Текст книги "Collide"
Автор книги: Gail McHugh
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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 23 страниц) [доступный отрывок для чтения: 9 страниц]
Theresa sniffed again. “Uncle Gaffin is a meanie; you should hit him.”
Gavin playfully frowned as his eyes widened. “You think she should hit me?”
Theresa giggled and nodded.
Gavin looked to Emily and shrugged, pointing to his arm. “I guess Colton and Melanie are raising some hostile children,” he laughed. “Take your best shot, doll.”
Smiling, Emily acted as though she hit him, and Gavin howled out in his best wounded voice.
Theresa laughed, quite satisfied by the blow.
“Mom said you made my daughter cry, Gavin?”
Gavin turned around and smiled. “Hey, Mel. Yeah, I scared her a little, but she’s okay now. Aren’t ya, squirt?” He tickled Theresa’s toes.
She laughed and kicked her feet away from him. “Uncle Gaffin’s girfend hit him for me.”
With a sweep of her arm, Melanie motioned to Timothy to get out of the pool. She then tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder, quirked a curious brow, and smiled in Gavin’s direction.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Gavin laughed, standing up. “She’s Dillon’s girlfriend. Emily, this is my wonderful sister-in-law, Melanie.”
Holding Theresa’s hand in hers, Emily rose to her feet and smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure’s all mine,” she said, returning the smile.
“Your children are adorable,” Emily said.
“Thank you, but I bet you’d beg to differ when they’re screaming and fighting with one another over a box or something crazy like that.”
Emily laughed.
Turning to Gavin, an impish grin slid across Melanie’s mouth. The threat in his eyes told her not to even go there—but she would.
She turned back to Emily. “Emily, do you have any available sisters or friends that Gavin might be interested in dating?”
Emily looked to Gavin. “Ongoing family thing?”
Crossing his arms, Gavin shook his head and smiled. “Bingo.”
Emily laughed and looked over to Melanie. “I do have a sister, but she’s married already. I can call a few friends though.”
“Perfect,” Melanie replied, placing her hand on Gavin’s arm.
With that, Theresa tugged at Melanie’s leg as she rubbed her sleepy eyes. Melanie picked her up. “Emily, make sure to call them soon. My brother-in-law’s getting too old to still be single,” she quipped and took off in a pretty fast pace toward the backdoor.
Letting out a sigh, Gavin smiled and handed Emily a towel. “She’s a…difficult one, my sister-in-law.”
“She seems nice though.” Emily accepted the towel from him as she tried to drag her gaze away from his tattoo that was now wet and glistening in the sunlight. Blowing out a breath, she swallowed hard and refocused her eyes back on his face. “I find it funny that everyone’s trying to get you hooked up with someone.”
“Yeah, tell me about. They have this odd thing about me being single right now.”
As Emily was about to ask him if he really wanted her to call some friends for him, Dillon snaked his arms around her waist from behind and kissed her neck. Surprised, she jumped and laughed at her sudden shock. The rest of the anglers strolled into the backyard looking sunburned, tired, and just a tad intoxicated. After some light conversation regarding the amount of fish that each man caught and a little more teasing of Gavin not being able to attend, the group dispersed as everyone went to take showers.
“So you went swimming I see,” Dillon remarked, peeling the shirt from his body as he and Emily entered their room. Closing the door behind him, he shed the rest of his clothing and tossed them into a pile.
“Very good observation,” she laughed.
Dillon walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and got in. “I hope you kept the body that belongs to me covered up around my friend,” he called out.
Emily rolled her eyes and searched her bag for a particular red gauzy sundress that she’d brought along. It was one that her mother had purchased for her on their last trip to see her sister in California. She smiled when she found it, holding it up against her body as she looked into the mirror.
“You’re not answering me, Emily. Did you cover yourself up?”
Walking into the bathroom, she let out a frustrated sigh. “Dillon, what do you see right now?” she asked, motioning her hand over her body, her voice a touch irritated by his question. It was clear to her that she wasn’t baring too much skin.
“What do I see right now? I see my hot girlfriend’s ass hanging out from beneath her college T-shirt. So why don’t you get in the shower and give your man what he needs?”
“You think I’m having sex with you right now?” she asked, her eyes bulging. “There’s a shitload of people downstairs.”
“Get in the shower, Emily,” he commanded simply.
“What the hell’s wrong with you, Dillon? I said no.”
