!” I begged.

And he did, again, faster and faster. Our mouths found each other and we were all lips and tongues, taking breaks only to say each other’s names, names we just learned, yet we said them over and over again like they were a mantra, until we were breathing so hard we couldn’t speak.

“You’re going to be the end of me,” he said as he rolled over to place a soft kiss on my forehead. His hands laced in my hair and swirled the soft tendrils along his fingers.

I nuzzled closer to him, nesting myself in his arm. “I’ve never felt that before.”

He looked down at me, confused. “Felt what?”

“An orgasm. That was… I can’t even describe…”

Gabe let out a chuckle. “I’m sure that’s what you tell all the guys to make them feel good.”

“That would be impossible.”

“You don’t…” He looked puzzled, and I suddenly felt so self-conscious.

Should I have told him that? Is that something I possibly should have told him before I got naked in his bed?

“Were you a virgin?”

Half hiding myself under the sheet, I nodded in slow mortification.

He looked down at me and smiled, pulling the sheet off my face, and leaned down to kiss me with the most tender kiss I’d ever felt in my life.

“You are the greatest surprise I’ve had in a long time. Who are you and where have you been these last three years?”

I giggled. “Saving myself for the right moment, I guess.”

“Stay the night. I don’t want you to go.”

“I won’t.”

A look of alarm crossed his face. “You won’t stay?”

I laughed again. “I won’t leave. I’ll stay as long as you want.”

And I never left.

“Shit. You scared me,” he says, taking a step back when he sees me.

Not the reaction I was hoping for. I lean over and pull down the duvet on his side of the bed. Gabriel climbs in and adjusts his pillow.

“What are you still doing up?” he asks.

“Waiting for you. What time is it?”

“After midnight.” Gabriel rolls over, facing away from me. “I’m beat, baby. Go back to sleep.” He adjusts his pillow one more time and settles his body into the mattress.

I roll toward him and press my chest against his back and drape my right arm around him. My head is buried between his shoulder blades, so I take the opportunity to place soft kisses along his back.

The action causes Gabriel to roll over toward me, onto his back. As Gabriel’s arm snakes around me, I find my new home in the crook, lying with my arm across his stomach.

Raising my hand, I gently run my fingers through the sprinkle of hairs on his belly that lead to a very happy place. My fingers draw small circles from his navel and start their descent down to the elastic of his boxer shorts.

My fingers cross the barrier, and as I am about to grab hold of my prize, Gabriel’s hand lands on top of mine and lifts it up and out of his shorts.

“No, baby. I’m tired. Not tonight,” Gabriel says as he rolls back over away from me.

What kind of man refuses sex with his wife? After his office visit today, I was sure he would want to make love tonight. Instead, it’s the same story. I feel like Jackson’s building blocks.

Build them up. Knock them down. Repeat.

I arrive at the office later than expected. I overslept, and of course, Gabriel was already gone. Gwen is still there, so I left her with Carmen. I couldn’t deal with her this morning.

And those goddamn flowers are blocking the redhead!

“Trish, is Malory in yet?” I scowl.

“Yes, she’s in her office.” Trish rises and rounds the reception area. “Kat, I have to talk to you.”

“Not a good time.” I walk past reception and head down the concrete hallway.

“Listen, I was reading emails this morning and…” Trish follows me. She has a frantic tone to her voice.

“No!” I condescend, stopping in the hallway to put the little redhead in her place. “Trish, what have I told you about reading other people’s email?”

She looks me square in the eye, remorseful yet determined. “I know, but listen. I was looking for—”

“Say one more word about emails and I am marching right into Erik’s office.”

“But I—” She tries to plead her case.

“Enough!” I turn on my heel and head down to Malory’s office. She’s sitting at her desk in head-to-toe red. She looks exquisite, her jet-black hair smooth, silky, and falling just below her chin. The phone is to her ear, but when she sees me enter, she puts it down.

