Pulse (Collide) (37 page)

Dillon straightened his tie and stood. His bright brown eyes mimicked his fake smile. “I plan on doing so. My family’s going to be stoked it’s a boy.”

Gavin felt every fucking hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He rose from his chair, preparing to break every single bone in Dillon’s face, but Emily grabbed his arm and pulled him back to her side.

After wiping the gel from her stomach, Emily sat up and licked her lips that’d gone dry. “We’re finished, correct?” Her breath slipped from her mouth shakily despite her attempted poise. “I can use the restroom now?”

The doctor nodded, and with the aid of Gavin, Emily hopped off the table. Staring into his eyes, she lifted her hand to the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “I love you, Gavin Blake,” she whispered after a long moment. “Thank you for not doing what I know you could’ve so easily done. You continue to shock me. You also continue to make me fall further in love with you. My heart, soul, life, and body, you own it all.”

God. Never did Gavin imagine such simple words could make
not
turning into a lunatic worth every second. But those simple words weren’t spoken by a simple woman. They were thanks from his angel. Yeah, she had a way of making every struggle they’d endured worth it. He watched with adoration as she disappeared into the restroom.

Gavin swiped his hand through his hair. “Doc, while Emily’s cleaning up, I wanted to speak with you in private regarding a few things.”

“That’s not a problem.” The doctor shut down the sonogram machine and flipped on the lights. “We can talk in the hall.”

“No way, Blake.” With arrogance seeping through his pores, Dillon stepped forward, his eyes narrowed. “This baby is just as much my business as it is yours. No private bullshit.”

Crossing his arms, Gavin cupped his chin. He cocked his head to the side, a slow smirk lifting his mouth. “You’re correct, Dillon. My bad.”
Bring it.
He was about to blow Dillon’s fucking mind to pieces. Relaxing into a chair, Gavin’s smirk widened. “So, Doc, you see my girlfriend’s a total catch. The woman brings a whole new meaning to the word beautiful, right?”

The doctor cleared his throat, appearing somewhat confused. “Yes, Gavin, she’s a very good-looking woman.”

A reverent smile broke out across Gavin’s face as he brought his attention to Dillon, who looked equally confused. Eyes pinned on Dillon’s, Gavin lifted a single brow. “Yeah, she is. Well, given she and I started out with an extremely active, at least four times a day, wild sex life, I wanted to know if it should change now that she’s pregnant. My concern lies in hurting her or the baby.”

Gavin could see Dillon grit his teeth and wondered why the asshole was still in the room. Gavin figured his curiosity had him sticking around.

“Not at all,” the doctor answered, depositing himself onto a swivel stool. “Sex is completely healthy and encouraged for both partners. The baby is protected deep within the womb. There’s no chance of you hurting him.”

At this, Gavin watched Dillon’s face pale, yet the moron was essentially super-glued to the floor, his movements completely stilled. Gavin figured he’d take the grand opportunity to elaborate a little. Better yet, Gavin was about to reel him in…

“That’s great to hear,” Gavin continued, his eyes still locked on Dillon’s. “But I have to be honest, I’m hung like a pro. Emily’s said I’m the largest…
man
she’s ever experienced. We enjoy making love, but usually, we really go at it. We both like it quite…
rough
. We love every position that’s out there. We’ve even invented a few we’re pretty sure no one’s ever thought of. We’re good like that. So, doc, what’s your overall consensus on the facts I’ve provided? Basically what I’m asking is… can we
fuck
the way we’ve always fucked? Because if so, I’m taking my girlfriend home after this and giving her what she wants.”

Baited. Hook. Line. And. Motherfucking. Sinker.

As the doctor went to answer, Dillon went to exit the room. Gavin chuckled, proud he’d hit his target dead on. Said target was giving him the reaction he knew he’d get. “Wait, Dillon, don’t you want to hear the answer? I mean, the baby is just as much your business as it is mine. Let’s not forget, no private bullshit.”

