Club Prive Book 4 (3 page)

I wasn’t sure what Gavin had planned for when I arrived in Miami, so I picked out the outfit I’d liked the best. A sheer pale green bra with matching panties went on first. Next was the mint green
maxidress
I’d found just before Krissy and I had finished shopping. It wasn’t fancy, but it hugged my curves and the hemline hit me mid-thigh. I felt comfortable moving in it, but a little edgy since I still had to be a bit careful sitting so I didn’t flash my underwear. I considered wearing heels, but decided I’d wear a pair of casual sandals. I wasn’t sure I could manage the steep stairs from the plane in any of these heels, and my work shoes didn’t match my outfit. If Gavin wanted to take me somewhere fancy, I could always change.

My heart was racing in anticipation as the plane taxied to a stop. I waited for the go-ahead and stood. I hoped I didn’t look as eager as I felt. I was halfway to the door when I realized I’d forgotten all of the clothes in the back. I turned and started to go back to the room.

“Ms. Summers, we’ll bring your luggage out to the car for you,” Robin said with a smile.

I nodded and turned back towards the exit, wondering if I’d ever get used to having people do things for me. Malcolm opened the door for me and stepped back so I could go through. I wasn’t sure if I should even be thinking about getting used to any of this. I didn’t doubt that Gavin cared about me, but I had this nagging fear that if I tried to think too far ahead, everything would collapse.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I was halfway down the stairs before I noticed that a limo was waiting. Of course. I took two more steps and realized that the man standing at the back door wasn’t a driver. It was Gavin.

It said something about how he looked in his tailored charcoal gray pants and fitted dark blue short-sleeved shirt that I didn’t even feel how warm and muggy it was. New York was still cool in the evenings, but Florida was already heading towards hot. Not that I cared. At the moment, all I could think about was how wonderfully Gavin’s clothes clung to his body and what he looked like without them.

“Ms. Summers.” Gavin gave me a grin, the heat in his eyes saying that he was thinking similar things about me.

“Mr. Manning.” I returned the smile. “You’re looking very nice this evening.”

His smile widened. “I think you stole my line.” He opened the door. “Though I was going to say beautiful rather than just ‘nice.’”

I looked up at him as I slid into the backseat. “Do you want me to tell you you’re beautiful?” There was a teasing note to my voice, but I saw something cross Gavin’s face that wasn’t humorous. He closed the door, leaving me wondering. He was so confident that it had never occurred to me that he might not fully appreciate just how gorgeous he was.

He opened the other door and slid in beside me, his expression back to the almost-cocky charm to which I was accustomed.

“You are, you know,” I said. When he raised an eyebrow in question, I leaned forward and let my fingertips lightly trace his jawline, then move up to his lips. “Beautiful,” I finished my thought.

He stared at me for a brief moment, then closed the rest of the distance, capturing my mouth with his. I made a sound that was a cross between a moan and a whimper as his tongue parted my lips. I leaned into him, my hands running over the soft fabric of his shirt, up over his broad shoulders to rest at the base of his neck. His hands slid down my back, then back up my sides, his thumbs brushing the sides of my breasts.

After a moment, he pulled back, his eyes bright. “I missed you.”

Warmth spread through my body. Three simple words.

The limo started to move and Gavin settled into a more traditional position in his seat. He reached for my hand as he spoke, “I have reservations for us at this amazing new restaurant. It’s not too fancy, but it’s got this great view of the ocean and the chef is supposed to be superb.”

I hadn’t been able to eat much for lunch, so I knew I should’ve been ready for a big meal, but I wasn’t hungry for food, no matter how well-prepared it was. I heard my friends in the back of my head, telling me to stop being a wimp and let Gavin know what I wanted. It didn’t take as much convincing as I’d thought it would for me to act on the advice.

“That sounds great,” I started as I disentangled my hand from his. A flash of hurt crossed his face and I realized that he thought I was angry about his plans. That look strengthened my resolve. I put my hand on his thigh and locked eyes. “But I’m not interested in a meal at the moment.”

“Oh really?” His voice was husky.

I slid my hand higher until my fingers brushed against the bulge in his pants. “I don’t know if I can keep my hands to myself through an entire dinner.” I moved my hand until I was cupping him. “You remember what happened at the gala when I tried?”

Gavin reached up behind my head and took out my clip, sending my hair falling over my shoulders. “I remember having to find somewhere to fuck you because I couldn’t control myself either.”

I lightly squeezed him and felt him swell under my touch. He made a small sound and grabbed my wrist, gently but firmly removing my hand from his crotch. Without releasing my wrist, he leaned forward and pressed a small white button.

“Change of plans,” he said. “Take us back to the hotel.”

“Yes, sir,” a man’s voice responded.

