“What’s your poison, shmexy bedroom-eyes man?”
Crossing his arms, Gavin studied her for a moment. “I think I’m going to hold off on drinking for right now.”
Her eyes widened as she swayed back and forth. “What? No, you’re doing a shot with me.” She brushed her fingertips across his cheek. “Come on, pretty please?”
Never mind the cute girlish way she asked, her soft fingers still lingering on his face had him second-guessing his original gut feeling not to drink with her, considering she was pretty drunk. He swallowed.
“Just one.”
She beamed a smile. “Okay, back to my question. What’s your poison?”
“I’ll take that bourbon,” he gestured to a bottle of George T. Stagg with his head.
“This one?” she asked, holding it up.
He nodded and handed her his cup.
She started filling it—and kept on filling it.
“Whoa, wait a minute, killer,” he laughed and took the cup from her. Walking over to the sink, he poured three-quarters of it out. “This should be enough for now.”
She mouthed the word “boring” to him and once again clasped her hand in his, tugging him into the frenzied living room.
“Dance with me,” she rasped, looking into his eyes with a seductive smile curling her lips.
“Nah, I’m just going to chill right here,” he motioned to a couch filled with people equally as out of it as she was. He smiled. “You go ahead. I’ll just sit back and watch with blatant male appreciation.”
She lifted her chin in defiance. “Pfft, your loss, buddy.”
He laughed and watched her wiggle her way through the crowd where she eventually found Trevor and Fallon still going at it. Gavin could see her gazing at him. Her hair, hanging wildly, created a tumultuous auburn curtain that swayed as her body moved provocatively to the music. It took everything he had not to stand up from the couch and pull her into his arms. But he knew that dancing with her in the state she was in, along with his increasingly aroused frame of mind, would be deadly to them both. She was definitely putting on a show for him though. She backed herself against Fallon’s chest and caressed her hands down her waist. Trevor’s eyes widened at the display, but nonetheless, he positioned himself behind Fallon, grinding his hips against her ass.
Emily’s eyes caught Gavin’s again as she gestured with her fingers for him to join her. He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side, pretending to be confused as he pointed to himself. Smiling, she nodded her head. He mouthed the word “no” and pointed to some girl passed out next to him. Although he couldn’t hear her, Emily laughed, a smile beaming ear to ear as she continued to grind her backside against Fallon.
Gavin’s attention broke from Emily’s for a second when the incoherent girl beside him abruptly sat up and decided that the pillow she was laying on would be the perfect spot to throw up. One of her friends, who witnessed the disgusting scene, dragged the girl from the couch and helped her to the bathroom. Standing from the couch, Gavin moved across the living room, skillfully dodging several drunken people as they clung to one another in order to remain upright.
He leaned against the wall and scanned the crowd for Emily. When he spotted her, Trevor and Fallon weren’t with her. Their replacement was some guy with his hands moving down her waist, his eyes undressing her, his mouth in her ear—wait—now it was on her neck. Gavin evaluated her with the stroke of his eyes, and she seemed to be content with what was happening—but Gavin wasn’t. A surge of jealousy slithered its way through his body, and within a few strides, he was next to Emily. With the rigid set of his shoulders, a muscle working in his jaw, and his blue eyes filled with lethal calmness, Gavin pinned the other man with a glare. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t have to because the drunk got the point and backed away slowly.
“You’ve come to dance with me,” Emily breathed out, her skin glistening with sweat. Without warning, she slid her hands across Gavin’s taut muscular chest and then wrapped them around his neck. She drew his face down to hers. “I like dancing with shmexy guys.”
With their faces inches apart, a rush of adrenaline-spiked heat coursed through Gavin’s veins. His lips tingled in anticipation as he gazed at the curvature of Emily’s plump lips, remembering how they felt plastered against his. He tried—God knows he tried—to keep his hands off her, but he couldn’t. He found them gliding slowly down her waist, lingering as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her skirt. He pulled her closer, reveling in the way her sweat felt against his skin.
It was Emily’s turn to drag her lip through her teeth as her eyes bore into his with pure unadulterated lust. The pulsing music and the feel of his hard arousal pressed against her stomach fueled her further. She didn’t know if he heard it, but a soft moan wisped past her lips. She turned around, arched her back against his chest, and tilted her neck up. Her head barely reached his shoulder. Slowly—so slowly—he pulled her arms around his neck. As her fingers tangled in his hair, he smoothed his hands down the curve of her elbows, skimmed the side of her breasts, and ultimately settled back on her waist. With their bodies moving in sync to 50 Cent talking about “Just A Lil’ Bit,” Emily felt her heart trip over itself when Gavin grazed his lips against the shell of her ear.
Now she wanted to turn back around and face him to see his beautiful eyes and soak in every inch of his delectable body, but when she attempted to, he held her in place. He was teasing her, and she knew it. His touch left searing heat with every inch that made contact with her sensitive flesh. It left her wanting—no, craving—more. His attention was fast becoming an addiction to her that she didn’t think she could ever get enough of. If “Mother Nature” wasn’t calling her name, she would’ve stayed in that position with him the entire night.