Her office looks like mine but bigger and professionally decorated. Okay, it looks nothing like mine except for the view.

I close the door behind me and take a seat on the black-and-white loveseat in the corner.

“I need to talk to you,” I plead. If anyone knows how to win a man over in bed it’s Malory. She’s eluded many times over to her sexual prowess in the bedroom. As often as I thought she was brash and tried to shy away from the conversation, I always felt myself keeping little mental notes.

“And I need to talk to you. What’s going on with you and Asher?” She swivels her chair to face me, seeming eager to talk.

My mouth falls to the floor. Asher? She can’t possibly think something is happening between the two of us. It is a purely professional relationship. She knows that. Doesn’t she?

“Why do you ask?”

“Kat, I’ve been watching the two of you since you started. He has paid more attention to you than he has anyone in the three years I’ve been here. Yesterday, he was in the conference room with the maintenance crew hanging up that ridiculous poster.” She is looking me square in the eye. Her words are direct, yet I can hear the approval in her voice. Malory has mastered the art of swaying a conversation. I’ve seen her do it a thousand times and, right now, it feels like she’s swinging me toward Asher.

I press my lips together, trying to keep my bottom lip from quivering. “I actually came here to talk to you about Gabriel. Yesterday, when he was here… I thought everything was good, but then last night I tried… and he…” Words fail me.

“So what does this mean? Are you leaving him?”

Leaving Gabriel? “No.”

Malory leans back in her seat and crosses her arms. Her eyes squint in observation, looking at me, as if I’m a criminal under the heated light of an interrogation office.

“Why wouldn’t you?” She asks. “If he’s having an affair, why would you stay with him?”

“You think he’s having an affair?” My head falls into my hands.

“Don’t you?” Her words are curt.

“I haven’t even spoken to him about it. I mean…” Leave my husband? I haven’t ever thought of that.

“I think you have to ask your husband about the woman in the park. If you think something is going on, then it probably is.”

“You mean follow my heart?” Is that what Asher’s advice really was?

Malory stands and makes her way toward the door.

“Your heart, your brain, your gut, your vagina… whatever. You can’t play the ‘poor me and my marriage’ card every day. It’s getting old.”

I raise my head and look at her in utter confusion. “I don’t complain about my marriage.”

Using a mocking tone, she recites my words. “He works a lot. We have sex, but it’s not the same. He used to take me sailing. He used to play games with me. He used to this and he used to that.” Her words cut at me like a knife.

I don’t even know how to respond. I stare at her in bewilderment as I watch her get up from her desk. “Shit or get off the pot, Kat. It should be easy since you have a golden god kissing your goddamned feet.” With that, she leaves the office.

I walk back toward my office in disgust. How dare she? My sounding board. My best friend. Of all the…

First, it was don’t say anything to Gabriel; now, it’s confront him. And that Asher nonsense?

I bet she’s jealous of my friendship with Asher. I saw her moves on him at the bar. She thinks I’m after her man, when it couldn’t be further from the truth. Heather wasn’t the one I had to watch out for. It was Malory. And if she has the hots for Asher, why doesn’t she just go for him? She’s stunning and totally his type.

I feel like I’m lost in a head-trip. Poor me? Getting old? Leave your husband. What the hell is going on with my life?

Breathe, Kat. Just breathe.

I head back to my office intent on getting back to work. I power up my computer, grab the phone, and start placing calls I’ve been neglecting. Three weeks left and this event has to be perfect.

And it will be… after I call Gabriel. I just need to hear his voice and I’ll know. Know what I’m not sure.

“Hey.” He picks up sounding his usual self. My stomach is in knots, torn between my brain and my heart. Just hearing him on the other end reminds me I’m crazy and this is all a misunderstanding.

“You left early this morning.” My voice breaks. Gabriel can hear it on the other end.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, sounding distracted. I can imagine him sitting at his desk with his sleeves rolled up and going through a thousand-page deposition in front of him.

