Urging me to surrender. To give myself over to what I’ve yearned for so damn long.
The feel of his soft lips pressed harshly against mine, his scent teasing my senses while his hands hold me firm, makes me gasp, wanting—no—needingmore, and when I part my lips, he thrusts his silken tongue between them, groaning when our tongues clash almost desperately.
His hands slide into my hair as his mouth dominates mine, kissing me as though I’m his lifeline. Like he’ll never get enough. Like we’ll never be close enough, and I eagerly submit, wanting this soul-defining kiss to go on forever.
I grip the collar of his starched white shirt, keeping him firmly against me, and I whimper into his mouth when his broad chest vibrates with a low growl as he deepens the kiss. When he takes both of us to another plane of existence. As he elevates me to another realm where all I can feel, all I can taste, touch, breathe is this man and the feelings he’s stirring to life within me.
Ford suddenly breaks the kiss to press our brows together. We’re both panting as though we’ve just run a marathon when our eyes meet, and a wide smile spreads across his face.
His eyes shine into mine as he slips his hands from my hair to gently palm my cheeks, and my chest swells with rawemotion for the man staring at me as though I’m his sun, moon, and stars.
Watching me with eyes that I can feel myself drowning in before his softly murmured words ghost across my kiss-swollen lips.
“Sweeter than a peach.” Leaning closer, he brushes his lips against mine once more, his eyes holding me their willing prisoner as he whispers, “And I’m starvin’ for you, Tink.”
“Earth to Emerson.”
I jolt back to the here and now, my senses still flooded with Ford, to find I’m back at our table opposite Reese, who’s watching me expectantly.
“Are you ready to order, sweetie?”
My eyes flicker to Hayley on my left, who gives me a reassuring smile, and I nod, forcing back the memories—all of them—the good, the bad…the truly heinous.
Then, I face our server with an exceptionally well-polished fake smile, quickly placing an order for my favorite meatball dish as though I haven’t a care in the world.
After all, these past five years have been one ongoing masquerade. They don’t call me America’s Sweetheart for nothing.
CHAPTER 5
FORD
My eyes flickfrom my inbox on the computer screen before me to the monitor on my right, where the live feed of Emerson’s ongoing Zest magazine photo shoot is taking place downtown.
She’s leaning over Lawson’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around him with her blonde hair tossed back as she smiles brightly for the cameras that continue to snap incessantly. Both of them lean this way and that, the epitome of professionalism, until Lawson suddenly pivots around to grasp Emmy’s waist, tugging her closer to press a kiss to her lips.
Her inimitable sweetness explodes on my tongue, and I clench my jaw, immediately moving Lawson fucking Wilde to the top of my shit list.
Asshole.
Despite his actions, everything appears aboveboard, so I return my distracted gaze to the work at hand.
Scheduling my employees is never a fun gig, and paperwork has never been my strong suit, so within less than thirty seconds, I find my eyes drawn back to the monitor. Staff are milling around Emmy and Lawson, adjusting hair and makeup as the co-stars chat closely.
When I’d first heard the rumblings of a rumored romance between the two, I’d instantly written it off. In the years since I walked away, I’ve seen a handful of boyfriends come and go, and this guy doesnotfit the bill in the least.
But since Sentinel has been brought on board and the potential danger in Emmy’s life, I’ve been even more thorough than before. I’ve pored over her every move, and the more I’ve watched, the more assured I’ve become that my initial assumption was wrong.
Because Emerson Hart and Lawson Wilde haveactualchemistry.
My chest aches, and I reach my hand up to rub at the spot while I watch the screen before me. The pain escalates when Lawson picks up a strawberry from a platter held out to them by an attendant and holds it up to Emmy’s lips.
She smirks before taking a bite of the proffered fruit, her pointed pink tongue darting out to lick the excess juices off her lips. The sight makes my neglected dick thicken in my slacks, and I swiftly adjust myself, making a mental note to take care of that later.
Sex with my hand is never overly appealing, but the idea of sex with anyone other than Emmy turns my stomach.
I’m about to reach for my guitar, needing something to do aside from fixating on the couple before me, when there’s a sudden commotion off-camera that has everyone freezing, and Emmy’s laughter-filled face transforms entirely at whatever she’s seeing.
Without missing a beat, I dial Damon, cursing him loudly when he doesn’t answer. My blood pounds in my ears, needing to know what’s going on as I dial Lenny, Damon’s backup, who shouldn’t be far away.
