Dirty Little Lies (5 page)

I get so much done this
morning that Boss Man doesn’t even blink when I tell him I’m going out for
lunch. But once I get to the park, I have the desperate urge to take the rest
of the day off. It is the perfect summer scene: little kids running through the
fountain, squealing in delight, the sun shining in a cloudless sky, and flowers
in full bloom, smelling absolutely heavenly.

Only one thing puts it all to shame.

Gabe.

I have no trouble spotting him—he looks like a picture.
Business casual in grey pants and a pale blue button-down, sprawled across a
plaid blanket with a picnic basket at his feet. His eyes are closed and his
arms are folded behind his head. 

I want to make a meal out of him.

Slowly, I move toward him, not wanting to disturb this
image. I just want to savor him for a few more minutes.

 A warm smile stretches across his face.
Busted
.

“You like what you see?” he asks, eyes still closed.

 I play it cool and take a seat next to him on the blanket,
fighting the incredible urge to mount him.

“The picnic?” I ask, refusing to feed his ego. “Yes, it
looks fab.”

He opens his eyes and they look even brighter against his
shirt. “So, that’s how you’re going to play it, huh?”

 “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I smirk. How
am I supposed to be sexy around this guy? He catches my every move. “I’m just
very excited for our picnic.” 

“Well, I’m very excited to see you,” he says, before
yanking me down on top of him. 

I giggle and try to squirm out of his hold like I’m in
junior high and Gabe’s my first crush. But after we lie there for a moment,
there is nothing remotely funny. Gabe’s eyes fix on mine and I’m sure the
people in the park can see the sparks flying off us.

My body sinks into his, like it’s made to be there. I can
feel his heartbeat, his pulse, each breath. And holy buckets, it feels like my
panties are going to combust at any minute.  

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Gabe whispers in my
ear. “But since all you’ve been thinking about is the picnic, I best get on
with it.”

In a blink, he flips me over and plants a chaste kiss on my
nose before getting to work on our lunch. That’s what I get for trying to play
it cool.

Gabe pulls out a bottle of white wine, cheese, fruit,
asparagus spears wrapped in prosciutto, and a baguette.

 “Man, I could get used to you feeding me,” I tell him,
stealing a grape.

“So could I.” He hands me a glass of wine. “So, tell me
about your day?”

“Really?” I ask, feeling strange he wants to get to know
me.

“Really. Why wouldn’t I want to know about your day?”

“I don’t know. I guess I thought we’d keep this
thing s
trictly
business—you know, of the
sexual adventure
variety.”

“We can, if that’s what you want.  But I like you Stevie.
And no matter what happens when we’re done here, I hope we can be friends.”

“Me too,” I say, as much to him as to myself.

“Okay,” I give in. “It’s been a good morning. Busy. I’m a
designer at a graphic arts firm.”

“Mmm.” Gabe nods. “I can see that.”

“You can?”

“You have a flair,” he says, accessing my platforms and
knee socks before fingering my ladybug necklace. “You’re a little on the funky
side, Ms. Sinclair.”

I nod. “Yeah, Max had to tell me to
tone it down
on
more than one occasion.”

“No,” Gabe says, shaking his head. “Don’t ever tone it
down. It suits you. And I like it.”

“So what about you?” I ask him before taking a sip of my
wine.

“You already know what I do,” he says, plating our lunch.

“You know, being a manager of a corporate hotel really
doesn’t suit you,” I blurt, immediately wishing I could take it back.

He laughs at my candor, at least that’s what I hope he’s
laughing at. “Why not?” he asks. “What’s wrong with managing a hotel?”

“Nothing … I don’t know. You don’t seem like a cog in a
wheel to me. You seem like the whole damn machine. I picture you as an
entrepreneur or something.”

Damn foot in my mouth again. Why does this man take away my
filter? “I’m sorry. Not that your job isn’t cool or whatever. I have a knack
for saying the dumbest things.”

“Or the most perceptive.” Gabe runs his hand down my arm. I
turn to mush, wishing we were back at that corporate hotel right now.

“I’m opening my own hotel,” he says.

“What? When?”

