“Okay, so are we going to my friend’s party?” Fallon laughed.
Emily shrugged. “Let’s do it.”
After redirecting the driver to their new destination, they pulled up to a swanky three-story townhouse in the Todt Hill area of Staten Island thirty minutes later. Olivia paid the driver the difference, and the women slipped out from the taxi, each a little wobbly from the moonshine. From the street, the music hammered out of the closed windows, vibrating the ground beneath Emily. With a hiccup, she laughed as they made their way up the stairs and into the house.
Multiple towers of speakers stood in every corner of the downstairs level, amplifying the noise to the point where Emily could barely hear herself think. Her eyes scanned the party, and she realized that Fallon wasn’t kidding. It definitely was an “anything-goes” gathering. From people sporting casual attire to others dressed like they were headed to prom to girls wearing practically nothing while gyrating against one another, the crowd was a mixed array of every type of partygoer.
Chain-linking hands, Emily, Olivia, and Fallon snaked their way through the throng of a hundred or so people, ultimately finding the owner of the home, Fallon’s friend, Jacob.
After hugging him hello, Fallon yelled over the music. “Jakey, this is Emily and Olivia.”
Without saying a word, he smiled widely and picked each of them up off their feet, hugging them as if he had known them for years. Once he placed them down, Emily and Olivia burst out laughing hysterically.
“Welcome to mi casa, ladies,” he flashed a smile, his voice booming. “Alcohol’s in the kitchen; free lap dances from some of the hottest strippers in New York are located in the downstairs den; pool table’s to the rear of the house; bathrooms are strategically placed on each level; and if you decide to get a little out of control with someone, bedrooms with king-sized beds in each are plentiful on the second and third floors.” He said it all in one breath.
“Fuckin’-A, cool,” Olivia smirked. “You have strippers here?”
Running a hand through his carrot-colored hair, he smiled devilishly. “They come in droves to my parties.”
Olivia grabbed for Emily and Fallon’s hands. “Shots are needed in my system right about now, chicks.” She turned back to Jake and gave him a wink. “Thanks, bud.”
He nodded and disappeared into the crowd.
The women dodged multiple dancing bodies, a guy running around with underwear on his head while a topless girl chased after him, and several couples making out. Eventually, they made their way into the kitchen where a fully stocked bar awaited each of them.
After consuming two more shots of tequila, they headed out to the backyard to partake in an hour-long game of flip cup. Using Captain Morgan as her preferred liquid, Emily’s head was pleasantly fuzzy to say the least.
Walking back into the house with Olivia at her side, she leaned up against a wall. “Olivia,” she slurred. “I’m pretty…”
“I know you’re pretty, Em,” Olivia chirped, her own words slurring. “But stop bragging about it.”
Slowly shaking her head, Emily laughed. “No…you didn’t let me finish, bitch.” Her head lolled to the side. “I’m trying to—” she hiccupped, “tell you that I’m pretty—” hiccup, “drunk right now.”
“So am I, chick,” she laughed and snorted like a pig.
Emily shook her head again. “No, but I—” hiccup, “am pretty sure that I’m seeing things, too.” She pointed her finger toward the front door as her eyes squinted in its direction. “Look. Those two guys—” hiccup, “that just walked in look like Gavin and Trevor.”
Olivia let out a laugh. “You silly girl, you’re not seeing things. It
is
Gavin and Trevor.”
Emily looked adorably confused as she peered at the two blurry images headed straight for them. “You’re joking with—” hiccup, “me, right? How would they know—” hiccup, “that we’re at this house?”
Olivia bit her lip. “Since I know that you’re digging Gavin—as a friend, of course,” she quickly added, swaying from side to side. “I decided to call my brother, knowing he was hanging out with Gavin tonight.” She gave Emily an innocent frown. “I told Trevor an itsy, bitsy, teeny, weeny lie to get them to come out here.”
Before Emily could inquire about this little lie, Gavin and Trevor approached them, both of their faces filled with concern.
Gavin placed his hands on Emily’s shoulders. “Are you alright?” His eyes automatically roved over her body as if assessing if she were hurt.
She stared at him silently with a blank expression on her face.
“Well, where the fuck is he?” Trevor asked Olivia, clenching his hands into fists.
“Calm down, brother,” Olivia laughed. “He was tossed out already.”
