Pulse (Collide)

by Gail McHugh

  “He’s nine years older than me,” she quickly whispered, nudging his ribs… hard. It was Emily whose smile widened when she heard Gavin release an audible “oof.” Looking at him, she shot him a wink this time. “Be nice.”

  Rubbing his rib, Gavin mocked severe pain for a second and then grinned. “Whatever you say… kiddo.”

  “Hi, Phil,” Emily said as he approached. “Yes, it was kind of a last minute trip.”

  Phil smiled. “The one who got away from me. It’s been way too long. You look absolutely beautiful. Actually, you look stunning.” Sweeping his gaze from Emily, his eyes landed on Gavin. “And who do we have here?”

  “We have here this stunning woman’s boyfriend.” Gavin held out his hand. Phil shook it, and Gavin found his grip weak. Yeah. He’d easily be able to knock him around. “I’m Gavin. It’s a pleasure meeting you, Phil. Emily’s told me a ton about you. It’s always good putting faces with the names of men she got away from.”

  Stepping back, Phil rubbed his chin, carefully analyzing Gavin. “Odd. She never once mentioned your name the last time I spoke to her.”

  “Which was over a year and a half ago,” Emily blurted out, staring at Gavin who now had his eyes narrowed on Phil. “I wasn’t dating anyone at the time.”

  “Right. Right,” Phil agreed, his eyes locked on Gavin’s. “That would make sense, I guess.”

  Gavin was far from an asshole. He could tell the guy was trying to ruffle his feathers. Time to pluck some feathers from the fucking turkey. “I knew you looked like a smart man, Phil,” Gavin said calmly, sweeping his arm around Emily’s waist. “I can spot them a mile away.”

  “Talent of yours?” Phil questioned.

  Gavin lifted a brow, a smirk toying at his mouth. “One of many. Ask Emily. She seems happy with my… talents. I’m pretty sure I can keep her from getting away.”

  Oh Jesus. If Emily had a knife, she could’ve cut right through the alpha-male tension filling the air.

  “Hey, hey, hey!” Michael approached the group, his jovial voice music to Emily’s ears.

  Tension deflating like a balloon, Emily leaned into her brother-in-law’s embrace, hoping he could bring a little balance to the semi-heated situation. She let out a weighted breath. “Hey, big brother.”

  “Hey, little sister,” Michael laughed, releasing Emily from his bear hug. “Looking good.”

  “You’re not looking too bad yourself,” Emily said, her smile growing by the second.

  Michael patted his stomach. “You like the extra cushion?”

  Emily giggled. “Love it.”

  Wearing a proud smile, Michael turned to Gavin. “Hey, buddy. Good to see you again.”

  Gavin accepted Michael’s hand. “You too, man. How’ve you been?”

  “You know. Same old. Just be careful with this one,” he said, jerking his chin in Emily’s direction, a grin smothering his face. “If you stay with her long enough and she ever learns to cook, she might turn you into a fat slob the way her sister did me.”

  Gavin chuckled. “I’ll take whatever she can give me. Even the clogged arteries.”

  “Good man.” Michael patted Gavin’s shoulder. “We’re about to get this show started. Who’s ready for some kickass food?”

  Feeling her stomach growl, Emily grabbed Gavin’s hand and started for the dining room, dragging him along. “I am.” She plucked a basket of rolls from the counter and craned her head back to look at Gavin. “You’re ready to eat, right?”

  “Depends on what I’m eating,” he whispered into her ear, his tone seductive. Wrapping his free hand around her waist, he pressed his pelvis against her ass. “Unless my assumption of keeping you from getting away was wrong, I’d like to enjoy my dessert somewhere on your body after dinner.”

  Sucking in a deep breath and tingles overtaking every inch of her, Emily stopped and watched Michael and Phil breeze into the dining room. Phil’s eyes locked on hers until he disappeared around the corner.

  Emily spun around, her gaze catching the sexiest baby blues ever placed upon a man’s face. “Gavin Blake, you listen to me right now.” Her eyes dropped to his luscious lips forming a smartass smirk. She bit her own lip in an effort to cause pain that might possibly distract her. It didn’t work. Gavin stepped closer, and the smell of his cologne completely fucked up her plans. God, she wanted him. Bad. Her heart jumped into her throat as he nuzzled his nose against her hair. She tried to breathe. “You’re not listening to me.”

