“Do you want to come?” I growl.
“Yes.” Her eyebrows turn inward. “Oh God, yes.”
“Then come on my cock. Give it to me.”
Emma’s body trembles as she lets out a guttural sound. Her pussy spasms around my dick, and after three more pumps, I’m filling her with my cum.
I throw myself on top of her and continue to move, emptying myself completely.
“I love hearing you whimper for me,” she says against my neck. I moan at the lust in her voice. “It’s so sexy.”
I don’t tell her that she’s the only woman who’s ever triggered that sound from me, that feeling of never getting enough of her. Whenever we finish, I just want to keep going. I want to ravage her from the inside out.
“I feel the same about you coming. Your screams are a thing of beauty, Princess. Never stop screaming for me.”
Emma caresses my back and presses a soft kiss to my cheek.
“As long as you have me, I never will.”
And how long is that going to be?
After we clean up and get dressed, Emma goes to the kitchen and looks at what she brought. “Isn’t it weird that this was the last turkey they had? I wasn’t planning on coming over, but when I saw this, I knew I had to show it to you. Well, after I changed, that is.”
I freeze and look up. I’m technically staring at my ceiling, but what I’m really focused on is the sky beyond it. I tilt my head and think,Seriously, guys? This was the sign?
Chapter Forty-One
EMMA
Christmas Day
My mom, dad, and I gather around the tree to exchange presents like we do every Christmas morning, whenever we aren’t in London or Aspen.
It’s one of the first winters where I’m not in the UK or Colorado, but that’s the last thing I wanted for more reasons than one. I begged my parents not to make me go. They barely hesitated before agreeing to stay and were more than happy to host a small gathering with close family friends instead.
My grandparents tried to nag me on the phone, and for the first time in my life, I hung up on them. My phone vibrates, and I pick it up, thinking it might be someone from the gang, particularly Jake, who’s in Aspen. It was odd that he and his family ended up there rather than somewhere tropical, but when I pick up my phone, my grandma’s name flashes on the screen. I hit the red button, not ready to talk to her just yet. Maybe not for a long time. I’m twenty-one and have no reason to depend on them for anything, nor do I need their approval of my life, and I honestlyhave no idea why I let them treat me the way they did for so long.
I guess part of it is that I got used to going to their place for the holidays because my father’s parents passed away when I was younger, but enough is enough. It’s almost a new year and time for a fresh start. But the only person I want to start fresh with isn’t here and still hasn’t called.
It’s been three days, and although his last gift was thoughtful, my anxiety is at an all-time high as I wonder what he might be doing today.
My attention shifts back to my dad, who’s unwrapping the vinyl records I bought him at a music shop Levi and Stevie took me to last month. They had a great selection of old rock, including a signed vinyl by an indie eighties band my dad loves. He carefully unwraps the box I had put in protective packaging and smiles when he realizes what it is.
Dad hugs me and gazes at the vinyl as if it’s something as precious as Mom or me, making me stifle a laugh.
Mom then opens the vintage Chanel pumps I found online that look exactly like the ones she’s wearing in a picture from when she was a teenager. Whenever she flips through a family album, she points at the shoes, and says, “Those were the first pair of heels your grandma let me choose, and I loved them for that.”
To me, it meant that it was the first time she ever had control over her life. After she was able to feed herself, she was practically raised by nannies here before going to high school in London and then returning to New York for college.
Mom yelps when she takes the shoes out. “Oh my God.” Her eyes widen. “These are the ugliest shoes I’ve ever seen.” She smiles. “And I absolutely adore them!”
The three of us laugh. When I received them back in Driscoll, I couldn’t help but think about how terrible they looked until I remembered her story, and the look on her face was completely worth the days of searching it took to find them.
As soon as my parents hand me my present, the doorbell rings.
We all turn to each other, wondering who that might be at this hour on a holiday. Our party isn’t starting until six.
“I’ll get it,” Dad says, and walks out of the living room.
