Pulse - McHugh Gail (книги онлайн TXT) 📗

Butterflies swarmed Emily’s stomach. “I’m sure it’d be more than fulfilling,” she replied, her eyes trained on the mouth she so desperately wanted to kiss. Giving in to the temptation, she edged up on her tiptoes and did just that. She lingered in the moment his lips melted over hers.

“Mmm, I take it you are feeling better,” he said, backing her out of the foyer and into the living room. Lips still locked, he slipped her purse from her shoulder and dropped it onto a moving box behind the couch. “But don’t think you’re getting off so easily. I have the whole doctor set up in my closet, complete with stethoscope and white thigh highs for those pretty legs.”

Emily reared her head back, curiosity swimming in her eyes. “Are you serious?”

“No, but I can make a quick run to Kiki De Montparnasse on Greene Street to pick out something naughty for you if you insist.”

Emily giggled. “Did you just speak French?”

Gavin smiled, his dimple deepening his cheek. “Yes… As a matter of fact, I speak it fluently. I have a very talented tongue.” He brushed his lips over hers, teasing lightly. “But that’s not something you wouldn’t know already. I love the thought of you in white thigh highs, but I have to admit I prefer you in black.”

“And here I was thinking you preferred me naked.” Another giggle as Gavin groaned. Tilting her head as he worked his lips against her neck, Emily noticed water about to bubble over a pot on the stove. “It’s boiling,” Emily breathed huskily. The sensation of his mouth caressing her collarbone sent pleasure up her spine.

“I’m sure it is. I’ve always had that effect on you.” Gavin’s voice vibrated over Emily’s skin as he started unbuttoning her blouse. “Remember, I do things to your body no one else can.”

Though utterly and completely turned on, Emily couldn’t help but bust out laughing. Gavin looked adorably confused, but in that moment, all of her nervousness hit her at once, and she couldn’t stop.

Brows drawn together, Gavin sent her a questioning stare. His hands fell away from her blouse as she continued her hysterics. “What?” His mouth quirked into a half smile. “I’m not a pro, but I thought they were pretty good lines.”

Emily placed her hand on his chest. “I was talking about the water on the stove. Do you really think I would use the word boiling to describe what you do to my body?”

Gavin blinked. “Is this an attempt to make me feel better? If so, you’re failing miserably.”

Emily playfully pursed her lips, threading her fingers through his hair. “Aw, did I bruise my man’s ego?”

“In more ways than one,” he admitted. Like fire, the raw hunger igniting his features devoured her. He leaned into her ear, his voice a slow whisper. “But don’t worry… my retaliation will be your wonderful undoing.”

His promise slid over Emily like silk. A shiver prickled her flesh as he feathered his mouth across her jaw, her muscles coiling, taut with desire. Wrapping his hand around her nape, Gavin crushed his lips against hers. Leaving her nearly breathless, he tangled his fingers in her hair, his kiss intense, and just as quickly backed away. As she tried to recover from the delicious blow of his overly skilled tactics, Emily heard him stifling a laugh. He wandered into the kitchen. Half in a daze, she slumped onto the leather couch, slipped off her heels, and discarded them on the marble floor.

“Emily,” Gavin called.

Still dizzy, she swallowed and took a deep breath. “Gavin.”

“I just made your body boil, sweets,” he pointed out with a raised brow and a smirk. “Would it be safe to say I’ll achieve the same results once I have your naked body pinned beneath mine tonight?”

Knowing the man staring at her was nothing short of enthralling, exhilarating, powerful, and all-consuming, Emily found herself simply nodding. His words wiped her clear of her own. He grinned that sexy grin that’d caught her off guard from day one and made his way into the kitchen.

He opened a box of pasta and tossed the noodles into the pot of water. Steam drifted up, wreathing around him. He flipped on another burner, drizzled a touch of olive oil into a pan, and layered a few pieces of chicken breast coated with flour into it. After washing his hands, he grabbed two plates from the cabinet. Sitting back, Emily took in the way he maneuvered around the space with ease. He had this shit down. A real life Emeril, but one who was completely hot and undoubtedly worked out. Considering he sat behind a desk all day, there was no other way his body stayed magnificently in shape. Her eyes traced the faded jeans hanging perfectly over his trim waist. She watched soberly as his muscles flexed with every movement underneath a black T-shirt. He was so casual, yet so powerful. She wondered if he knew it.

Since her extent of cooking knowledge went no further than ramen noodles or a box of mac and cheese, Emily knew she had some catching up to do in the cooking department. Considering Gavin had a private chef prepare most of his meals, she found it amusing he even knew what he was doing. However, this wouldn’t be the first time something Gavin did or said shocked her. A warm feeling of comfort spilled through her. Dillon had never cooked for them. They’d always gone out to dinner. Not that she didn’t enjoy being spoiled to some extent, but she loved the small things Gavin did. Somehow, as she watched Gavin pull out a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator and pour them both a glass, she knew he was going to fill her life with countless small things that would equate to more than anything any other man would ever give her. For a brief second, she smiled. Then the reality of what the evening would consist of attacked her nerves again. She cringed, regretting that she’d lied to him. Swallowing, she took a deep breath and rose to her feet.

She moved into the kitchen and came up behind Gavin at the stove. She circled her arms around his waist, stood on her tiptoes, and perched her chin on his shoulder. “I didn’t know you cooked. You keep getting sexier and sexier.”

At that, he chuckled. “Wait. I thought I was shmexy?” He forked a piece of pasta out of the pot and reached back to feed it to Emily.

She took it into her mouth. “Shmexy?” she asked, chewing and clearly confused. “Is that your take on the word?”

Turning, Gavin lifted a brow, amusement in his eyes. “No, doll. It’s yours after you’ve had too much to drink.” He placed a kiss on the crown of her head. “And I think it’s very shmexy.”

She stared up at him and smiled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’m just gonna go with it.”

“Smart woman,” he said, the corner of his mouth crooked upward. “Go take a seat, shmexy. Everything should be ready in a minute.”

“Shmexy.” Emily laughed. “Well, what can I help you with, Mr. Shmexy?”

“Bring this to the table.” Gavin plucked a basket of garlic bread from the counter.

“That’s it?” she asked. Walking away, she set it on the table. “There’s nothing else I can do for you?”

Grinning, Gavin leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “How can you make such a simple, innocent question sound so sexual?”

Wearing a grin of her own, Emily placed her hands on her hips. “Maybe it’s a gift?”

Gavin bit his lip and moved toward her. Standing inches from her body, he whispered in her ear, “Can I unwrap it, then?”

Emily drew in a shuddering breath at the feel of his soft voice so close to her. “We have to eat first.”

“See? You just did it again, Miss Cooper.” He lifted his hand to her neck. Massaging his fingers into her hair, his eyes glassed over with a want Emily couldn’t mistake. “You know I love eating… dessert.”

Heat curled through Emily, settling in her stomach. God, he made himself nearly irresistible. Blowing out the breath she was holding, she shook her head. “You, sir, need to learn how to control yourself.” Trying to exercise her own self-control, but more concerned about the dramatic turn the conversation was about to take, Emily backed away and settled into her chair.