  “I’m all ears, sweets,” he said, his voice low. “Talk to me.”

  “You’re making it difficult,” she breathed.

  And he was because his hand was now lightly rubbing the back of her neck, his eyes drilling into hers. “I’m making it difficult for you to speak?”

  “Yes, you bastard. You are,” she whispered.

  Gavin chuckled. “God, I love it when you get nasty. You have no idea how much it turns me on.”

  Wanting to melt into him right there, Emily poked her head into the dining room. Everyone was already seated and waiting for them. She turned back to him, her voice becoming heated. “Gavin, are you going to make me beg you to stop?”

  Gavin blinked. “Are you trying to get me to take you right here in the kitchen?”

  Shaking her head and about ready to let him do exactly that, Emily laughed and reached for his hand, once again pulling him along. The escape into the dining room was quick but comical as she heard Gavin release a dejected sigh. She felt bad, but considering he commanded a room by simply being in it, she loved knowing she had power over him.

  “So how’d she do on the flight, Gavin?” Michael asked. “Did you need to drug her up?”

  Emily rolled her eyes as Gavin pulled out her seat. “No, he didn’t have to drug me up.”

  Lounging into the chair next to her, Gavin smirked, slipped his hand under the table, and rested it on Emily’s thigh. Drawing tiny circles along her silk skirt, he smiled when he felt her shift. “I was able to talk her down. It was easier than I expected, though.”

  “Good,” Michael said, dumping a pile of green beans onto his plate.

  “I’m sure being on a private jet helped some,” Lisa said, reaching for a bowl of mashed potatoes. After scooping some out, she handed them to Emily. “Those seven-forty-sevens scare the shit out of me.”

  “Private jet?” Phil stared in shock across the table. “Did you hit the lotto?”

  Gavin turned to Emily, a lazy smile on his face.

  She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “In more ways than one,” she whispered. Gavin squeezed her thigh, his smile widening. Emily shoveled some mashed potatoes onto her plate. Looking at Gavin, her eyes questioned if he wanted some. Gavin nodded, and she served him up a pile. “No, Phil, the jet’s Gavin’s. And, Lisa, you’re correct. It’s better than flying on seven-forty-sevens. But either way, you’re still in the air where humans don’t belong. I hate it.”

  Gavin and Michael chuckled.

  “Shit,” Lisa chimed, standing to her feet. “What are you two drinking?” she asked, looking at Emily and Gavin.

  “Red wine,” Emily answered.

  “Thank you,” Gavin said. “I’ll take a beer if you have one.”

  Lisa nodded and whisked off to the kitchen.

  Leaning back, Phil crossed his arms. “A man who owns a jet drinks a simple beer? I would’ve thought someone who could afford such a luxury would prefer something more refined. Looks can be deceiving.”

  Emily’s eyes flew from Gavin—clenching his jaw—to Michael, his hand halted with his fork inches from his mouth. She swallowed nervously, placing her hand over Gavin’s on her thigh.

  Amusement at the asshole’s statement glimmered in Gavin’s eyes as he leaned back, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t aware there were rules to what one should drink whether they’re rich, poor, or somewhere in the middle, Phil. It’d be interesting to hear how you formed this opinion, though.”

  Lisa emerged from the kitchen and handed Emily an
d Gavin their drinks.

  Gavin popped the top off the bottle, leaned over, and placed a luscious kiss on Emily’s lips as he slid the cap into her palm. Leaving Emily breathless, he returned his attention to Phil. A simpering smile broke out across Gavin’s face as he continued. “What’s your source of information? Reader’s Digest? Newsday? Perhaps a woman’s magazine?” Before he let Phil answer his barrage of questions, Gavin leaned back over to Emily and whispered, “I owed you a bottle cap since the last few times I drank, I forgot to give you one. I’m sorry.”

  Cupping his cheek, she stared into his eyes. “I love you. And I love your bottle caps more than you’ll ever know.”

  Gavin quirked a brow. “Yeah? Even though I have a fuckload of money, you love my bottle caps? Should my caps be more… refined?”

  “No,” she said breathlessly. “They’re perfect.”