“Come on, Em. It’s just hard for me to see you looking like that and not want to fuck around,” he calmly replied as he got out of the shower. He walked over to where she was leaning against the vanity. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you while I was gone.”
Pressing his body against hers, he quickly dipped his hand into her bikini bottom, making sure to slide his fingers inside her.
A faint moan escaped her lips as she tried to push him away.
“See, you like that.” His voice notched down huskily as he grazed his lips over hers. Sliding his fingers in and out, he used his other hand to glide her bikini bottom down past her thighs. “This pussy’s mine. No one else’s, Emily. Mine,” he groaned against her cheek.
As she pushed him away again, a knock came at the bedroom door. Shooting Emily a hard glare, Dillon yanked a towel from the rack, tossed it around his waist, and leisurely strolled over to answer it. It was Trevor, letting him know that a potential client eager to speak with him regarding a commodities plan was downstairs. Within five minutes, Dillon was dressed and out the door to go talk business. Emily was left alone in the room, wondering what the man—whom she desperately loved—was really morphing into.
By the time Emily calmed her nerves, showered, and got ready, it was a quarter past seven, and the party was in full swing. True to Dillon’s words, there had to have been at least 150 people scattered throughout the property. She wove through the crowd of unrecognizable faces as she searched for him. When she couldn’t find him among the masses, she took a seat at one of the bars set up on the patio.
After downing a shot of tequila, a slight pang of guilt for not giving Dillon the little he had asked from her hit the pit of her stomach. He’d emotionally taken care of her through the most difficult time in her life, constantly complimented her on a daily basis—whether it be about her physical or educational attributes—and made her want for nothing financially. Sex in someone’s home—be it crowded or not—shouldn’t have been an issue in her mind.
Before the shortcomings she felt about herself regarding their relationship cut deeper into her heart, Emily caught a glimpse of Gavin from across the pool, talking with a group of women. As he made conversation with them, he used his hands in intimate ways—a slight touch on the nape of the neck to get their attention, a casual brush on the arm as they spoke, or a light press against the small of the back when he would laugh—and the women fell all over themselves when he did. Emily swallowed hard when he glanced in her direction, essentially catching her staring at him. She watched him excuse himself from the eager wannabe-future-Mrs.-Gavin-Blake group as he made his way toward her.
Casually dressed in a white linen shirt and khaki shorts, he approached her with a smile and leaned against the bar. “I find it impossible that a woman as beautiful as you look this evening is sitting here alone.”
Without missing a beat, Emily laughed. “You’re truly a connoisseur of knowing what to say and do to women.”
He cocked a smug brow and smiled. “I don’t know about that; however, I am a connoisseur of making the world’s most delectable ham sandwiches,” he laughed and so did Emily. Holding her gaze, he took a long pull from his beer. “But, really, where’s the man that should be sitting by your side at this very moment?”
She surveyed the crowd again. “He’s around here somewhere.”
As Gavin’s eyes roamed over his guests in an attempt to locate Dillon, his eyes locked on Monica Lemay. She was making her way over to him and Emily, a malicious grin smearing across her face. He hastily excused himself from Emily, letting her know he’d be right back.
Monica rolled her eyes as Gavin approached. “Have you come to give me a warning as well?” She pushed up on her tiptoes and nipped on his earlobe. He recoiled, pulling away from her. “Because there’s no need to do so. I’ve already been thoroughly warned by Dillon to act as if I don’t know him for the evening and to also stay away from his little girlfriend over there, too.”
Gavin glared at her, angling his head to the side, his eyes hard. “Oh, have you? Then why did it just appear as though you were going to say something to her?”
“Can a girl not get a drink from the bar?” she asked, affecting a venomous sneer.
“Go to one of the other bars, Monica.” He leaned down to her ear, lowering his voice to an icy whisper. “You’re a fucking snake. Don’t think I can’t see through you.” He took a step back. “You stay the fuck away from her. Do you understand me?”
She tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms as she looked away.
“Monica, look me in the eyes and tell me if you see a man who’s easily deterred from ripping your whole world to shreds.”
She drew up a brow, her hazel eyes wide. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Gavin?”
“It means that Blake Industries is a major benefactor in your father’s company. I hold more than seventy-five percent of its stocks. I’ll sell off every single one of them on Monday with a quick phone call.” He leaned in closer, and she took a step back. “Wall Street will have a field day, and by Tuesday, you and your family will be scrounging for scraps in the alleys of Harlem.”
