CHAPTER FIFTY
Gavin and I ride back to his apartment from the restaurant with our fingers linked, well fed and just a little bit buzzed. He asks me to stay over at his place tonight, and I like him even more for this shy request.
He asks what I’m doing this weekend and when he finds out I’ve got four days off he’s ecstatic, immediately launching into ideas of what we can do in New York over the holiday weekend.
But he sees my hesitation and prods me to admit that I’m torn—I would love to go to Oregon to see my mom, but the last-minute tickets are expensive.
“Have you ever been on a private jet before?” he asks.
“Oh, yeah, hundreds of times. It’s, like, so boring.”
Gavin laughs and tickles me, forcing me to admit the truth—the only time I’ve flown in an airplane since my dad died was the commercial flight to New York.
“Would you take me to Oregon with you? I could get us a private flight.”
“You really want to go?”
Gavin takes my hand to help me out of the town car and leads me to his apartment. “Are you kidding? After the way you described it, I’m ready to move there.”
We hold hands and say goodnight to Charles as we pass him. He returns our smiles with a huge grin.
“Right,” I say.
“OK, not really. Not with the band here in New York. But I’d love to visit. Are you OK with introducing me to your mom?”
I tell him I will, and then ask if we can bring Dan with us on the flight. I explain that he and my mom are rekindling a relationship from long ago.
“If Dan comes, I probably can’t get away with doing naughty things to you on the flight, huh?”
“I think that would be too weird,” I say. “But don’t worry. We’ll go to the beach or the mountains. I promise we’ll get plenty of quality time alone.”
“Then we’re on.” Gavin unlocks his apartment and Jasper baroos a greeting. He closes the door and immediately presses me up against it, his mouth hot and hard against mine, his hands tracing every curve of the saucy black dress.
“Oh, we’re most definitely on.”
I wrap my legs around Gavin’s hips and let him carry me to the living room, where he peels my dress off me, inch by inch, planting a kiss on each part of me as my skin is bared to him.
I feel his unhurried hands trace my curves, slower and more reverent this time. I watch as his black-on-black shirt and distressed jeans hit the floor, followed by my bra and panties. Gavin pulls me down on the couch and trails slow kisses across my collarbone where the beryl necklace hangs, then down my breasts and stomach.
I inhale sharply as his stubble tickles me. His kisses move lower and grow more fervent, teasing me and drawing out sensations that make me forget where I am, the sounds of the city below, and how I’m naked and exposed as he explores my body.
I can forget everything, except him.
“Gavin,” I say urgently, my head swimming as he coaxes a shower of sensations that race from my core to the tips of my fingers and toes. “I have to tell you.”
It’s the thing that I wanted to say when he gave me the necklace. I wanted to say it when he held me after we first made love. And it’s the thing I’ve known ever since the night he wrapped me in his shirt and his bed and comforted me the way no one else could, even from thousands of miles away.
“I—I’m crazy about you,” I finish lamely.
Gavin draws back, sitting on his heels, watching me intently. “Try again.”
“What?”
“What you were going to say? Before you chickened out?”
“I didn’t chicken—”
Before I can get the lie out, Gavin’s on top of me, growling, possessing me with a fiery passion that takes my breath away. “Don’t you dare run away from that, Beryl. You promised. If we’re going to run, we run toward each other.”
I struggle to catch my breath as Gavin drives into me, filling me, melting me with a scorching look. My body betrays me, clenching and shuddering as Gavin sends me flying. He paces his strokes to the spasms inside me, each time sending me further into the stratosphere.
“Tell me how you really feel, Beryl, but don’t tell me some half-truth. Don’t tell me you like me a lot when I feel so much more for you. Don’t tell me you’re just crazy about me when I love you like my life depends on it.”
And with that, Gavin’s plunge takes him over the edge with me, drawing an open-mouthed groan of pleasure that is so wild, so untamed, that I’m not sure if it’s him or me or both of us.
He collapses on me, panting and sated. I feel tears leaking out of the corners of my eyes, running down my cheeks. A tiny whimper escapes my mouth.
“I do, Gavin.”
He raises his head and looks in my eyes. I try to wipe away the tears and I rub my red nose on the back of my hand. I don’t sleep pretty and I don’t cry pretty, either.
“You do what?”
“I do love you, Gavin. I fell for you and I care about you and I’m crazy about you and I love you.”
“That’s the truth.”
“Every word.”