“You are the professional,” Gavin said with a smile. “Let’s take care of this in my office.” He then turned to Emily. “By all means, make yourself at home. Natasha should be out in a minute. I’m sure she’ll keep you…like, busy.” He winked and then disappeared down the hall with Dillon.
Emily stood mute like a statue in the living room for a moment as she tried to catch her breath. She licked her lips slowly as the tingles that Gavin evoked from within her body worked their way up from her toes to the top of her head.
So…fucking…dangerous.
Sighing, she moved out to the terrace, hoping the fresh air would soothe the chaos wreaking havoc in her mind.
Being that the penthouse was a corner unit, stunning wraparound views of Central Park and the East River immediately awed her. The terrace alone was larger than her and Olivia’s living room and both bedrooms put together. She cautiously peered over the edge to watch the city below her. Her hair whipped around in the wind as she breathed in the hot, humid August air. Although she was afraid of heights, Emily found the stillness, the assurance of solitude, and the lack of people that high up to be a calming force in that moment. The serenity of being outside alone was short-lived when Natasha strolled out of the French doors.
“It’s, like, completely breathtaking out here, isn’t it?” She joined Emily and handed her a glass of ice water.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the drink. “It truly is beautiful up here.” She studied Natasha’s strapless, skintight black tube dress. “So where are you from?”
“California,” she giggled.
“Really?” Emily mocked in shock. “I would’ve never guessed.”
Natasha kinked her head to the side, her long crimson hair blowing in the wind. “Like, I know right? People tell me that all the time.”
“I bet they do.”
The two women sat down on a plush outdoor couch. Natasha tucked her feet underneath her legs. “So, like, how long have you been dating Dillon?”
“We’ll be together a year next month.”
“That’s so sweet,” Natasha smiled. “He’s such a cutie, too.”
“Thanks. So how long have you and Gavin, uh…” Not sure how to ask the question, Emily brought the glass of water up to her lips and took a sip.
“Been fucking?”
Emily choked mid-swallow on her water.
“Oh God, are you okay?” Natasha asked concerned, placing her hand on Emily’s back.
“Yes, it…” She cleared her throat several times. “It went down the wrong pipe,” she said, pointing to her throat. “I’m alright now, thanks.”
“So, like, I was saying, let me see…” Natasha paused in thought and tapped her finger on her chin. “I met Gavin, like, two years ago when Blake Industries was running an ad campaign for a modeling company I worked for. We’re by no means in a serious relationship at all, but we’ve been fucking around off and on ever since. Like, when he calls me, I come,” she giggled again. “And I mean, literally. God, do I come. That man knows what he’s doing in the sack. Like, the best I’ve ever had—no joke. And those lips and tongue…they are so, like, not only good for kissing. I mean, when he goes down and—”
“It feels like it just got hotter out here, right?” Emily interrupted and quickly stood up. She started fanning her face with her hand. “Yeah, it definitely feels hotter out here.”
Natasha furrowed her brows. “Hmm, I don’t feel it.”
“I do. I’m going to go back inside to hang out in the air conditioning.”
“Oh, okay, like, I’ll join you,” Natasha exclaimed, hopping up a little too eagerly.
Please don’t…
Walking into the penthouse, Emily found Dillon sitting on the leather couch.
“You alright, babe?” he asked. “You look pale.”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” She walked over to him. “I need to use the bathroom before we leave.”
Natasha pouted her lips and slumped into a chair next to Dillon. “Oh, no. I was, like, hoping we could all go get some lunch together. There’s, like, this posh little Greek restaurant that opened up, and I’m so wanting to try it out.”
“That sounds good to me.” Dillon rose to his feet and walked into the kitchen to grab another beer. “I’m actually starving.”
“Dillon, we’re supposed to go shopping, remember?”
“We’ll go afterward. Fifth Avenue will still be there when we’re done,” he replied, sliding open his phone to call someone.
Emily stared at him, her eyes fuming as he started his conversation with the person on the other end.
“Oh goody!” Natasha clapped her hands.
Gavin walked into the living room, still lounging in his pajama pants. He started massaging Natasha’s shoulders from behind her. “What are you clapping for?”
“She’s, like, really excited because we’re all, like, going out to lunch together.” Emily shot him a wicked smile, her eyes narrowing on him. “So, like, I need to use your bathroom before we go. Can you, like, tell me which one of these halls I need to go down to get to it?”
Natasha beamed a smile from ear to ear.
The corner of Gavin’s mouth turned up. “It’s, like, at the end of that hall, last door on your right.” Pointing down the hall, he tried to stifle a laugh.
Without a backward glance, Emily headed in the direction he pointed. She shut the bathroom door behind her.
“Un-fucking-real,” she murmured to herself as she studied her reflection in the mirror.
After taking a few minutes to grasp the fact that she was about to spend her afternoon in a very uncomfortable situation, she emerged from the bathroom and found Gavin casually leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed. She could hear Dillon and Cali-Girl laughing in the other room, but the conversation was inaudible.
“You find this whole thing funny, don’t you?” she asked.
Smiling, he stepped closer. “You don’t?”
She stepped back. “Not as funny as I think you find it.”
Undeterred, Gavin stepped closer still. “We’re pals, remember?”
Not saying a word, she took another step back, only to find she was now against the wall with her sweaty palms pressed against the cool surface.
He propped his hand just above her shoulder, angling his head to the side as he ducked down to stare into her eyes. “It’s just lunch,” he said, his voice low, seductive even. “Friends have lunch together all the time.”
Closing her eyes, Emily tried to concentrate on the distant echoing of Dillon’s voice in the other room, but Gavin’s sweet breath so close to her was making it difficult. Goosebumps erupted all over her skin.
“You’re fucked up,” she breathed, her heart ricocheting in her chest so hard she swore he could see it.
“You think so?”
Swallowing hard, she opened her eyes and nodded.
He caught his bottom lip, dragging it slowly between his teeth. “Then, can I make a confession since I seem to be a pretty fucked-up guy to you?”
The husky sound of his voice made a fresh round of butterflies explode within her stomach.
Another speechless nod.
Softly running his fingertips down her bare arm, he slipped a bottle cap into her hand. He leaned in inches from her ear, his voice nothing but a whisper. “I completely forgot to give you this when you walked in.”
Smiling, he backed away and walked into his room, closing the door behind him.
Emily let out the breath she was holding, trying to restore her jumping pulse to a normal rhythm. A knot swelled in her throat. After shoving the damn bottle cap into her purse, she made her way back into the living room and sat on the couch next to Dillon. Over the next fifteen minutes, while waiting for Gavin to get ready, she endured Natasha’s mind-numbingly detailed explanation of her recent plastic surgery endeavor to lift her ass higher. Even though Natasha seemed to be a nice, slightly confused girl, by the time Gavin walked into the living room, Emily was more than happy to get the hell out of there.