CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
DREW
––––––––
We walk into SoHo Stables and the server, who knows me, leads me to my regular table.
“Did you book this advance? You need a booking a month out.” Gemma glances at me over her shoulder.
“Sure.” I place my hand in the small of her back and guide her into the chair.
Thanking the server, I pick up the menu, already knowing what I want. The same filet mignon with a French bearnaise sauce I choose almost every time.
I lower it and watch Gemma as she licks her lips.
My pants tighten.
Again.
She looks stunning in a navy dress that hugs her curves and a stylish black blazer. Her silky hair is tucked behind her ears, which are adorned with diamonds.
I think about the necklace sitting in my safe at home, and how it belongs to her. What the fuck do I need with a diamond necklace? I admit to myself that I purchased it for her. Gemma makes me confess, even to myself, things I am not willing to accept.
That she captured my attention the moment I met her.
That I wanted to fuck her three seconds later.
That since then, right up to this very moment, she has become more than a sexual challenge. I care about her. Feelings that have no place in this relationship keep dominating my decisions.
Which is why I need Gemma to take the money and walk out of my life.
Open Leaf is being pulled to pieces.
Oh yeah, then why did you exclude the Manhattan branch?
I grimace and glance at the table next to us, seeking distraction, and wouldn’t you know it, in he walks.
Damon.
My stepbrother.
“Fancy seeing you here.” Damon grins as he approaches our table.
I glance at Gemma, who is staring between us as she sips her water, clearly working out we’re related given how similar we look.
“Get your own regular lunch place.” I stand and shake his hand. “Gemma, this is my stepbrother, Damon.”
I watch his greedy eyes and fight the urge to tell him she belongs to me.
This needs to end.
“Pleasure is all mine.” Damon smiles like a dirty old man.
“Hello. Boy, you look almost alike despite not being blood related.”
“Wait until you meet Derek, his cousin. The two of them are like twins,” Damon tells her, shaking her hand.
Gemma coughs, her eyes bulging. “Oh, that’s...great?”
I let out a groan, and Damon smirks at me.
Crap.
No man in the history of ever wants his male relatives to know that he likes a girl. Not that I like her. Clearly, I like her...I’d fuck her morning, noon, and night if she’d let me.
It just won’t lead to...
My point is, I don’t want Derek or Damon to sniff out my weakness. Gemma is my kryptonite. I’m man enough to admit it.
And it’s a problem I will deal with.
Soon.
“Well.” I sigh casually. “We’re in the middle of a business meeting, so I need to cut this short,” I lie.
Damon’s smirk stretches wider. “Is that right?”
Take the hint, motherfucker.
Gemma nods, and I nearly kiss her.
“Then I will leave you both to your business. Very nice to meet you, Gemma.”
Leave.
He rubs a thumb over his bottom lip, a classic Damon move when he’s thinking about a woman’s panties. Which means he has three seconds before I punch his lights out.
“Goodbye,” I grind out.
Laughing, he slaps me on the back and chuckles as he walks off.
I sit and take a big sip from my glass of wine.
“What was that about?” Gemma frowns.
“Do you have any siblings?” I take another sip.
“Yes. Belinda. My younger sister.” She smiles, and I feel myself relaxing once more.
“Tell me about her.”
“She’s prettier than me, smarter, and probably someone you’d want to date.”
“I don’t date.” I lower my brows, hating what she’s insinuating. That she’s not my type.
That I’m not her type.
“So you say.” Gemma plays with her fork.
“I wouldn’t date your fucking sister if I did,” I snap, and she blanches.
We both stare at one another.
“I mean, if you wanted to, you could.” Her cheeks burn.
“Stop it.”
Gemma’s eyes dip.
I lean forward on my arms, and she looks back. “A date is something you do when you’re intending to marry a woman. I don’t date, Gemma. And I certainly won’t be dating your sister or any relative of yours. Are we clear?”
Her eyes flare, and I know I’ve hit a sore spot.
“Actually, Drew, a date is something you do when you enjoy the company of a man or woman. It doesn’t have to lead to marriage.”
I let out a huff.
Then something occurs to me. It has been a year since her husband died, and I know Gemma is not the kind of woman who is going to sit on the shelf, so to speak. She must be thinking about it now that I’ve popped her faux cherry.