The doctor may have attempted to answer Gavin’s question, but Dillon didn’t. Nope. His answer was the thundering door slamming behind his arrogant ass. Another chuckle, a few unanswered questions, and Emily emerging from the restroom shortly after, had Gavin feeling the doctor’s appointment went better than expected.

By the time Emily and Gavin made their way back to his building and into the elevator, Emily was convinced her boyfriend had been possessed by a sex demon. Between the hungry looks during the drive home and his promises of exquisite pleasure to come, she believed he’d gone temporarily insane.

Leaning against the elevator wall, she indulged in his deep, passionate kiss as they rode up to his floor. Emily tilted her neck, allowing Gavin’s soft mouth to worship her flesh. “And who do I have to thank for this sudden change in sexual wanting? I’d like to send them a gift. Do you have an address?”

Gavin answered by closing his lips over Emily’s, caressing her tongue with needy little licks as his hands roamed her body. The elevator doors slid open, and with their arms wrapped around one another, Gavin walked her backward down the hall to his unit. Back pressed against his door, she let out a heated breath as he scrambled, fishing his keys from his pocket. His light stubble tickled her jaw as he opened the door. Walking her backward into the penthouse, his lips continued their assault on hers. Emily chucked her purse onto the sofa, circled her arms around Gavin’s neck, and giggled as he scooped her up. With her legs dangling over his forearm, she kissed him harder, her body throbbing from head to toe in anticipation.

“So are you going to answer me?” she breathed as he laid her on the massive California king, slipping off her heels. “Who do I owe thanks to?”

Grinning, Gavin slowly pulled her skirt down and tossed it on the floor. Blue eyes locked on hers, he bit his luscious lip, his finger tracing just below her belly button. “The only thing you need to know, Miss Cooper, is Dillon is very, and I mean
very,
aware of every single thing I’m about to do to your beautiful body.”

Without another question, Emily spent the rest of the afternoon indulging in the mind blowing things Dillon apparently knew were going to happen to her.

“Is the blindfold really necessary?” Emily asked as Gavin led her down the hall. “I get it’s a surprise, but your excitement is actually scaring me. Did you paint it black?”

“Have you no faith in my decorating skills?” Gavin asked with a chuckle. Opening the door to the nursery, he popped a smile as he took one last look at the finished room. He couldn’t call it
his
decorating skills since a team of highly paid interior designers did all the work. Nevertheless, he was happy with the direction he’d given them over the last month since finding out the baby was a boy. “And yes, the blindfold is needed. But I’ll strike up a deal with you. As my torturous punishment, I’ll allow you to reuse it on me later tonight.”

Emily giggled and went to rip off the blindfold, but Gavin grabbed her wrists. Lips turned down in a pout, she sighed. “You get off on being a wiseass. I swear you were placed in my world for that very reason.”

“Mmm, I never thought of it like that.” Gavin buried his face in the crook of her neck, his voice seductively low. “Placed on this earth to wiseass your world up.”

“Gavin Christopher Blake, if you don’t let me take off this blindfold, I’m going to do things to your ass no man would appreciate. Got it?”

Gavin let out a deep, throaty laugh, his eyes wide. “You’re turning me on.”

“Oh my God. You
seriously
—”

“I know. Have lost my mind or
seriously
have gone crazy.” Gavin nibbled her neck. “Which is it, sweets?”

“Both.”

“Good answer.” He peeled the blindfold from her eyes. “Tell me. Did I lose my mind on this?”

The breath left Emily’s lungs as her eyes swept over the nursery. True to his love of the team, Gavin had turned the once bare room into a Yankees paradise. Not quite overkill, it was tastefully done and could easily thrive well into her son’s teenage years. Emily’s gaze fell upon a single navy blue wall with massive white built-in shelving units. Each held an array of glass-encased signed baseballs, trading cards, and hats. She took in everything from autographed jerseys hanging on cast-iron Yankees emblem hooks, to a real digital scoreboard, to a row of Yankees metal lockers. One wall showcased a floor-to-ceiling black and white scene of the field right out of the early Yankees days. “The House Ruth Built” graced the top of the mural. She swore it was a real photo. Just beyond one of the windows—swathed in long, navy blue drapes—was a soft, brown leather chair with fluffy baseball pillows. A New York City backdrop circular rug covered a good portion of the space. To top it off, he had actual stadium seats in the room. Emily was struck speechless.

