London Falling (Falling #2)(36)
“You like the dress a lot I see?” Oliver’s eyes were calculating. His lips twitched into a knowing grin. Aspen fluffed her hair.
“I warned you. I like it down.” Hank said, his tone serious and flat.
Oliver huffed and blew out a frustrated breath. “Seriously? You already scored the woman, impregnated her, yet you still have to go all cowboy caveman?”
Aspen’s hands flew to her mouth, holding back her laughter as Ollie ranted.
“Do you know how long it takes me to make those perfect French twists with her baby fine hair?” He pointed at Aspen’s hair that was around her shoulders in pretty golden waves. Apparently it wasn’t down when Ollie left her earlier. I snickered internally. My prim and proper sister was really a dirty bird who obviously had some wicked sex this evening. Go Aspen!
Hank shrugged, slid a huge paw into the hair at my sister’s nape and tugged her into a wild kiss. She didn’t even try to pull away. He owned her, body and soul. It was clear as day to any onlooker. Hank’s hands tunneled into her hair as he slanted his mouth over hers, gaining deeper access. I could feel the love pouring off those two like a wall of hot air hitting me in the face, burning with intensity. Once Hank pulled away, he nuzzled Aspen’s nose with his and gave her one last peck.
“Down.” He pointed to Oliver and with a firm hand around my sister’s waist, tugged her toward the doorman. She giggled, hot on his heels like a silly teenager with a boyhood crush. I totally got it. Hank was a hunk. Also a running joke in this group.
“Neanderthal,” Ollie shouted after him. We all laughed. Dean gripped Oliver’s hand and crooked his elbow for me. I took his arm and together we all crowed into the elevator.
Hank knocked on the door and we were greeted by a stunning brunette in a gold satin blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt. Her eyes were dark and familiar, blazing with an intensity that spoke of an age well beyond her obvious youth.
“Welcome.” The petite woman smiled sweetly as she held open the door. The gang shuffled in. “Wow, Nate, you have some beautiful friends.” She eyed each of us individually and chuckled.
Nate’s head popped out over a counter and waved. “That I do, sister mine.”
Ah, Nate’s sister. That means she’s related to Collier as well. Bristles of nervous energy shot up my arms leaving gooseflesh in its wake. The lovely woman came right over to me and grabbed my hand. “You must be London. Colly has told me so much about you.”
“Colly?” I grinned, realizing I just was given some excellent blackmail material. “Yes, my brother, Collier.”
“We don’t really know each other that well. And you are?” I held out my hand to her.
“Goodness. I forgot my manners.” She threw a dishtowel over her shoulder after wiping her hands and stuck her hand out. “Emma Taylor. Come on in. Have a drink.”
“Ah, I see the gang is here,” a liquid deep voice came from over my shoulder. I closed my eyes to let the rumble and his nearness fill my senses. A warm hand encased my shoulder and turned me around. Eyes the color of brown sugar glinted and swirled with something akin to desire.
Collier cupped my cheek, his thumb lightly sweeping along the skin before he laid a whisper-soft kiss against first my left, then my right cheek.
“London,” spilled from his lips as if they’d been said in prayer, calm, yet filled with intent. A shiver scuttled down my spine as he pulled away.
Nate made his entrance from the kitchen and introduced Collier to those he hadn’t met, as well as to Emma.
It was just the right amount of time needed to pull myself together. The connection between Collier and me had not dimmed in the two weeks since our evening of pure bliss. If anything, it was stronger, sizzling between us like a live wire, ends exposed ready to burn anything in contact with it.
Nate handed me a glass of white wine and I gulped the first half down greedily, hoping to cool my jets. I made a point to hang out near Aspen, though the second we arrived she and Ollie started talking to Nate about an issue with one of their clients. They needed to have Nate look into it. Bored to tears, I skated around Collier and made my way to where Hank was looking at the artifacts and books lining the living room wall. It reminded me to give the place a once over. I’d be here in a few weeks. Might as well get my pre-run done now.
The room wasn’t bad, I decided as I did a cursory scan. Nate obviously had some definite pleasure pieces, thought his things weren’t placed in a cohesive way. Nothing I couldn’t fix. He’d have to let go of some of the art pieces or place them in other rooms. He mixed textures, colors, and styles that jolted the eye and forced a person to look around the room sporadically. It made me feel dizzy and unbalanced. Not the feeling you wanted a guest entering your space to have.
It was obvious Nate was edging toward a more elegant approach in his home design. Certain pieces were very expensive and definite eye-catchers, things that he noticeably adored but didn’t know how to place. On one of the book shelves stood a solitary piece. It was a telescope from the 18th or 19th century. It wasn’t as archaic as being from the sixteen hundreds when Galileo created the first telescope but it had the curved glass and had likely only modified three times. It was a stunning piece and would look amazing on the mantle with protective hardware and appropriate lighting to give it the attention it deserved.
“That was passed down generations in the Walker bloodline,” Collier said leaning into my back, pressing his sculpted chest against the exposed skin.