We both know it won’t be me.
This needs to end.
I don’t fucking like where this is going.
“Do you plan to marry again?” I demand, more firmly than I should.
Gemma laughs.
Laughs!
“Oh. Wow. Ah, well, I don’t mean to be awkward, but you’re the first man I’ve slept with...since.”
“I knew.” I don’t take my eyes off her, waiting for her to say more.
“Really?”
I nod.
“God, was I terrible? Out of practice.” Gemma cringes. “Both times? God, how embarrassing?”
Christ.
My arm stretches out along the table. “Sex is a dual act, Gemma. I think we both know it wasn’t terrible.”
She blushes. “No.”
What she doesn’t do is answer my question and tell me she’s not in the market for a husband. Which means the answer is yes.
The server arrives. “Two of the steaks and a green salad.”
“Yes, sir.”
When he walks away, I notice Gemma shaking her head. “What?”
“You keep ordering for me.” She lifts her water. “What if I wanted a chicken salad?”
“You don’t like chicken salad. You never order them, and I can tell you’re hungry because you keep looking at other people’s meals,” I tell her. “You’ll like the steak.”
“You’re bossy.”
No, I’m not.
“I’m dominant. There’s a difference.”
Gemma tips her head. “Dominant. Is that something you are with your business colleagues or with women you date?”
Little witch.
“For the last time, I do not date. This is business.”
Her grin appears, a sparkle in her eyes. “Good. Then you can start this business meeting by telling me why you want to buy me out of the contract.”
I was wrong: Gemma Ford is a she-devil.
She’s not half as innocent as I think she is.
“Touche,” I say.
I spend the rest of the meal watching her eat, fighting my erection and wondering if she knows something I don’t. Namely, that I can’t seem to extricate this woman out of my life.
And there’s only one reason for that.
I don’t fucking want to.
––––––––
ON THE WAY back to the office, I roll up the privacy screen and turn to face her. The chemistry between us has been building for the past hour.
Not being able to touch her makes my skin itch, and I’m about to fucking explode.
“Gemma.”
Her fully dilated eyes lift to mine knowingly.
I cup her face and slam my mouth down on hers, and the groan she lets out drives me further, tugging her against my chest.
The floral blast of her perfume almost undoes me.
I undo my pants and place her hand on my cock.
“Drew...”
“Suck me, Gemma. I need your mouth on my shaft now.”
“We shouldn’t—” I slip my fingers under her dress and tug her panties until they snap. “Oh, God.”
When I push her legs apart and slide two fingers roughly inside her, I see her brain switch off and body take over.
“You’re going to come while you suck my dick. Then, when we get to the office, you will walk back inside like a good girl. Okay?”
Fire flares in her globes.
She leans down and takes my cock in her mouth, and I lean around her so I can keep finger fucking her sweet pussy. Jesus Christ, she’s dripping down my fingers.
The moment her hot mouth tightens around my cock, I almost come.
“Yes, fuck,” I cry. “Right down your throat. Go faster. Suck me harder.”
Gemma moans, full of my cock, as my fingers move rapidly in and out of her tight channel.
“Feel that. I’m fucking you as we drive through Manhattan.”
Thank goodness for tinted, bullet-proof windows. Something I invested in when I made my first billion.
“Drew, fuck,” she cries, stroking my shaft with her hand and mouth.
“I was fantasizing about over lunch, baby. You taking my cock, my cum dripping down your chin.”
Her cunt clenches around my fingers as her body begins to shudder. I thrust my hips, going deeper down her throat.
“Fuck, that’s it. You’re a fucking dirty girl, Gemma. Oh, yeah, God. Yes. Fuck.”
Her mouth snaps off my cock as I come, crying out her orgasm. I take over, stroking until every drip has released.
Gemma watches, her eyes lifting to mine, looking flushed and well-fucked, as I pull my fingers out of her. I lick them.
She flops back against the leather, letting out a moan.
I grab her face and kiss her. “This is not over. I want to fuck your pussy again,” I growl.
Her haunted look sends a jolt of warning through me.
This needs to end.
Fuck that. I’m not done.
I’m starting to wonder when the fuck I will be. If I ever will be.