by M. S. Parker
“No.” He slid his arm around my waist and kissed my temple. “I do.”
Of course Gavin lived here. Why hadn’t I thought that? I tried not to look like a gawking schoolgirl as I followed him inside. By the time we reached his top-floor suite, I was feeling overwhelmed. I waited for him to open the door so we could go inside, but instead, he turned towards a different door.
“Let’s go up the stairs.”
“Okay.” Now I really had no clue what was going on. I’d thought he’d brought me to his place to show it to me. We’d order in, and after we’d eaten, we’d head to his bedroom. The roof hadn’t factored into my thoughts at all.
A warm breeze caressed my skin as I stepped out onto the roof. I caught my breath. At first, all I could see was the view. The sun was just sinking below the horizon, casting pinks and purples across the Manhattan skyline. I couldn’t hear the noises of the city, and the silence took me out of that space, making me feel more like I was looking at a vast painting. It looked almost too beautiful to be real.
“Just wait until it gets dark. It’s even more amazing.” Gavin pressed his lips against my ear.
I nodded mutely. I could only imagine what that would be like.
Gavin’s hand on the small of my back nudged me forward, and that’s when I saw the rest. Just a few feet away was a small, intimate table. Surrounding it were candles, some on the ground, some in tall holders. Once the sun was gone completely, they and the lights of the city would be the only things to see by.
“Welcome.” A tall, thin man in a sharp black tux gave a little bow, and it was all I could do not to laugh. Not because it was funny, but because I was suddenly nervous.
Gavin pulled out my chair and I sat. Once he settled across from me, he leaned across the table and took my hand. “I hope you don’t mind eating here instead of in a restaurant.”
“Are you kidding me?” I gestured around us. “This is perfect.”
The waiter returned with wine and poured us both a glass. I took a sip and made a sound of approval. I was far from a wine snob, but I could tell this was quality stuff.
“I wanted to take you to Le Petit,” Gavin said.
I almost choked on my wine. Le Petit was one of the priciest and most elegant restaurants in the city. That was where the old money of the city liked to dine because it cost far too much for even high-paid lawyers to afford.
The waiter came back with two small bowls of soup, placing one in front of each of us before vanishing into the rapidly falling shadows.
“Did you know that the waiting list for a table is six months?” he asked as he took a taste of the soup. “And that was with me using some of my biggest connections.”
I wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but I had no problem listening while I ate. The soup was amazing.
“But they do have some of the best food in the world,” he continued. “So I figured out a way to get what I wanted.”
I remembered how he’d told me that when he wanted something, he obsessed over it until he got it.
“I talked to the chef and convinced him to make us a three-course dinner of his speciality entrée.”
Wow. I set my spoon down in my bowl. That was impressive. I didn’t know of anyone else who would dare ask a top chef at a world-famous restaurant to make a three-course meal for a date. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I was starting to be a bit overwhelmed by the lengths to which Gavin was going for me.
“What’s next?” I joked. “Three guys with violins to serenade us while we eat?”
A combination of horror and astonishment came over Gavin’s face. “You don’t want that?”
I laughed as he played along with my joke. The amusement only lasted a few seconds as I realized he wasn’t joking.
He called over his shoulder. “Hold the trio.” His cheeks were red and he couldn’t meet my gaze.
Now I felt awful. He’d gone to all this trouble and I’d made it into a joke. “No,” I said. I reached out and put my hand over his. He looked at me then. I smiled. “Music would be nice. Thank you.”
He gave me that shy smile, the one that didn’t have any of his charm or swagger, the one that I hoped was only for me. He waved a hand back towards the door we’d come through. A moment later, three men in tuxedos appeared, carrying violins. They began to play a soft piece of classical music. It was vaguely familiar but I didn’t know the name.
“I know it’s tacky,” he said. He still looked a bit sheepish and I knew that was my fault. “But I just thought, what if you expected it and I didn’t have it? I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
I swallowed hard. I released his hand and leaned forward enough so that I could place my hand on his cheek. I made sure he could see how serious I was before I spoke. I needed him to believe me, because I needed that insecure look to leave his face. I hated that I put it there, and I wanted my words to take it away.
“You can never disappoint me.”
He smiled then, all shadows gone.
Chapter 9
I’d never eaten anything quite like that meal. For the most part, I found fancy restaurants to be overpriced and the food not worth the effort. This, however, would’ve been worth a six-month wait and whatever exorbitant price La Petit charged. I didn’t consider myself a foodie, but I did appreciate a good meal. The soup was just enough to whet the appetite, and then came the chicken in some fancy sauce I didn’t even have a name for. It was spiced just right, flavored but not overwhelming. The portions were perfect, enough to be filling, but still leaving room for dessert. And what a dessert it was. A thin slice of the richest chocolate cheesecake I’d ever eaten. Gavin and I split it, and even though half was barely three bites, it was perfect. Any more would’ve been too much.
