His Inspiration Read online

  Bex forced a smile and looked up at Gabe. His eyes were already fixed on hers, and it made her pause, her stomach bottoming out.

  “Okay, fine. Just show me what to do.” She walked across the room and lifted the toy. It was a pretty one.

  Gabe stepped forward, moving with the same confident ease he’d displayed in the bedroom, and the air sucked right out of her. It was too late to run, but being this close to him was dangerous.

  “Here.” He brushed his fingers over hers and molded her hand to the toy. Bex squirmed, burning under his touch. She fought the urge to lean into him, into the rich scent of his cologne. Why did he have to smell so good?

  Gabe stepped back, lifting the camera to his eye, and she was almost disappointed. He snapped a few photographs, asking her to arrange her hands in different positions as he worked. “I’ve gotta say, Bex, this was a nice surprise.”

  “My sex toys?”

  He laughed. “All of it.” He lowered the camera and met her eye. “Ready for one last one?” When she nodded, he said, “Say ‘sex toy.’”

  He raised the lens and snapped a picture of her laugh.

  Emma knocked on the doorframe of the studio and stuck her head inside. “Things almost wrapped up in here?”

  Bex glanced up with a ten-inch dildo in her hand and a smile on her face. For the last hour she’d acted as Gabe’s hand model, and though her fingernails didn’t match any vibrators after that first one, he didn’t seem to mind. The more time she spent with him, the less she wanted to run away. She still wanted to kill Emma, though.

  Bex raised an eyebrow at Gabe, and he nodded. “Should be just about done.” He snapped a final image and smiled at her. “You can return your magic sex toys to wherever they came from.”

  “Thanks.” Bex folded her stupid hands behind her back, resisting the urge to touch him. How was it already five o’clock?

  Gabe slipped the camera strap over his head, then settled the camera into his bag and secured it in place. She glanced around the room and frowned. “Can I help you pack anything up? Emma’s going to put away the toys.”

  He smiled at her like he knew the offer was a white flag. “Yeah, that would be great.” He showed her how to break down the light stands, and she folded together their legs to make them easier to carry.

  They worked, side by side, Gabe’s shoulder so close to hers she could feel the heat of his body. “So, Bex.” She turned, and their noses were an inch apart. Again. The last time this had happened, she’d wound up naked and so well-fucked she couldn’t think straight. “Can I treat you to dinner as a thank you?” His low voice made her stomach tremble, and her pulse kicked up.

  Bex stumbled backward and almost crashed into a camera bag. She was going to make some bad decisions the longer she hung around him. “That’s really sweet of you. But I had plans to go out with Emma.”

  Gabe turned to look over his shoulder, and she shot a pointed glance at Emma, who’d finished carting off the vibrators. Come on, Emma. Take the hint.

  Emma’s face flashed a mischievous look for a hair of a second. “Actually, I’m starting to feel a little out of sorts.” She frowned. “You know. Sick.”

  Motherfucker.

  Emma sealed the deal by faking a cough.

  Bex was going to kill her twice. First for leaving her alone with Gabe, and then for bailing on her again. Emma may have loved to play matchmaker with the rest of her friends, but it wasn’t going to work with Bex. Especially not with Gabe. That’s not where this was going.

  But the man turned back to her, hopeful and—dammit—endearing. “What do you say? Going to let me feed you?”

  She liked him. She liked that he was good with his body, that he made her laugh, and that when she started getting all dorky about technology he kept looking at her like she was gorgeous.

  Shit.

  Bex sighed. “Okay, fine. But to warn you, I’m not one of those girls who doesn’t eat.”

  Gabe looked so delighted. “I like a woman with an appetite.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Good,” she said. “Then let’s go.”

  Chapter 6

  Across the wood-topped table, Bex bit into her hamburger and moaned. Gabe trained his eyes on the sensual curve of her mouth, and his cock hardened under the table. How the fuck could she do that? Make a sound that shot him straight back to that night, to the feeling of her coming around him, her voice in his ear, his heart on the line. Did she even know the effect she had on him?

