Forgiving Gia (Rocker Series Book 2) (24 page)

“Not yet you don’t see one. But soon…very soon.”

Woody looked over, smiling with his pool stick. Shut the fuck up. I knew his ribbing was coming. Three…two…one.

“Is that so, mate?” he said, smacking my back. “Fucking brilliant.” He drove his hand through my hair.

“Fuck off, you queer fuck.” I pushed his hand away, fixing my new Mohawk fade.

“Nah, that be your assistant. I use my dick for pussy.” He grabbed himself through his jeans.

“How about we celebrate the three of us.” The slut hopped up on the pool table pulling her skirt up.

Damn. I didn’t expect that. Woody and I watched as she teased her fingers alongside the edges of her panties. Christ. I needed to get the fuck out of here.

“I want you to sing to my pussy, Abel. Woody can busy himself up here.” She opened her blouse.

Was she fucking kidding me? I looked toward the balcony for Dave. This chick needed to fucking leave. Or I needed to go. I looked to Woody for help. The others had their hands filled with tits and ass.

“Hold on, love. For fuck’s sake. You need to sort yourself. We’re playing an important game here. Not the ideal spot to be showing off yer box, sweetheart,” Woody said, looking for help. Game? Really? No fucking way was I touching that hot mess. “She’s a bloody mess. Help me, you fucker.”

I pulled down her skirt to cover her panties. “I’m fucking done. I’m not touching her. Ender? Get your ass over here,” I called out. With his phone in his hand, he stumbled over…fucking hammered.

Woody had her tits in his hand. “Sweet baby Jesus, they’re real.” He looked surprised. “Jake. Where’s Jake? He’s got to feel these fun bags.”

“I’m out.” I turned to leave. I was on a different journey than these fuckers. I was looking forward to bathing in Gia’s sweet scent. She was home for me.

“Can you take a selfie with me?” a young blonde asked. “Please? Two seconds,” she pleaded.

What the hell. I hadn’t done any promo or press lately. What’s a harmless selfie?

She was a tiny thing. I had to bend down. “Sure.”

She held up her phone and took a quick picture. “Thanks, I’ve been in love with you like since…forever.” She grinned weirdly. She came across very
Amy Dunne.
Fuck that noise.

I got the hell out of there before she tried to make me her
Nick
. This party had disaster written all over it. I walked out the door, leaving the party and all the shit with it behind. Later.

We were on the last leg of the tour. Lethal Abel was playing at the same venue U2 played—the Olympic Stadium in Turin, Italy. The name of the town was unfamiliar to me. But Italy was Italy, right? It was crazy cool to even be there, sharing this with him. I felt really bad about Cindy not being able to make it. With me being on the road for so long, they hired a temp and she had to be trained. Cindy was now the office manager, giving her more responsibilities. Which was a great step professionally. Personally, not so much.

It was so beautiful there. Dark leaved trees held bright lush fruit. The contrast was stunning. The aromatic smell was divine. It did my stomach a world of good. Finally. Now, if I could get my hunger under control, we’d be peachy.

My Sir spoiled me rotten and I soaked it up. He lavished me with spa days. By night, we ate by candlelight on our terrace. And the sex…it was so much more. He dedicated endless hours to giving me the most exquisite orgasms. Oh, I gave as good as I got, too. After he cared for me, he called a chef to come make me sugar crepes for dessert. That was this week’s flavor. I’ve tried them all. God, I was going to be a cow if I didn’t stop. For all the puking I did, I figured it all evened out in the end. I still had that voicemail on my phone. I refused to listen to it. I figured if I listened, it would make it real. Then, I wouldn’t be able to pretend the obvious.

“Get out of the window, love, and come back to bed.” He stretched across the bed for me. His colored skin was a stark contrast to the crisp white sheets.