  “Are you sure?” he whispered, his eyes searching her face. “Phil and his semi-bald head might disagree.”

  “Phil’s an asshole, and you’re perfect,” she whispered back, lacing her hands around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. Uncaring that everyone seated at the table was most definitely watching them, Emily indulged in his lips for a few more seconds before pulling away.

  Staring into her eyes, Gavin mouthed the word “Inhaling” before once again shooting his glare back to Phil. “Sorry about that. I find it hard to control myself where Emily’s concerned. I’m sure you understand. Oh wait. You couldn’t. She’s the one who got away.” Gavin threw him a wink and picked up his fork. “Back to what I was saying. Your source of information on such an outlandish assumption would be… what?”

  Phil shifted and cleared his throat. “No source of information. I guess it was just an assumption.”

  Lisa’s eyes went wide, clearly confused by the conversation that’d taken place while getting their drinks.

  Smiling at her sister, Emily shook her head, trying to stifle a bout of laughter threatening to erupt from her belly.

  “That’s what I figured,” Gavin said, bringing his unrefined bottle of Budweiser to his lips. “So, what do you do for a living, Phil?”

  Phil adjusted his tie, the uncomfortable set in his body palpable. “I own a real estate development company.”

  Seated to Emily’s right at the head of the table, Michael swung his head in Emily’s direction, his voice low. “Phil’s a moron. Always has been and always will be. But I deal with him because I love your sister.” Emily nodded, admiring the way Michael always put Lisa’s feelings before his. “Gavin’s one badass motherfucker. I like him.”

  With a light smile, Emily glanced at Gavin, who appeared to be paying attention to Phil detail how he started his company, but she knew the conversation was boring him. She swept her gaze back to Michael. “Yeah, he is. Thank you. I’m happy you approve.”

  “How can I not?” Michael gave her arm a little nudge. “Besides the fact Lisa told me he dug into Dillon for what he did to you, you’re glowing, and I respect him for making you happy. I wish you two the best of luck.”

  “Thank you, Michael.” Emily leaned over and popped a kiss on his cheek. “I appreciate that.”

  “No problem.”

  As everyone ate, whether it was because Gavin had set him straight or because he simply didn’t try again, Emily enjoyed not having to listen to Phil act like an ass. The tension that’d started the evening disappeared, bleeding away into laughter. With Christmas music spurring through the air and good home-cooked food in their bellies, they all conversed easily. After clearing the table and bidding Phil an eager goodbye, Emily helped Lisa put the kitchen back in order as Gavin and Michael chatted it out about who would win tomorrow’s basketball game. Staying faithful to his New York roots and showing Michael his wiseass side, Gavin egged him on, saying that the New York Knicks were going to wipe the floor with the Lakers.

  Needless to say, the two men agreed to disagree.

  Feeling a yawn lurking, Emily decided to grab a hot shower before turning in for the night. She popped a kiss on top of Gavin’s head, left the two men to themselves, and laughed to herself when she heard Gavin mention something about his beloved Yankees beating her Birds. She dragged her luggage into the guest room, closed the door, and shook her head, sure he would never let her live that one down. As she hauled her suitcase onto the bed, she wondered how many times he would harass her over the course of the upcoming baseball season. She was positive it would be too many times to count. She just hoped her Birds would make a sweet comeback, making her harassment even sweeter.

  After indulging in a long, hot shower, she towel dried her hair and slipped into soft cotton shorts and a tank top. When she emerged from the bathroom, not only did she find Gavin’s clothing strewed out across the bed, she also found the door to the balcony wide open. A breeze curled through the room, causing a shiver to prickle up Emily’s spine. Though it was Southern California, the evenings usually brought cooler temperatures. Pulling a chenille blanket from the queen-sized bed, she wrapped it around her body and made her way onto the balcony.

  Sitting in an Adirondack chair, his bare feet perched on the iron railing, wearing a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, Gavin sipped on a beer as he watched the waves tumbling in the distance. Another shiver, one that didn’t have to do with the colder air, moved through Emily when Gavin turned. He caught her gaze, his blue eyes beckoning her in an instant. Longing lit up in the hard angles of his face.

  Odd. She was no longer chilly.

