Managed (VIP 2)
His expression is so perplexed, my heart hurts for him.
“You’ll do it?” he asks.
That’s what I just said, wasn’t it? I didn’t even think it over, just blurted out my answer. I should be thinking this over. How am I supposed to live with this man? I’m attracted to him—total understatement. And he expects me to sleep next to him every night? Torture. And yet so very appealing. I want this. For reasons best ignored. Focus on the now. I’ve always operated on instinct. It has yet to fail me. And my instincts had me agreeing from the start. I’m not going back on that.
Gabriel sits quietly, fidgeting with his cuffs, though clearly trying not to. The man has the most ferocious scowl, and I’ve never seen grumpy look so hot. Inappropriate visions of a naughty schoolgirl and the punishing headmaster fill my head. Down, girl.
He makes a noise of impatience mixed with self-disgust. “I apologize for putting you in an awkward position. It was badly done. Let me walk you back—”
“Show me the bedroom.”
He blinks at me as if I’ve spoken in a language he can’t understand.
I start walking to the back of the bus, kicking off my shoes as I go. He watches me the way someone might track a stray raccoon who’s found its way inside. But I notice he stands as well, slowly following.
The bedroom is as gorgeous as the living area. With the glossy, mellow wood paneling, it’s cozy and warm. His bed is a king, taking up most of the space. I crawl onto it, sinking into the cream-satin covers.
Gabriel stands at the threshold, his gaze darting from me to the space beside me. I lay on my side, resting my head on my hand. This isn’t going to be easy. Stretched out on his bed, with him looking on, this feels like something more.
It feels like seduction. I’ve never been good at lying to myself, either. I want his weight on me, the solid strength of his muscles shifting and bunching as he moves between my legs. I want that heat, to feel his cock sliding thick and wide into my empty, aching sex.
But he didn’t ask for that. And the fact that he needs me for something non-sexual means something to me. I’m not just a pair of tits and ass for him to get off on. He could get that anywhere. We both know it. He needs me for this.
I let my head fall to the pillows. “Don’t leave me hanging, sunshine.”
“It’s…” He glances at his watch. “Ten-fifteen in the morning.”
“And I’m tired. I need a nap.”
I really do. I hadn’t realized how very exhausted I am until I said it out loud.
A calculating gleam enters his eyes. My nipples pulse in response. Damn.
Slowly, he takes off his jacket, the move pure suit porn. He takes his time, hangs it up, slips off his shoes, and removes his cufflinks. Muscles strain against his fine, white shirt. I watch him with a lazy sort of attention. The intimacy of his action soothes in a strange way, and my lids grow heavy.
He pauses at the edge of the bed. “Every night?” It’s a husky rasp, with more yearning than I think he realizes.
Soft warmth blooms in my heart. “Naps too, if you want them.”
His gaze is liquid heat. “I want them.”
He crawls onto the bed. The wary, hesitant man is gone. Gabriel moves with grace, nearly prowling, hot eyes on me, his body coming flush with mine. I start to pant as he deftly rolls me to face the wall and curls himself around me, pressing my back to his front. He does it all as if he’s had this planned in his head for some time, as if he’s been thinking in great detail about what he’d do with me once in his bed.
His arm wraps around my middle, snaking up between my breasts before I can even blink. He cups my shoulder, holding me close—snuggling me.
I tremor, a swarm of bees bumping around in my belly. This feels too good. My skin is burning, my heart racing. He has to notice. I feel the rapid thud of his heart against my shoulder blades and know he’s agitated too.
We struggle with the newness of the situation for a few seconds, and then he sighs, his warm breath stirring my hair, and his hard body eases. It’s so peaceful, that sound, that I sink into his hold. We’re over the covers, but I’m so warm, so secure, that it doesn’t matter.
Gabriel’s lips press against the crown of my head. “Every night, chatty girl.”
The possession in his voice is absolute. I’m in so much fucking trouble.
Chapter Ten
Gabriel
* * *
“So, what are we going to tell people?” Sophie’s big brown eyes gaze up at me with worry as we make our way to the practice room set up at a local recording studio.