“About a year. It’s still under construction—a little
boutique place. I’ll have to wrap up my work at the Marriott soon because the
new place needs my attention full time.”

“Hotels, that’s your thing?”

“Hotels, restaurants, bars, boutiques. You name it. I
dabble in a lot.”

“So, why are you working at the Marriott then?”

“Research. It’s been the best schooling for me. I also know
the GM and approached him. He was short on help, and I needed some inside
information for my place.”

“Wow. I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be, Stevie. It’s just work. It was a great trade
off. And that way, I didn’t have to keep anything a secret. Plus, we’re
catering to a different clientele. There’s really no competition. And speaking
of the hotel …” He tips his head down. “Though
I
will allow feathered
friends in my hotel, the place you are currently staying at does not. So try to
keep that little noise-maker’s singing to a minimum. You’re going to be staying
a while, and I don’t want the other guests to wonder what kind of place I’m
running.”

“How did you know?” I totally had him hidden in the closet,
and Free is awesome in stealth-mode.

“I heard him last night.”

“Why didn’t you call me out then?”

“Stevie, you could’ve had an entire zoo in your room last
night and I wouldn’t have cared. I had one thing on my mind.”

“Well, don’t worry. I only have a few more days left in my
stay.”

“Try ten,” Gabe says with a smile.

“What?”

“I found some more points for you to stay another week.”

Oh, that sounds so much better than hitting up my sister or
trying to negotiate with Max so soon. Still, I can’t take advantage of him like
that.

“I can’t accept, Gabe.”

“You can and you will,” he says with a piercing glance that
looks more than a little dangerous. And completely hot. “How’s the wine?”

“Delicious. What kind is it?”

“An Italian Soave,” he says, accenting each syllable,
so-ah-ve
.

Mmmm.

“I love it. I need to try Italian wines more often.”

“I have a penchant for all things Italian. Maybe I can show
you in the next ten days.” He smirks.

“Gabe, it’s too much.”

“You need more time for your little adventure, and if I’m
going to help, it’d be completely irresponsible on my part if I let you go
without getting the full experience.”

“Did you know you are incredibly pushy?”

“Yes, I find it very effective in business. And other
things.”

“I’m sure you do.”

And let me tell you, it works.

“So, we have your stay sorted out. Now let’s finish eating
so you can get back to work. I wouldn’t want you to be late for our …
plans
…
tonight.”

“It’d really help if you told
me where we’re going. I’m not sure if my outfit is appropriate,” I say to Gabe
on the phone.

“What are you wearing?” he asks in an exaggerated sexy
voice. It still works on him.

“A blue strapless dress and sling-backs,” I say. It took me
ten tries to get it right.

“Perfect,” he answers.

“Are you sure? You haven’t even seen it.”

“I’m positive. Now stop with the nerves and get your tight
little ass down here. I know it’s not the gentlemanly thing to have you meet me
in the garage. It’s actually quite seedy, but it would look suspicious if I
went up to your room to pick you up.”

“It’s fine,” I tell him. “I’ll meet you in the garage in
ten.”

I give myself one last look in the mirror. Smokey eyes,
nude lips, hair piled high in a messy bun. It’s pretty good, I have to admit.
Still, something’s missing. I pull the clip from my hair and let the wild waves
spill down to my shoulders—just fucked hair.

Somehow it seems completely appropriate.

I put my lips up to Free’s cage. He moves in and gives me a
tiny peck with his beak. Then he yells, “Max, Maaaaxxxx.” It breaks my heart a
little.

“No, Free,” I tell him. “No Max. Tonight I’m going out with
Gorgeous Gabe.”

He paces back and forth. “Max, Max, Max.”

“Gorgeous Gabe,” I repeat, secretly hoping Free will latch
on and then let it spill the next time he sees Max. It’ll serve him right.

When I get down to the garage, an elegant black limo idles
just outside the elevator. I immediately feel light-headed. I know Gabe is in
there. And if I had any doubt, it dissipates when the window slides down and a
hand reaches out, crooking a finger to beckon me inside.

