“Tell Olivia to keep her busy; she’ll be fine.”
Shaking his head, Trevor lifted his drink and sipped from it. “You’re playing with fire, man.”
“I can handle the burn. Just do what I asked.”
Without a backward glance, Gavin navigated his way through the crowd, dashing and darting through the maze of evening gowns and tailored suits. When he emerged on the terrace, he found Emily with her back to him, her auburn hair whipping around in the cool late-September air. Unaware of him watching, it was as if her body beckoned him. He tried—God knows he tried—to stay away. The past few weeks had been hell, and he had attempted to save them both by not going to her job and not showing up at her apartment when he knew Dillon wouldn’t be there. However, seeing her, being here with her, sucking in her presence had him feeling as though his mind was possessed. Every neuron fired into a tempest of sparks, and he couldn’t believe that his body was able to contain it. He was amazed that his flesh wasn’t cracking into a million glittering pieces. No matter the situation, right there and then, he needed to go to her.
He took a step forward, and as if she sensed him, she whipped around, a piece of her silken hair catching in her mouth. “What are you doing out here?” she asked, her voice low, shaky even.
He moved toward her, allowing only a few feet to separate them. “I need to speak with you.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said, turning her back to him again.
“There’s a lot we need to talk about, and you’re going to turn around and face me, Emily.” The rough whisper was breathed out with classic male dominance as he stepped closer.
His tone caught her attention, her heart slamming to a stop before jump-starting again. She twirled around and stared straight into his eyes. He was looking at her as if he was trying to read her mind, and she felt naked under his gaze. So sexy, dangerous, and completely confident, it almost sickened her. As arrogant as his demand was, it still managed to suck her into a vortex of spiraling desire. Like a defiant teenager pissed at a parent, she crossed her arms and waited for him to speak.
“Do you feel me when I’m not with you, Emily?”
With shock shimmering in her eyes, she nervously laughed. “What kind of question is that?”
“One that I’m asking you,” he growled. “Because I can feel you when you’re not with me. Now answer my question.”
“We’re back to this again, huh?”
“Yes. Now get those pretty lips to answer the question,” he demanded as he stepped closer.
The glass woman she knew existed beneath her skin smashed under her passion, lust, and want. The splinters of herself scattered and recomposed themselves into the man who consumed her every thought—the man who was standing right in front of her. This was it—her breaking point. She wasn’t going to deny him or herself what she felt anymore. Gavin brought her to the edge, and there was no looking back. Her stomach knotted over knowing what she was about to confess, but more so because of how much she was about to confess.
“You want to hear me say it?” she hissed.
Oh, he felt her now.
With blatant intention, he did the one thing he knew would get her riled up. He slowly dragged his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes bore right through her. “Yes, I want to hear you say it,” he answered as calm as he could.
“Fine! I want to fuck you just like you want to fuck me, Gavin,” she blurted out in a hard whisper. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first moment I laid my eyes on you. I’ve dreamt of you. I feel you when you’re not with me. I’ve even masturbated with a clear picture of you in my thoughts. Are you happy now?”
Hell, he couldn’t count the amount of times he got himself off thinking about her in the same way, but that wasn’t what was driving him. His expression creased with a mix of shock, anger, and hurt from her accusation. “No, I’m not happy. You think this is about me wanting to fuck you?”
At that, she laughed again. “Oh, give me a break. What else would it be about? I know I’m naive when it comes to certain things, but I’m not a dumbass, Gavin.”
Something in her eyes and in the set of her body filled him with heat. The edge of vulnerability in her voice sliced at his chest, and hell, it tore him apart. But combined with her explosion of defiance and anger, it only made the need for her eat into him like a painful disease. He stepped forward, bringing his arm around her waist, pinning her close to his hip, as he quickly guided her out of view. They’d gotten lucky thus far in being alone, but he knew it was only a matter of time before that ended.
“What are you doing?” she huffed, struggling against him, the sound of her heels clicking frantically against the concrete.
Anger of his own surged hot and deep inside him as he backed her against a wall on the side of the terrace. He stared at her, his blue eyes brooding in the dimly lit space with an expression so hard it was granite. “This has nothing to do with me wanting to fuck you.”
“Oh, it doesn’t?” she breathed out, wiping her wind-blown hair away from her face.
“No, ‘cause let’s not forget that I could’ve fucked you.” Positioning his hand on the wall above her, he pressed his entire body against hers. She brought her hands up against his chest and tried to push him away, but his strength overpowered hers. Grazing his lips against her ear, he drew his words out in a slow, hot whisper. “I could’ve fucked you over…and over…and over again, and I could’ve fucked you very well to be honest, but I stopped because that’s not the way I want you.”