His eyelids dipped and he unleashed a slow, seductive smile. A second later, he put his mouth back to work, blazing a trail down the side of her neck toward her breast.
After three years of denying herself this kind of pleasure, his tender caress broke the dam loose and a flood of desire rushed through her. She scooted so close to the edge of the counter, she was in danger of slipping off. But Gavin was there, keeping her from falling. She wrapped her legs around the backs of his thighs and pulled him flush against her.
With careless, trembling hands, she pushed his shirt up and raked her fingers across the taut muscles of his back. She was starving for his touch and desperate for more contact.
His erection aligned perfectly with where she wanted him, but rather than removing their clothing and satisfying her greedy desire, he stretched the taut band of need tighter.
Whispering in her ear, he said, “We’re taking this slowly. If I only have one time with you, I’m making every second count.”
“We’ll go two times in one night. Shoot, three or four times. Please don’t slow down. I need you. I need you touching me, inside me, filling me.”
A strangled sound that was half-laugh, half-growl escaped his throat. “You’re killing me.” He untied her top from behind her neck and let the panels of fabric fall free in the front.
Oh yeah, now we’re getting somewhere.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He slipped his finger under the center of the chain and gave a gentle tug.
When she arched her back and cried out, he froze. “You didn’t hurt me,” she panted. “I promise. God, that’s good. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
With a touch as gentle and reverent as the one he’d used to stroke the copper magnolia leaf, he ran his finger down the length of chain to her nipple. “You kinky, Sunny?” There was no censure in his voice, only curiosity.
She shook her head and leaned forward, trying to force more contact.
“No? Then why wear the chains?” His tone was low and coaxing in her ear.
At times, she wondered if she had a kinky streak and there was more to wearing the jewelry than making herself feel sexy. But he didn’t need to know every freaking thing about her sex life, or her fantasies, so she ignored the question and kissed the side of his neck.
He shivered slightly, then nipped at her ear. Flicking the clip that attached the chain to her nipple, he said, “I’m waiting for an answer.”
A cry escaped and her head fell backward. “I don’t know.” Her words were strangled as she arched toward him in a desperate, pleading move. This time, he dipped his head and took the clip and nipple into his mouth. Afraid she’d pass out of from extreme pleasure, she pushed her fingers through his hair, grasped the ends, and held on.
It didn’t take him long to figure out what sent her flying and what registered so-so on the pleasure meter. Sticking with the oh-my-God-that-feels-so-good moves, he quickly had her suspended on the verge of an orgasm, panting and begging for more. Until tonight, she never would have believed it possible to be this out of control without penetration.
He kissed a path to her mouth, and said, “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?”
His arrogance turned her on, but at the same time, left her feeling vulnerable, because she no longer had control of her body. He did. Without waiting for an answer, he captured her mouth with his, thrust his tongue, and yanked on the center of the chain.
An electrical charge shot through her breasts, down to her sex, and out to every nerve ending in between. She arched her back and tightened her legs around his waist as the orgasm hit with the speed and intensity of a lightning bolt.
As the haze faded, she became aware of his pulsing length pressed against her. Not only did he need relief, but she needed more. Now. She reached for his belt buckle and began loosening the latch.
His body tensed and he grasped her hands, holding them still. He froze, then his gaze shot to the door.
A breath later, she heard the doorknob rattling and Robby’s voice. “Sunny. Are you in there?”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
She hadn’t thought to tell Robby she’d be late, and he’d probably gotten worried when she hadn’t come home at her normal time. The lighting was dim, but he should still be able to see in. Finding Gavin pressed against her like a second skin wouldn’t relieve his anxiety.
She fumbled for the ties of her top, but her fingers were shaking and she couldn’t grasp the fabric ties. Gavin beat her to it, retying the ends loosely around her neck before taking a step back.
She ran a hand over her hair, then rolled her eyes upward as if she could see. “My hair’s a mess, isn’t it?”
His lips twitched, even as he bit the bottom one to keep from laughing.
“Sweetheart, there is no way he’s going to believe we were just talking.” He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “Along with your messy hair, your lips are red and swollen and you have whisker burn on your cheeks.” He smiled wickedly. “But we both have our pants on; that’s gotta count for something.”
Prior to that mind-altering orgasm, she’d have agreed. But not now. She glanced over her shoulder to the door. Robby had his hands cupped around his face, his nose pressed to the glass.
“It doesn’t look like he’s going away, does it?”
Gavin rocked back on his heels, and shoved his hands into his pockets. Laughing, he shook his head and said, “Not anytime soon.”
With a groan, she jumped off the counter and headed for the door.
***
Gavin watched Sunny pull and push at her hairpins in a futile effort to fix her hair before she reached the door. It would never go back into that sexy little knot without a brush, mirror, and a whole lot of work. The way she had it piled on top of her head earlier was sexy as hell, but damn if he didn’t like this tumbled, just-out-of-bed look even more.
Instead of opening the door as he expected, she put her hands on her hips and yelled, “What?”
Robby broke into a huge, shit-eating grin… or maybe a grimace. It was difficult for Gavin to tell from this far away. “Whatcha doin’?”