He leaned back again, then lifted my hand and kissed the palm before releasing it. I started to reach for him again, but he smiled and shook his head. “Patience.”

I stared at him. The man who’d been all over me on the way to the gala was telling me to be patient? Then I saw the twinkle in his eyes and realized he knew how much I wanted him and was enjoying making me wait. I tried glaring at him, but he just looked more amused. If I hadn’t been so annoyed, I would’ve thought it was cute. But I didn’t think it was cute. Not at all.

I kept telling myself that, until we pulled up in front of one of Miami’s most expensive luxury hotels. It was like something out of a movie, one of those places that look almost too beautiful to be real. The driver opened my door and held out a hand. I let him help me out as I stared up at the front of the building. Gavin climbed out and stood next to me for a moment before taking my arm.

“Shall we?” His voice revealed none of the sexual tension that had been so thick in the backseat of the limo.

We walked into the lobby and went straight for the elevators. I half-expected him to kiss me then, but he didn’t. He barely even looked my way. If I hadn’t been able to feel how tense his body was from where my arm was entwined with his, I’d have thought he was bored.

Of course we went to the penthouse suite. Part of me wondered if Gavin would’ve stayed here if I wasn’t with him, and that thought was quickly followed by my traitor brain thinking that perhaps this was where he brought all of the women he was trying to impress. As soon as we stepped inside, however, those thoughts were pushed to the back of my mind.

The suite was absolutely stunning. I wasn’t always the best judge of how many square feet a space had, but even I could tell that this was at least twice the size of my apartment. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the two outside walls, giving us an uninterrupted view of bright blue sky and the Miami skyline. The color scheme was black and white, with shades between, but it didn’t come across as cold. Everything matched, even the huge hot tub that sat in the corner where the two glass walls met.

“Wow,” I said.

Gavin chuckled. “I’m glad you like it.”

I glanced over at him and saw in his eyes what his voice didn’t say. He was relieved that I liked it, and that meant more to me than the suite itself. He wanted me to like it. If this was just some sort of routine he did with other women, he wouldn’t have cared so much. I reached for him, but he shook his head and took a step back, a smile playing on his lips.

“What now?” I sighed.

He made a
tsking
noise. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that patience is a virtue?”

I raised an eyebrow. “The man who owns a sex club and fucked me six ways from Sunday in an empty conference room is going to lecture me on virtue?”

He laughed, an open, freeing sound that automatically made me smile. “Touché,” he admitted. “But you still need to learn to wait.”

He walked over to what I now realized was a wet bar and pulled out a glass decanter of amber liquid. He poured himself half a glass, took a sip, and then turned back towards me. I felt the atmosphere shift and knew that something good was coming.

“I want to do something different tonight,” he said. “But you have to trust me.”

Familiar butterflies fluttered in my stomach, but I didn’t hesitate. “Okay.”

“For the rest of the night, I’m going to give you instructions, and I want you to follow them, no matter what.” He paused, as if waiting for me to protest. When I didn’t, he continued, “If you’re truly uncomfortable, just tell me and we’ll go back to something more... traditional. But, I believe if you let yourself go, you’ll find the experience to be quite... pleasant.” He took another sip of his drink.

I swallowed hard and tried not to let him see how nervous this idea made me. “Okay.” I answered with a single word because I wasn’t sure I could handle anything else.

He didn’t smile, but his eyes shone, telling me how pleased he was at my decision. “Go turn on the spa while I order room service.”

Okay, that wasn’t the first instruction I’d expected when I’d agreed to do whatever he asked of me. Still, I did it. By the time I’d figured out how the thing worked, he was off the phone and watching me. The water started heating up as I wondered what was coming next.

“I’ve noticed,” he said, “that you seem a bit self-conscious about your body.”

I blinked. That was blunt. Correct, but blunt.

“You have no need to be.” He sipped his drink and settled in one of the plush chairs that faced the spa. “And I want you to be comfortable in your own skin, not just when you’re alone, but when you’re with me.”

My hands were clasped behind my back, my fingers twisting together. Where was he going with this?

“Undress.”

I glanced towards the glass walls.

“We’re on the top floor, Carrie and the glass is tinted so no one could see you unless you were pressed right up against it, and maybe not even then.”

His tone took on the same authoritative note it’d had when he’d stopped me from touching myself when we had sex. It made me shiver in a good way.

“I want you to take off your clothes, slowly. This isn’t a striptease. I just want you to feel me watching you reveal yourself to me, inch by inch.”

My mouth was suddenly dry. That seemed more intimate than a lot of the other things we’d done. Still, I’d promised to do what he said. I reached up to the zipper and lowered it. Keeping my eyes down, I started to let the straps from the dress slide down my shoulders.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

I looked up, my eyes locking with his.

“Watch my face while I watch you.”