I slowly approach the vehicle feeling equal parts anxious
and excited, just as I did last night. Turns out, it is for good reason. Before
I know what’s happening, the car door opens and a strong arm swoops around me,
yanking me in.

Gabe has me splayed across the seat within seconds, his
body caging mine, and his woodsy scent putting me even more off-balance. 

“You look incredible,” his low voice purrs in my ear.

“Not for long.” I feign disgust, fighting his hold, even
though there is no place I’d rather be. “You’re messing me up.”

“Impossible,” he says, pulling me up with him as he leans
back on the seat.

“So now are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I
huff.

“Why? Nervous?” he asks with unabashed mischief in his
eyes.

“A little,” I admit.

“Let’s keep it a mystery just a bit longer. This is an
adventure, remember?”

Gabe moves over to the limo bar where there’s chilled
champagne. He expertly pops the top and fills our glasses.

“Let’s enjoy this time together before you have a harem of
men to choose from.”

Okay, where the hell is he taking me?

“I have a hard time believing that you’d come in second to
anyone,” I tell him honestly.

“You haven’t seen this place,” he says, handing me a glass
before raising his in a toast. “To
sexual
adventures,” he says with a
clink to my glass.

I lift mine in response. “The very best kind.”

Gabe sits close, drinking his champagne and running a
finger along my thigh. I could skip this whole thing and just stay here, with
him, all night.

“Okay, we’re almost there,” he says, and my tummy turns
with nerves. “You just have to do one more thing before we go in.”

“Okay,” I say. “What?”

Gabe then leans down in front of me and slides his hands up
my dress. His touch is warm and rough all at the same time. It’s so fucking
good. Better than a hot bath, or ice cream, or even coming home to Max at the
end of a hard day. It is lust and comfort tangled together. My hands grip onto
his hard shoulders, and my legs turn to jelly. His fingers ghost over my
panties, now wet with need. He looks up at me, his eyes hooded, before he hooks
his fingers around the tiny strings at my hips. Then he pulls.

Yep, definitely do NOT want to get out of this
limo.

He slides my panties down my legs and tucks them in my
pocket while I pray for car trouble, or gridlock, or anything that will keep us
right here.

“Now you’re ready,” he whispers in my ear before taking a
little nibble. And with that, we pull to a stop. Gabe takes my hand, opens the
door, and leads me out into the night.

Toward a building with a small sign, which reads:
Venus
.

We walk into a grand
foyer—elegant really. It’s dimly lit by the sconces on the ivory walls and
fragrant white lilies fill the air. Gabe leads me through a dark velvet curtain
along the outer wall to a small room, almost like a sanctuary. There are
candles everywhere and a large sculpture of a nude woman.

“It’s Venus,” Gabe says.

Hence the name, I guess, but weird all the same. Venus
watches over us and we approach.

Weirder.

Then Gabe reaches in his pocket, pulls out my panties, and
drops them at the statue’s feet.

Weirdest.

“What the fu—”

“Don’t freak out, Stevie.” Gabe pulls me in close. “It just
a fun tradition. Making an offering to Venus—you know, Goddess of Love, Sex,
Beauty.”

“Yes, I’m somewhat up on my Roman mythology,” I say. “But I
don’t know, that’s creepy.”

Gabe leans in and brushes his lips along my jaw, stopping
at my ear. “It’s a place of fantasy, baby. Just go with it. I promise you will
not be let down.”

Go with it,
he says. But I
wondered: Could I? Should I?

Then Gabe gives me the eyes. Then the lips, the chest, and
the abs. Not to mention the tight bum and impressive bulge behind his zipper.
How could I possibly say no to him?

I follow that tight bum down a hallway that opens into a
huge room. It could very easily be a nightclub—if it weren’t for the half-naked
people and the video screens playing … I don’t know what you’d call it. Roman
porn maybe?

There are people everywhere, music playing, and a blue haze
floating in the massive space. There’s a bar at one end of the room and a dance
floor at the other, but through the darkness I can make out a few doors and
hallways along the sides and in the back.

The energy is pulsing all around us. There are couples
grinding on the dance floor, people flirting in corner, and others simply
watching.

“This is the meeting room,” Gabe tells me.