She sucked in an indignant breath as her lips pulled down at the corners. “You wouldn’t!”
“Fucking try me.” He turned away and ran smack into Colton.
“Whoa, little man, you look furious.”
Gavin glanced over to where Emily remained seated at the bar. “I’m fine. What’s up?” he sniffed.
“Mom needs you in the kitchen,” he said, raking his hand through his hair. “I don’t know—something about someone down by the gates, trying to get onto the property that’s not on the authorized list.”
Emily nodded in Gavin’s direction when she caught his gaze from across the pool. He was holding up a finger to her as though letting her know he would be right back. She watched as he quickly vanished through the crowd, making his way into the house. She recognized the woman he was speaking with from the bar a few days before. She wondered why he would invite his ex to the party or why she would show up. It was obvious to Emily that they still had ongoing issues.
As Emily ordered a drink, a tall muscular man around her age approached her, the smell of booze seeping clear out of his pores.
Smoothing a piece of his brown hair away from his forehead, he gave her a crooked smile. “Pretty cool party, right?”
Emily glanced at him as she accepted her beer from the bartender. “Yes, it is,” she smiled.
“So are you here with anyone, or am I just the fucking luckiest guy at this party to have stumbled upon a hot-looking single girl?”
That’s a killer pick-up line, asshole, she thought. “Sorry, I’m here with someone.”
He let out a superior huff. “Who? Cause I know everyone here. I just may have to give him a beat down.”
This is getting better by the minute. “Dillon Parker.”
The man furrowed his brows. “You’re not with Dillon Parker. He’s still with Monica Lemay.” He took a large swallow of his drink. “At least I thought he was.”
Now you have my attention, jerkoff. “Who’s Monica Lemay?”
“Do you know Gavin?”
Emily quickly nodded.
“She’s the piece of blonde-haired prime meat he was just talking with by the pool.”
This moron is definitely drunk. “No, you must be confused. The woman Gavin was just speaking with is his ex-girlfriend—not Dillon’s.”
The man adamantly shook his head. “Gavin’s never dated Monica. We grew up together; he can’t stand her.” He downed another shot before continuing. “I’ve spent many Fourth of July parties at this house,” he pointed a finger across the yard. “And I’ve witnessed Dillon and Monica stumble out of that very guesthouse many mornings after, barely dressed. They definitely fucked.”
As she stood up, dazed at what he had just revealed, Emily tried to swallow. Her throat felt like razor-sharp blades were sliding into her esophagus.
“Hey, so you wanna give me your number or what?”
Without a backward glance, Emily pushed her way through the crowd. Their screeching voices, laughter, and jovial faces were a distant blur—a complete fuzz in her mind. A thin sheen of sweat beaded over her flesh as panic set it. She made her way toward the beckoning glow of the house. Walking past the kitchen, she spotted Gavin talking with his mother. He looked in her direction as she stormed into the living room.
When Emily rounded the corner to the hall, air whooshed from her lungs as her heart imploded into a gut-wrenching burst of effervescence upon seeing Dillon with Monica. The organ suffered another devastating blow when she saw Monica snaking her arms around Dillon’s neck, drawing him into her, and then it happened—the kiss. Unable to fully comprehend what was going on, Emily cupped her hand over her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. Incapable of witnessing their exchange any further, she spun herself around, her body colliding against Gavin’s chest. He caught her by the arms, flicking his eyes down to her face and then over her shoulder as they narrowed on Dillon and Monica.
“I…I…have to leave,” Emily breathed out, her voice bleeding with pain. “Please. Call me a cab,” she begged as she rapidly made her way to the front of the house and out the door.
Digging in his pocket for his keys, Gavin followed behind her. When he emerged, he found her trying to catch her breath, sitting on the stoop with her head cradled between her legs.
He walked over and knelt astride her. Placing his hand under her chin, he brought her face up to meet his. “Let me take you,” he whispered.
She shook her head vehemently. “No, your…your party…” She wiped the now flowing tears from her eyes. “You can’t just leave. Please call me a cab or have your driver take me back.”
With his hand still under her chin, he gazed into her eyes. “My driver isn’t here right now, and I’m not sending you back to the city in a cab. I’m not worried about the party; just let me take you back.”
Without saying a word, Emily swallowed, stood up, and walked toward his driveway. He directed her over to his BMW and opened the door for her. She settled herself into the seat and watched as he made his way around the car, her nerves still reeling from what she just saw.
