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I take the fake gold chain into my hand and hold it up to the light, revealing a little running shoe charm that dangles down.
“Emmett!” I gasp. “I love it!”
“Of course, it’s worth nothing,” he admits, sounding embarrassed. “But I knew it was perfect for you. In the scope of what I can afford.”
I hand him the necklace and turn my back to him, flailing my hands in a rush for him to put it on me. “It is perfect,” I insist. “No matter what you can or can’t afford, I still would have wanted this one.”
I admire the sight of it resting across my chest. Out of all the things he could have bought me, he picked this necklace with a running shoe charm because he knows how important track and running are to me. Between this and his willingness to follow me to whatever school I want to go to, I realize just how big of a shot we really do have at figuring all of this out. He supports my dreams, and I can’t think of anything more important to find in a man.
“Thank you,” I murmur as I wrap my hands around his face and pull him close.
He kisses me softly and slowly, knowing we have to go, but soon we’re unable to pull away. We are caught up in the taste of each other and the kiss deepens. My body sparks with excitement as his tongue rolls across mine, and I can’t stop myself from climbing over to his seat, straddling my legs around his lap. As I lower my hips onto his, our kiss growing more urgent, I can feel the hardness rising beneath his jeans.
His hands quickly grow more daring, spreading across my thighs, squeezing them and pulling me against his erection. Then they drift upwards, gripping my breasts tightly. We’re both panting with need and before long, we’re flinging every article of clothing we can get off of each other to some other part of the car. The steering wheel is an obvious obstacle, but he quickly pulls the lever on the side of the seat to send it back, giving us more room.
Half-naked and overwhelmed with arousal, I lean down over him, finally having enough of my clothes off to push my panties to the side and slide him into the wetness between my legs. He hisses and claws into my ass with excitement, just as a satisfied moan breaks through my lips. I’m always surprised by how deeply he fills me and how good it feels. I move up and down slowly, relishing the feeling of how easily he glides in and out of me.
My mouth hovers over his as we both let out heavy breaths and groans. But finally, he mutters words, broken up by grunts of pleasure, “We have to… hurry…the cops…if they find us…out here like this…”
“Shhhh,” I grin, holding one finger up to his lips as I move faster, pushing us both to the edge. He holds on for as long as he can, his eyes lighting up as he watches me ride him until I am yelling out with the crash of my orgasm.
As it fades into whimpers and I slow down, he grips my hips and begins moving me up and down, picking up the pace again until he cums. I love the way he digs his fingers into my skin as he growls through his climax, pulling out just in time to spill out onto my thigh.
We giggle as we clean up and awkwardly work our way back into our clothes. It was just the release we needed after our first day back, but I soon remember the promise I’ve made. When I get home, I have to tell my mom everything I’ve been avoiding telling her for so long.
The laid back, relaxing feeling of our time together fades the closer we get back to my house. There’s been a dark cloud looming over this place for too long now and I’m hoping that coming clean will make everything start to feel a little better. If nothing else, Emmett and I will have another person to turn to if things get bad again.
But then a scarier thought pops into my head. What if the other benefit of this is that I will have a person outside of Emmett to turn to? Half of what got us to where we are now was him being the only person in the world who understood what I was going through, even when it was because he was the person putting me through it all. While this is good for me, I hate that part of me still wonders if that dark side to Emmett I’ve seen in the past is still lurking in there somewhere, waiting to rear its ugly head again.
I push all of that down for now as we pull into my driveway. Emmett gives me a slow, lingering kiss goodnight, mixed with soft, mischievous laughter. We’re still high on lust for each other, and we both know we could easily go for round two if we had a place to go and the time. But reluctantly, I pull myself away and go inside.
I stop just inside the door and take a deep breath, gearing myself up for this inevitable talk. My mom is sitting on the couch alone, watching TV.
“Where’s Brendan?” I ask as I curl my legs up next to her.
“Working late,” she replies, shooting me a sweet smile.
Mothers are usually the ones protecting their daughters from the harsh, cruel realities of the world. I know my mom is by no means sheltered or naïve, but sometimes she just looks so content and hopeful, I hate to spoil it by letting her know she’s unknowingly thrown me into a hell hole by bringing me here.
“Can we talk?” I finally blurt with a sharp breath, needing to get it out there before I change my mind.
“Sure,” she perks up with concern, quickly picking up the remote to turn off the TV, giving me her undivided attention.
“About dad,” I force out with another nervous breath. It’s not just about him, but he’s a big enough player in all of this, I figure it’s the best place to start.
To my surprise, she immediately rolls her head with an almost agitated expression. “Oh, Ophelia,” she groans. “Do we have to get into all of that tonight? Look, I’m sorry. I should have been more sensitive to you meeting him for the first time…”
“No, Mom,” I cut her off. “That’s just it. That wasn’t…”
“But sometimes certain things just have to be like a band-aid, you know? You and I could have sat and talked and worked ourselves up into a frenzy over him coming here for hours, and maybe chickened out of the whole thing altogether. But we just jumped in and did it, and now you can say you know who your biological father is,” she states optimistically.
“Oh, I know who he is alright,” I grumble under my breath.
But she’s quick to keep talking over me, ignoring my remark. “Ever since we had that dinner…everything just feels…a little lighter. You know? There’s no more big bad skeleton waiting in our closet. He’s just your dad who comes and has dinner sometimes. That’s all.”
Her eyes are wide and looking at me expectantly. It’s not like her to be so adamant about something without even hearing me out first. Normally she’s begging me to talk more and resents having to be the one to say everything. Maybe I’ve trained her into being this way. But then I look deeper into her eyes and realize she’s asking, begging for my permission to feel this way. She’s worked hard to get to this place, and she’s terrified of me stealing away this peace of mind she’s finally achieved.
“You’re right,” I exhale, settling back into the couch. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so resistant to the whole idea. It’s a good thing that he came.”
