Gavin: Pure Passion (Hamptons Book 1)

by Taylor, Drucie Anne

  “Come!” He whispers hoarsely, encouraging me. I feel my muscles contracting around his fingers, and with a muffled cry, the wave breaks free. I tremble and shake and can barely hold on to him as he pulls me close, onto his lap. Then I feel his hardness exactly where I want to feel it. Gavin gently kisses my trembling lips, the corners of my mouth, and my cheeks, stroking my back all the while.

  “We’ve arrived, Mr. McLeod,” the driver says, and the metallic sound of his voice informs me that he’s speaking through an intercom system.

  Gavin slides me off of him and adjusts my clothes. He buttons my top before I even ask him to, and helps me put on my jacket, too. Then he fastens his jeans. “Will you stay with me tonight?” he asks quietly.

  “Yes,” I breathe, and slide close to him on the seat. Once I’ve found my bag, we get out. Gavin has me walk in front of him so no one can see the telltale bulge in his jeans, and he guides me through the lobby. The looks people give him speak volumes. They seem to be asking what this guy is doing with a prostitute, because my outfit isn’t particularly conservative. I zip my jacket so I don’t feel quite so naked under their judgmental glances, and sigh with relief when we arrive at the elevator.

  The doors open. Gavin doesn’t have to say a word; the operator knows which suite he’s in. I lean against him, because he won’t let go of me, and rub my butt on his erection. He pushes himself against my backside and puts a hand across my middle. “I can hardly wait to get you in my room.”

  I turn around to face him and kiss him enthusiastically. The operator clears his throat, but we ignore him as our tongues start to duel again.

  The elevator stops, and we let go of each other. “Thanks very much,” Gavin says as we step out into the hall. There are no other guests around and he doesn’t feel so observed, so I walk next to him.

  When we arrive at his suite, he fumbles with the card reader until the door finally opens. He lets me go ahead, then locks the door behind him. He comes up close behind me, and wraps his hands around my waist, while his lips travel down my neck. I tilt my head to allow him better access. He suddenly pushes me up against the wall. “Don’t move,” he says quietly, and I hear determination in his voice. If it’s because of the alcohol I’ve consumed, or if he’s really that dominant, I don’t know, but I do what he says. I hear him shuck off his jacket, more rustling, and finally the sound of him kicking off his shoes. Then I hear him walking around doing something. I peek to the side and see that he’s lit a fire in the fireplace, and is spreading a blanket on the floor in front of it. As he turns toward me, I look back at the wall again. I’m so turned on!

  Then he steps behind me again and removes my jacket. Gavin slips a hand between me and the wall and frees me from my top, and then my skirt slithers over my knees to the ground. His fingers travel over my body before he turns me around to face him. He’s only wearing his jeans. He has well-defined muscles that twitch with every movement. I drink in the sight of him, he’s simply perfect. He takes a step forward again and lifts me into his arms. I put my hands on his cheeks and kiss him as he carries me through the suite. Suddenly he goes down on his knees, and I feel cold stone under my skin. He’s set me on the granite-topped coffee table. He breaks the kiss and pushes me backward so my back comes in contact with the cold tabletop, making me gasp. He bends forward over my body and kisses the tops of my breasts, and I arch my back as he reaches for the clasp of my bra. After he removes it, he runs his fingers over my body in light caresses, making me shiver, until he reaches my lace underwear. He pulls it down as he nibbles on my right nipple. His fingertips glide over my thighs, and down to the backs of my knees. He sits up to pull the panties off me completely. I lift my head to look at him, and my attention is caught instantly by his bulging jeans, which he’s in the process of unbuttoning. He frees himself, and the sight of his massive erection leaves me speechless. I let my head fall back on the table, and hear him tearing open a condom package. He slides closer to the table on his knees, and pulls me to him. I grip the edge of the table, waiting for him to plunge into me, but first he runs the tip of his penis up and down my wet crack. I close my eyes in delicious anticipation, feeling every nuance of his touch. Then he pushes into me in glorious slow motion. It feels incredible. I let out a long moan and arch my neck. He pulls back, leaving a feeling of emptiness, only to fill me again. His strokes aren’t fast, but very deep and hard, the way I like it. I squeeze my thighs around him and move to his rhythm. He puts his hands on my waist and bends over me, kissing my breasts and neck as he plunges in and out of me. I quake with lust at every stroke. Then he kisses my lips. I throw my arms around his back and kiss him back with all the passion I’m capable of. Gavin bites my lower lip, but it doesn’t hurt, it just fires me higher.