Gavin could imagine the flustered expression on Sunny’s face, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. His gaze slid past Sunny and Robby to the dark Anticue fishing pier, and he instantly sobered. The place held a lot of fond memories for him, and even though it was ridiculous to have an attachment to a fishing pier, there it was.
“What the hell do you want?” Sunny asked.
“I, uh…” Robby struggled to find his words. “I was… uh… driving by on my way home from… studying? The lights were out, but with another car in the lot, I thought I should check on you.”
“As you can see, I’m fine. Go on home. I’ll be right behind you.”
Robby looked at the parking lot, then back to her.
“I understand. It’s okay.” She nodded and made a little shooing motion with her fingers. “Really, go on. I’ll be there in a few.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.” He didn’t look convinced, but turned and walked away from the door anyway.
Sunny blew out a breath, pushed a clump of hair out of her face, and turned around.
“He seems like a good kid. He obviously loves you very much.”
She nodded and smiled. “Yeah. To both.”
Figuring Robby’s interruption had brought his one night—damn, that stung—to a screeching halt, Gavin went to work on creating another opportunity. He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “He lives with you?”
“Yeah, for the past six years.”
Whoa, no wonder they were close. Shit, how old had Sunny been when she took on the responsibility of raising her brother? How old had he been? “You told me his age earlier, but I don’t remember.”
She pulled a pin out, brushed back a strand of hair, then jabbed the pin back into place. “He’ll be twenty-one in two months.”
He moved in with her when h
e was fourteen? She didn’t look like she could have been much older than that herself, six years ago. Why did she take on such a huge responsibility at a young age? A familiar sadness settled into his gut. “Are your parents deceased?”
“Not exactly.” She stopped in front of him, crossed her arms, and bit her lip.
Okay, that body language was loud and clear. The conversation about Robby and her parents was over, as was his night, probably. He spread his legs wide enough to accommodate her, then grabbed the belt loops of her jeans and pulled her to him. “You have that awkward morning after expression.”
“Do I?” Her gaze darted past him. “I’ve never had one of those.”
He dropped his mouth to hers and slid his tongue over her lips before dipping inside for another taste of her. It was only a kiss, but the way she melted against him made him feel as if she’d slipped right through his skin and sidled up next to his soul.
He’d enjoyed his fair share of great sex, but this thing with Sunny felt different. More intense. Hell, they hadn’t even had sex, yet he felt like she’d moved into his mind and body, moved the furniture all around, put up a few pictures, and claimed the place as hers.
Breathless, and needing to be inside her so badly he ached from his teeth to his toes, he pressed his forehead to hers and said, “Since this opportunity was cut short, do I get another night to prove how good sex can be?”
She shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts, or get her bearings. “What about the rest of tonight?”
“Are you worried about Robby worrying about you?” He leaned back and watched her face so he could judge the honesty of her answer.
She smiled sheepishly and ducked her head.
“That’s what I thought. I thrive on challenges, but I’m not making love to you while your mind is preoccupied.”
She chewed on her lip and studied the floor.
He tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze head-on. “I can’t tell what you’re thinking if you’re not looking at me.”
“I want to see you again, but it makes me nervous.”
“Why?”
“Because… well, then it wouldn’t be a one-night fling, would it?”
Annoyance flared so strongly within him he had to consciously force his hand to relax so she wouldn’t pick up on the tension. Why did being a one-time fuck to her bother him so badly?
He lived in Myrtle Beach; she lived here. He had his career to think about and didn’t need the distraction of figuring out how to split his time between two places. What Sunny offered was a no strings, no attachment affair. The perfect situation.
Funny though, standing here looking into her eyes, the perfect situation no longer sounded perfect.
Maybe it was just an ego thing, since he hadn’t gotten the chance to prove to her how good it could be. How good they could be.
He dropped a kiss on her nose, then slipped to her mouth. This time, he was less aggressive and more persuasive. He stroked her tongue, the roof of her mouth, and sucked cajolingly on her lip. “Give me a full night. I promise I’ll make it worthwhile.”
Her lips parted and her eyes turned dreamy. “You win. When?”
Her sexy, ready-for-bed expression nearly made him say the hell with Robby and her state of mind. He could coax her into forgetting about everything except what they were doing. But now he was greedy. He didn’t want a quick lay in the bar. He wanted a bed and an entire night.
“When do you work again?”
“I work every night we’re open.”
“What’s the number here at the bar?” As she recited the number, he plugged it into his cellphone. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow and see what night works best for you.”
The lusty haze filling her eyes began to dissipate, and he could tell her brain was reigniting. Anxious to get away before she changed her mind, he said, “Grab your stuff and I’ll walk you to your car.”
She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “I’ll see myself out.”
He frowned. “I’m not letting you walk out by yourself.”
“It’s okay,” she said, her tone forceful, as it had been when telling Robby to go on home. “I walk out by myself all the time.”
Protectiveness rushed to the surface and filled him with concern. “That’s not safe. You should have Robby, or someone, with you.”
