Chapter Three Emily
Chapter Three
Emily
Are you asking me what those needs are? Or are you wanting to see just how I take care of them?
Gavin had only said those words once in his deep, gritty, sexy voice, but I continued to hear them over and over as they repeated in my head. And when his cobalt gaze accompanied those two sentences, it felt as though I were sitting on this couch, buck-ass naked, panting, with my legs spread.
I was no prude. In fact, I was the complete opposite. Sexually, I was extremely in tune with my body and what I wanted.
But there was something about Gavin—the way he looked at me, the way he made me feel, the size of his body and how I found him so consumingly handsome—that made me realize I didn’t have the sexual upper hand.
He did.
And I willingly gave it to him.
With each second of silence that passed, my nerves came on stronger, and a shyness was building—two things that normally didn’t have a presence, but they’d been churning inside me since I took a seat in his living room, the two warring with one another.
“I . . .” My voice cut off. Why was I having such a hard time expressing myself?
Because this whole night felt like a fantasy?
Because I never envisioned getting a close-up of the man I’d been drooling over at the hockey game?
Because I was so sex deprived, I was mentally humping his words?
“Yes, I’m asking you what those needs are, and I’m also wanting to see just how you take care of them. ”
I felt his exhale even though there was a whole cushion between us.
Stillness followed.
Five seconds, ten. I didn’t know how long we sat like that. It just seemed that nothing was moving aside from what was happening in me.
And then, suddenly, he got up from the couch and stood in front of me, holding out his hand for me to take. “Come with me.”
Did this mean he was going to show me how he took care of his needs?
The tingles in my body weren’t just igniting—they were exploding.
Even more so as my fingers landed within his grasp. A touch that made me breathless. That made my insides melt toward my outsides, the aching between my legs increasing to a throbbing.
Once I was on my feet, his palm pressed to mine, he lifted the bottle we’d been drinking from and walked me into the kitchen. The closeness was a heat I wasn’t expecting. His stature and broadness, while still a pace ahead, made me feel the tiniest.
I couldn’t imagine facing this man on a football field.
But facing him here, I wanted nothing more.
He set the bottle on the island and turned toward me, his hand landing on my upper arm, dragging higher to my shoulder and eventually stopping on my neck.
A touch so subtle, yet my back arched.
I heard myself intake some air, but I didn’t feel it.
All I felt was him.
“God, you’re fucking gorgeous.”
My heart was pounding out of my chest, his statement only making it beat faster.
Things from there happened so quickly, I couldn’t keep track of the steps, but the next thing I knew, I was sitting beside the bottle on the counter and he was standing in front of me.
Our faces were close.
His chest was goading me to touch it.
He lifted the scotch to his lips, taking several sips. “Are you hungry?”
It took a few moments before his question registered. “As in . . . food?”
He laughed. “Yes, Emily, as in food.”
I’d been so fixated on him, none of my senses were picking up on anything else. But now I noticed the kitchen smelled incredible, a delicious combo of tomato sauce and meat.
My stomach growled.
“Ben eats early—too early for me. While he eats, I usually have a salad so I can do dinner with him, and I eat the main part of my meal later on. That was about to happen when he came bolting down the stairs with the button up his nose. So I shut off the oven, keeping the pizza in there. Are you up for having a slice?”
My brain wasn’t anywhere near the thought of ingesting food. Neither was my stomach, but maybe putting something in my mouth would tame the thoughts that were running through my head. “Sure.”
“It’s either you or pizza, but I fucking need to eat something.” He gave me a smile.
And when he turned around and went over to the oven, I completely lost it, dissolving into a pool of wetness on his counter.
He slipped his hand into a mitt, opening the door and removing a large pizza stone, placing it on top of the gas burners. “It’s homemade.” He looked at me over his shoulder. “Pepperoni, mushrooms, and jalapenos. You good with those toppings?”
I nodded. “Homemade—you’re saying you cook?”
As he turned back toward the stove, taking a plate out of one of the cabinets and a pizza cutter from a drawer, he replied, “I can. I’m actually pretty decent at it.
” He placed a slice on the plate, put the rest of the pizza back in the oven, and brought the plate over to me.