I often watched him when he slept. He had such a peaceful look for such a broody man. To look at him, you’d never think he was as loving, caring, romantic, or affectionate as he was. His piercings, more than anything, else gave him a rough edge. An edge I loved to walk. All people saw was his scars. The lies on his skin. They didn’t know the real Abel. He was more than just his skin. He was my beautiful contradiction. If he could see himself the way I saw him. He’d know how special he was—is.

Being the impatient, broody caveman he was, he got up and carried me back to bed. “Give me that lush ass of yours, Beauty. How many times am I going to tell you no clothes in bed?” He tickled me.

“Hey, it’s not clothes, it’s a nighty and it’s see through. You make it sound like I’m in sweatpants and socks. You picked this out…remember?” I mocked him. He didn’t like my fresh mouth. I knew as much. I was being a brat. He complained about it, but I knew he loved it.

“It’s for show.” He laughed. “I want to see and enjoy all those curves.” He started removing my nighty. Curves? Was he saying I was getting fat?

“What the fuck does that mean? Curves…that’s a polite way of saying chunky. Right?” I sat up. I was eating like I was going to the chair, but so was he.

“Not at all, head-case. I’m glad to see your finally enjoying your food and keeping it down.” He kissed my shoulder, then preceded to kiss down my arm to my hand, individually kissing every fingertip.

There was a knock at the door.
Breakfast.
Ummhmm. I jumped up and grabbed my robe.

“I’m sending that fucker away. Get your sweet ass back in bed. I’m eating you for breakfast this morning,” he said, slipping on his sweatpants.

“Oh, hell no! You have me for breakfast every morning. Annnd this
curvy girl
needs all the kinds of delishiness he has on his cart,” I said with air quotes and ran to the door beating him. Oh, hell to the no. I wanted to have
my
crepes.

All wide-eyed, he smirked at me. That’s right motherfucker. I’m in charge this morning. As if he were in my head, he raised an eyebrow. He needed to stay out of my head. That’s the thing with living together. He was a proficient mind-reader. Argh.

“You can set up right over there. I want to watch how you make these. I’ll be over here on my curvy chair,” I told the nice Italian man, then stuck my tongue out at Abel. I didn’t worry whether the chef understood me or not. English was a requirement at the big hotels.

“Il mio piacere bella signora,” he said, moving into the suite.

I loved the way whatever he said sounded. Sigh. I sat in my curvy chair watching him set up. The broody alpha, as per usual, stared him down obnoxiously.

“Take it down a notch, will ya? You’re messing with my juju. And I don’t want you messing with his. He’s feeding us,” I said, elaborating with my hands.

Abel squinted at me suspiciously. “That right there…is Chance. You can’t hang out with him anymore. I’m not going to have you acting like a bratty-gay-man,” he said, picking his phone off the charger.

“Don’t you dare text him and tell him he can’t hang out with me. He’s my only girlfriend here.” I pouted.

“He’s a man. He’s not a girlfriend.” He huffed.

The chef giggled to himself. Hmm. He was a cutie and Chance’s type. I sat there tapping on my chin, lost in thought.

“Don’t even think about playing match-maker, Beauty. You have enough to deal with,” he said, opening the Italian newspaper. Jackass.

“Oh, yeah? What do I have to deal with?” I knew he didn’t have logical answer. I did absolutely nothing but shop and spend time with him.

“Me.” He smiled beautifully, a twinkle of mischief behind his sooty lashes. The morning sun created a halo behind him. He was anything but angelic. Him and his perfectly long sooty lashes. He was a walking-talking-orgasm.

“You’ve got that Amy Dunne look,” he kidded.

“Christ, ever since we watched that movie, you say that about every girl.” He was being ridiculous and paranoid. Not a good look.

He laughed. “That’s because she fucked with my head. One-big-mind-fuck, Gia. Thanks.”

“She was just pissed he cheated.” I snorted. “He did the same lip in the snow/sugar thingy. So she’s justified. He was a prick.” I shook my head. He was, and I stand by that. If Abel ever did that… I shudder to think what I would do to him and her.

