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A loud moan escaped, and he covered my mouth with his to quell the sounds of my intense, wall-shaking orgasm. He gasped and drove himself into me one last time, shuddering and convulsing with the force of his own orgasm as his rock-hard member throbbed its explosive power within me.
With that, he collapsed, shivering and trembling with pleasure. He slipped his fingers through mine, and we gripped each other's hands as we lay together in a tangle of sweaty, shivering limbs and damp sheets, both breathing as hard as if we'd just sprinted a marathon.
Emerson rolled over on his back and pulled me next to him without saying a word. He caressed my cheek, ever so gently, and looked deeply into my eyes. Then he ran a finger through my hair and kissed me slowly and gently. “You're so beautiful,” he whispered to me. “So, so beautiful.”
He continued to caress and kiss me softly as the last waves of my orgasm died out.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Emerson
The sun hadn’t even made an appearance when my eyes opened. My head was feeling a bit fuzzy from all the wine I’d consumed the night before. For a moment, I was certain I was dreaming. I had to blink a few times to focus in the darkness of the room, but sure enough, it wasn’t a dream. I was naked, lying next to Brooke.
I stared at her while she slept for a while. God, she was beautiful. Beautiful in a way that plastic girls like Melissa could never be. I ran a finger gently across her cheek, brushing her skin lightly with my fingertips. It was impossible to resist touching her, even though I didn't want to wake her. She stirred in her sleep and the slightest hint of a smile appeared on her lips.
I kissed them lightly, and she half-opened her eyes. “Emerson,” she sighed and smiled at me as she shifted a little, moving closer to snuggle up next to me.
I instinctively wrapped my arms around her. “Good morning,” I whispered as I placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “I've gotta go see my dad now. Go back to sleep.”
“What t-time is it?” she mumbled.
I glanced at the clock on her nightstand. “It's around five in the morning. Shh, go back to sleep,” I coaxed in a quiet tone, not wanting to disrupt her too much.
“Mmm, okay,” she whispered and dozed back off.
I gently disengaged myself from her embrace and reluctantly got out of bed. It wasn’t even remotely what I wanted to do. I wanted to stay. I wanted to have a repeat of last night, only without the influence of too much wine. But I also wanted to see my dad, so, I got dressed as quietly as possible and tiptoed out.
Once back in my apartment, I checked the day’s weather and then packed a backpack with some clothes and a few essentials before I set out on the six-hour ride up to my dad's place. I put my helmet on, thumbed the starter, and prepared to go. On the horizon, the first golden silvers of sunlight were appearing. It was a nice day for a ride and the weather was supposed to stay clear. I'd be off the interstate before most of the morning commuter traffic hit, and from there, it would be backwoods country roads without too many other vehicles.
A few hours later, I pulled into a gas station and parked my bike outside of a meager diner attached to the gas station. I dismounted and stretched my limbs. After riding for almost three hours straight, my wrists and back were a little stiff. An old man dressed in grimy dungarees and a tattered baseball cap stared at me as he chewed on a stalk of long grass. I was out in the sticks, alright. Mountains stretched to the verge of the horizon and old forests stood sentry at the edges of the road. It was picturesque, to say the least.
I reached into my pocket for my phone, intending to take some pictures of the scenery and send them to Brooke who would surely be awake and on her way to class. That's when my heart stopped.
My phone was gone.
In a panic, I patted all of my pockets thinking maybe I'd put it in a different one.
I hadn't. I always kept it in the left front pocket of my jeans.
And then I looked at the jeans I was wearing—the same pair from the previous night—and I cursed myself for my stupidity. These were the jeans that my phone always fell out of when I was on my bike. The design of the pockets meant the phone sat at an angle when I was on the motorcycle which, unfortunately for me, was the perfect slant for it to work its way out of the pocket while I was riding.
It had happened twice before but, luckily, I had noticed the phone falling out and been able to retrieve it. For that reason, I’d always tried to avoid wearing this particular pair of jeans when riding. However, in my haste and early morning grogginess, I had kept them on. And now my phone had fallen out, possibly a hundred miles back or something. It was gone for sure, probably smashed to bits under the wheels of cars and trucks.
I shook my head and cursed. Not that there was anything I could do about it. I'd just have to wait until I got back to talk to Brooke. I headed into the diner for some coffee and a snack, losing my phone just one more thing to add to my feelings of uncertainty about the twenty-four hours ahead of me. Despite my worries about Dad, Brooke was occupying my thoughts, as well. In fact, I found myself replaying the previous night over and over in my head as I drove the final three hours. Thankfully, when I arrived, hanging out with Dad kept my mind off of her for a bit.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Brooke
I rolled over and brought my hand down on my alarm. My head was still a little foggy. I definitely wasn't used to drinking that much wine. I rubbed my eyes and tried to make sense of the partial memory of Emerson kissing me and saying he had to leave while it was still dark at five o'clock in the morning. And then all the memories of what had happened the night before came flooding back.
Emerson and me.
His hands, all over me. The warmth of his mouth on
mine. Our bodies pressed together, writhing, sweating, moaning with the intensity of it all. A smile grew on my lips and my cheeks warmed at the thought of it. I couldn't wait for it to happen again. I lingered in bed, replaying the events that had led up to the best sex I’d ever had. While I did, it hit me. I was ready. I was finally ready to move on. Everything that had happened with Andrew had finally been consigned to the past. I smiled. Just knowing I had moved on made me happier than anything I could think of with the exception of last night. It was going to be a long two days.
I was eager to see Emerson. In fact, I was positively craving his presence. I had no idea what had come over me. And as selfish as it was to want him with me knowing how serious the situation with his father was, I still wished he hadn’t left.
