Page 26 of Go Deep

But for me, it’s more time spent in someone else’s skin, hiding, lying, wishing I was strong enough to act on Eva’s words, words I think about over and over again…especially since that last meeting with Gabe Kelly.

I’ve never been so strung out over a guy before, and for as much as I want to see him again, to tempt my carnal urges, to dominate him and take some shred of control back in my life, it scares the shit out of me to have these thoughts and feelings. The guy just sacrificed his livelihood by exposing himself in a way I never could.

And beyond the obvious hotness factor, his strength and confidence make me obsess over him even more.

Dangerous with a capital D.

He’s the forbidden fruit I long to sink my teeth into.

So I do the only thing I can to self-protect…ever since our lunch, I’ve dodged every single one of his requests that’s come across my desk.

I can’t be around him. Period.

He makes me question what could be…if I were someone else, living a different life.

But I’m not that person. And thisismy life, like it or not.

I take another long gulp of scotch, enjoying the fiery sensationas it burns a path to my stomach. Between the pulsating beat from the band and the noise level in this room, I need something to silence the voices in my head.

I wander through the crowd, shaking hands, exchanging bullshit pleasantries, thanking people for their well-wishes about my dad, laughing at the same stupid jokes. These people have no idea who I really am, and to me, they represent dollar signs, nothing more.

It’s always business for me. I’ve played this role for so long, I don’t know any other way to be. Letting go of my inhibitions means I’d have to be myself, and that’s a luxury I can’t allow myself to have.

Dammit, Eva. Why’d you even plant the seed?

The din of the crowd is finally muted by the time I drain my glass. I wander outside to watch the band’s second set. Colored spotlights illuminate the stage and sky, flying around at a break-neck speed. Christ, they’re making me more than a little dizzy. Maybe I should have grabbed a few of those sliders before I sucked down an entire bottle of scotch.

“Great turnout, boss.” Jeanette sidles over. “Lots of consultations already in the works.”

“You did a terrific job pulling all this together. Thanks.” My eyes focus on the lead singer of Sin City strumming the strings on his guitar. Brixton something or other.

Sex on a fucking stick, and that’s an understatement.

“So, as a reward, do I get to meet the band? Brixton Scott is so fierce. I’d love to see some of theotherthings he can do with those fingers.” Jeanette nudges my shoulder, jolting me from my own fantasy.

“Yeah…” Shit. My eyes almost bug out of my skull, and I hurl myself into a self-induced coughing fit when I realize what I just admitted to Jeanette. But she’s so focused on the guy that it doesn’t even register. Thank fuck. “I mean, yeah, of course, you can meet them. I’ll take care of it. It’s the least I can do for all your help.”

She winks at me. “Yes, it is. I expect an early bonus check to be sitting on my desk in the morning, too.” Ballsy as hell, but she’s one of the best so I indulge her.

“I’m surprised you didn’t already write it out and cash it.”

“I want to see how much I’m worth to you.” Forwardanddrunk. Not a great combo. I’ve made it a habit not to screw my employees, and I’m not about to start now. Even in my drunken fog, I know this can get out of control fast if I don’t squelch it.

“Jeanette, you’re worth so much I?—“

A hard object nails me in the back, turning my next words into a loud groan. I stumble into some guy standing in front of me. The guy is big and broad. I can feel the muscles ripple in his back when I plow into him. It’s a good thing we’re far back from the metal railing, or else we’d be body surfing over the screaming crowd below.

“Oh no. I’ll get some napkins. Don’t move.” Jeanette spins around and pushes her way back inside as icy cold droplets of something sticky drizzle down my back.

Good thing I’m wearing black. Silver lining.

It’s too dark to catch a glimpse of his face from the profile. It’s not until he twists around that I see…

Gabe Kelly.

The guy I’ve been simultaneously avoiding and fantasizing about is standing right in front of me. His spicy cologne wafts in the air, teasing my nostrils, resurrecting all the X-rated thoughts I’d been trying so desperately to bury in the depths of my now lust-infused mind.

How is it possible that there are goosebumps popping up on any part of my anatomy right now, after I’ve just consumed half a distillery’s worth of liquor? How can I drink in hismasculine scent and feelanything? So much for the scotch-induced numbness.

---