Diavolo Ch 07 - Sex Stories

Diavolo Ch 07

... fucking nose.” Gabriel grinned sheepishly. “If it’ll make you feel any better, I think I busted my collarbone again.” Michael grimaced now. “Ew-damn. Diamond’s gonna be pissed when she hears that.” Dark bruises were beginning to form under Mike’s eyes. Yeah. She wasn’t going to like that either. Banging on the door had Michael hefting himself up and striding to the door. Gabriel sank back onto the mattress with a pained grimace. His shoulder was a hot mess of pain. It didn’t help when Angelo dived onto the mattress with him seconds later. “Gaby! What’s for lunch, man? I’m starving.” Ariel came in ahead of Mike, beer already in hand. He looked at Gabriel and tipped his chin up in greeting. Good old Eeyore. “Anybody hear from Rafe?” Michael was asking as he heading to the kitchen. “Rafe?” Angelo grinned stretching out next to Gabe. “That would be negative.” Ariel grunted and held out a hand to Gabriel who was trying to get up off the mattress and away from the annoying drummer. Gabriel just looked up at him with a raised brow. He wasn’t about to let the lanky six-foot-three bass player yank him up. The guy, tall as he was, probably weighed about one-seventy, maybe, compared to Gabe’s even two hundred. Angelo bounced on the mattress in order to scramble off. “Arie-boy, that’s not how you help an invalid up.” “No, it’s okay,” Gabriel blurted in panic as the bumbling blond moron came at him. “Easy, Gabe. I’ve got this.” “Shit! Get away from me.” Big arms clutched at him. Ang bent ...

... his legs, plastered his chest against Gabriel’s and then straightened his legs. To Gabriel’s surprised he felt minimal pain. Ariel handed him his crutches and they both stepped away. Gabriel stood before them, eyes wide. “There. You see,” Angelo said with a frown. “I know what I’m doing. No one trusts me.” Ariel just shook his head and tipped his head back to take a swig of his beer. “Diamond’s been complaining we’re too idle,” Michael said as he strode back into the living room with an ice bag pressed to his nose. Gabriel rolled his eyes and hobbled to the glass doors of the beach house. Down below, boats rose and fell with the slow lazy roll of the tide. He had his own boat, though not very big, but he wondered if Abby would like to take a ride on it sometime. He could imagine her in a bikini, her hair flowing in the wind, the sun kissing her skin golden… “Earth to Gabe,” Mike called out. They’d come closer now; Angelo on the piano stool, Mike leaning against the black baby grand, and Ariel sitting at one of the chairs at the dining room table. While he’d been visualizing Abby on his boat, he’d heard music in his head. His eyes focused on the piano. Four steps later he was telling Ang to move. He did with a flourish. “You got any equipment around?” Angelo was asking Michael. Gabriel’s fingers stroked the keys absently. His mind went back to Abigail. She had a pretty figure. The snug jeans and top she’d worn the night before let him see how curvy she was. The Hollywood ideal ...