“I don’t do it often. That’s only because I don’t have the time.
If I didn’t work as much, I’d probably cook every night.
I enjoy it. This, though, I didn’t make. ”
I balanced the plate in front of me and lifted the slice. “Who made it?”
“I have a chef.”
My brain had immediately thought it was a woman in his life, even though he’d already confirmed he had no such thing. But of course he had a chef. The man was a billionaire.
“Goals.” I released a long sigh. “Honestly, that’s so dreamy.”
“It’s a time-saver. But you know, I’d rather do it myself. I love getting lost in tastes and smells and experimenting with different combinations.”
He made everything sound like a sex song.
“Now that’s a sight I’d like to see.” I chewed on my lip.
His brows raised. “Me in the kitchen, you mean?”
“A man who can cook—I die over the thought of that.”
“Don’t die. He’s right here.” He brought the bottle up to his lips, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “What do you think of the pizza?”
I’d taken a small bite, surprised that it wasn’t dried out and still somewhat warm, the crust crispy like I preferred, the toppings a perfect mix. “Delicious.”
“It’s not too cold?”
“Cold doesn’t bother me, but no, it’s not.” I nodded toward him. “Are you not having any?”
He bent his head and leaned his body in closer, causing me to instantly draw in some air, and he took a bite from the side of my slice.
I laughed as I watched him chew. “You’re an animal off the field too.”
He smirked. “I’d rather have some of yours.”
“And what if I don’t like to share?”
He swallowed and moved in again, holding eye contact as his mouth parted and he surrounded the crust. He paused right there, the smile no longer on his lips but in his eyes, and he eventually pulled back to chew what he’d bitten off.
“I told you, it’s either you or pizza—but I’m going to eat something. ”
“Do you want me to make that choice for you?”
“I want you to tell me what you want, Emily.”
I set down the plate and took the bottle from his hand. There was something so sensual about putting my lips on the same place his had just been, letting the scotch pour into my mouth, burning my tongue before it went down my throat.
There was no such thing as liquid courage at this point.
I knew what I wanted. It was brewing within me, and saying it out loud was going to give me such relief.
I licked the wetness off my lips. “You.”
“Me.” His head did a solo nod, and he flattened his palms on either side of me.
“I need to explain something to you.” He positioned himself between my legs, his hands now on my neck, aiming my eyes up at his.
“It’s about the question you asked, the one I’ve yet to answer, so I will right now.
Yes, I have needs, Emily. Needs that are strong, that are fucking hungry, that are feral.
And how I take care of those needs is with women.
I already told you that I don’t have time for dating.
My son gets all of me, and there are no exceptions to that.
So when I’m with a woman, it’s for one night and one night only.
Tonight, I want that woman to be you.” He stroked his thumb along the bottom of my jaw, goose bumps rising over every inch of my skin.
“If I’m what you want, I need to know that you’re okay with these parameters.
That you understand exactly what I’m saying.
That you won’t be expecting any more from me. ”
If I was looking for honesty, I couldn’t have possibly gotten any more than what he’d just voiced.
The guidelines had been defined.
Nothing would happen beyond tonight.
But what I would get out of this, more than likely, was the best sex of my life.
Or, at the very least, I would be getting laid by the hottest man alive, with a body I was dying to see naked.
And I would get to fulfill every thought that had run through my head since seeing Gavin on the ice at that game.
Plus, I would finally be out of this endless sex-deprived zone.
I didn’t know whether he was someone I wanted to date. I didn’t know whether we were even compatible. All I knew was that our sexual chemistry was scorching, I was beyond attracted to him, and if anyone was going to rock my world, I wanted it to be him.
“I accept.” I finally touched his chest, my fingertips meeting muscle that was as hard as the counter beneath me. “But under one condition.”
“I’m listening.”
“The most I’ve ever gotten off in one night was twice. Gavin”—I tapped his pec, the feel of it causing me to let out a tiny moan—“you need to break that record.”
He let out a chuckle, a sound that wrapped around my legs and dove between them. “I’m not just going to break it. I’m going to fucking destroy it.”