Letting out a sigh, Gavin smiled and handed Emily a towel. “She’s a…difficult one, my sister-in-law.”
“She seems nice though.” Emily accepted the towel from him as she tried to drag her gaze away from his tattoo that was now wet and glistening in the sunlight. Blowing out a breath, she swallowed hard and refocused her eyes back on his face. “I find it funny that everyone’s trying to get you hooked up with someone.”
“Yeah, tell me about. They have this odd thing about me being single right now.”
As Emily was about to ask him if he really wanted her to call some friends for him, Dillon snaked his arms around her waist from behind and kissed her neck. Surprised, she jumped and laughed at her sudden shock. The rest of the anglers strolled into the backyard looking sunburned, tired, and just a tad intoxicated. After some light conversation regarding the amount of fish that each man caught and a little more teasing of Gavin not being able to attend, the group dispersed as everyone went to take showers.
“So you went swimming I see,” Dillon remarked, peeling the shirt from his body as he and Emily entered their room. Closing the door behind him, he shed the rest of his clothing and tossed them into a pile.
“Very good observation,” she laughed.
Dillon walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and got in. “I hope you kept the body that belongs to me covered up around my friend,” he called out.
Emily rolled her eyes and searched her bag for a particular red gauzy sundress that she’d brought along. It was one that her mother had purchased for her on their last trip to see her sister in California. She smiled when she found it, holding it up against her body as she looked into the mirror.
“You’re not answering me, Emily. Did you cover yourself up?”
Walking into the bathroom, she let out a frustrated sigh. “Dillon, what do you see right now?” she asked, motioning her hand over her body, her voice a touch irritated by his question. It was clear to her that she wasn’t baring too much skin.
“What do I see right now? I see my hot girlfriend’s ass hanging out from beneath her college T-shirt. So why don’t you get in the shower and give your man what he needs?”
“You think I’m having sex with you right now?” she asked, her eyes bulging. “There’s a shitload of people downstairs.”
“Get in the shower, Emily,” he commanded simply.
“What the hell’s wrong with you, Dillon? I said no.”
“Come on, Em. It’s just hard for me to see you looking like that and not want to fuck around,” he calmly replied as he got out of the shower. He walked over to where she was leaning against the vanity. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you while I was gone.”
Pressing his body against hers, he quickly dipped his hand into her bikini bottom, making sure to slide his fingers inside her.
A faint moan escaped her lips as she tried to push him away.
“See, you like that.” His voice notched down huskily as he grazed his lips over hers. Sliding his fingers in and out, he used his other hand to glide her bikini bottom down past her thighs. “This pussy’s mine. No one else’s, Emily. Mine,” he groaned against her cheek.
As she pushed him away again, a knock came at the bedroom door. Shooting Emily a hard glare, Dillon yanked a towel from the rack, tossed it around his waist, and leisurely strolled over to answer it. It was Trevor, letting him know that a potential client eager to speak with him regarding a commodities plan was downstairs. Within five minutes, Dillon was dressed and out the door to go talk business. Emily was left alone in the room, wondering what the man—whom she desperately loved—was really morphing into.
By the time Emily calmed her nerves, showered, and got ready, it was a quarter past seven, and the party was in full swing. True to Dillon’s words, there had to have been at least 150 people scattered throughout the property. She wove through the crowd of unrecognizable faces as she searched for him. When she couldn’t find him among the masses, she took a seat at one of the bars set up on the patio.
After downing a shot of tequila, a slight pang of guilt for not giving Dillon the little he had asked from her hit the pit of her stomach. He’d emotionally taken care of her through the most difficult time in her life, constantly complimented her on a daily basis—whether it be about her physical or educational attributes—and made her want for nothing financially. Sex in someone’s home—be it crowded or not—shouldn’t have been an issue in her mind.
Before the shortcomings she felt about herself regarding their relationship cut deeper into her heart, Emily caught a glimpse of Gavin from across the pool, talking with a group of women. As he made conversation with them, he used his hands in intimate ways—a slight touch on the nape of the neck to get their attention, a casual brush on the arm as they spoke, or a light press against the small of the back when he would laugh—and the women fell all over themselves when he did. Emily swallowed hard when he glanced in her direction, essentially catching her staring at him. She watched him excuse himself from the eager wannabe-future-Mrs.-Gavin-Blake group as he made his way toward her.
Casually dressed in a white linen shirt and khaki shorts, he approached her with a smile and leaned against the bar. “I find it impossible that a woman as beautiful as you look this evening is sitting here alone.”
Without missing a beat, Emily laughed. “You’re truly a connoisseur of knowing what to say and do to women.”