  Bex set down her burger and tilted her head. “Why are you looking at me like that?” She pressed a napkin to her lips. “Do I have something on my face?”

  He smirked at her. “I have never seen someone take down a burger with such…gusto.”

  “Yeah, well, I told you I like to eat.”

  He pictured her hot mouth around his cock, his hands fisted in her red hair. “I’m pretty sure you make it into an art form. I approve.”

  Bex rolled her eyes and reached for a french fry. “Speaking of art forms, do you do product photography all the time?”

  Gabe shrugged. “Every now and then. I take what I can to pay the bills, but I want to create more fine art images. Like what you saw the other night.” He hadn’t planned to bring it up, but now that it was out there… “Why’d you run away?” His voice scraped like a confession—like he’d been hurt. And maybe he had. Because something about her pulled him even at the same time she was pushing him away.

  Here, in this tiny restaurant with the dinnertime crowd murmuring around them, he held her gaze. It was almost more intimate than when they’d been fully naked.

  Bex stared right into him, vulnerable, with her lower lip trembling as she absorbed his question. She said nothing, her breath drawing in. In the background a busboy cleared tables, wiping everything clean and whole.

  At last she spoke. “That’s not really a thing I do. Dating people.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just don’t need it, I guess. I enjoy sex, but intimacy is…more complicated.” Bex offered a self-deprecating smile. “Anyway, in my line of work, it makes things easier.”

  Something in her voice made Gabe press. There was more to this than she was letting on, and he wasn’t going to let it go that easy. “So you make pleasure toys for a living but aren’t particularly concerned with having a relationship that can bring you pleasure?” A crease formed between Bex’s pretty eyes, and he nudged her foot under the table. “Why are you frowning?”

  She blushed, a wash of color that highlighted the freckles trailing across her pale skin like a constellation. She was a whole galaxy—and full of just as many secrets. “I never really thought of it that way.” She shrugged. “But I guess it’s true.”

  “You do realize how confusing that makes you.”

  Bex cracked a smile. “I prefer the term ‘well-rounded.’ Anyway, guys can have sex without love. They do it all the time. That’s proof there’s a difference between physical and emotional connections.”

  If she were going to play that game, then Gabe would, too. “So would you like to have an ongoing physical relationship with me?” He flashed her what he hoped was a convincing smile, and her mouth dropped open.

  “Are you trying to woo me?”

  “Only because it makes me happy.”

  Bex shook her head. “Here’s the problem, Gabe.”

  “There is no problem. You can’t deny this thing between us.” Hell, the air practically crackled when they were together—their pull an electric connection.

  She shook her head. “Not so fast, cowboy.”

  He grinned and leaned his elbows on the table. Screw the food. Bex was way more intriguing than his rapidly-cooling burger, anyway. “What’s that?”

  “I’ve got a design competition I need to win at work, so I need more inspiration to help me design a kick-ass product. I usually get my inspiration from what people don’t do right during sex. And you were too good in bed for that to happen. So you’re useless to me.”


  “I’m sorry—what? Did you just say I was too good in bed?” That’s the excuse she wanted to give him for pushing him away? Not that she had some angry boyfriend or that she was, in fact, a lesbian? How the hell was being too good in bed even a deterrent?

  Bex rolled her eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

  “I feel like that’s an unfair penalty, considering you weren’t complaining the other night.”

  “Well, it’s the way I work.”

  Gabe crumpled his napkin and threw it onto his plate. “Well, sorry I’m useless to you. At least I can make you smile.” Which of course made her frown again, a crease forming between her eyes.

  He drew a deep breath. He was drowning and he might never be able to come up for air. “You know what, forget I said anything.”

  Bex pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and sighed. “No, don’t be mad.” She set an elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. “I know I can be pretty blunt sometimes.”

  “Don’t worry, my ego is intact.”

  She snorted and looked at him through her lashes. Then she tapped her fingers against her chin as she considered. “Tell me, Gabe, do you like trivia?”

