Her eyes widen as I lay bare the truth. It’s not like I haven’t had the opportunity. The clubhouse is full of them. But after Emery, the sight of another woman made my tongue dry and every part of me disinterested. They didn’t have her blue eyes or wild spirit. They didn’t see me like she seems to. My opposite. My soulmate. No one understands me like her, and it has nothing to do with life experience. It’s this comfort she offers. The fact that she makes me want to do better—be better. She makes life feel worth living again.
I circle the room, dropping into the chair that faces the bed.
“What are you doing?” She sits up taller, and I smirk.
“I already told you not to stop on my account, Emery. And since it was my name falling from your lips as you were about to come, I figure it’s only fair I get to watch.”
“It wasn’t—” Her breath catches, and she cuts herself off.
She doesn’t even realize she was calling my name, which means she couldn’t help it. Add that to my list of kinks when it comes to this girl. I want to fill her thoughts as much as I want to fill her body.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” I tell her. “I fucking love it.”
Emery bites her bottom lip, and I let my stare roam. Even with the sheet now covering her legs, the shape of her is intoxicating. Her nipples peak against her T-shirt.
“Well?” My eyebrow quirks in a challenge.
And like the perfect girl she is for me, she can’t help but play along.
Emery scoots up the bed until her back hits the frame. She slowly slides the sheet away, but her thighs are still pressed tight.
“Spread your legs.” I tip my chin at her. “Show your husband how wet you are.”
Husband.
That’s a title I never wanted. I never saw the point. But something about knowing this girl has claimed me—that she’smy wife—is so fucking hot.
I spent ten months riding across Vegas searching for her, and here she is. The angel who will bring my soul home.
Emery hesitates for only a moment before slowly tipping her knees open. Her panties are still pushed to the side, revealing her glistening pussy. Perfect and on display just for me.
“Good girl.” I lean back in the chair, watching her. “Let me see how you were touching yourself waiting for me to get home.”
She slips her fingers through her wet slit, and I groan. It’s been so long since I’ve fucked anything other than my hand, and every day without Emery has felt like a year. She slips a finger down, wetting it and dragging it up in slow circles over her clit.
Absolute perfection.
I’m barely holding on as I grip the armrests tighter. If I release them, I’ll stand up and cross the room. I’ll flipher over and fuck her until I’ve made up for every second we’ve spent apart.
My nails dig in harder as Emery sinks two fingers into her pussy, and her eyelashes flutter.
I’m transfixed.
Stunned.
Not much throws me off my game, but as Emery’s back arches, her nipples peaking, my mind empties. She’s absolute perfection. Too good for me—there’s no doubt about that. But if she thinks I’m ever letting her go, then she’s wrong.
“Hayes.” My name on her lips is a fucking aphrodisiac.
“Use your words, Emery, tell me what you want.” My hand moves from the chair to my thigh, and I grip myself through my jeans because I can’t help it.
She writhes on the bed, and I’m fucking aching. There’s no containing the surge steadily growing as she climbs toward her release.
“I need—” She gasps as her eyes meet mine.
“Yes, wife?”
“I want to see you too.”
