“Yes, Gavin, you are,” she quietly spat, her fingertips white-knuckled around her glass.
With his need for her trapped inside—blistering hot, sweltering, ready to explode—he leaned in closer, dropping his voice. “Good, because whenever you’re near me, I fucking lose every bit of self-control I have left.”
Emily’s throat tightened at his unexpected words. She breathed out heavily, the sound hanging in the air as the tingles coursing through her entire body came in crashing waves. And, to top it off, with every second he stared at her the way he was, she was getting hotter. The impact created an explosion between her legs, causing a chain reaction of anger mixed with more desire for him than ever before.
Emily returned his hot gaze with one of her own, showing a streak of defiance as she tried to catch her breath. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to give in to what I see behind your eyes every time I’m near you.” Slowly—so slowly—he licked his lips as his brilliant blue eyes hardened with palpable lust. “I want you to give in to the way you trembled in my arms when I touched you…the way your breathing becomes faster when I look at you.”
Staring at him, her heart ricocheted in the cavity of her chest, but she was unable to form a sentence.
"I loved the way your lips felt against mine, and I’m pretty sure you did, too. I also enjoy the way I can almost feel you becoming wet for me right now." Leaning in closer, he dropped his voice to a hard whisper. “Are you going to pretend that you don’t feel anything for me, Emily?”
He wasn’t even touching her, yet he was correct—her panties were damp. She hated that he was right; she hated that he could notice every physical and emotional reaction she had toward him. And she hated that she wanted him so bad she could taste it.
Damn him.
“I’m not answering your question,” she breathed out.
Their eyes seductively bored into each other like two charging bulls relentlessly ramming against a cage.
"You don’t like answering questions," he stated through gritted teeth, trying to fight his urge of dragging her clear across the table and into his arms. He could’ve devoured every inch of her body right there. Like a tornado ripping through anything in its path, her presence alone was pulling him into her.
Damn her.
“No, Gavin, I don’t like answering your questions,” she quickly whispered. “And it looks like I don’t have to because your void-filler is walking this way.”
Gavin’s pupils lost her gaze and dilated with awareness of what she said. Casually leaning back in his seat, he plastered a fake smile across his face as Natasha approached the table.
Before taking her seat, she leaned down and pulled him in for a kiss. Emily was foolish not to peel her eyes away from their open-mouth exchange. She felt a nauseated pang deep in the pit of her stomach at the sight of Gavin sliding his hot tongue over Natasha’s mouth. She didn’t know why she was having such feelings, but in that moment watching them, she felt pissed, and she knew she had no right to. When the kissing skit finally ended, Gavin’s blue eyes flitted over to Emily; his gaze was unsteady with a strong hint of something akin to an apology shimmering behind them.
One corner of Natasha’s mouth tipped in a satisfied smile before she took her seat next to him. “Sorry I took so long. Like, I had to totally empty out my purse to find my lipstick.”
Emily drew in a long breath and almost jumped up when she felt a large hand squeezing her shoulder gently. She turned around, and it was Dillon. Meeting his gaze, she tried to get her heart to slow from its frantic shock of the conversation that had just ended.
The waiter eventually brought their food. Heated glances exchanged between her and Gavin for the remainder of the meal kept Emily’s hands nervously dancing with her silverware.
After being forced to endure an hour of mind-fucking conversation regarding Dillon’s concern over Gavin’s stock portfolio choices, Emily was elated when the couples finally retreated to Dillon’s car, putting an end to the afternoon that had left her stomach in knots. She was practically silent during their drive across the city to drop off Gavin and Natasha at his place, but if Dillon noticed her sudden change in demeanor, he didn’t comment. When they arrived at Gavin’s high-rise, Emily claimed she wasn’t feeling well, grasping for any excuse to stay in the car while Dillon walked them up to the entrance. He politely kissed Natasha’s cheek and bade his farewell to Gavin with a firm shake of his hand. While Dillon was heading back to the car, Emily’s eyes were magnetically drawn to Gavin, who was holding the door open for Natasha as she sauntered into the lobby flipping her hair. Before he followed Natasha into the building, Gavin turned around with both of his hands buried in his front pockets and threw Emily one last longing, piercing stare that would stay burned into her memory for the rest of the afternoon.
Dillon lounged into his seat and smiled. “Ready for some Fifth Avenue shopping?”
Although feeling like she had just escaped from a psychiatric ward, Emily plastered one of her own fake smiles on her face and nodded to Dillon. “Yes, let’s get out of here.”
Chapter Nine
Home Run
The mid-morning air in Central Park was mild but cooler than usual for the second week of August. Emily spread a small sheet under one of the maple trees that provided shade from the vibrant brightness of the sun. Placing her backpack beside her, she took out its contents, which consisted of two sandwiches, a couple of bottles of water, and her favorite novel, Wuthering Heights. All she needed now was Dillon. When she glanced at her watch, she noticed he was already twenty minutes late. As the city around her hummed its daily incessant chatter—even in the serene peace of the park—she decided to give him a call to find out what was taking him so long.