He put the paper down just in time for our crepes. He removed me from my chair, carrying me to the outside table. It was my usual spot where I sat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. His lap. He had a fixation where I sat and a heavy food fetish. He insisted on feeding me. At first, I was embarrassed by it. Now, it was my reality.

“Umm,” I moaned as he fed me my first bite of lemon crepe. I heard the inside door opening. “Thank you, Pasquale,” I yelled over Abel’s shoulder.

“E Strato un piacere. Godetevi,” he answered, closing the door behind him.

“Whatever he said sounded great.” I couldn’t care less. As long as he came back later.

“He said you’re very welcome. Enjoy,” Abel explained.

“Now you know Italian?” I wiped my mouth. Funny. I mean, I shouldn’t have been surprised and yet, I was. Ha.

“Dopo questa fascia MI mangio che pussy,” he responded in perfect Italian. I knew pussy. However, what was the rest? Did I want to know?

“Tell me,” I asked as he placed another piece into my mouth. Sigh. Heaven…

“After this crepe, I’m going to eat that pussy,” he translated.

Sounded good to me. I nodded. “Kay. I’m totally in.” I chewed, enjoying my last bite. I didn’t get to wipe my mouth. He used his talented tongue to lick the sugar from my lips.

He picked me up, whisking us to the bedroom where he opened the French doors to the terrace to let the warm breeze in. His hands unwrapped me like his favorite present. His eyes were dark with thirst. His scent was potent. I could smell when he was turned on. If I ever repeated that to another human, they would hardly believe me. However, I noticed a change in smell. My nose was super sensitive to all scents. I could smell his heady fragrance. It made my legs quiver. My body knew it was time to prepare for the dragon. As of late, I was beyond wet. It was kind of embarrassing. He loved it. I suspected he’d say that about anything sexually related to us. He fucking loved everything.

“Open those gorgeous thighs and let me smell you, Beauty. I want to taste what is mine.” His chest rumbled. The vibration I was sure was heard throughout the hotel. It wasn’t even human. I swear.

Mouth closed, eyes on him, and legs open while Master feasted. I knew the drill as I chased Alice down the never-ending-rabbit-hole-of-orgasms. My hands always went to my head. Yeah, I basically ripped my hair out. Thankfully, it was growing like crazy. No impending baldness there. I was positive he opened the terrace doors for Pasquale and any other chefs to hear what he was doing to
his.
I couldn’t pay that any mind at the moment. The never ending orgasm barreled hard and fast. Before the quake stopped, he shoved his cock in, riding it out with me as he sent me into another. His arms were under my knees, spreading me wide for him. I loved that position. I could watch each and every set of his perfect eight-pack engage. It was like sexual pinball for my eyes. Lord, and that V divot. When his pants hung low, my eyes were never far behind, and neither were Chance’s. True story.

“Oh, God please.” I couldn’t help but scream. He was a God. A fucking sex God.

“Do you know what your screams do to me, Beauty?” he growled mid-pump. “I want to come all over that bare pussy and parade you around, showing everyone what’s
mine.
”

Oh, so not happening. I was afraid he’d consider it the way he’s been acting lately.

“On your knees, baby girl. Open that mouth and show me that pink tongue,” he said, throwing a pillow on the tile for me. I kneeled down, sticking out my tongue while keeping his gaze. “Fuck, you’re my wettest dream.” He worked his cock while I patiently waited for him to explode in my mouth. I could tell by his shoulder movements that he was twisting his shaft hard while the other hand pulled his sac. Three, two, one….

He shot a thick rope of cream on my tongue. “This is for that bratty mouth.”

“Thank you, Sir.” He shot another on my cheek. Another rope across my tits. And finally all over my chin. He liked to watch it drip. I wasn’t allowed to wipe. His hawk-like eyes watched as his come slowly dripped from my chin, down my tits…to my stomach. When he was satisfied, he scooped me up to shower me, singing “Say Hello to Heaven
.
”