  He makes me totally defenseless, the way he’s taking me. Gavin seems to know exactly what I need, and how I need it. With my eyes closed, I feel myself falling over the edge again, and I come for the second time today.

  “Oh, God! You’re getting tighter and tighter!” he moans, and begins to quake. He plunges mercilessly deeper into me, pulls back, and with one last hard stroke he finds his release, which draws a final cry from my throat. He collapses on top of me and rests his head in the hollow of my neck. “Oh, man!”

  I’m breathing too hard to answer, and I feel a drowsy weight sinking into my completely relaxed body.

  I awaken to find myself in front of a fireplace. My cheek is resting on something warm. I open my eyes and they suddenly go wide. Oh . . . my . . . God! I cry out in my mind, and carefully free myself from the embrace of the muscular body which was serving as my pillow. It didn’t actually happen, did it? Impossible. But a peek under the blanket tells me otherwise. And I had a blackout again, I can’t believe it! Why did I have to drink so much? I surely jumped him; or was it his idea? A thousand questions are echoing through my head and are already making me nervous. I slowly get up to look for my things and go in the bathroom. I just want to wash my face quickly, go home and pack my things, and move to Antarctica as quickly as possible.

  Gavin rolls over in his sleep, but shows no signs of waking up. With a relieved sigh, I turn around and start to collect my clothes, which are spread out all over the suite.

  While I brush my teeth (there are complimentary toothbrush sets in luxurious little packages) and take a shower, I try desperately to remember what happened last night, but my mind obviously isn’t cooperating, because it’s a complete blank. I squint against the light as I seek in vain for any shreds of memory to give me a clue, but no chance. If I slept with him, then losing the memory of it is Fate giving me a serious kick in the ass. So unfair!

  The door of the shower booth opens behind me, and I freeze. It can only be Gavin. He puts a hand on my upper arm, and his lips brush my shoulder, while the fingers of his other hand stroke the sensitive skin of my waist.

  I swallow hard. Please, God, let me be fantasizing!

  “Good morning, Lane,” he whispers in my ear, and kisses my neck gently.

  My knees go weak, and threaten to collapse at any second. “Hi,” I whisper, closing my eyes.

  “How did you sleep?” He caresses my stomach, and pulls me back against his hard body.

  “Very well, I think.”

  He seems to be able to tell that I’m feeling insecure, because he lets me go and turns me around to face him. “Are you OK?” Gavin looks into my eyes searchingly, but I lower them.

  “I . . . Did we . . . Did we have sex?” I ask, ashamed.

  His head tilts to the side. He’s obviously trying to work something out. “Don’t you remember?”

  I turn away, but only because I feel shy, because I’m naked.

  “Lane?”

  “Yeah . . . No. I . . . had a blackout.” My voice sounds so strange to me, it never sounded like this before. And the worst thing is that my fight-or-flight instinct is taking over. I want to break through the shower booth, put on my clothes, and disappear forever, because I feel like dying of s
hame.

  Gavin puts his arms around me again and holds me close. “I’d be glad to help refresh your memory.”

  A shiver goes down my spine. “That’s probably not such a good idea.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Gavin, we were drunk . . . and when people are drunk, they do stupid things.”

  “I wasn’t drunk, Lane, you were.”

  OK, I’m not assuming that he took shameless advantage of my condition, but maybe he should have tried to stop me. “Did I . . .”

  “No. I kissed you after you said it was a lame excuse, when I told you it was because I like you.”

  “What?”

  “You were mad because I stopped yesterday morning when we kissed.”