  “Is this because you saw that book in my room?” He was going to bring up his bedroom as much as he possible to remind her of every heated moment between them. Maybe then she would stop trying to run away.

  “I might have seen a book.” Bex narrowed her eyes at him. “So? Do you like trivia?”

  “As a concept or as a sport?”

  “Both.”

  Why the hell not play along? “Sure,” he said.

  Bex burst into a glorious smile—her eyes sparkling and her cheeks bright. “In that case, what are you doing later tonight?”

  You, he wanted to say. Instead he cocked his head. “You tell me.”

  Bex clapped her hands together. “It’s Trivia Night at The Walton. You want to join?”

  “Ta-da.” Bex waved her hands around the small, dark bar with a flourish, looking at Gabe with a smile.

  “So this is The Walton.” He glanced around the place. “Not bad.”

  The Walton was sort of a dive, but in that comfortable, friendly way where you felt like you could accidentally spill something without getting the evil eye from the waitstaff. Not that you’d want to spill something, of course. But if it happened, you weren’t going to ruin someone’s night.

  Neon signs cast a red glow onto the room’s exposed brick walls, where paintings of old-town Las Vegas hung at odd intervals. Mirrors set behind the bottles on the bar reflected back a cheerful room of patrons, and a slick of dark polish topped the actual bar. Tea lights flickered in mismatched vessels on the wood-topped tables around the room. Gabe loved it.

  Bex gestured at a table toward the back of the room. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

  Her butt swayed in a hypnotic rhythm as she walked toward the bar. She had a good ass—high and round—topping long, slim legs. All of Bex was willowy and graceful, actually, down to her arms and fingertips. When she was in motion, she moved like the breeze through trees.

  Bex reached the bar, and the bartender came up beside her, wiping his hand on a rag. Bex laughed at something he said, and when he slid his arms around her, he also pressed a kiss to her cheek.

  Gabe prickled, his whole body going tense. What the hell was this? Even if she didn’t want to sleep with him anymore—which he didn’t, for a second, believe—bringing him to a bar and shoving his competition in his face was a low move.

  Instead of waiting patiently, he followed her. He cleared his throat as he approached, and the bartender dropped his hands.

  “Everything okay?” Gabe asked.

  Bex looked between the men and laughed. “Getting territorial, Gabe?”

  Maybe he was. His jaw was wired so tight that the muscles in his neck ached. “Just making sure no one’s bothering you.” Now the guy smiled too, like a smug prick. “I’m glad this is all so funny for everyone,” Gabe said.

  Bex huffed a soundless laugh. “Sam’s my brother.” She gestured to a petite brunette flitting between the tables. “And Aderyn is my sister-in-law.”

  Sam stuck out his hand, and now Gabe could see the resemblance—the cut-glass cheekbones, the straight nose, the wide mouth. But where Bex was all fire, Sam’s scruff of hair was a dark, ash blond. “Sam Kingsley. Proprietor of this humble house of sin.”

  Gabe shook his hand reluctantly. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Are you two here for trivia?”

  “It looks that way.”

  Bex smiled at Sam. “I think we owe Gabe a drink on the house.”

  “What am I, a business or a charity?” Sam grumbled.

  Bex elbowed her brother. “We’ll be at our table when that beer is ready.”

  She steered Gabe toward the table she’d originally chosen. “You should have seen the look on your face,” she laughed.

  “You may have friend-zoned me, but I didn’t say I liked it.” He flattened his palms against the table and gave Bex a dark look. She squirmed, and he bit back a grin. She’d liked that look the other night. Had gotten so damn wet when he’d flashed his eyes at her. It was good to know he could still make an impact—that no matter what she said today, that attraction hadn’t gone away overnight.

  Bex sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, Gabe. I shouldn’t have laughed. And the friend thing isn’t because of anything you did wrong.”

  There—he knew it. But as much as he wanted to push his agenda, if he were ever going to have a real chance with her, being too forward tonight was going to kill it. He had to let it go.