Trevor’s eyes traveled to Emily. He lifted her chin and moved her head back and forth. “How bad did the guy hurt you?”
Now she had Gavin’s hands on her shoulders and Trevor’s fingers under her chin. Speechlessly glaring at Olivia with a confused what-the-hell-did-you-tell-them stare, Emily…hiccupped.
Olivia grabbed Trevor’s arm away from her. “He didn’t hurt her. She was just getting her dance on with the dude, and he got a little frisky. Like I said, the owner got rid of him.”
Gavin took a step back and dropped his hands from Emily’s shoulders. “Liv, you said the guy smacked her.”
Olivia buried her face in her cup. “Did I say that?” she laughed.
“Yes, Olivia. You made it sound like she got bitch-slapped and tossed to the ground,” Trevor barked.
Fallon stumbled over and interrupted what was about to become a public sibling argument. She studied Gavin for a second. “Hey, you’re the guy from the restaurant that I asked Emily to give my number to.”
He smiled. “Yeah, that would be me, I guess.”
Fallon returned the smile and flicked her eyes in Trevor’s direction. If it were possible, her smile widened even more. “And who might you be?”
“I’m this over-exaggerator’s older brother,” he pointed to Olivia and then returned his attention back to Fallon. “And who might you be?”
“I’m a girl who’s really into cute guys with blonde hair and glasses.”
“Nice…I fit that description,” Trevor smiled. “And I’m a guy who’s into a pretty girl who speaks her mind. Wanna dance?”
Fallon grabbed his hand, threading his fingers with hers, and led him into the living room. Trevor turned back to Gavin, giving him a thumbs-up.
Gavin laughed.
“Soooo,” Olivia drawled, a smirk playing on her face. “I’m just gonna go get a lap dance. I’ll see you two later.” She disappeared into the crowd, her laugh echoing over the music.
Gavin smiled at Emily. He noticed the telltale-glazed sheen in her eyes, denoting that she had a little too much to drink. “Well, you look like you’re feeling pretty good right about now.”
She stepped closer and tilted her head up to look at him. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re very shmexy?”
“
Shmexy
?” He laughed, expecting an answer and not a question. He certainly didn’t expect that question. “Don’t you mean sexy?”
“Nope, there’s
shmexy
, and there’s
sexy
. And you, my friend, are shmexy.”
He cocked a brow, her throaty phone-sex voice arousing him almost instantly. “Mmm, which is better?”
“Shmexy.”
“Well, thank you. You’re pretty shmexy, if I must say so myself.”
She grabbed his hand and started walking toward the kitchen. “Come do a shot with me, Gavin.”
“You haven’t had enough to drink already?”
Coming to an abrupt stop, Gavin’s chest collided against her back. She spun around and stumbled into him as he grabbed her waist to steady her. “Has anyone ever told you that you have the most amazing, gorgeous, and shmexy blue eyes?”
“What’s with all of these questions, pal?” he asked quite amused.
“We’re friends, and friends ask questions.”
He cautiously moved her hair behind her shoulders and smiled. “Yes, I’ve been told that I have nice eyes.”
“No, they’re not just nice,” she hiccupped. “They’re…” She paused, wetting her lips. “They’re bedroom eyes.”
“So I’m shmexy, and I have bedroom eyes, huh?”
Nodding, she laced her hand with his again and dragged him into the kitchen. Standing in front of the spectacular choice of alcohol, she plucked a red plastic cup from the towering stack and handed it to him.
“What’s your poison, shmexy bedroom-eyes man?”
Crossing his arms, Gavin studied her for a moment. “I think I’m going to hold off on drinking for right now.”
Her eyes widened as she swayed back and forth. “What? No, you’re doing a shot with me.” She brushed her fingertips across his cheek. “Come on, pretty please?”
Never mind the cute girlish way she asked, her soft fingers still lingering on his face had him second-guessing his original gut feeling not to drink with her, considering she was pretty drunk. He swallowed.
“Just one.”
She beamed a smile. “Okay, back to my question. What’s your poison?”
“I’ll take that bourbon,” he gestured to a bottle of George T. Stagg with his head.
“This one?” she asked, holding it up.
He nodded and handed her his cup.
She started filling it—and kept on filling it.