  “When you kissed me,” I correct him.

  “Be that as it may. I was the one who took the initiative last night. If I’d known you were having a blackout again, I would have just taken you home.”

  “You would have brought me home after we’d slept together?” I ask, irritated.

  “Of course not! I wouldn’t have slept with you at all, because I would want you to remember.”

  The way my body feels, I can definitely tell I had sex last night, but the memory of our passion and absolutely everything else is completely missing. “OK . . .”

  The rough touch of his unshaven chin as it rests on my shoulder sends a shiver down my spine. “I really like you, Lane, and I don’t want you to feel bad because you woke up here. I’m really sorry.”

  I really wish I could relive last night, but it would never be the same this time. That’s why I just have to hope I can remember someday. “I was just a little overwhelmed at first.”

  He turns me around to face him again, and the cold shiver runs down my back again like a thousand needles. “Do you still feel that way?” He asks as he looks down at me.

  I look up at him. “A little.”

  He bends down and kisses me gently on the lips. “Would you still be if I asked you to spend the weekend with me so we can get to know each other better?”

  “Definitely, I can’t stay here.”

  Gavin puts his hands on the wall behind me and looks at me closely. “Why not?”

  His voice sounds so sexy and raw that my nipples stand up of their own accord. “Because I have to work.”

  “At the dance school?”

  “No, I . . .”

  “Then you have to work at home?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So then you could theoretically work here, too?” he continues.

  I sigh. “It would be practical if I could take a shower, and then go home and change, Gavin.”

  “Can I drive you, and bring you back again?”

  “Do you really want to do that?”

  “Otherwise I wouldn’t ask,” he says with a grin. “Just think about it.”

  I nod, and he steps out so I can wash my hair.

  When I’m finished a few minutes later, I step out of the shower and dry off. Then I wind the towel around my body, because I can’t see my clothes anywhere. I can’t see Gavin, either, because he left the bathroom after we finished talking. “Gavin?” I call as I step out into the suite.

  He comes. “Lane?” he says with a smile.

  “Where are my clothes?”

  “I gave them to the hotel laundry, but you can have sweatpants and a T-shirt from me if you like.”

  I’ll surely swim in his things, because not only is he taller than me, but bigger in general. “You could have asked me,” I complain.

  “Sorry, I was just trying to help.”

  I sigh. “Sorry. Yeah, you can give me something of yours.”

  He nods and leads me into the bedroom, where there’s a whole selection of sport clothes laid out on the bed. “I don’t know what you like, so I just got out some sweatpants and a few T-shirts. I wonder where my Ramones shirt is.”

  Should I admit that I kept it? Probably not, he’d just think I’m crazy. I’ll sneak it back to him sometime when he’s not looking. “Thanks.” I take black sweats and a red T-shirt with Downstair Alley printed on it. Luckily it’s not an old-style fan shirt with a photo of the band printed on it.

  Gavin hands me something else.

  “What’s this?”

  “Boxers. Or would you prefer to wear nothing under the sweatpants?” he asks with his eyebrows raised.

  I could think of a lot of things that would turn me on faster, like his presence, for example. “No,” I say, after taking a deep breath, accepting them.

  Gavin disappears into the bathroom. He ordered breakfast before and said I should start without him, but I prefer to wait. I sit on the couch and flip through a magazine, and I hear a cell phone ringing. It’s definitely not mine, it’s an awful, shrill ringtone. I don’t want to disturb Gavin or be too nosey, but I take his phone from the table and answer the call, if only to stop the sound. “This is Gavin McLeod’s phone, can I help you?”

  “Who is this?” asks a woman’s voice.

  “Mr. McLeod’s assistant,” I answer, because I don’t want to give my name.

  “This is Mindy. Can you give him a message for me, please?”

  I grab the pad and pen that are lying on the table. “Of course.”

  “Please tell him he has to call me right away. It’s about . . . Well, it’s just important.”

  I scribble a note on the pad. “OK, I’ve written it down, I’m sure he’ll be in touch.”

  “Thanks.” The woman ends the call without another word, and I put the phone aside.