“I miss you, Gabriel. I really miss you.” Tears threaten to escape my eyes.

“Miss me? Kat, what’s going on?” He’s worried.

“Yes. I need to talk to you. Tonight. Promise we’ll talk?” I plead.

“Of course.” He promises. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Just hearing his voice quiets the irrational voice inside my head that’s making me go crazy.

“It’s better now.” It is. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” His voice is sincere.

I hang up feeling much better.

A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. I swallow my insecurities and gain my composure. Wiping under my eyes to make sure they’re not smudged, I turn my head to the doorway to see Erik standing there clad in his signature black. “What can I do for you?”

“I came by to pick up the final production notes.” He’s holding a black leather satchel and an iPhone in hand.

“I’m still finalizing my packet for the event.” Was I supposed to have it ready? We just had a meeting yesterday. He knows where I am in production.

Erik looks displeased. It’s an odd reaction from someone who has been over-the-top welcoming to me.

“Kat, we have to talk about your performance here. You are constantly behind, and with the tight deadline we’re on, it makes me question whether you’re able to handle the job on your own.” His eyes are laced with disappointment.

“I didn’t know I was behind,” I nervously reply. I’ve been working really hard and am on top of all of my work.

I shuffle through the files on my desk, eager to show Erik the progress I’ve made, substantial progress. Haven’t I? The vendors have been contacted and contracts written up. I still haven’t finalized a few things, but that can be done next week.

My rundown is still in flux, but Gretchen has added some sequencing issues as per the talents’ time requirements in their contracts. So, I still have a lot of work to do there.

Malory has been reviewing the elements in the broadcast and the sponsorship inserts. I don’t have those complete either.

There is still a back-and-forth going on about the set. The site survey was great. That woman… Oh, what was her name…? Claudia! Yes, Claudia. We were going over logistics and she was answering my questions, but then I… left… with Asher.

Harvey and I have gone over the speeches and I still have to write a few more inserts in the copy.

I pause at the thought. I am really far behind. I immediately feel deflated. The roller coaster of emotions I’ve been feeling the past few weeks is really taking a toll on me. How can I go from high to low so fast? It makes the lows feel even… lower.

“Erik,” I say. He’s patiently waiting for me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know my notes were due already. There are still another three weeks.”

I bite my lip and wait for a response. I can’t stand the look of disappointment on his face. Please, don’t let him fire me.

“Richard and I are heading over to Lincoln Center to discuss camera placement and lighting. I expect those reports finalized and on my desk by end of day Friday.” He turns to leave and then stops and sighs.

“I have high hopes for you. Friday.” It’s a command more than a compliment. With two taps on the door, he leaves.

I look around at the papers on my desk, trying to figure out how I let so much get by me. It wasn’t that long ago I was the go-to gal, the one you could rely on, who picked up everyone else’s pieces. I came here two months ago with that same attitude and fresh ideas. Then I got distracted letting my head get away from me.

And, I know exactly where it’s been.

The house is quiet when I get home. Gwen is still here so she can spend time with Jackson. It’s sweet of her, though part of me can’t wait until she goes home. She meddles. I want to talk to Gabriel about Becca again but can’t with Gwen around. She will either take his side, or worse, take mine. I don’t know if I’m ready for that… yet.

“You look beat. You really should wear more rouge.” She’s thumbing through New York Magazine again. It’s been circulating my house all week, yet I’ve neglected to pick up the damn thing and read it.

“Thank you for the words of encouragement, but I had a very trying day at work.” My body falls to the couch in defeat.

“I’ll tell you what I’d like to try… This boss of yours. Did you know he’s been linked with two Hollywood actresses and three socialites in the past year alone?” Her eyes widen as she scans the photos.

“Yes, he is quite the playboy, mother. I’ll put in a good word for you if you’d like a piece.” I cover my face with my arm. I wish I could just block out everything Asher, and Asher-Marks Communications, for a few moments.

