Saving Abel (Rocker Series) (26 page)

A beep of a car horn had me jumping out of my skin.
Abel!
He pulled up in a triple black-on-black vintage Porsche. He jumped out, grabbing my messenger bag and throwing it in the back seat, before wrapping me in a smoldering kiss.

“Umm, Beauty. I’ve missed you.” His strong arms embraced my nervous energy, settling me right down. I could breathe again. I nestled under his chin, hugging him back. His lips found their way to his favorite spot—my collarbone. I shivered as a chill chased up my spine.

“You cold, babe? Get in: I’ll turn on the heat.” He opened the car door for me. I
was
cold without his warmth. But it was so much more than that, so much fucking more …

“It’s just the dampness,” I said, pointing to the sky. “The storm put a chill into me while I was waiting for you.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “My bad, Beauty. I just had this car delivered from L.A. on the transporter. I shipped it out here for you.”

“For me?” I asked, trying to decipher his meaning.

“Yes for you, my Beauty. It’s my first car I bought when we the band hit it big. I bought it with my own money. So it means something to me. It has more than equitable worth.” He beat his chest with his fist. “It means something in here.” He smiled. “It’s a 1963 Porsche 356B convertible. Whatcha think?”

He beamed over at me. What did I think? It was fucking awesome and suited him perfectly. The car was immaculate. It had to cost more than I made in two or three years, at least—maybe more.

“It’s all you, baby. All you. This car screams sexy rock star.” I laughed, looking around the interior. The car was a cream puff, worthy of it driver.

“I’m glad you approve.” He reached for my hand. “I had it shipped for you. I want you to drive it,” he said, kissing my hand.

“Wait. What?” I asked, thinking I had heard him wrong.

“You heard right, babe. It yours.” He chuckled at my stunned expression.

I screamed. “Mine? No fucking way, Abel! You can’t go giving classic cars away. Who does that?” I was still confused. Was he serious or was this another test? It wouldn’t have surprised me if it was, with the kind of day I had had.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want, Gia. Now, get in the driver’s seat and drive your new car,” he said, getting out and opening my door. He walked me around the front of the Porsche, shining the emblem as we passed. His eyebrows furrowed. Was he pissed?
Fuck
. I hadn’t meant to aggravate him, or to sound ungrateful. However, this was all just too much. I’d never been given anything of this magnitude—and certainly not from a boyfriend. I wasn’t even sure how to respond. I didn’t do feelings. In fact, I couldn’t remember a day in my life when I felt joyful and elated apart from Abel. The sides of my stomach and behind my ears itched: this was my anxiety’s way of reminding me who owned me.

I sat down in the driver’s seat. He adjusted the seat forward with the back rest reclined slightly, then buckled the seat belt into place. He kissed my forehead, lingering there for a few seconds. I scanned the dashboard: nothing looked familiar to me. This was not my Honda Accord. Although my car was fairly new, this car was older than the both of us, and yet somehow today’s technology paled in comparison. Thank God, I knew how to drive a manual transmission. I didn’t want to seem not only ungrateful, but moronic as well.

I released the emergency break and shifted into first gear, slowly making a U-turn out of the parking lot. A silver Mercedes sedan caught my eye. The woman in front had binoculars. The gentleman next to her was holding a camera with a huge lens. The driver smirked.
Morgana.

I was perplexed by Gia’s reticent posture when I had hugged her. Something was wrong with my girl—and it wasn’t just that she was pissed because I was late picking her up. She hadn’t seemed especially enthusiastic about the car, either. Most girls would have jumped for joy, and then gone down on their knees to show my cock their gratitude.

Either way, I’d get to the bottom of it. I had my own secrets. Eventually, she’d trust me enough to tell me, or the relationship would just end. I hoped it didn’t turn out the latter way. My hope was that she’d take an extended leave from her job—which I fully intended to pressure my father into approving. It was the least he could do, to make up for his intrusive, unloving, and cold nature. He would always justify his behavior by saying he was doing it for the family.
Fucking yeah, right.

But this afternoon, I had a surprise for my Beauty. We were meeting Woody and Cindy for dinner and drinks at the local bar where our band got its first break. Band Aid Showcase was a meet-and-greet location for up-and-coming bands, frequented by record reps, talent agents, and a whole lot of adoring fans.

I rested my hand on her thigh, rubbing the denim of her blue jeans. Just being near her and inhaling her intoxicating scent got me hard as fuck—especially when she was turned on like she was now. Her arousal filled the air. Thank God the top was down. If we had been in an enclosed space. I would’ve had to fuck her, no doubt about it.

At the light, she leaned over, placing a kiss on my cheek. “What was that for, Beauty?” I asked, bringing her hand to my lips.

“Just because you’re you.” She smiled. “You make me happy.” And then she beamed. It felt fucking good. It felt
right
.

“Have you given any thought to coming on tour?” I asked, wondering if it was even possible she’d say yes. I was losing my mind thinking about leaving her behind. I’d sweeten the pot anyway I could to convince her.

“No. But I will say I’m seriously considering it. I really want to go. I have some savings. It’s not much. But I should be okay,” she elaborated. My heart rejoiced, but I also felt hurt by the fact that she thought I wouldn’t take care of her. She didn’t need money. She’d go as my … my
what?
My
girlfriend
. There, I said it. She’d go as my
girlfriend.
And my girlfriend wouldn’t want for a thing.

“Make a right at the light, then take a left into the parking lot of Band Aid’s Showcase,” I instructed. She side-eyed me with a grin tugging on her lips. Fuck, she was beautiful.