“Whoa, wait a minute, killer,” he laughed and took the cup from her. Walking over to the sink, he poured three-quarters of it out. “This should be enough for now.”
She mouthed the word “boring” to him and once again clasped her hand in his, tugging him into the frenzied living room.
“Dance with me,” she rasped, looking into his eyes with a seductive smile curling her lips.
“Nah, I’m just going to chill right here,” he motioned to a couch filled with people equally as out of it as she was. He smiled. “You go ahead. I’ll just sit back and watch with blatant male appreciation.”
She lifted her chin in defiance. “Pfft, your loss, buddy.”
He laughed and watched her wiggle her way through the crowd where she eventually found Trevor and Fallon still going at it. Gavin could see her gazing at him. Her hair, hanging wildly, created a tumultuous auburn curtain that swayed as her body moved provocatively to the music. It took everything he had not to stand up from the couch and pull her into his arms. But he knew that dancing with her in the state she was in, along with his increasingly aroused frame of mind, would be deadly to them both. She was definitely putting on a show for him though. She backed herself against Fallon’s chest and caressed her hands down her waist. Trevor’s eyes widened at the display, but nonetheless, he positioned himself behind Fallon, grinding his hips against her ass.
Emily’s eyes caught Gavin’s again as she gestured with her fingers for him to join her. He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side, pretending to be confused as he pointed to himself. Smiling, she nodded her head. He mouthed the word “no” and pointed to some girl passed out next to him. Although he couldn’t hear her, Emily laughed, a smile beaming ear to ear as she continued to grind her backside against Fallon.
Gavin’s attention broke from Emily’s for a second when the incoherent girl beside him abruptly sat up and decided that the pillow she was laying on would be the perfect spot to throw up. One of her friends, who witnessed the disgusting scene, dragged the girl from the couch and helped her to the bathroom. Standing from the couch, Gavin moved across the living room, skillfully dodging several drunken people as they clung to one another in order to remain upright.
He leaned against the wall and scanned the crowd for Emily. When he spotted her, Trevor and Fallon weren’t with her. Their replacement was some guy with his hands moving down her waist, his eyes undressing her, his mouth in her ear—wait—now it was on her neck. Gavin evaluated her with the stroke of his eyes, and she seemed to be content with what was happening—but Gavin wasn’t. A surge of jealousy slithered its way through his body, and within a few strides, he was next to Emily. With the rigid set of his shoulders, a muscle working in his jaw, and his blue eyes filled with lethal calmness, Gavin pinned the other man with a glare. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t have to because the drunk got the point and backed away slowly.
“You’ve come to dance with me,” Emily breathed out, her skin glistening with sweat. Without warning, she slid her hands across Gavin’s taut muscular chest and then wrapped them around his neck. She drew his face down to hers. “I like dancing with shmexy guys.”
With their faces inches apart, a rush of adrenaline-spiked heat coursed through Gavin’s veins. His lips tingled in anticipation as he gazed at the curvature of Emily’s plump lips, remembering how they felt plastered against his. He tried—God knows he tried—to keep his hands off her, but he couldn’t. He found them gliding slowly down her waist, lingering as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her skirt. He pulled her closer, reveling in the way her sweat felt against his skin.
It was Emily’s turn to drag her lip through her teeth as her eyes bore into his with pure unadulterated lust. The pulsing music and the feel of his hard arousal pressed against her stomach fueled her further. She didn’t know if he heard it, but a soft moan wisped past her lips. She turned around, arched her back against his chest, and tilted her neck up. Her head barely reached his shoulder. Slowly—so slowly—he pulled her arms around his neck. As her fingers tangled in his hair, he smoothed his hands down the curve of her elbows, skimmed the side of her breasts, and ultimately settled back on her waist. With their bodies moving in sync to 50 Cent talking about “Just A Lil’ Bit,” Emily felt her heart trip over itself when Gavin grazed his lips against the shell of her ear.
Now she wanted to turn back around and face him to see his beautiful eyes and soak in every inch of his delectable body, but when she attempted to, he held her in place. He was teasing her, and she knew it. His touch left searing heat with every inch that made contact with her sensitive flesh. It left her wanting—no, craving—more. His attention was fast becoming an addiction to her that she didn’t think she could ever get enough of. If “Mother Nature” wasn’t calling her name, she would’ve stayed in that position with him the entire night.