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Carter
Last night, I told myself that it was impractical for me to want Gabriella.
Now? My resolve goes flying out of the window.
Last night, she’d been temptation and sin, her black dress hugging her curves, her hair cascading down her back in loose waves, her red lips full and pouty and almost impossible to resist.
She’s dressed much more casually today. She’s wearing an oversized-shirt and leggings. Her hair is in a ponytail. If she wore lipstick, it’s long been chewed off.
And it doesn’t matter what she wears, because either way, I can’t take my eyes off her.
My body recognizes her. It’s deeper than desire, more instinctive than memory. The night we were with her, she was sexy, warm, and very memorable. Now, she’s all of that, and more.
Gabriella is staring at the two of us. Belatedly, my brain decides to start functioning again. She asked if she could sit with us. “Of course,” I reply. “Please, join us.”
She slides into the booth across from me, and next to Dominic. “Thanks for the room and the flowers,” she says to him. “You didn’t have to upgrade me.”
He waves away her thanks. “It was nothing.”
Dominic upgraded her? I thought the hotel was full. “What room are you in?”
“The Rose Room,” she replies. “Why?”
Well, what do you know?I’m not the only one who’s being tugged toward her. I look at Dominic, my eyebrow raised. He avoids my gaze and examines the laminated menu. “I wonder what today’s special is.”
I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. As long as Dominic’s been eating at the AC Dinner, Wednesday’s special has always been meatloaf. Other places retool their menus every few years, but not Maggie Thompson. Dominic knows damn well what today’s special is; he just doesn’t want to talk about the Rose Room and why he put Gabriella there.
I drop it. “No reason,” I sidestep. “Is this lunch? Or an early dinner?”
“Lunch,” Gabriella replies. “I got caught up in work and lost track of the time.” She wrinkles her nose. “Not that it would kill me to miss a meal. Or three.”
What is she talking about? Her body is fucking perfection. “I’ve seen you naked,” I growl. “You have nothing to worry about.”
Gabriella bites her lower lip, and hot need floods into me once again. Damn it. Shouldn’t have thought about her naked. That was a mistake. My cock stirs in my trousers as the images crash back to the forefront. Gabriella’s beautiful olive skin against the white sheets of the Plaza. Her chestnut brown hair, spread on the pillow. Her plump breasts, firm and round. Her erect nipples, broadcasting her desire. That pretty cunt, those parted legs. The way she’d tasted, like sweetness and sin. The breathy moans, the whispered pleas. Those lips around my cock, sucking, sucking until I was fighting to hold back my climax. The sight of her body, wedged between the two of us.
Fuck me. I’m rock hard thinking of her. In the goddamn diner.
Knock it off, Hughes. She practically ran away from you last night.
Dominic’s feeling it. I’m feeling it. And though Gabriella might deny it until she’s blue in the face, she’s feeling it too. Energy crackles between the three of us. It was like this in that bar in Midtown. There was the same sense of anticipation. The same bated breath, the same threads of desire drawing us nearer…
Maggie bustles over to take our orders before I can make a fool of myself. “You boys ready to order? The usual?”
We both nod. She turns to Gabriella. “What about you, honey?”
Gabriella orders a club sandwich. Once Maggie leaves, Dominic gives her a questioning look. “Can I ask you a question? You implied yesterday that you were a regular at Manhattan’s underground poker halls, and ever since then, I’ve been curious. Why?”
“Why do I play?”
He nods.
She bites her lower lip again. “It’s a long and not particularly interesting story.”
“Our food will take at least fifteen minutes to arrive,” I reply. “Dominic and I were discussing predatory loans on the way here. I assure you, whatever you say will be more interesting than that.”
“Are you sure? Predatory loans sound good to me.” Her smile fades. “You’ve already figured out from the Rolex that I grew up rich. My dad played for Arsenal, and he invested his earnings profitably. My mother was an only child who inherited a lot of money from her parents, and she’s also a financial genius. I went to the right schools, hung out in the right circles, and I hated it.”
“Why?”