“Did you know he is the sole heir of the Asher fortune? When his grandfather dies, he’ll be left with everything. Just imagine how much money that man will have!”

“Yes, Mother. I am aware.” My voice is muffled under my arm, but I’m sure she can hear the annoyance in my voice.

“And this sad, sad story about his mother. She died in a tragic car accident with him in the car.”

My head peaks to attention. “What else does it say?”

“How his heroic grandfather took him in. The man is a saint. He is the only living family the boy had. I don’t know how you are able to look at that man without your heart breaking every day.”

I sit up and reach over toward my mother. “Can I see that article?”

Gwen hands over the magazine, and I read it through. In there, it talks of the empire. Wow. The Asher family does control as much as Gabriel said they did. I can see why gluttony and greed are synonymous with the Asher name.

My eyes glide through the article, trying to find the part about the mother, when the garage door opening disrupts me. Gabriel is home. I have to talk to him.

His dark, wavy hair has fallen haphazardly on his face. He must have been running his hands through it a lot today. He looks more beaten and battered than I do.

“Hi, baby. How was your day?” I stand to join him by the table. I gently put my hands on his shoulders, but he brushes them away.

He catches my stunned expression.

“I’m sorry. It’s just been a long day. I want to go upstairs.”

Gabriel kisses me on the forehead and makes his way up to the bedroom. I stand here listening as his footsteps climb the staircase and the door to the bedroom closes behind him.

This isn’t the way tonight was supposed to go. My heart actually aches inside my chest. I grab Gabriel’s car keys off the kitchen counter and head to the garage.

“I’m going out,” I shout over my shoulder to Gwen, who watches me, stunned.

Crack!

I love the sound of a metal bat as it hits a ball. I especially love it on days like these.

Crack!

This one is for Gabriel and his bipolar moods!

Crack!

This one is for Becca, with her perky boobs and platinum-blonde hair!

Crack!

This one is for Erik and his goddamn deadlines!

Crack!

This one is for Heather and her bitch attitude!

Crack!

This one is for Malory and her perfect body and evil words!

Crack!

This one is for me being such a chicken shit all the time!

Crack!

“I thought I’d find you here”

I should have known she’d follow me.

Crack!

This one is for nosey mothers who can’t stop meddling!

“You always did run to the batting cage whenever you got angry.” Gwen is standing behind the fence as I take my next hit.

Crack!

“Leave it alone, Mom. I just need some time to think.”

Crack!

“I remember the day of your father’s funeral. You didn’t think we knew where you were, but I followed you to the cages. You hit balls for hours. I was afraid you’d sprain your wrist.”

Crack!

I step back from the batter’s box.

“I didn’t know you followed me.” I remember that day. After the burial, everyone went to a local restaurant to toast my father’s demise. At least that’s the way I saw it. I couldn’t bear to hear happy stories of my dad’s life. I was too sad. I wanted to go somewhere I could connect with him. Where I could connect a bat to a ball. It’s how Gabriel feels about sailing; it connects him to his home.

This must be how Asher feels about music. Why he pours himself into it. It connects him to his mother.

“You are your father’s daughter, Kathryn.” Gwen steps around the side of the fence. “But you’ll always be your mother’s daughter. And that means you want it all.”

I look away from her.

“That’s not what this is about, Mom. You don’t understand…”

“A husband’s neglect. Oh, honey, if you don’t think a woman who was married to a man who was always on the road doesn’t understand neglect, then you know nothing about me.”

“At least Dad had an excuse.” She has no idea what I’m going through. Keeping my eyes forward, I take swing after swing. She’s still standing there, watching.

“Are you going home tonight?” My words come off snarkier than I intended. I hear her shuffle her feet from side to side, deciding what to do.

“Yes, Kathryn,” she says with a pause. “I was just stopping by to let you know I’m heading back tonight.”

I take a few more swings and wait for the sound of her car driving out of the parking lot. I know she means well, in her own way, but I just can’t deal with her tonight.


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