  “What are you doing?” Gavin asks, standing in the doorframe.

  “I . . . uh . . . Your phone rang, and the sound was really annoying, so I took the call and wrote something down for you.” I feel my cheeks getting hot and lower my eyes to the notepad. “You should call Mindy.”

  Gavin looks at me skeptically. His brow is furrowed, and he seems annoyed. “Thanks, Lane.” He glances at the serving cart. “Have you eaten?”

  “I wasn’t hungry.

  He nods. “OK, then I’ll bring you home now. I’ll just get dressed.”

  We sit in the car, and Gavin’s silence is oppressive. He’s surely annoyed that I answered his phone, which I now realize was pretty fresh of me. I just wanted to do him a favor, and besides, I didn’t want to listen to his annoying ringtone anymore. Should I have just turned it off? That would have been less invasive, I suppose. We’re almost to my place. I don’t know how to break the silence. I should probably just keep my mouth shut and only open it to say good-bye. Then my phone rings. I dig it out of my handbag and check the display. It’s Macey, but I ignore it, because I’ll be home soon, anyway.

  Ten minutes later, Gavin parks in front of my building. “Here we are.”

  “Thanks,” I say as I unfasten the seat belt. “I’ll surely see you next week at the dance school.”

  He nods curtly. “See you, Lane.”

  I get out of the car and look at him with regret. “I’m sorry I answered your phone. I just didn’t think about it enough, and I thought I was doing you a favor. I didn’t give my name, I just pretended to be your assistant.”

  He laughs. “No problem, I’m not mad. Mindy is my cousin, she’s like a sister to me. She was surely just surprised that I didn’t answer the phone myself.”

  “Then why have you been giving me the silent treatment?”

  “Sometimes I just don’t like to talk, and besides, I was trying to decide how to explain to her that a strange woman was answering my phone.”

  “Ah . . . Well, sorry.”

  “It’s really not so bad.”

  “OK.” I step back to close the door.

  “Lane, wait.”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to spend the weekend with me?”

  We haven’t talked about it again since we were standing in the shower. I take a deep breath. “Do you really want me to?”

  “I’m driving back to the Hamptons on Monday, an
d I’ll be practicing there with Julie. This will be the last chance to get to know each other before the intense training for Celebrity Dance Hall starts.”

  That means the next time I’ll see him will be on the set for the show, and there, we’ll hardly have any chance to talk at all. The celebrities are always going back to the makeup department, and the dancers have to keep the audience in a good mood during the breaks. That’s why there’s always a cast dance interlude at the beginning and right before the end, when the results are announced. Next week rehearsals start, so I don’t understand why Julie is going with him to the Hamptons.

  “Lane?” He interrupts my thoughts.

  “I’ll have to pack a few things if I’ll be staying with you.”

  “Will you stay until Monday?”

  “I’ll pack for the weekend, and then we can talk about it tomorrow, OK?” I answer. If I stay with him, I definitely have to avoid alcohol. I don’t want to have another blackout. Two are enough for this year.

  Gavin gets out, locks the car, and comes with me. “Fine.”

  Chapter 5

  For the last half hour, I’ve been arguing with Macey. She’s really annoyed that I just left the cave last night without telling her, and didn’t come back. It’s new to me that she’s playing babysitter, and it pisses me off. She was the one who said I should have fun. Now she’s upset that I didn’t tell her where I spent the night. Sometimes friendships are just strenuous, but I don’t want to lose her, because she’s the only close friend I have since Brooke died. If Brooke was here, she’d try to smooth things out between us, like she always did, but she’ll never do that again. I sigh and sink into Macey’s sofa.

  “Why are we fighting, anyway?”

  “Because . . .” She exhales heavily. “I have no idea, maybe we’re both a little stressed.”

  She could be right about that, because I haven’t really felt like myself since this morning. “Can we be friends again?” I ask quietly.

  Macey puts an arm around me and lays her head on my shoulder. “We still are.”

  “Good. Then I’d like to go pack, because I’m going away for the weekend.”