Bootycall 2 - J. D. Hawkins Page 0,17
think about him.”
“The people you’re with can do that. They can make you just as bad as they are, or they can make you feel like you can do anything,” I say, looking directly at her. “Nobody knows that more than me.”
Gemma’s lips part gently. I reach out and touch her hand. She says nothing. She doesn’t need to.
We take a cab back to her place – way too loaded with shopping bags for the bike – and I step out of the cab with her to walk her up the driveway. She giggles as we walk.
“It’s very gentlemanly of you to walk me to the door.”
“If you knew what I was thinking about you wouldn’t say that.”
She spins around, a semi-shocked smile on her face.
“What are you thinking about?”
I raise my hand to her waist, slowly winding it around to the small of her back, and pull her up against me, her face an inch from mine.
“Taking you out tonight,” I say, a second before I bring my lips to hers. She pulls back a little, playfully, making me chase her, follow her, press into her, until she gives in, her arms wrapping around my back, fingers pressing against my muscles, tits pressing against my chest. I squeeze her, lifting her up against my body a little, letting her really feel like she’s floating away, and her held breath lets me know she likes it.
It seems to last for hours, this moment of electrifying connection, and we both hold ourselves on the edge of the cliff, slowly stepping closer, but not wanting to jump – not just yet. She won’t let me. It’s all I can do to hold back. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t be on her doorstep, practically begging for a date.
No she’d be sprawled across a bear-skin in front of a roaring fire. I’d be licking her, everywhere, and she’d be moaning for more.
“So?” I prod, hoping she won’t say no.
She pulls away, and opens her eyes.
“Ok,” she says. “Pick me up around eight.”
Chapter 6
Gemma
“That dress is amazing, Gemma,” Frankie says, as I give a twirl to show off the silk dress Dylan bought me. “And you look amazing in it. I’d be jealous if I wasn’t planning on borrowing it soon.”
I walk towards where Frankie is lying down on my bed and grab a chocolate from the box she’s opened. “Be my guest. You’ll just have to hope Dylan doesn’t rip it off me first, though.”
Her jaw drops. “He bought you that? Damn that man has good taste.”
“He bought me a few things.”
“Girl, you really lucked out with him. He’s totally sweeping you off your feet.”
“We’re just friends,” I say as I sit down in front of my mirror and start putting on make-up, though I can see Frankie still shaking her head in the reflection.
“Right. Just friends.”
I shrug. “I guess I’m not sure what it is. I mean, we’re trying to keep it professional but it’s so hard. And he’s so different than Robb. Not the fact that he’s buying me things, but that he really cares about what I say and what I think. Can you believe I stayed with Robb for two years?” I say, as I get to work with the foundation. “I didn’t realize how much he messed me up until I saw him today. But Dylan took care of it.”
“Well, I hope it works out. You’ve earned it. But you should be careful, too,” Frankie says, grabbing my tablet from the bedside table.
“Careful?”
“If something seems too good to be true, it usually is – and this sounds way too good. I know I was pushing you about this before, and I still want you to have fun with him, but things have moved really fast and I just don’t want you getting hurt. His reputation—”
“Don’t worry, I’m well aware of Dylan’s faults,” I say, cutting her off. “Did I tell you that he turned up at my father’s place when we were having a barbecue?”
I wait for Frankie to respond, and when she doesn’t I pull the mascara stick away to look at her. She’s staring at the tablet with a dropped jaw.
“What is it?” I ask, spinning around in my seat.
She holds the tablet up to reveal a picture of me and Dylan carrying designer bags. A paparazzi shot from earlier today.
“Looks like you just became a star yourself,” Frankie grins.
“Uh…” I say, spinning back to continue with my make-up in the mirror. “I guess that’s why