Collide (Collide, #1)(12)
His eyes feasted upon her long auburn hair that spilled over her shoulders onto a tight black dress that fell just above her knees. The perfect amount of cleavage and neck burned a hole into his mind, awakening the undeniable primal urge he had to claim her. His eyes devoured her legs—sleek, long, and shapely—that came to a rest in black heels. Raking his hands through his hair, Gavin couldn’t help but feel the quickening in his heart as she approached.
He went to move toward her, talk to her, breathe in her scent, but a modest cough from Dillon reluctantly broke his gaze from hers.
“I see you looking, Blake, but she’s mine,” Dillon remarked, a crooked smile twisting his lips.
Gavin’s mouth fell open as if to speak, but nothing came out. His blue eyes swung over to the beautiful woman who had invaded his world a few days ago and then shifted back to Dillon.
“Wait, that’s…Emily?” Gavin asked, palpable confusion taking over his face.
“Yeah, man. I told you she was f*cking gorgeous.” Dillon motioned for Emily to hurry up where she seemed to be frozen and rooted in one spot a few feet away.
Gavin took a long pull from his beer, a lump forming in his throat as he leaned himself against the bar. Unable to look away, he maintained eye contact with the woman that his friend just proclaimed was his.
Chewing on her lip, Emily tried to keep her panic at bay when she saw Mr. Tall, Dark, and Fuckable Handsome with Dillon. The air seemed to shift thick. Her balance was knocked askew with every step.
There’s no way they could possibly know each other. This is Manhattan for Christ’s sake, Emily thought to herself.
Each beat of her heart pounded harder the closer she got. A curious yet boyish smile rounded Gavin’s lips as a kiss of a dimple indented itself on his cheek. His piercing blue eyes were intense, unblinking in her direction. Emily’s gaze flicked down to his chest, the planes of his pectorals visible under his shirt. If it were possible, he looked even more handsome, relaxed in his casual attire of a black, V-neck T-shirt and jeans that hung perfectly on his waist. His eyes seemed to delve into her and smother every bit of oxygen from her lungs. Taking a long cleansing breath with sweat beading on her brow, Emily approached the two men, trying to focus solely on Dillon.
Dillon pulled her by the waist into his body and placed an exaggerated kiss on her lips.
After ordering her a drink, Dillon shifted her in front of him, positioning her back against his chest. She had center view of the stranger when Dillon finally spoke. “Gavin, this is my girlfriend, Emily Cooper. Emily, Gavin Blake.”
Unable to pull his eyes from hers, Gavin reached down tentatively, drawing her hand to his lips. Kissing it softly, he hesitated, almost absorbing the heat that radiated from her skin. Reluctantly, he finally let go. “The pleasure’s most definitely all mine, Emily.”
Inwardly marveling at the way Gavin’s slight stubble felt against her knuckles, Emily gave a curt nod and smiled. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Dillon asked, looking over to Gavin.
Averting her gaze to the floor, Emily flushed, embarrassed by the comment. Nonetheless, she grinned, trying to regain her bearings from the shock coursing its way through her body.
Gavin’s gaze dropped to her mouth, her ruby red lips fascinating every f*cking inch of him. He shifted his eyes back to hers, which were a variation of green melting into gold. Beautiful, he thought to himself.
Drawing his lower lip roughly through his teeth, Gavin let his words hang. “You’re a very lucky man, Dillon.”
Dillon nodded in agreement, tossing back the last of his whiskey on the rocks. “Come dance with me, babe.” He caught Emily by her hips and dragged her out to the dance floor.
Knowing she shouldn’t, Emily risked a glance back to Gavin as they walked away.
Gavin tried to maintain his cool when she peered over her shoulder to look back at him. He watched the way Dillon held her close and the irrefutable loving way she responded to him. He watched the way she stared into Dillon’s eyes, giving him her undivided attention. Ordering another beer, Gavin fought back the urge to walk onto the dance floor, knock his friend out, and pull her into his arms.
As if his mind couldn’t register anyone else in the club, Gavin brushed off countless women who approached him. He knew he was in uncharted territory and that his thoughts were irrational, considering Dillon was a close friend, but he felt as if Emily had a sick pull on him. These new unknown surges of emotions had him at odds with his body and mind.
And Gavin didn’t like it one bit.
Eventually, Dillon walked up to Gavin when Emily disappeared into the restroom. He leaned against the bar, a reverent smile breaking out across his face. “Wishing you were me, buddy?”
Gavin couldn’t help feeling a stab of jealousy, but this wasn’t something he was about to confess. “I’m just wondering how you pulled that one off.”
It wasn’t a question but a statement on Gavin’s part. Dillon usually hung with crowds of women that were far wilder than Emily seemed to be.
Dillon threw his head back and laughed as he ordered a shot of tequila. “You seem to think you’re the only god in this city.”
“I’m no god, Dillon, and you’re certainly not either,” Gavin remarked, propping his arm on the rolled leather edge of the bar. “But I do know that you need to take care of a woman like that.”