The two-and-a-half hours back to Manhattan was quiet without a word spoken. As the sky melted into hues of orange, purple, and pink with the setting sun, Gavin searched his mind for something to say, knowing he played a role in Emily believing that Monica was his girlfriend. Her grief was so tangible that it nauseated him.
Glancing at her, he knew he had to explain.
When he pulled into a parking spot in front of her building, he closed his eyes for a beat and took a breath. “I’m sorry that I lied to you,” he whispered.
Emily slowly pulled her gaze from the passenger widow. “You think I’m mad at you for this?” Her tone was as low as his was, but the shock of his apology hung in her voice.
“How can you not be? I lied to cover for him that night. Although I didn’t know he was still…” He drew in a deep breath and paused for a second. Emily knew what he didn’t want to say. “I knew who she was; that’s why I pulled her outside. I didn’t want her to…hurt you, Emily. I’m so sorry.”
She stared into his unblinking blue eyes. “You don’t know me from a hole in the wall, Gavin,” she huffed, swiping tears away from her cheeks. “It wasn’t your responsibility to tell me the truth; it was his. So, please, don’t feel the need to apologize to me.”
Climbing out of the car, Emily stopped as her gaze slid up to the blood red and vibrant blue colors exploding like shooting stars in the sky. Pedestrians standing on the sidewalks hooted out, clapping at the display of fireworks going off throughout the city.
Gavin shut off the engine, flipped on his hazard lights, and followed her to the entrance of her building.
She abruptly came to a halt, tossing her hands through her hair as she began to cry again. “I don’t even have my keys. My purse and my bag are still at your house.”
Noticing Emily’s visible distress, the door attendant walked over to her with concern. Gavin explained the situation. Within ten minutes, management—knowing that she was indeed a resident of the building—gave her a new set of keys.
Wanting to make sure she got in okay, Gavin followed her up in the elevator and walked her to the door. He watched as she trembled, trying to slide the key into the lock. He placed his hand on hers in an effort to calm her down. He took the key from her and unlocked the door. Standing in the threshold, his eyes watched her move across her apartment as she nervously paced back and forth.
When Emily walked back over to him, Gavin moved toward her. The loud snap of the door closing behind him echoed throughout the apartment.
“Thank you for taking me home,” she said, her voice soft.
Staring at her, his voice filled with concern. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”
Emily averted her glassy gaze to the floor.
Gavin dipped his head, forcing her to look at him. His blues eyes flicked down to her lips, and Emily could see the thoughts moving behind them. She knew. With her breath hitching in her throat, her heart rate kicked up, fluttering to soaring heights, as he tenderly cupped her cheek. She brought her hand up and gently placed it over his, leaning into its warmth and soaking it in.
“Emily,” he whispered, laying his forehead against hers as he closed his eyes.
When they opened, she was gazing into his—their quickened breaths mingling, heated, warm, and so close now. The energy flowing soundlessly around them was suffocating. He moved closer, his arm coming around the small of her back, pulling her into the heat of his body. Gavin leaned down to kiss her—his own heart slamming in his chest—but neither his body nor his mind allowed another minute to pass without fulfilling his urge or his need. Emily parted her lips to protest, but it was a moan that filtered through them as his mouth covered hers, his tongue beginning its gentle onslaught against her lips. Her mouth moved beneath his, drawing in his delicious taste. She felt herself sinking into the pleasure of the kiss as his touch destroyed her resolve and shattered the last bit of self-control she had left. Despite the confusion weaving through her mind, her body was making the decision for her.
No. Questions. Asked.
As Gavin kissed her, he could taste the cherry sweetness of her lips, and he drank it in as if it was the finest of red wines. Her hands moved up his arms to the back of his neck, leaving a trail of fire against his skin. A thick shiver of pleasure rebounded around him, racing through his blood from the touch of her fingers intertwining themselves in his hair. A groan rumbled in his throat at the feel of her soft breasts against his chest. The scent of her skin and the feel of her curved body fitting perfectly in his arms sent him to a place he never knew existed. His fingers explored her wavy hair as their kiss deepened; it felt exactly how he figured it would, like pure fucking silk. Emily grabbed handfuls of his shirt as he walked her backward, pressing her against the wall and sweeping his tongue through her mouth. Gavin kissed her as if he’d done it a thousand times—as if she’d belonged to him. He kissed her the way he’d imagined he would from the moment he saw her—from the moment he knew he needed her.
