Before Emily could protest, Gavin was standing right in front of her. With the smell of his cologne tickling her nose and his eyes intent on her, she was sure she was going to pass out.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered, stepping closer. And, God, she did. Her wavy auburn hair falling over a white button-up blouse paired with a short red skirt and black knee-high leather boots had Gavin fighting for control. He was a fool to think he could’ve stayed away after what Olivia had told him, so this was his last ditch effort to get her back.
Swallowing hard, Emily stepped away from him, her back pressing against Olivia’s chest. “Why are you here?” she breathed out. She nervously tore her gaze from his, looking around for Dillon. “You have to leave.”
A sad smile tipped the corner of Gavin’s mouth, his voice low. “Well, I am in the wedding party. But I think it’s apparent why I’m really here.” He stepped closer. It was then that Emily could smell the liquor on his breath. “And, no, doll, I’m not leaving until we talk. Do you understand me?”
Shocked, she didn’t answer. In fact, she had no words at all. Emily simply stared at him.
Gavin flicked his eyes in Olivia’s direction. “You’ll keep an eye out for Dillon?”
Olivia nodded. “I checked on my way in. There’s an empty room over here,” she said, pointing to a door adjacent to them. “Make it quick though.”
Jerking herself away from Olivia, Emily narrowed her eyes. “You set this up?”
Olivia gave a casual shrug.
After pinning Olivia with a lethal look, Emily turned to Gavin. “I’m not talking to you,” she scoffed as she went to walk away.
He caught her by the elbow. “Then I guess you’re going to force me into making an announcement about the two of us right here at your party.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” she huffed, pulling her arm away from him.
“Mmm, that you’re incorrect about,” he chuckled as his body swayed. He turned his attention to an older man walking past them. “Excuse me, sir,” he called out, his voice booming.
The gray-haired gentleman—who thankfully wasn’t with Emily’s group—looked at him. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, sir. You see, I’m having a problem. I’m absolutely in love with this beautiful woman here,” Gavin said, pointing to Emily. Her eyes widened in disbelief at his actions. “And she won’t give me a few minutes to explain an extremely fucked-up misunderstanding. Would you have any suggestions as to how I should handle this?”
Appearing not at all in the least bit interested, the man shook his head and walked away.
“Fine,” Emily whispered, her tone heated. “I’m giving you two minutes.” Spinning on her heels, she abruptly pushed through the doors to the room.
Gavin looked to Olivia. “Keep him busy for as long as you can.”
She nodded.
Upon entering the empty banquet room, Gavin found Emily staring at him with her arms crossed in obvious annoyance. In the darkness of the space, lit only by the opulent moon beyond a massive window, he could see the roaring fire behind her green eyes. As he walked toward her, she backed away and nearly stumbled over a tower of stacked chairs.
“Don’t walk away from me, Emily,” he commanded, his voice low as he moved closer.
“Don’t you dare tell me what to do,” she spat with her chin tipped up in defiance. She continued to back away from him, the sound of her heels echoing throughout the room. She wanted to be impenetrable to his smell, his voice, and his face, but she knew the closer he got—under the cool gleam of those blue eyes—that would be impossible.
Undeterred, he continued his carnal pursuit until he had her backed against a table. Emily took a steeling breath as he slowly ran his hand over the curve of her jaw, up the side of her ear, where it ultimately came to a rest on the nape of her neck. Biting his lip, he bent his head and stared at her, their breathing both heavy.
“When I wanted to call, I didn’t, but I almost did. When I needed to see you, and Jesus Christ, I’ve needed to see you so fucking bad, I got in my car, and then I got back out,” he whispered, smoothing his free hand down the side of her waist. “Tell me you love me, Emily.”
“Fuck you,” she hissed, her chest rising and falling.
He smirked, coaxing her face closer so it was mere inches from his. “Those pretty lips are hiding a lie.” Gripping her waist tighter, he pulled her into his chest, the thrumming of their hearts colliding against one another’s. “You think you can just rid me from your thoughts? You can’t. You’re mine, Emily. Fucking mine,” he growled.
Emily didn’t think. She couldn’t. It was impossible. Before she knew it, she threw her arms around his neck and jerked him down to her mouth. With her hands white-knuckled in his hair, she moaned against his lips. This wasn’t a passionate kiss. No. This kiss brooked no room for argument, and it was just as much angry and possessive on both parts. Hot, sweltering, pent-up aggravation transferred from one to the other—yet, love was there as they both clung to each other. Lips still locked, Gavin picked her up off her feet and sat her on a table, spreading open her thighs while he pushed himself in between her legs. Emily tried to catch her breath as he grabbed the back of her knees and hooked her legs around his waist. The sweet taste of alcohol lingering in his mouth nearly intoxicated her. A deep groan rumbled in the back of Gavin’s throat as his tongue swept over hers. The harder Emily tugged at his hair, the harder Gavin kissed her. The harder he kissed her, the further she fell—forgetting where she was and who she was, forgetting space, forgetting time, and forgetting how he’d hurt her so.
“Tell me you love me,” he snarled, the words spoken into her mouth as his hand slipped under her skirt.
When he yanked her panties down, all Emily could concentrate on was the feeling of flames beginning to lick through her—and that feeling was threatening the last shreds of her self-control. His hand curved over her hot flesh. He slid two fingers into her syrupy wetness as his thumb circled her clit. Letting out a gasp, she tore her mouth from his, her arms clinging around his neck as her breathing flew past her lips, coming muffled into his shoulder. In all her anger, love, passion, and hurt, she bit down and sank her teeth into his skin. She wanted blood. She wanted him to hurt—wanted him to feel the same agony and pain she had felt every day since that devastating morning. Gavin groaned out, and with his free hand, he fisted the back of her hair and tilted her head up, her back now taut as a bow. His eyes bored into hers. With his breathing heavy and his fingers still sliding in and out of her, his mind drowned in the sound of her panting. He crushed his lips over hers again.
“If I could, I’d rip my heart out to show you how much I love you.” He brought his lips up, nipping at her ear, and she nearly came on his fingers. “Fuck, I miss you. I love you so much, and you’re killing me, Emily.”
“You bastard, you don’t love me. I hate you, Gavin. I hate you,” she cried out and tried to push him away.
He wouldn’t let her though. He snaked his arm around her lower back, pulling her to the very edge of the table, his fingers never stopping their delicious onslaught inside her pussy. Thrusting her hands back into his hair, a moan escaped Emily’s lips as her head fell back, exposing her neck in all its beauty. Gavin took the opportunity and buried his face against her collarbone. He traced a wet torrid line up her neck, nipping and sucking until his mouth was over hers again.
“I wish I could hate you—it’d be easier—but you have no idea how much I love you,” he breathed out, sucking in her bottom lip and gently biting it. “And that’s not hate you’re feeling for me. You love me, goddamn it. You’re mad at something that didn’t happen. Fucking hit me again. Fucking punch me if you need to, but stop saying you don’t love me because all you’re doing is lying to yourself. You’re tearing us apart.”
Still clinging to his hair, she pulled her lips away from his. They were both fighting for air as they burned holes into one another’s eyes. With one hand still buried in his hair, she smacked him in the face with the other, the sound reverberating throughout the room. At the same time, a moan left her mouth as she felt Gavin’s fingers slip out from inside her—her body left feeling torturously bereft by their absence.