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“I wonder if you have any idea how much I want you. How tormented I am by the memories of how fucking good it used to be between us.”
I could have cried with disappointment when his hand left my breast, until I felt him trail it down my stomach, toward the button of my jeans.
“And I wonder if you still want me, too.” His hand stopped moving, and I knew what he was doing. Giving me a chance to stop him.
Not on your freaking life.
With a savage grin, he undid the button of my jeans, pushed them down enough to give him access. “I wonder if I can still make you wet.” He pushed his hand down inside my underwear, between my legs, finding my clit with shocking ease. His eyes went dark and stormy and he said, “Mmm, soaking.”
My knees almost gave way when he rubbed a light circle over my clit. Such a small touch, to have such an explosive effect.
“I wonder if you still make that sound in the back of your throat, when you’re trying to come quietly.”
That reminded me that everyone was still out there, on the deck, laughing and chatting. The sound filtering through to me somehow made this interlude all the hotter.
“One last thing. I wonder if you still look so beautiful when your eyes go blind and you fall to pieces at my touch. Do you want that, Em? Do you want to show me? Do you want me to make you come right now?” He moved his hand more insistently. As if I could say no.
“Yesss,” I hissed.
Sliding his other hand through my hair, he gripped it, tilting my head up so he could watch my face. I couldn’t take my eyes from his as he moved his hand on me, harder, faster, and moaned softly when he pushed a finger inside me, his palm hitting my clit so perfectly that the two sensations together sent me over the edge.
My knees went to jelly and I gripped his shirt in tight fists, drowning in his dark and feverish gaze as I convulsed, swallowing the sob of pleasure that had threatened to escape me. Spent, I dropped my forehead to his chest, felt him press a kiss into my hair, wrap his arms around me and pull me close.
“What noise?” I asked, when I finally had my breath back.
“Mmm?”
“What noise do I make when I’m trying to come quietly?” I felt the reverberation of his answering chuckle all the way down to my toes and it made me smile.
Lifting my head a moment later, my smiled faded when I saw the precise moment he retreated. I wanted to scream,Don’t do that!But it was exactly the right thing for him to do. I should not have followed him in here or baited him like I had. This was getting out of control. Without a word I pushed against his chest, and when he stepped back, I opened the bedroom door and slipped out.
I scurried into the main bathroom, hastily locking the door. My hands were shaking as I straightened my clothes, and I had a hard time doing up the buttons on my shirt. The need to cry almost overwhelmed me and I couldn’t even say exactly what the tears would be for. I held them back either way. Lucy, if nobody else, would notice if I came back out with a tear-stained face.
Fuck, she’d already probably noticed something was going on, anyway. With my back to the door, I slid to the floor, wrapped my arms around my knees and dropped my head to them. What the fuck was I going to do now? How could we go back to the uneasy truce we’d finally managed to broker?
CHAPTER13
Jake
Fuck. Over a dozen chaperones out on my deck, and I’d still found a way to do the unthinkable. The unforgivable. I closed the door after Emma left, resting my forehead against it. I had a raging hardon and a gut full of remorse. The combination made me want to throw up. Christ, she was so incredibly gorgeous, and the way she looked when she came undone for me in ways I’d fantasized about for weeks… But it had to stop. There was nowhere for this to go. No promises I could make to Emma. Nothing worthwhile I could offer her. It would be much better for her if I left town, but where would I go? My whole life was here.
An overwhelming urge to bolt to the kitchen, rip the top off a beer bottle, and guzzle it down in one swallow hit me. No. I’d managed to stay sober for so long now, the last thing I needed was my feelings for Emma undoing all of that hard work. Fuck. I pushed my fingers through my hair, pacing around my bedroom, my agitation building.
I wanted to do the right thing, but in the whirlwind of emotions pummelling me, I couldn’t figure out exactly what that was. One way or another, though, this had to stop. That’s all there was to it. I’d already proven I wasn’t good for Emma once before and nothing had happened since then to change that. I needed to cut her loose. I rubbed at my chest, because just the merest whisper of that idea made my heart hurt. I’d done it before, though, and I could do it again. Sure I could.
There didn’t even need to be any ugly words between us. All I had to do was take it back to how it had been just a few weeks before. We could just go back to avoiding each other. That was the best solution. I’d just ignore her. Ignore the screaming need I had to pull her into my arms, to kiss her, to claim her—
No! She needed more than me, better than me.
Moving into the bathroom, I splashed water onto my face and caught sight of myself in the mirror as I was towelling my face dry.You’re an asshole, you do realize that.But I was the asshole that had loved Emma Carter for half my life. And because I loved her, I’d do what needed to be done, even if it killed me. With that resolve firmly fixed in my mind, I drew a few deep, calming breaths and headed back out to the deck.
Emma was already there and I noticed that she didn’t look at me once, not even the littlest sideways glance. Good. That was definitely for the best.
* * *
Unfortunately, as it turned out, ignoring Emma was a lot harder than I’d imagined. Mainly because she lived rent free in my goddamn head 24/7. It didn’t matter what I was doing, she was there. Her smile, her scent, the way she looked and sounded when her body shattered for me. All of it.
I didn’t bail on cleaning up her dad’s yard, but I made Gabe do any talking that needed doing. I knew he thought it was weird, especially since I’d been the one to initiate the work in the first place, but he didn’t ask any questions. As for Emma, she stayed inside the house. Didn’t even offer us coffee. Which was fine by me.