She waved a hand in the air, brushing off the comment. “This is Anticue, the safest place on earth.” She herded him toward the door. “I’ll be fine.” As they reached the door, she shocked the hell out of him by standing on tiptoes to kiss him long and deep.
When he found his voice again, he said, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Chapter Six
Morning sunlight danced on the hood of Gavin's SUV as he made his way through the iron gate and under the towering sego palms leading to Max Holden's estate. Gavin had pulled into this driveway every weekday morning for nearly twelve years, but he'd never grown comfortable with the massive show of wealth or air of pretentiousness surrounding the home.
Why did two people need twelve thousand square feet of extravagance? Even when Callie came home from college, or from one of her European vacations, it left four thousand square feet per person. It made sense if you didn’t like the people you lived with and never wanted to see them, but that wasn’t what Gavin wanted for himself.
Unfortunately, as the one on deck to take Max's place as CEO of Holden Enterprises, ostentation on his part was expected. Max believed living in an enormous show house, belonging to the top social clubs and country clubs, and being seen with the “right people” encouraged trust in investors and reassured them they'd made a wise investment.
Gavin had been carefully selected and groomed for the CEO office, but he didn’t know if he was cut out to be Max’s successor. Gavin possessed the intellectual ability to run Holden Enterprises, but he couldn’t change who he was at the core: a country boy, more comfortable in jeans and work boots than the thousand dollar Armani suits he wore to work every day.
He parked in the circular driveway, climbed from his SUV, and found himself whistling as he buttoned his suit coat and circled the side of the house. This was the same routine he followed every morning, but today felt different.
He felt different.
He should be exhausted, considering he didn't get to bed until after two a.m. and then spent the next four hours tossing and turning, assaulted by erotic images of a certain, sexy bartender. However, rather than being tired, he felt more alive than he had in years. Sunny sparked something inside him—something far more substantial than the fire in his pants.
He let himself in through the home’s side door that led into the kitchen. Morning didn’t officially start for him until his first cup of coffee, and Angelina, the Holdens’s housekeeper, made the best coffee in the world. “Good morning, Angie.”
“Good morning, Mr. Gavin.” Her thick Spanish accent made the greeting sound like a song, and her ever-present smile was radiant as she turned and handed him a steaming mug.
Gavin laughed and hugged the small woman, careful not to spill a drop of the cherished coffee. “Bless you.” He took a sip, then nodded in the general direction of Max's home office. “Is he in his office?”
“He is.” She spun around and flipped off a burner on the industrial-sized stove, then checked the oven. “Would you please tell him breakfast will be on the patio in ten minutes?”
“Sure will.” Gavin left the kitchen—the only room in this mausoleum in which he felt comfortable—and made his way to Max's office. His shoes clip, clip, clipped on the marble floor as he crossed the expansive foyer and traveled the long hallway leading to Max's office.
The humongous room housed Max’s cherry desk and chair, two guest chairs, a leather sofa, two leather chairs, and a coffee table. The leather sofa, chairs, and table created a seating area in front of the left wall that served as a small library. On the opposite wall, floor-to-ceiling windows flanked a set of french doors that opened to
the patio and pool.
Gavin shook Max’s outstretched hand before sinking into one of the guest chairs facing Max’s desk. “Morning, Max. Breakfast will be ready in ten.”
“Good.” Max relaxed into his chair and gave Gavin a warm, fatherly smile. “I presume you and Callie had an enjoyable evening.”
Thanks to Sunny, Gavin’s evening had been incredible. It remained to be seen how Callie viewed things.
She hadn’t minded the abrupt departure from the Blackout. If anything, she was relieved to leave the “disgusting place” behind. But she was plenty pissed-off when she realized Gavin’s intentions were to drop her off, then get the hell out. Over the next several hours, he received a dozen texts and voicemails, all letting him know the fun he was missing out on.
The last slurred message came in around four a.m., so he assumed she passed out shortly after. He figured if she saw the light of day any time soon, she’d seriously regret it.
However, those weren’t details a father needed to hear. And the details of his return trip to Anticue weren’t relevant, so he settled on a vague response. “I had a great time. I can’t answer for Callie and her friends.”
Max glanced at Gavin with obvious confusion. “Friends? I thought the two of you were going to the beach for a nice, quiet evening alone.”
Gavin shrugged. No one had been more surprised by the change of plans than him. Yesterday, while Max gave Gavin details about the Blackout, Callie conveniently strolled in. Call him paranoid, but he was convinced she lurked outside the door, waiting for just the right moment to breeze into Max's office and insinuate herself into Gavin's life.
He learned long ago that Callie got what Callie wanted, at least if her father had anything to say about it. And unfortunately for Gavin, she had her sights set on him. He didn’t share her enthusiasm and had zero interest in a spoiled daddy’s girl whose biggest concern was making sure her shoes and handbag matched.
He wanted someone who could carry on intelligent conversation. Someone with depth of character, who cared about things of importance. Someone who knew how to have fun and with whom he shared a strong physical attraction.
Last Call (Book #2 - Heat Wave Series) Page 5