“You’re so beautiful,” he groaned. His lips moved over her jaw as his hands smoothed down her waist. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything before in my fucking life.”
Emily nearly melted at his words—her body pressing against his, straining for more, wanting more. Her head fell back as his mouth slid to the side of her neck, tracing the slope of her collarbone and pressing kisses against her flesh. When he slipped his hand under the hem of her dress and started caressing her hip, Emily’s heart nearly stopped. Goosebumps popped over her arms as she wrapped her leg around his waist, his hand cradling the back of her head and the other holding tight to her thigh. Waves of heat cascaded over her trembling body; each touch was a destructive whisper against her skin. The languid sweeping motion of his tongue trailed back to her mouth. Sucking in her lower lip, he swallowed her moans of pleasure as he held her closer. Her senses blanketed themselves in the smell, touch, taste, and glorious groans that came from Gavin.
Gavin Blake…Dillon’s friend—someone he had known and become close with. If Dillon found out—despite his wrongdoings to her—he would surely lose it. Suddenly, Emily was off balance, uncertain of what she was doing. The shimmering images of Dillon and their life together invaded her mind. This was bad, and she knew it. Two wrongs never computed to a right in her head—ever. A wave of guilt mixed with anger at Dillon and herself washed over her. Although her body fought against it—and fought against it hard—she had to stop.
“We…I can’t…Gavin,” she finally breathed, barely forcing the words past her lips.
Pulling back, his blue eyes dark and wavered with lust, Gavin searched her face. Her lips were swollen from their kiss, and her breathing was as ragged as his. Tears were filling her eyes, yet he saw passion there as well. His heart broke a thousand times over from the look on her face. He didn’t want to hurt her. He nodded slowly as his fingertips slid over her flushed cheeks before his hands dropped to his sides, taking her warmth with them.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, not meeting his eyes.
“No, Emily, I—”
“Please, Gavin, just leave. I need you to leave,” she sniffed, still unable to look at his face.
The air prickled uneasily between them for a long moment. Gavin desperately tried to get his tongue unglued from the roof of his mouth and tried to say something—anything—that would fix the situation, but he couldn’t. The words—the right words—didn’t exist in his mind.
And this he knew.
Running a nervous hand through his hair, he turned away, reached for the door, and reluctantly made his way out.
Emily trembled as she hunched over in an attempt to catch her breath. She closed her eyes, desperately trying to block out the guilt, push it away, and purge it out of her system. Her complexion was drained of all color; her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying. Her stomach was curled around itself in disgust—not only from what she had just done, but also from the feeling that somewhere in the back of her mind…she knew it had felt right. God, it had felt so right kissing him, touching him, and letting him touch her. She buried her face in her hands and cried as the fresh waves of guilt crashed through every limb in her body.
Feeling mentally drained by it all, she walked over and collapsed herself onto the couch, trying to regain her composure as she wiped the tears from her face. A part of her felt like it was dying as vivid pictures of Dillon kissing Monica skirted through her head. Staring at the ceiling, Emily wondered if somehow she had deluded herself into thinking Dillon wasn’t cheating on her. Her instincts sent sparks throughout her mind from the past several weeks, but her gut wretched against listening to the warning sirens going off.
A sharp knock at the door roused her from the nightmare she had hoped she was awakening from. Before she could answer, the door swung open. Dillon was standing in the hall with her bags. Swallowing down the rising bile in her throat, she could feel the pulse in her stomach when she shot up from the couch. Closing the door behind him, his eyes met and locked with hers from across the room.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her eyes glaring at him. “I want you to leave.”
“You have to let me explain.”
“Let you explain? You kissed her!” she scoffed, her eyes bulging.
“She kissed me,” he corrected.
“Bullshit! I want you out,” she yelled and pointed toward the door.
“You’re going to let me explain.” He walked across the room, bridging the distance between them.
“You kissed her,” she cried, stabbing her finger into his chest. “I saw it with my own eyes!”
He grabbed her by the wrist and moved closer. “What you saw was her leaning in to kiss me. You didn’t see me push her away, Emily,” he breathed out, his voice low and steady.
“And I’m supposed to believe that?” she nearly screamed. “You lied to me about her being Gavin’s girlfriend!”
She made a beeline toward the kitchen, but he grabbed her by the shoulders. “I didn’t tell you about her that night because I didn’t want you feeling uncomfortable while she was there.”
