Pulse - McHugh Gail - Страница 61
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He gently reached for her other thigh, repeating the process of bringing it up over his waist. He could feel her legs begin to shake in anticipation. Opened wide for him, he stared at her for a beat before lowering himself inside her. Hot, slick, and clenching around him with maddening fury, her pussy felt amazing. He contained his groan, basking in the sound of her soft gasp. A fleeting rush of fear shot through him as he slowly pushed deeper, but he kicked it back to where it belonged. Sinking his lips to hers, Gavin licked through her mouth, savoring the taste of her sugar coated sweetness. Cradling the back of her head with one hand, he cupped the gracious curve of her hip with the other. “Do you need me to tell you how badly I’ve craved you?” He groaned as he lapped, swirled, and laved his tongue against the delicate flesh of her neck. “I’ve needed you more than my next heart beat.”
Undulating currents of rapture coursed through Emily’s limbs as she writhed beneath him. His voice, the timbre of a man apologizing, rumbled low in her ear. His biceps clenched and flexed with each slow, calculated thrust. She was dissolving, thawing under his heat. Dragging her nails along his muscular back, her breath caught in her chest, lodged between his warm lips and seductive words. His desire for her was evident in every soft touch and stroke of his worshipping tongue. Back bowing, she bucked her hips faster, but Gavin completely stilled.
“Gavin, don’t stop,” she begged, her thighs clenching with vigor around his waist. “Please.”
“No,” he said in a strangled whisper. He stroked the dampened hair from her face and rolled his tongue over hers, talking between each heated breath. “I’m not fucking you tonight, Emily Cooper. Kill me if you want, but I’m going to slowly possess you until you can’t take it anymore. My fingers are going to trace every beautiful hidden line on your body. My lips are going to caress, nourish, and feed every unsated inch of you. Is that okay?”
“Yes,” she moaned.
He claimed her mouth, swallowing each moan that followed as he pushed into the soft depths of her wet, luscious warmth over and over. He filled her with the purest, sweetest, most beautiful love she’d ever experienced. His slow, agonizing pulses and deep, passionate kisses trumped anything she’d ever felt, tasted, or known. Feeding her body what it needed, Gavin wiped her mind clear of ever thinking he didn’t want her.
He tossed away every insecurity…
Unraveled every doubt…
And carried her away in the eddying winds of his undeniable, unquestionable love…
Emily nervously bit her lip and swiped her fingers through a pregnancy magazine. Trying to ignore Dillon staring at her intently from across the doctor’s office, she crossed her legs and glanced at her watch. A quarter past four. Gavin was fifteen minutes late. Anxiously, she pulled her phone from her purse, hoping there was at least a message from him. Nothing. Not a text or a missed call. She tossed it onto her lap, wondering where he was.
“Kind of sick your loving boyfriend’s not here yet.” Dillon chuckled. “Wonder if he’ll be late during the delivery? Call me if you need a backup.”
Ignoring him, Emily turned the page and scanned an ad claiming beet juice helped prevent neural tube defects in a developing fetus. Mental note made, she flicked her eyes to her watch again. She was starting to worry. It wasn’t like Gavin not to call if he was running late. A jolt of fear shocked her system, but as soon as it did, Blondie from her previous appointment called Emily’s name. After placing the magazine down, Emily ran her fingers over her cell, sending Gavin a text. She shoved her phone into her purse, stood, and started for the door to the back offices. She noticed Dillon also rose to his feet, following right behind her. She whipped around, a chill running up her spine at his proximity. “What are you doing?”
He narrowed his eyes. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to see if we’re having a boy or a girl.”
Emily blinked, cringing at his words. “You’re not going into the office with me until Gavin gets here.”
With a jeering smile, Dillon pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket. He handed it to Emily. “That’s a copy of the amended order of protection you took care of. Nothing in there says I have to wait until pretty boy gets here.” He swiped it from Emily. “Looks like you may have forgotten to add a little something to it.” He shoved it back into his pocket and held open the door. “Ladies first.”
Emily closed her eyes with regret. Head caught in a train wreck, she’d never thought about adding that particular stipulation to the order. Gavin had been on pins and needles for several weeks, and he must have been too stressed to notice her error. On a sigh and a prayer Gavin would be there soon, she followed the receptionist into an empty office.
Blondie’s displeasure with Emily was evident as she set up the necessary items for the visit. Once Emily and Gavin had found out the insurance billing error was her fault, Gavin called the office to vehemently voice his displeasure. After nearly getting his lawyers involved to file a lawsuit, Gavin wanted Emily to change offices, but since the doctor already knew their awkward situation, Emily felt it best to just leave it alone. She was more than satisfied that Blondie was reprimanded.
“You know the drill. Pants down below your pubic bone.” Blondie flipped on the sonogram machine, clicked off the lights, and moved toward the door. “Doctor Richards is finishing up with another patient. He’ll be right in. In the meantime, you can’t use the restroom.” With that, she and her attitude walked out.
Emily sat on the edge of the table with her back to Dillon. Hands shaking, she slightly lowered the soft, stretchy cotton covering her belly. She glanced at the door, willing Gavin to open it. In the quiet room, Dillon’s breathing sounded like a tornado whirling through her ears. Deciding to wait for either the doctor or Gavin, she stilled her movements.
“You let me fuck you for over a year. Now’s not the time to start getting embarrassed.” Emily heard the smile in Dillon’s words, felt the venom lacing them. “Don’t worry. There’s no way what you look like right now could ever turn me on.”
“You’re an asshole,” she mumbled, her heart pounding.
He chuckled. “And you’re the whore who landed us all in this position. What’s worse, Emily? A whore who fucks her boyfriend’s friend or an asshole who’s making her pay for it?”
As his sickening statement crushed through her head, the door swung open. Gavin and the doctor entered from the hall. Crossing the room rapidly, Gavin was at her side in a second, his face twisted in worry. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as Emily stood and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“What happened?” she asked. She breathed in his scent, automatically calmed by his presence. She looked into his eyes, trying to keep tears from her own. “I sent you a text. You never called back.”
“I left my phone at the office and didn’t realize it until I was halfway through the city. I got caught in traffic. It was a mess.” He looked at Emily’s face, picking up that she was worried about more than his absence. Something else was there. His stomach surged, twisting with anger. He flicked his eyes to Dillon, then back to Emily. “Is everything all right?”
Emily felt him freeze as though he’d suddenly been encased in ice. She swallowed, a knot swelling in her throat. She nodded, not wanting to tell him what’d happened. Gavin was already on edge. If he thought Dillon gave her even the tiniest of dirty looks, without a doubt, there would be bloodshed in that office.
“Nothing happened?” he asked more intently, staring between her and Dillon. From the chair across the room, Dillon peered at them.
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