“I need to remember to send a thank you to the chef,” Gavin said as he set his fork down on the empty plate. “That was magnificent.”
I nodded in agreement.
He turned to the trio of musicians. “Thank you, gentlemen. You have truly been wonderful.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out several folded-up bills. Judging by the way the lead musician’s eyes widened, I was willing to bet Gavin hadn’t handed over twenties. The men each gave a little bow and disappeared into the shadows.
“I’d like to show you my place, if you’re interested.” Gavin stood and held out a hand to me.
Was he kidding? Of course I wanted to see his place. I had so many questions about him, who he was, what he did. Any opportunity to see behind the man, I’d take. I slid my hand into his, shivering as his fingers closed around mine.
There was that too.
I didn’t doubt for a moment that part of seeing Gavin’s apartment would involve sex, and I wanted that almost as much as I wanted to know more about him.
He led me back downstairs, leaving our table for the waiter to clean up, or at least that’s what I assumed would happen. I wasn’t going to dwell on that, though. He’d arranged the date. It wasn’t my responsibility.
“I bought this place a year ago,” he said as he pressed his palm against the electronic pad next to the door. “But it took me a couple of months to get everything just the way I liked it.”
The red light next to the door turned green and I heard the lock click.
“Biometric locks.” He threw a grin over his shoulder. “The most secure ones in the business.” He opened the door and we stepped inside. “Lights.”
The room was immediately illuminated with the soft, warm glow of lights made to resemble candlelight. Finding out that Gavin had made his money developing software, and then seeing his security system, I fully expected the apartment to reflect an electronic, technological type of style, very much metal, and cold colors. Instead, I found a modern but cozy place decorated in warm earth tones. It was all very open, the main area containing the kitchen, dining room, and living room without walls to separate them. The main area alone was as big as my entire apartment, all rooms included, and I knew this wasn’t all there wa
s. I saw one hallway to the right and one to the left, but couldn’t tell what either one led to.
Something about the uniformity of the colors and furnishings told me that he hadn’t done the designing himself, but I could see where his personality had influenced the choices. Whoever had done the decorating had done well in reflecting the type of person Gavin was.
“Do you like it?” Gavin’s question was almost shy, as if my opinion of his home truly mattered to him.
I suddenly wondered how many women he’d brought here. It seemed like something more intimate than he’d show to someone he was just fucking. I smiled. “It’s beautiful.”
He beamed as he kicked off his shoes. I followed suit, letting my stockinged feet sink into the plush carpet. The feel was sensual, and I suddenly remembered what I was wearing beneath my work clothes.
“Shall we enjoy an after-dinner drink?” He led me over to the couch. “If it was cooler, I’d light a fire, but I think it’s too warm for that.” He looked down at me as I sat. “Unless you’re cold?”
I shook my head. I had heat running all over my skin. I was far from cold, but it had little to do with the weather. I looked around as Gavin headed for the kitchen. It wasn’t until I’d studied three of the pictures on top of the mantel above the fireplace that I realized something strange. There weren’t any personal pictures. None of him, of his daughter, or his fiancée. All the pictures were impersonal photographs or portraits. Still lifes, landscapes, that sort of thing. I could tell they were of things that he liked, but they still weren’t of people who meant anything to him. At least not as far as I’d looked. Not that I intended to go snooping. Maybe it was too painful for him to have the pictures always there, staring him in the face.
“Champagne?” Gavin held out a glass of bubbly golden liquid.
I took it and sipped. It was light and delicious, very similar to what we’d had at the club that first night together.
Gavin set down his drink on the glass coffee table in front of the couch, and slipped off his jacket. He draped it over the back of a nearby chair. When he untied his tie, I shifted in my seat, wondering how far he was going to go. He left the tie hanging, undone, and pulled his shirt from his pants.
“That’s better,” he said with a smile. He sat down next to me, not quite close enough for us to be touching, but at little enough distance that I could feel the heat from his skin. Though that might have just been my imagination.
I took a drink of champagne, letting it join the wine I’d already consumed. I was far from drunk, or even close to as tipsy as I’d been the first night Gavin and I had spent together, but the alcohol had taken enough of the edge off that my bold side felt like it could come out and play.
“I never did say thank you for your gift, did I?” My voice was low.
Gavin looked surprised. “You did.”
I set down my half-finished drink and stood. “Not the files.” I put my fingers on the top button of my blouse, and Gavin’s eyes followed. “Your other present.” I smiled. “Though I think it was just as much for you as it was for me.”
Gavin’s breathing quickened as I began to slowly unbutton my blouse. I made my movements deliberate, taking my time with each and every one. I didn’t pull the material aside, instead letting it hang open, exposing just a thin strip of pale flesh and crimson lace. When I reached the last button above my skirt, I untucked my blouse, enjoying the way Gavin’s eyes darkened at the quick flash of lingerie.