She immediately jerked back and openly gaped at him.
“I’m not kidding, Emily. I didn’t want you to know she was someone I used to date. I knew if you found out that night, you’d want to leave. I figured it was no big deal,” he said, stepping closer.
She moved back, almost stumbling.
“Baby, I’m not lying,” he continued. “She’s fucking obsessed with me. You think I would do that with her out in the open, knowing you were there?”
Emily glared at him, her mouth wide open.
He raked his hands through his hair. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was coming out of the bathroom, and she asked if she could talk to me for a minute. I agreed, and before I knew it, she pulled me into her and kissed me. That’s what you saw, babe. I swear to fucking God I pushed her away. You must’ve turned around before I did.”
Shaking her head, Emily’s hand rushed to her mouth as she began to cry. Hurt ricocheted through her heart—the pain literally slamming through her body. Could she have made an assumption too soon from the few seconds of their kiss that she saw? She had never felt so confused.
“I even warned her when she got to the party to stay away from me and you,” he whispered, cautiously stepping closer and bringing his hand up to caress her cheek.
Continuing to cry, she averted her gaze to the floor, not knowing what to do or what to say.
“I just gave Gavin hell for bringing you back here without my permission.”
Emily’s head snapped up. “You…saw him?” she asked, swallowing hard.
“Yes, I saw him leaving out front,” he replied, burying his face in her neck. “You shouldn’t have left with him, Emily.”
She pulled back again, her green eyes wide. “You don’t think you would’ve left if you had seen me doing the same thing?”
“I’m not sure,” he paused, nibbling his bottom lip as if deliberating what to say. “I just know that I don’t like that he brought you home without telling me and that you actually left with him.”
Her features morphed at the shock of his words. “You’re mad at me for leaving, Dillon?”
“Jesus, baby, I’m not mad at you.” He stepped closer and brushed his hand across her neck. “I just want you to believe me. She means nothing to me.” Stepping closer still, he breathed against her cheek as his hands smoothed down to her waist. “I pulled away, Emily. I swear I did. You just didn’t see it.” He gently moved his mouth over her lips, his voice pleading as he kissed her. “I love you more than anything in this world. I would never hurt you, babe. Please, you have to believe me. I fucking love you.”
He tilted her head back, angled her body to his, and slid his mouth down her neck.
“Dillon, please,” she moaned, grabbing onto his shirt. “God, please, Dillon, don’t lie to me,” she begged as tears ran down her face.
“Baby, I’m not lying.” He trailed his hands under her dress and slipped it over her head. “I fucking love you, Emily. You’re my world. I can’t lose you,” he whispered into her mouth, his breath ragged against hers. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Her own indiscretions with Gavin tore through her as she looked into Dillon’s brown eyes, oxygen seeming to evaporate from her lungs. The guilt thrusted itself like an ice-laden spear through her heart.
“Tell me you believe me,” he breathed out heavily, slowly kneeling as he swirled his tongue in hypnotizing circles down her stomach. He then slid her panties past her thighs. “Tell me you believe me, baby.”
She felt so torn over what she wanted to believe and what she had done with Gavin. “Yes, I believe you,” she cried. “I’m so sorry, Dillon. I’m so sorry.”
Before she knew it, he ripped the panties from her body, pulled her up off the ground, and carried her to her bed. He spread her legs, holding her in place, as his tongue laved against her painfully pleasurable spot. Her body writhed against his mouth and moved of its own accord while he gripped onto her hips, sucking, licking, and tasting her very essence.
Her muscles convulsed with both ecstasy and guilt as his fingers slid in and out of her hot warmth. Needing to rid herself of the shame she felt and wanting him inside her at that very moment, she strained up.
“Dillon, I want you now,” she moaned, sliding herself back against the pillows.
He shed the rest of his clothing, climbed into the bed, and sank himself inside her. She gripped his caging biceps, throwing her head back at the sensation of him pulsing into her hot flesh. He slammed his mouth over hers and stifled her moans as she closed her eyes. And then it happened—the visions of Gavin kissing her, the feel of his velvet tongue, the warm touch of his fingertips all over her body—her every thought was consumed by him. Dillon was on top of her, but all she could feel, touch, smell, and taste was Gavin.
Emily stopped moving beneath Dillon; her entire body froze.
“What’s wrong?” he breathed into her ear, continuing to move above her.