I try not to stare, but rather act casual, like I come to
places like this all the time.

Gabe makes no move to act the same way. He stares, studies,
and points things out to me as we walk down to the bar.

“It’s okay, Stevie. You can look. That’s what we’re here
for. It’s what everyone wants.”

“What is this place?” I ask.

“It’s a place to get your sexy back, that’s for sure.” Gabe
brings my hand to his lips for a kiss, a gesture that both calms and excites me
at the same time. “It’s also the perfect place for a sexual adventure. You want
that, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“And if I recall, you had quite a comprehensive list of
things you’ve always wanted to try but were too scared to ask for.”

I nod, not at all embarrassed that he’s had a look at my
most intimate thoughts and fantasies. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so
comfortable with someone. I’d have to be considering that list consisted of
things like: giving a lap dance, stripping, having sex in a public place,
threesome fun. Apparently just a Wednesday night for good ol' Gabe. Of course I
was drunk when I made the list, and had Mr. Hot Pants egging me on. 

“Well, this is the place you can get it all done.” Gabe
says. His face is serious, but also soft. “Look, I know your first time can be
jarring. But lean on me, and I’ll get you through it. After all, we not only
worship Venus here, but every woman.”

Yeah, it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know, there is the
sexiest vibe in this room and I am sitting with the sexiest man. That’s saying
something because it’s like tryouts for
The Bachelor
and
The
Bachelorette
in here. Gor-geous. Maybe I just need to get
in scene
,
as they say in the lifestyle. Or so I’ve heard.

Gabe leans over the bar and orders two martinis and we take
a seat.

“So, like I said, this is the meeting room. The place where
you can meet people, pair off, or group off—if that’s your thing. Or just talk
and watch.”

“And once you pair up?”

“There are other rooms and places where you can go and do
whatever you’re in the mood for.”

“Sex?”

“If you wish.”

I do. With Gabe. Back in the limo.

“What is
inside
these rooms?”

“Depends. Over there,” Gabe points down a hall, “there’s
the touch room where it’s dark and people touch and fondle each other.”

I scrunch up my nose and look away.

“Don’t judge, it can be good for people with anxiety
issues,” Gabe says with a grin. “And some people find it exciting. No names. No
faces.”

“Judging by the faces in this room, I don’t know why anyone
would want that. Everyone in here is beautiful.”

“Yes, they are,” Gabe agrees. “This is an exclusive club
with some pretty strict requirements.”

“What? You have to be good looking to get in?” I ask
jokingly.

“Among other things,” Gabe adds with no trace of a smile.
He’s serious.

“Oh-kay. So tell me more about the rooms.”

“There’s a hot tub and pool area. A room with a stripper
pole just waiting for an impromptu show. A massage room. Rooms for watching or
being watched, and some other more dramatically-themed areas. Ready to run
yet?”

“Not quite yet,” I tell him. I’ve made it this far, I can’t
leave without doing something.

“Now take your time with this,” Gabe says when the
bartender delivers our martinis. “It’s a two-drink max here.”

“What?” That statement is almost as shocking as this
environment. “It seems like you’d have to be wasted to do half this stuff.”

“What would be the fun in that?” Gabe shakes his head.
“Trust me, if you choose to participate, you’ll want to remember every second
of it. Still, a drink or two doesn’t hurt to get in the mood and take the edge
off.”

We sip our drinks and gawk at the scene. There are several
people dressed in white milling about, the men are in pants and V-necks, and
the women are wearing little dresses with tall boots. They obviously work here,
but they’re not delivering drinks or taking orders. They’re carrying iPads and
talking to various people, directing them from room to room.

“Who are they?”

“Venus’s cupids,” Gabe answers. “They help pair people up
and give them the experience they’re looking for. You’ll meet yours soon
enough.”

“I don’t need a cupid,” I tell him, scooting a little
closer. “I have you.”

“Trust me,” he says. “They’ll be able to help you more than
I can. But I can take the lead tonight if that makes you feel better.”

“It does.”

“Okay then, if I’m in charge, I say we’ve had enough
sitting on the sidelines. Let’s dance.”