Dirty Little Secret (Forbidden Desires #1)

Emma

Tonight, Gavin had shown me a side of himself that I was still coming to grips with. Inexplicably, he’d let me into his world—shown me a painful glimpse of his past, treating me to a front-row seat to all of it.

I knew from Cooper that they’d had a rough childhood, but I never could have imagined what our little tour entailed. Driving through those streets, seeing his run-down neighborhood and the desolate apartment building he’d called home, I still had chill bumps on my arms just thinking about it. Graffiti-littered streets and women waiting on street corners weren’t a part of my upbringing. But they had been his, and he’d entrusted me with that knowledge.

To know that even now he only lived thirty minutes away from it all, it made me realize that his painful past might not be so distant after all. I knew it wasn’t something he’d share with just anyone. As strange as it sounded, that was special to me, and for that reason, it was a memory I’d cherish.

It probably hadn’t been the best idea to go touring the slums in a brand-new Mercedes, yet I’d never felt unsafe. With Gavin by my side, I’d felt secure in the knowledge that he could handle anything that came our way.

I would never forget his expression when he’d parked. The hard set of his jaw, the feel of his warm palm on my knee, the sleek, luxurious interior of his car where we sat safely cocooned against the stark poverty outside our windows. It was an experience I’d never expected.

But then again, with Gavin I was learning to expect the unexpected.

As close as we’d grown, I knew he was still holding a part of himself back, but I had a feeling tonight was going to change that. Maybe it was because of the way he’d made himself so vulnerable today, or because of the sweet dinner date he’d planned. But with the way his voice had gone husky and his eyes had blazed with passion when he asked if I was ready to leave—I knew he was taking me home.

My skin tingled with the desire for his hands, my body warm and flushed with the secret knowledge that tonight was going to be the night we’d have sex for the first time.

I certainly wasn’t a virgin, so none of this should have felt new or nerve-racking to me, but it did—incredibly so. Gavin wouldn’t be like my other lovers; I knew that for certain. And the anticipation was killing me. I wanted my hands on him, wanted to feel the weight of his body on mine.

And there would be no going back.

We drove on, turning right onto an almost-deserted street lit with pretty streetlights for another few minutes, until finally pulling into an underground parking garage. Gavin used a keycard to gain entrance, and the mechanical gate slid open silently to admit us.

After pulling into a designated spot right next to the car I recognized as his driver’s, Gavin killed the engine.

“Are you ready?”

I nodded and unlatched my seat belt.

Outside the car, I swayed in my heels, the wine we’d enjoyed at dinner catching up with me. Gavin reached for my elbow, steadying me. He took my purse, holding the strap in his free hand, and led me toward the elevator.

The sight of Gavin holding my deep purple clutch—this big alpha male, well over six feet of solid muscle—it made my heart swell. He certainly knew his way into my panties, but my heart? Was that open to him too?

Before I had time to ponder that, the doors to the elevator closed and Gavin’s muscular frame was pinning me to the wall, his mouth descending firmly over mine. As he nipped at my bottom lip, I knew as long as I lived, I’d never tire of his kisses. The way his tongue moved expertly against mine, the way he coaxed soft moans from my throat despite my best efforts to remain as neutral as he seemed, it was intoxicating. I was drunk on him, and still I wanted more.

The elevator doors opened to an atrium with skylights that I was sure were beautiful during the day, but tonight they were almost eerie, revealing midnight-blue sky and the soft glow of the moon up above.

Gavin stopped in front of a large pale gray door, the only one in the atrium, and entered his code until I heard the lock click.

“I’m surprised it’s not the penthouse.”

“That’s a bunch of overpriced nonsense. I have the entire floor to myself. I do have some limits, pet.” His mouth pulled into a smirk that made my belly flip.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

His home was immaculate. A kitchen greeted us first, outfitted with black granite, chrome fixtures, and gray cabinetry that looked so high-end, I was afraid to touch anything. Next, we passed by a formal living room and dining room that I wondered if he ever used. Soft gray silk drapes hung from the ceiling, framing huge picture windows that overlooked an impressive cityscape.

Gavin led me deeper into his apartment, past well-appointed furniture and art. Apparently, he wasn’t kidding about owning the entire fifteenth floor of the building. He stopped in a cozy den with an oversized sofa, a worn leather ottoman, and a flat-screen TV mounted to the wall above a gas fireplace. A side table was strewn with magazines like The Economist and Architectural Digest, along with his laptop.

Part of me wondered if this was where he spent his evenings—the hum of the TV in the background while he worked on his laptop until exhaustion overtook him and he wandered alone to his bedroom. Then again, why did I assume he was alone? He was young, wealthy, and strikingly handsome. He probably had a harem of women available at his beck and call.

All this time I’d assumed I was the only one, but perhaps that was foolish. A weight settled in the pit of my stomach.

“It’s a beautiful place,” I murmured absently.

Gavin continued past the den, hardly acknowledging my compliment. “I had it remodeled, gutted to the studs, before I moved in last year.”

“Did you pick everything yourself?”

He nodded. “Mostly. Sonja helped too.”

The woman I’d met at his office. I briefly wondered if she had a crush on him. Then again, how could she not?

“A guest room.” Gavin pointed to a door on our left as he led me down a hallway. “There’s a loft upstairs with a media room.”

“You have a theater?”

He nodded, smiling at me. “Would you like to come over and watch a movie sometime?”

“I would love to.” Somehow, I couldn’t picture myself sharing a bowl of popcorn with him while a silly comedy played in the background.

Gavin pressed on, continuing the tour. “Guest bath.”

“Nice.”

“And the master suite.” He stopped at the threshold. I guessed that this was it—the tour was over.

“Can I see?” I tried peeking around his shoulder, but the room was concealed in utter darkness.

“Where I sleep?”

I nodded.

His lips quirked up just a fraction. He was waiting for this moment. Apparently, he wanted me to be the one to ask, to give him permission for whatever was about to happen in this room.

He flipped on a small lamp on his dresser as we entered, and my eyes took a moment to adjust. It looked like a high-end hotel room.

A large iron-framed bed dressed in fluffy gray bedding was positioned between two round side tables that each held sparkling crystal lamps. A chaise lounge sat beneath the window, its velvety charcoal upholstery soft and inviting. A door led beyond to his closet and a large bathroom. It was elegant and masculine, perfectly fitting for him.

“Are you . . . seeing anyone else?” The words popped out, sounding immature and childish, even to my own ears.

His mouth tilted into a smile. “You want to know if I’m fucking someone else. Is that it, Emma?”