Pulse - McHugh Gail - Страница 9

Gavin picked up his new glass and swirled the liquid, the fresh ice clinking against the sides. He cast a weary smile at Miguel, his tone void of any emotion as visions of Emily plowed through his senses. “Right. Money brings much happiness, Miguel.”

Miguel grinned and turned away, leaving demons of despair to torture Gavin. Buried just beneath the surface, a nearly insufferable pain latched onto his heart. Unwelcomed, flashes of Emily’s auburn hair tickling his face ran rampant through his mind. No longer in his grasp, the thought sucked the last vestiges of feeling from Gavin’s soul. As the mix of emotions ebbed with every unsteady breath he took, his pain gave way to anger. But try as he might, Gavin couldn’t escape her. Need for her tensed every muscle in his body as memories of them together clouded his thoughts, tripping and tumbling over each other.

With a wall of unease settling around him, Gavin lifted his head. His gaze caught the attention of the woman who’d sent him a drink. Her features were pleasant enough. Rich, wavy, shoulder-length red hair fell easily over the straps of her sundress. Gavin flicked his eyes across her slender physique as she stared at him, a timid grin taking over her mouth. Though he didn’t consider her a woman who would stick out in a crowd, her eyes and smile lit up her face, and Gavin found it hard to look away. He watched as she gracefully slid from the barstool.

She grabbed her drink, a clutch, and started making her way toward him. Eyes locked on hers, Gavin swallowed and listened to her heeled sandals clicking against the wooden deck. Before she closed their distance, the woman came to a stop. She tilted her head and studied his face as if asking if it was okay to join him. Gavin found her trepidation appealing. With a reluctant nod, he motioned to the seat across from him.

Smiling, she continued her pursuit and stepped down from the deck onto the patio lining the beach. As she pulled out a chair, she placed her drink and clutch onto the table, her hair blowing across her face with the warm breeze. When she brought her hand up to tuck the strands behind her ear, Gavin noticed her green eyes, their shade hauntingly familiar. Emotions swept over him as his mind desperately fought against thoughts of Emily.

“I can spot a man with a broken heart from a mile way,” the woman purred, sinking into the seat. She crossed her legs and took a long sip from her frozen beverage. She subtly leaned across the table. A seductive smile tipped the corner of her glossed lips, her gaze falling from Gavin’s face to his chest. After roaming over his upper body, she brought her eyes back to his. “What can I do to remedy this problem for you, Mr.…?”

Gavin leaned back and shook his head. “Not as shy as you appear,” he mumbled, reaching for his drink. “They do say looks can be deceiving. But it’s all good. I’m not as shy as I may appear.” Gavin chugged the rest of his drink, set his glass on the table, and flicked it with his thumb and middle finger. Its condensation allowed it to slide smoothly across the glass top, clinking against an ashtray. He rested his elbows on the table, smirked, and tented his fingers under his chin. “You want to remedy my problem? I’m intrigued, Miss…?”

The unnamed woman bit her lip and mimicked his pose. “One: I’m very happy you’re intrigued. That was my sole purpose in coming over here. I enjoy it when a man finds me intriguing. Two: No, I’m not as shy as I appear, honey. Far from it. Three: I never said you looked shy. Nothing about you screams shy, and for me, that’s a good thing.” She uncrossed her legs, slipped her heel off her right foot, and reached down to massage it. With the tilt of his head, Gavin watched soberly as she slowly ran her blood red nails from the bottom of her foot up to her calf. Repositioning herself in her chair, she tucked her shoeless foot under her ass and smiled. “Four: Yes, I’d like to remedy your problem in whatever way you see fit. I’m going through a tough time myself, so it’ll benefit us both. And, five: You never gave me your name, so why should I give you mine? It’s apparent I’m slightly older than you, so you really should respect your elders. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr.…?”

Without moving, a grin pulled at the side of Gavin’s mouth. “Gavin Blake.”

“Ahh, well then, Mr. Blake, whose heart has clearly been hurt, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m Miss Layton, but you can call me Jessica.” Staring into his eyes, she reached across the table, offering Gavin her hand. He took it and felt her fingers draw small circles on his palm. She hesitantly pulled back and pushed her breasts together. “So, who was she and why on earth would she break the heart of a man who looks as enticing as you do?”

With a nerve hit, Gavin cleared his throat and glanced past Jessica. He raised his hand for Miguel to bring them another round. He rolled his neck, leaned back, and tucked his hands into the pockets of his khaki cargo shorts. Face impassive and eyes pinned on hers, he cocked his head to the side. “Let me clarify a few things for you. Jessica’s your name, correct?”

Looking slightly thrown off by his question and tone, she nodded.

“Well, Jessica,” Gavin continued, “one: My life, and who used to be in it, is none of your business. Don’t ask me about it again. Two: You may think you can remedy my problem, but I’m pretty fucking sure you can’t. However, I’m more than sure I can fuck you into oblivion, remedying the recent tough times you’ve had right out of your mind. I might be younger than you, but you’re not my first walk in the park. Get where I’m going with this?”

Eyes wide, Jessica parted her lips but didn’t speak. She nodded again.

“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” Gavin handed his credit card to Miguel, who’d approached with their drinks. “Three: I’ve been around many intriguing women, so don’t take my statement as a compliment. I know how to flatter a woman better than telling her I find her under-sexed, crazed approach intriguing. Four: If you want to fuck, we can fuck. My house is a two-minute walk from here. But I’ll warn you now, that’s all it’ll be. Don’t expect a sleep over. I’ll fuck you, and fuck you very well, but I’ll send you on your way once our escapade is over. I won’t give you my number, and you’ll never enter my thoughts again. So now, Jessica…” Gavin cupped his chin, the crease of his brows showing he was trying to remember her last name.

“Layton,” Jessica answered, her voice cracking. “My last name’s Layton.”

“Ahh, that’s right. So now, Miss Jessica Layton, the ball’s in your court.” Gavin ran a hand through his hair and shot her a wink. Once again, Miguel approached the table with Gavin’s credit card. After shoving it back into his wallet, Gavin looked across the table at Jessica sitting speechless, her fingers rubbing up and down her neck. “Make the call, Jessica, because honestly, if we don’t do this,” he said with a light shrug, “I’ll just go back to my joint and milk my own dick.”

With shock twisting her face, Jessica stood, slipped her sandal back on, and reached for her clutch.

Assuming his curt response had scared her off, Gavin gave another shrug as his eyes landed on the family he was admiring earlier. He watched them make their way, hand in hand, over to a small, two-door clunk of shit. He knew his riches couldn’t compare to their happiness. He wanted that happiness. He wanted that clunk of shit.

“Well, are you ready?” Jessica asked, her voice laced with sexual urgency.

Gavin tore his attention from the fading dream and watched Jessica pluck his bourbon from his hands. She finished it in one long gulp. After placing the empty glass on the table, she brushed her fingertips across Gavin’s temple, down the side of his cheek, and over the curve of his jaw. Gavin momentarily stiffened, trying not to flinch at her touch. He rose and grabbed Jessica’s hand. His feet, as if they had a mind of their own, led them toward his place.