So I laid it on the line. “Let me be real fucking clear so this convo never comes up again. When you’re with me, money is not your worry. If I’ve invited you on my tour, that means I’m not expecting you to pay for anything. I mean
anything
. If that makes you uncomfortable, get over it. You’re not taking my balls from me. Men take care of their women. You’re
my
woman,” I said emphatically—although I felt like beating my chest. Yep, the fucking caveman wanted this woman over his shoulder where he could protect her and take her any time he pleased.

“Wow, we’re going here? The last time I was here I was a senior in high school. A lifetime ago. Someone’s playing here you want to see?” she asked, as she parked the car and pulled the emergency brake. “Who does the great Abel Gunner want to see in this place? Come on, really,” she giggled.

“You’ve never googled me?” I asked, finding that unbelievable. That’s the first thing chicks always did.

“Nope, never.” She continued to laugh, finding humor in the situation. I leaned over the console, tickling her sides, which made her kick. We both laughed.

“If you had, you’d know this is where we got our first break,” I said proudly, finger-combing my hair before we went in. Then I climbed out, walking over to the driver’s side to open her door. She took my hand, and I guided her up and out onto her feet. She stood on her toes to reach my lips for a kiss. So many feelings were churning in the pit of my stomach—love being one of them. Her kiss was chaste, because the bouncer met us halfway to shake hands.

Wally had been with the bar since it opened. He was an ex-Hell’s Angel—bad, tatted, and one intimidating fucker. It was nostalgic being back here. The band always came back, paying it forward to other bands. We were still a group of down-to-fucking-earth dudes. I introduced Gia to him. They said their hellos as he escorted us to the table where Cindy and Woody were seated. It was the band’s official table with Lethal Abel’s name engraved on a silver plated tag and our signatures signed across the top. I escorted her with my hand laid possessively across her lower back. I wanted every fucker in this place to know we were together—that she was
mine
.

Leaning down to her ear, I whispered, “Surprise, Beauty.”

Woody pulled me into a man-hug. It wasn’t hard to miss the excitement in her smile, as she embraced Cindy fiercely. I was glad we were hanging with them tonight. She’d miss Cindy on the road, so I wanted her to spend extra time with her now. Cindy had given me her blessing, so long as I had promised to send her tickets and fly her out to meet us. Thank fuck. I didn’t want my Beauty getting homesick. In fact, I was so concerned about it, I had told Cindy I would speak to Gia’s parents, if it would help. She had emphatically stated, “Absolutely not,” saying her mother was a single parent and not much in the way of a mother, at that. I had disagreed at first, until she had explained a little bit about Gia’s past to me. After hearing what kind of home life Gia had had growing up, I wanted to protect her all the more. I decided I’d have to investigate the situation with her mother further.

“Thank you, baby,” she cooed, pulling me into the booth to take her proper seat on my lap. I leaned in, sticking my nose into her hair, inhaling deeply. Umm, she smelled so fucking good.

“Anything for you, Beauty,” I reassured her, reaching around to take full advantage of her lips. Her tongue fought for dominance, but quickly submitted to mine. Tasting her mouth was akin to bathing in a vat of peaches and fresh cream: it was fucking delicious.

“For fuck’s sake,” Woody broke in. “Now that you’ve properly tasted her tonsils, can we order?” He climbed into the booth next to Cindy, swinging his arm around her. She giggled, leaning into him.

“Yeah, what he said,” Cindy chimed in, motioning her thumb towards Woody. “Margaritas. Let’s get a pitcher. You guys handle the food. We’ll eat anything,” she announced, looking towards Gia, who nodded in agreement. This was too easy. These two were cool chicks.

“We don’t do margaritas. Men drink beer or liquor,” I declared, nodding towards Woody, who agreed readily. There was light Top-40 music playing in the background. The DJ was in a booth next to the stage. The owner, CJ, came over to us, pulling up a chair.

“Boys! How the hell are you? It’s been awhile.” He shook our hands. “Glad you’re here tonight. The band that’s booked didn’t show.” He grinned at us, pulling his black hair into a ponytail. Fuck. I knew what that meant—what he wanted us to do.

“So ya lookin’ for us to sort ya out?” Woody guessed. Exactly. The girls clapped happily, drawing the attention of CJ. He was a pervert. I knew it was only a matter of time before the girls had caught his eye. Normally, we all shared groupies. Didn’t give a fuck. He was thoughtful for a moment, as a slow creepy smile dawned on his face.

“You two are pretty, sexy little things, aren’t you?” He leaned over to Gia, who was still sitting on my lap.

When he moved to kiss her cheek, I blocked him. “Unless you want to lose your face, friend, I’d advise you not to put your lips on my girlfriend,” I said angrily. The air was sucked out of the room, and it seemed that everything came to a complete standstill. Woody looked at me, then at Cindy. Cindy looked at Gia, then at Woody. CJ’s eyebrows quirked in amusement. He sat back, lighting a cigarette.

“Is that so?” He blew the smoke out of his nose. Gia’s body went stiff in my lap. I curled my arm around her belly, pulling her tight against me.

“That’s so,” I smirked back.

He slammed his hand down on the table, shaking it. The girls jumped. I tightened my hold. Then Wood, CJ, and I started laughing heartily. I’d never publicly claimed anyone, ever, as my girlfriend—not even Morgana. So CJ realized when I staked my claim on Gia that I was in was in deep with her.
Fuck.
I
was
in deep. Real fucking deep. Balls-deeps. The girls eyed us warily.

“What. In .The. Fuck. Just. Happened?” Cindy asked—which only made us laugh even harder. I whispered to Beauty that I’d tell her later in private.