  After placing his beer on the ground, the glass clinking on the concrete, Gavin dropped his legs from the railing. Widening his knees, his smile was slow and deliciously sexy. Emily stepped between his thighs and crawled into his lap. She rested her back against his hard chest, curled the blanket over their bodies, her senses immediately drowning in the raw heat emanating from him.

  Gavin pushed her hair away from her shoulder and lowered his mouth to the crook of her neck, his breath hot as he sucked lightly. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he whispered, his husky words telling Emily what she already knew. He was about to inhale her. Snaking his hands under her tank top, he ghosted them across her belly, sliding them upward, until he had both breasts cupped in his hands. “You like leaving me hanging, don’t you?”

  Butterflies swarmed Emily’s stomach, her body quivering under his touch. “It’s the only control I have over you,” she breathed, her voice shaky. She could almost hear the smile on his face. She could definitely feel his growing erection pressing against her ass.

  With his thumbs, he slowly stroked the swell of her breasts. “Do you want me to keep touching you?”

  Nipples hard as pearls, Emily arched her back against his chest. She bit her lip as he nipped her shoulder. “We’re going to stay out here?” she asked. Her attention flew to the beach below them where a group of rowdy, apparently drunk teenagers were setting up a bonfire. “They might see us, Gavin.”

  “It’s too dark up here. They won’t see anything,” he whispered. His low, primal voice vibrated over her skin as he twirled her nipples. Pinching them lightly, he licked behind her ear and pulled her tank top up over her head, dropping it beside them.

  The cool night air danced across Emily’s bare chest. She tried to breathe, tried to think. Words entirely left her mind.

  “Now answer my question,” he whispered, running his tongue up her neck. “Do you want me to keep touching you?”

  She wanted him. Wanted him desperately. With each feather-light touch, she felt her core tighten, throbbing, begging to have any part of him inside her. Gavin pinched her nipples again, and she let out a soft moan. Desire won the battle of her embarrassment about possibly being caught, shattering any thought of not allowing this to happen. Suddenly hyperaware of her body, her cheeks flushed. “Yes,” she whispered, “I want you to keep touching me.”

  “Tell me where you want me to touch you, Emily,” he commanded, his voice caressing her name.

  “My pussy,” she managed to
get out.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t hear you. Can you repeat that?” he asked in a low growl, his hands grazing the sides of her ribcage.

  Dear, God. His fingertips brushed fire against her skin, simmering heat deep within her belly. “My pussy,” she repeated, trying to keep the undertone of begging from her voice.

  “You want me to touch that pretty pussy?” He hooked his thumbs in her shorts, the hard edge in his tone dripping with carnal need. “Is that what you want?”

  “Yes,” she moaned, slightly lifting her ass, as he slipped her shorts and panties past her thighs. With her toes, she yanked them down, the blanket following behind them to the ground. To hell with not begging. She was beyond it at this point. She’d do anything he asked her. “God, Gavin, please. Please touch it.” The words tasted like chocolate-covered strawberries, sweet and delicious.

  With one hand around her stomach and the other nudging open her thighs, Gavin couldn’t help but groan as Emily whimpered before he’d even touched her. Fuck. She drove him mad. Dismantled him to pieces. He wanted her spread wide. “Put your feet on the edge of the chair.”

  Pulse racing wildly and already soaked in anticipation, Emily did as he said. Gently, he pushed two fingers inside of her, and she flung her head back against his shoulder, her arms instinctively flying behind her. She tensed, fighting her fear of being discovered. Quietly moaning, she dug her fingers into his hair, her clawing grip tight as she moved in synch with his strokes. With the sound of the tide ripping in and out in the cool night air, and their breathing picking up pace, Emily shamelessly ground harder against his fingers. Her muscles clenched, drawing them in deeper. Trailing his lips along her shoulder, Gavin dragged his free hand from her stomach, up over the lush swell of her breast, and settled it around her neck. He pushed deeper inside her warmth. Emily’s breath caught as he swirled his thumb in quick circles over her wet clit, his low groans and greedy mouth devouring her flesh, arousing her further.

  Pulling her back by her neck, fingers slowly pumping in and out, Gavin angled her face and crushed his mouth to hers. “Take your hands out of my hair and squeeze those beautiful tits for me,” he groaned, licking through her mouth.