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“Emma, stop. I was kidding.”
“No.” She lifted her leg, trying to hook it over my hip. “We’ve got time.”
I glanced at the kitchen clock. “Barely.”
We’d been literally on our way out the door, heading to the Cooper’s for family dinner, when I’d made some sort of joke about how we should stay home and fuck instead. I’d followed it up by grabbing Emma’s ass as she went to open the front door.
She’d turned back, laughing, so I’d kissed her. Now here we were, her fingers buried in my hair, dragging my head down, suddenly desperate to fuck. Like, absolutely nothing in the world was going to stop her.
As I kissed her hungrily, I tried not to think about what it meant, because this was the third time this had happened since I’d woken the other night from that terrible nightmare. We’d had lots of sex since then, of course, but this edgy, needy sex was new. I didn’t know what else to do but give into it, give her whatever it was she was trying to get from me.
Hooking my hand over her leg, I lifted it higher, so I could grind my hard cock against her.
“God, yes,” she gasped, “just like that.” Then she was pushing me back, gripping my shirt so she could pull it off, undoing the button of my jeans, so she could shove her hand inside and wrap her fingers around me. The moan she let out as she moved her hand up and down on me flew over my skin and her urgency made me hotter and harder. I was suddenly desperate to get my hands on her bare skin, cursing with frustration when I fumbled at the buttons of her shirt.
“Fuck it.” I ripped her shirt open, undid her bra and palmed her breasts. Her nipples were already hard, and she cried out when I flicked my thumbs across them.
“God, I need…”
“Tell me what you need,” I growled.
“Your cock,” she wailed. “Inside me. Right now.”
Foreplay was officially over. I pushed her jeans down, backing up enough that she could take her shoes and then her jeans all the way off. She barely had them off before she was reaching for me, kissing me ferociously. I wasted no time at all, cupping her ass and lifting her, pressing her hard against the door and slamming into her.
She cried out, gripping my hair hard enough that it hurt, which only drove me crazier. Groaning at how tight and wet she was, I pounded into her over and over, her ragged, labored breathing music to my ears. I felt the first fluttering of her orgasm around my cock, so I fucked her harder still, because that was what she seemed to need. Her nails scratched down my back when she came and I let go, jerking against her as I peaked.
“Jesus, Emma,” I said when I had caught my breath and could finally talk again. She didn’t look at me as I lowered her to the floor and stepped away.
Scooping up her clothes, she said, “I need to grab a new shirt. Won’t be a sec.”
“No problem.”
I watched her go, wondering what the fuck was going on with her. She took a bit longer than I expected getting changed, but when she came back, she met my gaze openly and even smiled. Okay, so whatever had fired her up so much had passed. “Let’s go.”
We were late getting to Ellen and Bruce’s, of course, and everyone was already piled into the kitchen watching Zara, Ally and Jesse making pasta. There was nowhere for us to sit, until Lucy shuffled along the bench seat in the corner and patted the spot next to her. I squeezed into it and pulled Emma into my lap, wrapping my arms around her waist.
Matt handed us sodas and we settled in to watch the supremely entertaining show that was Zara and Ally cooking together. I nodded at my brother, standing at the back of the kitchen, hands in his pockets.
By the looks of the kitchen, they’d been going at it for a while. There were lengths of pasta drying on every available space from which they could be hung; from the suspended saucepan rack above the island bench, to broomsticks balanced between countertops, to clothes drying racks. And there was still more to come, by the looks of it.
Like any big, loving family, there was lots of chatter and laughter, along with some playful banter. Emma, of course, slotted in like she belonged there.
“Hey, Em, you wanna give us a hand with this?” Ally held up her flour coated hands, gesturing to the mess that was the island bench. “We could do with an expert over here.”
“Hell no! We want to be able to eat it, don’t we? I’ll take care of clean-up after.”
“Come on, Emma, you’re not that bad,” Ellen chimed in. “Remember when you made that cherry pie?” