I can’t help the shiver that wracks my body, his words slicing right through my skin and taking my nerves hostage.
“You have the most powerful words,” I tell him while stroking the silk piping on his lapels. “They threaten to drop me to my knees sometimes.”
“Then we’re even,” he says as he spins me around and dips me low. His face hovering over mine, he whispers for my ears only, “Just looking at you makes my knees weak.”
He lifts me up again and, as the last notes of the song fade away, gives me a lovely PDA kiss. I sigh. When he pulls back, I touch his face and ask with wonder, “How did I get so lucky to find you?”
Gavin smiles… with understanding, with sadness, and even a little touch of humility. “I’m the lucky one, Sweet. Nothing is ever going to be the same again.”
No, nothing will be the same. My body, for one, will never respond to another man the way it responds to Gavin. That’s not because of any special talent on his part, although he has talent in spades. His tongue for instance.
I won’t respond to another because my heart is tied up with Gavin now in a way that has never belonged to another man before. It’s been completely enslaved by him, and he alone has the power to cultivate or destroy it, but whatever he chooses, my life is on a different path now.
Gavin leads me off the dance floor by my hand. Halfway back to our table, I’m struck with sudden inspiration. Tugging on his hand, I get him to stop, and he looks at me with a smile.
Stepping in close, I rise up on my tiptoes and whisper to him, “I think I want to get filthy with you.”
His eyebrow cocks at me in amusement, and he leans in and kisses my nose. “You think or you know? Because I assured you I’d do you right tonight.”
“Not tonight… not later. Right now.”
Molten heat flares in Gavin’s eyes, and his hand squeezes mine reflexively… almost painfully. His voice is rough when he asks, “Right now?”
“Right this very minute,” I confirm.
Gavin spins on his foot and starts walking with large strides to the doors of the ballroom. I have to run to keep up with him, my one hand firmly grasped in his, the other holding up the long length of my dress so I don’t trip on it. He leads me out of the party, down a hall, and straight to the ladies’ bathroom. Pushing the door open, he strides right in, pulling me along, only have to have several women all wearing gowns and applying lipstick turn to look at him and gasp.
“Fuck,” he mutters and backs out, pushing me along.
He starts walking again, down another hall, randomly checking doors. One says, “Accounting,” another says “Food Services.” All locked.
I can feel the frustration rolling off him in waves, and I have to struggle not to giggle. Finally, he finds a door that says, “Service Staff Only” and pushes through. It leads to another corridor, this time paved with white tile rather than the sumptuously, deep carpeting in the public part of the hotel. On the third door he tries, which says “Janitorial Supplies,” he hits pay dirt, and the door swings open. He pushes me through and follows me inside.
The light comes on automatically, apparently by sensor, and I glance around in interest at row after row of metal shelving stocked with a variety of cleaning agents, paper products, and linens. Thankfully, there’s a lock on the door, which Gavin gives a quick turn, and the click causes me to turn and face him.
He smiles at me sinfully.
Then he’s on me.
In one large stride, he’s pushing me backward until my back hits against the far wall. He grabs fistfuls of my dress and drags it up, leaning sideways and back a bit to get a look at what I have on underneath. I know he’s pleased when his nostrils flare at the champagne-colored lace thong I bought to match the dress.
“Oh, Sweet,” he breathes out in a rush. “So fucking sweet.”
His hand comes down between my legs and fingers the edge of my panties. He strokes me softly, almost as if he’s considering his next move. My blood is on fire and the prospect that we’ve just left a party where Gavin is surely to be missed, and are in a supply closet in a major luxury hotel that is no doubt frequented by the staff, has me buzzing with nervous energy and lustful need.
“Um… baby. We’re kind of on short time… don’t you think we need to get at it?” I ask sweetly.
Gavin groans and slips his finger into my underwear. “Need to make sure you’re ready… that you can take me.”
When his finger slides into me, he finds that I am indeed ready, because just the prospect of what we are about to do was all the foreplay I needed. My hips flex hard against his hand, driving his finger in deeper.