“Did I lose my mind?” Gavin whispered, his chin on Emily’s shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her growing stomach, wishing he could see her face. “Or am I just crazy?”

Falling into the gravity of everything that made Gavin who he was, Emily faced him, her world spinning on an axis of love he provided. So many stolen moments and little things he’d said and done passed through her mind as she stared into his smiling blue eyes. Those thieving blue eyes that’d snatched her breath, heart, and soul the second she saw him. So many words, spoken and unspoken, echoed through her ears. This man, her best friend and lover, who didn’t know if the child she was carrying was his, kept the promise he’d made not so long ago. He already loved her baby, whether or not it was his, because it was part of her. God willing, part of him. Bringing her hands to his dimpled cheeks, she stared at him a beat longer before pushing up on her tiptoes. As her lips melted against his, she wondered how she’d gotten so lucky. Why, out of every woman in the world, did this certified wiseass pick her?

Slowly breaking the kiss, she looked at him, her mind in a daze. “I don’t even know how to thank you, Gavin. You’ve accepted me with every fragile weakness I have, loving me no less than a woman without faults. A woman without fears. Every look, touch, and kiss you’ve given without judgment of any kind. You’ve healed every exposed wound, old scar, and piece of pain I brought into this relationship without expecting anything in return. You’ve shown me what a racing heart feels like, shown me mere thoughts could easily cease with a single kiss. You’ve shown me what it is to feel truly, wholeheartedly, until the end of time
loved
. How do I thank you for all of this?”

“You do every single day,” he softly answered, stroking her hair.

Emily closed her eyes. “How?” She leaned into the heat of his touch.

“Look at me, Emily.” She opened her eyes, her watery gaze searching his. “Right there, doll. You said every look I’ve given you was without judgment. Well, every look you’ve given me is untouched, pure in all it is for my eyes. You look at me like you’ve never seen a man before. There’s no way for me, as a man, to ever explain what that feels like.” He reached for her hand and laid it against his heart. “You said every touch I’ve given was without judgment. Every time you touch me, your hands shake. You have no idea how that makes me shake. I’m not talking sexually, either. You shake everything I’ve ever know myself to be.”

Pulling her closer, he ghosted his mouth against hers. “And every kiss? Jesus, don’t even get me started on the way you kiss me. From the first kiss we shared that you stopped”—he softly bit her lip, sucking it between his teeth—”to this kiss right now, you sink me. You make love to me with every kiss. You confirm what this wiseass knew the second he laid eyes on a beautiful waitress with food splattered all over her uniform. I hate using the same lines, but your lips
were
made for mine. Which means each kiss was made for me. Each time you look at me the way you do, lay a shaky hand on my body, or your soft lips touch mine, you make me thank God for being a man. That’s how you thank me every day, and that’s the way I hope you continue to thank me for the rest of my life.”

Once again struck speechless, Emily wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him down for a kiss. She had a feeling she’d experience countless “struck speechless” moments with Gavin.

“Mmm. See? You just made love to me with that kiss.” Gavin grinned, reaching for Emily’s hand and leading her out of the nursery.

“I like that term. I make
love
to you with my kisses.”

“Yes, ma’am, you do.” Gavin winked and grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter. “Now you have me wanting to do nothing but stay home all day so I can continue to get some good ol’ lovin’. I’m about to cancel this little outing.”

Emily giggled and plucked a soft, knit cardigan from the closet. Opting for comfortable flats instead of her gorgeous Stuart Weitzman heels, she sat on the couch and glanced at Gavin while she slipped them on. His suggestion of canceling was becoming more appealing by the second. With his Yankees cap pulled down to his brows, he looked extremely edible swathed in dark blue jeans, a fitted graphic T-shirt, and a pair of Chucks. Emily bit her lip and moved toward her eye candy.