When I finished unbuttoning my shirt, I turned, then shrugged off the garment, letting it drop to the floor. I glanced over my shoulder at Gavin as I reached up and pulled out the clip that had been holding my hair up. The curls tumbled, hot and soft, over my shoulders. I shook them out, letting them fan across my bare skin until they hid most of my back from Gavin.
“Carrie,” he breathed my name.
I didn’t respond other than unsnapping my skirt and slowly lowering the zipper. I heard him make a sound as I let the skirt fall to the floor as well. The air was cool against my ass, reminding me that this was far skimpier than any panties I owned. I refused to be embarrassed. I’d seen what I looked like in this, and I let that image give me the courage to turn.
“Fuck.” The word came out strained.
I smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Gavin nodded. “You should.” He leaned forward. “I knew it would look good on you, but this is more than I’d imagined.”
I walked towards him, letting the lust in his eyes fuel the fire in my belly. When I was directly in front of his knees, he reached for me, but I shook my head. He looked puzzled, but dropped his hands. The moment I’d started undressing, I’d known what I wanted and I was going to have it.
I put my hands on his thighs, pushing them apart as I lowered myself to my knees. I could practically hear his pulse racing. I slid my hands up and down his thighs, loving the feel of his solid muscles beneath my palms.
There were two things I needed to know before I started, because they would determine just how far I got to go. I really hoped his answers would allow me to finish the way I wanted. I rarely had the guts to get this bold, and I wasn’t sure if I would again.
“Were you planning on this being a long night?” I asked as my fingers flexed on the upper part of his leg. “Or once you’ve gone, are we done?”
He blinked, surprised by my question. I didn’t think he’d quite figured out why I was asking, but that was okay. “Are you asking if I can go more than once tonight?”
I nodded.
He grinned. “I may need a little time to recover, but I plan on us spending a very long night together before we pass out.”
That was good. I reached for the waist of his pants. Here was the awkward question. There really wasn’t a good way to ask it, but I’d thought of something that would be at least tactful. It would also let me know if my fantasy about next week would be feasible.
I looked up at Gavin as I lowered his zipper. His eyes locked with mine as I tugged his pants lower on his hips, but I broke it to drop my gaze to the tight, black boxer-briefs he was wearing. The bulge told me that he’d been enjoying the show I’d put on, and that made me smile. I hooked my fingers under the elastic of the waistband and slowly pulled down his underwear.
My stomach and things even lower tightened as I revealed him. Black curls that were softer than they had any right to be. A base so thick that when he was fully aroused, I wouldn’t be able to wrap my hand around it completely. The impossible combination of hard and soft, like silk-covered iron.
He was only half-hard now, his shaft resting against his hip, and already he was nearly as big as my largest previous lover had been. When he was fully erect, he rode the border between holy-fuck-that’s-huge and there’s-no-way-that’ll-fit. Even after preparation, he was a tight fit. Without foreplay, he was too much, but I knew from experience just how good he could make even too much feel.
I ran my fingers over the hot flesh, smiling as it twitched beneath my touch. I wrapped my hand around him, and he was still soft enough that my fingers touched my thumb. My other hand moved between his legs to cup his balls, and he moaned. I worked him with my hands for a minute, feeling him swell and grow. Before he could get too big for me to be able to take much, I lowered my head.
He swore as my mouth engulfed him, taking almost all of him in that wet heat. My tongue swirled around him, the flavor of him bursting across my taste buds, mingling with the leftover chocolate and the more recent champagne. Gavin’s hand rested on my head, not pushing or even guiding, just brushing over my curls, his fingers twisting in them.
He was heavy on my tongue as I raised my head. My hand continued to stroke him, the motion nice and slow, keeping him at his full, impressive size. I looked up at Gavin and found his face flushed, his pupils blown wide. Now it was time to ask.
“Are there any reasons,” I started, “that I can’t finish this,” I flicked out my tongue across the tip of him, “bare?”
He stared at me, as if he wasn’t sure he understood what I was asking.
Okay, I was going to have to be blunt. “I want you to go in my mouth.”
“Shit.”
I continued, making my voice rhythmic, almost matching the pace my hand was using. “I want to feel you spurt across my tongue. Taste you. Swallow every last drop.”
Gavin shuddered, as if my words were working him up.
“Is there any reason why I can’t?” I hoped he was thinking clearly enough to understand that question at least.
He shook his head. “I’m clean.” His voice was hoarse. “Carrie, you’d don’t have to–”
“I know.” I smiled. “I want to.”
I lowered my head again, determined not to come up again until he was done. I released his balls and put my hand on his hip, a reminder for him not to thrust. My other hand remained wrapped around his base, working in a circular motion. I bobbed my head, hollowing out my cheeks every time I went up, the suction making Gavin writhe beneath me. His fingers twisted in my curls, sending little pinpricks of pain through my scalp, but I didn’t care. I wanted to feel him come apart beneath me, wanted to know that I’d done this to him with just my mouth and hands.
