Baiting Him (How to Catch an Alpha #2)(37)
“Bodywash in my shower and a potty box on my patio. I’m starting to think you’re going to be here a lot.”
“Only until I can get you used to being in my home alone without running away in the middle of the night.”
“Your place doesn’t look like a home. It looks like a showplace. Besides the few photos in your living room giving that space some character, I’d never know someone actually lived there. You don’t even have any art on the walls, and the things you do own are all varying shades of gray and black. The night I ‘ran away,’ as you put it, I felt like I was in a cell and it was closing in around me.” He looks away from me to glance around my bathroom.
I know what he sees without looking—gold wallpaper with a very cool design, vibrant floral face towels hanging above each sink, and two pieces of floral art hanging on the wall. My entire place is decorated much the same, with lots of bright colors here and there bringing life to my space. Since I can remember, I’ve surrounded myself with lots of color, and the way I decorated after I bought my condo is no different. Even the utensils most people never see that are tucked away in the drawers of my kitchen are bright and colorful. I could never live a life surrounded by black and white. I’d probably go crazy if I tried.
“If we need to add some color to my place in order for you to stay there, then we’ll do that,” he says, and I swear my mouth drops open. He studies my face for a moment, then adds, “Just no flowers.”
“You don’t like flowers?” I question with a straight face, even though I really, really want to laugh.
“Babe,” is all he says.
I start to giggle, and he shakes his head before disappearing into my room. After I finish brushing my hair, I tie it up into a ponytail, then apply my night cream and leave the bathroom. I find Gaston without a shirt but with his slacks on, sitting on the side of my bed and putting on his shoes. I walk to my dresser, open my top drawer, and grab the first nightgown my hand lands on.
I remove my towel, tossing it to the end of the bed before pulling the nightgown on over my head. When I feel eyes on me, I look at Gaston, who’s still bent with his fingers around the laces of his shoes but his eyes on me. I ignore his heated gaze, walk across the room, and open the door as I call out to LeFou. I listen to his tags jingle and his nails clicking against the hardwood as he runs full speed from wherever he’s been hanging out since he was locked out an hour ago.
A tiny white blur zooms by me, and since he’s going fast, he can’t stop. He slides across the wood floor, only halting when he hits the carpet and tumbles, making me gasp with worry. Obviously no worse for wear, he quickly finds his feet and bounces excitedly toward me.
“Don’t scare me like that,” I scold him before scooping him up and holding his wiggling body firmly against my chest. He licks my chin in apology, and I kiss the top of his head as I get into bed. I sit Indian-style with my back to my headboard, then drag my paisley-printed duvet over my lap and settle him on top of the covers. I rub the top of his head as I watch unapologetically as Gaston stands, picks up his shirt, and shrugs it on, hiding his amazing body one button at a time. When the show is over, I let out a sigh of happiness, then tip my head back when he steps toward the bed, grinning.
“I’ll be back in a few.” He bends to kiss me while simultaneously extracting LeFou from my hold, and I nod.
I watch the two of them leave my room, then find the remote for my TV in my bedside table. I flip on the television, then lift the remote to my lips. “Hallmark Channel,” I say, and like magic, the channel changes. While I wait for my guys to come back, I lie back in bed and start to watch two people as they begin to fall unexpectedly in love during the Christmas holiday.
Gaston reappears with LeFou during a commercial a while later, and I get out of bed to walk him to the front door. As usual, our goodbye includes a long make-out session, so by the time I crawl back into bed, the couple on TV is working through some drama. I shut off the television after I know they’ll be okay and fall asleep with LeFou resting on my feet, and I wish I was going to bed with Gaston holding me.
Suggestion 11
BE VERY CLEAR
GASTON
I walk into my office and close the door behind me, blocking out the heavy music coming from the club just feet away. I soak up the silence while I slip off my suit jacket and hang it up. I grab my cell from the pocket of my slacks to call Chrissie for no other reason than to hear her voice, but I stop when a knock sounds on the door a second later as I’m taking a seat behind my desk.
I bite back a groan of annoyance. With just days until Christmas, and New Year’s coming up quickly, things have been crazier than usual, which isn’t unexpected, since New Year’s Eve is one of my busiest nights. Every spare second I’ve had has been filled with talking to my liquor distributors, making sure we have enough staff on at the club along with both bars, and hiring extra security for all three locations for the night. I scrub my hands down my face, wishing I was at home with my woman in bed and watching one of her TV shows.
“Come in!” I shout.
“Sorry, Gus.” Georgia peeks her blonde head in. “Do you have a minute?”
“Yeah.” I lean back in my chair and watch her shut the door and strut toward me in jeans that are so tight they look painted on and the club’s uniform black T-shirt with TWILIGHT written across the front in bold, shimmering letters. A shirt she’s altered, cutting away the neck so it hangs off one shoulder, and most of the bottom, so you can see a whole lot of skin between the shirt and the top of her jeans. I’m not surprised by the amount of skin she’s showing, nor do I care. Most of the girls have destroyed their shirts with scissors to help maximize tips, and in my opinion, they can have at it as long as they don’t fuck around on the job and they keep the paying customers happy.