  Gabe nodded and sank into the chair across from Bex, putting his back to the room. She was the only thing worth looking at, anyway. “So, is Trivia Night a regular thing for you?”

  Bex brightened at the change of topic and seemed to find her stride. “Every Wednesday, as long as I’m able. We’ve got a rotating crowd, but our team has been the house champion for months now.”

  A voice added over Gabe’s shoulder, “And not just because her family owns the bar.”

  Bex shot a warm look at the brunette who’d appeared with two beers in hand. “Aderyn, meet Gabe. Gabe, meet Aderyn.”

  Aderyn nodded. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Happy to be here,” he said. And it was true. Something about this place felt like home. Even if he overlooked the definite bonus of the free beer and the fact that Bex appeared to know everyone here, he could see why she liked it so much.

  “Hi, Bex!” The voice at Gabe’s back was familiar, and across the table, Bex went a little pale.

  “What?” he asked. He turned and choked on a laugh.

  The girl from the office was here, looking remarkably well-recovered from her “illness.”

  She spotted Gabe and stopped so abruptly that her blond waves shook even after the rest of her body had gone still. “Oh shit,” she gasped. “I mean, hi.” She took a faltering step forward. “Gabe, was it?”

  Bex blushed, and he wanted to roll his eyes at the blonde. Instead, he tilted his beer at her as she slid onto the chair next to Bex. “Yep, I’m Gabe.”

  “Emma,” she said.

  “I thought you were sick.”

  She coughed. “It must have been a two-hour flu.”

  He smirked at her. “Right.”

  “Almost ready to start?” A lanky guy with a buzz-cut slid into the last open seat at their table, interrupting the interrogation.

  Emma smiled at the newcomer. “Should be any minute now.”

  The guy offered his hand to Gabe. “Colton,” he said.

  Bex leaned toward Colton. “Gabe here might just have the deep-seated trivia knowledge that our team needs to continue our streak of dominance.”

  Gabe hadn’t claimed to have any sort of superpowers, but if Bex was going to talk him up, he didn’t mind.

  A microphone squealed at the front of the room before Colton could respond, and Aderyn
stepped forward. She raised the microphone to her lips. “Thanks for joining us for our weekly Wednesday Trivia Night. As you know, we have a rotating selection of prizes, and this week’s winners will be the proud new owners of a Walton T-shirt. Who’s ready to start?”

  Wolf whistles and cheers erupted around the room, and Gabe couldn’t help but be caught up in the infectious energy.

  Bex caught his eye and smiled, and that, right there, was enough to make this whole, strange day worth it. “Ready to kick some ass?” she asked, lifting her beer into the air.

  He clinked his bottle against hers. “It would be my pleasure.”

  Chapter 7

  “Oh my god, your house smells like heaven.”

  Bex smiled over her shoulder at Emma, who had let herself in the front door. “You mean ‘bacon.’”

  “Same same.”

  “Well, I’m glad you approve.”

  Bex pulled a baking sheet of bacon out of the oven and carefully drained the strips on a mass of paper towels. The best way to make bacon, in her personal opinion, was to bake it. You still got to control just how crispy it came out, but you could make a huge batch at once without having your kitchen splattered like a crime scene.

  “Hand me that serving tray, will you?” She nodded her head in the direction of a tray as big as her arm.

  Emma slid it onto the counter next to the steaming waffle maker, and Bex arranged the bacon on one side of the tray, with a fresh batch of Belgian waffles on the other.

  Emma leaned her face over the tray and took a deep inhale. “Can I just say—you can cook for me any day?”

  Bex grinned. “Once a week, at least.” Every Sunday she had an open door policy for lunch: all you can eat waffles and bacon. The meal was scheduled later than brunch to allow for her friends in the booze industries to recover from any late nights, but the menu was unchanging. Because who didn’t like waffles and bacon? Guests brought their own side dishes and toppings, and people didn’t roll out until three p.m. Every now and then lunch turned into dinner, and that was the magic of it.