Page 24 of Accidental Baby For My Brother’s Best Friend

Gemma

Well, last night certainly didn’t go the way I expected. As I do the walk of shame from Axel Jermaine’s hotel room back down to my own, I miss the elevator and curse. Thank God Jackson is on the first floor while Axel is on the fifth, with my own hotel room being on the third floor. There’s no way I’ll run into him.

Not that Jackson has any right to be upset about what happened last night—especially since nothing happened.

Safely back in my own hotel room, I decide to take a bath instead of a shower, feeling like I need extra time to think. Sliding down into the hot water, I let out a long breath and allow myself to think about the last night.

Axel and I drank a bit (him more than me, I was still hurting from my friend tequila’s betrayal back in Albuquerque), and then snuck out to the hotel. I was definitely too drunk to get back to my room and I’d lost the card key to boot, so Axel offered up the couch in his suite.

Axel had been uncharacteristically quiet in the elevator, though, and it made me nervous. Axel is always talking, so when he‘s quiet, it usually means something bad. I was too drunk to care too much, though, so I let it go. As soon as I walked in the door, I kicked off my shoes and Axel was staring at me, his blue eyes conflicted.

“Gemma, you know that nothing is going to happen between us tonight, right?”

I scoffed, almost laughing, until I saw how serious his face was.

“Axel, what’s wrong?” It seemed uncharacteristic for him to shut down any possible hookup, even me. And even a blind man could see the one-eighty he had done on me. From overtly flirting to complete shutdown in two seconds flat. And I knew he wasn’t looking for anything serious with me. I wasn’t looking for anything serious myself, which made him perfect for me, so I had harbored some hope that maybe he wouldn’t mind helping me with this V-card issue. But looking at him now was like looking at a different man entirely.

“I can’t get over her.” His hands went to his face and he sat heavily down on the bed. He was looking so defeated.

Turns out Axel’s flirting over the last few weeks had been a coping mechanism, a distraction of sorts, and I would have been mad about it, if Axel didn’t seem so devastated. We spent the entire night talking about his ex. The silver band around his left ring finger, is actually is wedding ring, and I never knew, because he wears a few others, so it never occurred me to even ask.

Axel and his ex had been married for two years before things went to hell, and he hadn’t seen her now in over a year. She refuses to talk to him, but he is not exactly sure why.

We ended up talking all night, and I’d comforted him. As soon as he passed out on the couch around daylight, I’d made sure he was comfortable and snuck out.

* * *

It sucks that the first night I spend with the opposite sex (even after a night of heavy drinking), is utterly chaste. I sigh deeply, lowering myself further into the hot water. I feel restless, especially after last night. There’s something oddly exciting and arousing about sneaking around, and that was never more apparent than last night. My skin still feels hot, but not like it did when I was angry.

Sliding my hand down my throat to one of my breasts, heat bursts in my lower abdomen when my palm skids across my pebbled nipple. I’m no stranger to taking matters into my own hands—pun intended—even if I’m still a virgin in the literal sense of the word. However, I’m usually too busy, especially since the announcement for the tour, for this kind of self-care. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I had an orgasm, so it’s no wonder I’m feeling antsy. After all, I’ve been cooped up with all this testosterone for a few weeks now.

As my fingers slide between my lower lips, I close my eyes. I like to fantasize about some muscular, faceless man who will bring me to new heights of pleasure (blame my mother’s discarded Harlequin romances), and this time is no different. Fantasy Man has broad shoulders and a narrow waist and I imagine him tossing me on to my hotel bed. I bite my lip when my thumb slides across my clitoris, and the man’s face comes into view as I imagine him boxing me in with his strong arms on either side of me.

I see deep brown eyes, a slow smile with a full bottom lip, a long, straight nose with a silver hoop piercing on the left side. It doesn’t dawn on me until I’m gasping, my thighs trembling as I dip two fingers inside my entrance, that this is no longer a fantasy man at all, but Locke Kincaid. It’s too late to stop, though, I’m vaulted into an orgasm just as I pull my fingers away.

Heat floods my cheeks, and this time, it’s embarrassment instead of lust, and I get out of the bath without even washing my hair, which definitely needs it.

“This is all sleep deprivation,” I say out loud to myself, and maybe that’s part of it, but I’m a lot less giggly and a lot hornier for it to be that. It’s not like I don’t find Locke attractive, he’s a good-looking guy, and his look and style appeal to me. All of the members of the Spades are attractive, though. I’m used to being around male eye-candy, especially in this line of business. And yes, he is my type, to a T, but looks aren’t everything. We can barely tolerate each other. I’m sticking to my statement.

While I slip on a pair of denim cut-offs and a tank top, I tell myself the reason that I've been so attracted to Locke is that we’ve been in much closer quarters lately. It isn’t Locke, not exactly, it’s just that after the way he acted back in Albuquerque, he’s been on my mind.

You went home with Axel last night. Why not it him?My brain supplies, and I huff as I pull my hair, damp at the ends, into a high ponytail.

“Shut up,” I say. And yes, I’m talking to myself out loud. It’s been a long couple of weeks.

We have the big show tonight at Aphrodite’s Cavern, and I need to get some sleep so that I’m not giggly or horny during the show. As much as I’ve been thinking of punching my v-card, no way in hell I’m letting some stranger in Las Vegas do it.

No shame to women who pick up men in bars—I wish I had the courage. I just tend to need a bit of connection in order to be attracted to someone, and since Axel has a list of his own relationship problems, I resign myself to staying a virgin, at least until we’re back in Tucson.

I slide into the covers fully dressed so that I can sleep right up until it’s time to pull on my fishnets and do my makeup for the show. If only…

When I wake up, it feels like I’ve slept for ten minutes rather than three hours. Hopefully, that’s enough to make me act like a normal, functioning human being. I think about yesterday night, how happy and excited everyone seemed, particularly Locke.

The club had been standing-room only and it surprised me that Locke wrote “Keyed Up” because, not only is it the band’s most popular original song, but it’s my personal favorite, too. I help Jackson with lyrics now and again, and I never even think about asking for credit, so I suppose that’s how Locke feels, too. He looked so proud standing around with a group of fans around him, and I can’t help but think that kind of passion is hot.

Maybe that’s why I’ve been thinking about him so much lately. This tour has proven to me that Locke truly is in this for the music, and his music is good. Talent is attractive, right? I have no choice but to be somewhat enthralled.

I let out a deep yawn and half-heartedly fix my ponytail and put on my makeup, tugging on fishnets and boots that lace up my calves. Sometimes, it’s annoying that I have to dress up for every show, but marketing means you have to put your best face forward, and despite my lack of sleep, I think I do a pretty good job cleaning up nice.

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