Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
ROSEMARIE
I tipped back the rest of my drink in one long swallow, relishing the burn that settled low in my belly. Not from the alcohol so much as from the lingering sting of Gavin’s voice in my ear, from the hand he’d pressed to my hip and the thought of what was to come.
I set the empty glass down harder than I meant to. By the time I could catch my breath, he was gone. Disappeared into the crowd like a shadow. My gaze snapped in the direction he walked, scanning every broad back and flexing forearm in the room.
God, it was a tragedy I didn’t watch him walk away. I missed the way those jeans molded to his thick thighs and perfectly taut ass.
And then the thought slammed into me like a wave of cold water:
My father.
Gavin had walked back to sit down with my father.
The heat between my legs went cold in an instant, replaced with rising panic.
Had Dad seen him with me? Had he recognized the way Gavin had looked at me—or the way I’d looked right back?
My eyes darted wildly across the room, brushing over every corner and every occupied booth I could see.
No sign of him. No sign of either of them.
A shaky breath escaped me as I leaned toward Elodie and pulled my phone from the back pocket of her leather skirt. Brushing my hand over her shoulder, she peeled herself away from the bartender long enough to glance at me.
“Hey,” I said, tucking a curl behind my ear, doing my best to sound casual. “I’m gonna run to the restroom for a second. Will you order me a water from the pretty girl you’re drooling over while I’m gone?”
Elodie smirked. “You sure you don’t want me to come with?” she asked, brushing a dark strand of hair from her bare shoulder.
I waved her off with a quick smile. “Nah. I’ll be quick.”
“Okay.” She grinned, leaning closer to whisper. “Just don’t do anything too scandalous in there. Don’t think because I’ve been looking at bartender babe since we walked in that I didn’t notice Mr. Tall Salt-and-pepper DILF come over a moment ago.”
“Ha-ha,” I quipped, brushing past her and heading toward the hallway marked by a faintly glowing sign reading Restrooms.
The hallway narrowed, darker and quieter than the rest of the club, faint thumps of bass reverberating through the walls.
The floor here was slightly worn, scuffed from countless high heels and soles.
My palm found the rough surface of the wall for balance as I made my way down, brushing my fingers along exposed brick that felt almost grainy.
The air smelled faintly of expensive perfume and a hint of smoke that no air freshener could cover.
The door to the ladies’ room gave as I pressed it open, and suddenly—
“Umph!”
I stumbled as I walked straight into someone, bouncing backward like I’d hit a cement wall.
Except it wasn’t cement.
It was Teagan.
She gave me a once-over like she could somehow read every guilty thought swirling in my head, one hand propped on a hip that might as well be made for judgment.
“Watch where you’re going,” she snapped, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from the front of her leather jacket.
“Sorry,” I said quickly, brushing down the side of my dress. “I didn’t mean to run into you.”
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me. “What are you doing here? Thought you always said you weren’t much of a club person.”
I forced a shrug, brushing my hair over my shoulder like it didn’t matter. “Girls’ night. Elodie wanted to come.”
Her gaze lingered for a long moment. Too long. Too sharp.
Then she gave a tight, knowing sneer and stepped past, brushing the edge of her jacket intentionally against my bare arm.
“Right,” she said slowly. “Well, have fun tonight … Rosie.”
I stayed rooted to the spot until I could no longer hear the sound of her heels clicking down the hallway. I entered the restroom and slammed the door behind me. I locked it and then my thumbs flew across my phone screen as I tapped out a quick text to Elodie.
ME
Teagan’s here. Stay alert. She’s in a MOOD.
I set the phone down on the counter, brushing my sweaty palms down the sides of my dress. The room was quiet except for the hum of the ceiling fan and the faint throb of music from beyond the door.
Then the screen lit up with a text. Not from Elodie.
From Gavin.
GAVIN
Unlock the door, Rose.
My breath caught. My hand stilled. My pulse jumped. Slowly, shakily, I crossed the space and slid the latch. The door opened just a sliver—and then a strong hand was wrapping around the door, pushing it open. Suddenly he was inside the tiny bathroom, filling the small space like a storm.
“Gavin,” I breathed, voice shaking.
He didn’t say a word. He just stepped closer, and the door shut with a quiet click of the lock behind him. His gaze burned down at me, a mix of restraint and desperation, and then one big warm hand found the small of my waist, hauling me closer until my body was pressed flush against his.
The air between us was electric, crackling with tension.
His palm slid lower, brushing over the curve of my hip, and I tilted my chin up to meet the heat of his mouth.
The kiss was deep and claiming, a growl sounding low in his chest as I melted into him.
My hands rose to brace against the firm planes of his chest, then they traced upward, brushing the strong line of his throat until my fingers sank into the short hair at the nape of his neck.
He groaned and spun us, pressing my back to the counter.
The edge bit into my lower spine but I arched into him, chasing the feel of every hard line of his body.
He deepened the kiss, teeth grazing my lower lip before soothing the sting with a slow swipe of his tongue.
His hand found its way down, brushing the bare skin of my thigh where the slit in the dress tempted him.
My breath hitched as his palm slipped higher, teasing closer to where I ached for him.
“Gavin,” his name left as more of a plea wrapped in a moan.
He broke the kiss just long enough to rest his forehead to mine, voice low and ragged. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he gritted out, brushing the tip of his nose down the side of my neck, leaving a burning trail of goosebumps in its wake. “Shouldn’t be thinking about you every goddamn second.”
My hands rose, cupping the sharp angles of his jaw as I tilted it to capture his mouth again. “Take me home, Daddy,” I breathed, brushing a kiss over the corner of his mouth before pulling him closer.
He growled low and deep, brushing his nose down the column of my throat.
His hand found the curve of my ass, pulling me into him until I could feel every inch of his very hard cock trying to escape those perfectly tight jeans.
The sting of teeth at the spot where my neck curved to my shoulder drew a breathless whine from my throat, and the sound only made him harder.
Through it all, the faint beat of music from the other side of the door reminded us where we were, how little time we had, and how dangerous this was. But right now, pressed between the sink and the solid weight of him, every warning thought went blissfully quiet.
Here in this tiny bathroom, in this stolen moment, it was only the burn of his hands, the crush of his mouth, and the delicious ache tightening deep in my belly until it threatened to break.
And when he finally lifted his head, brushing the pad of his thumb over my kiss-swollen lips, I could only stare up at him, breathless, every nerve in my body tuned to the sound of that low, rasping voice as he reminded me, “Next time … it won’t be just a kiss, Rose.”
With one last searing glance, he slipped out the door, leaving me pressed against the counter, burning, shaking, and desperately wishing he would come back.
I’d just have to wait for him to text me that he was done having drinks with my father.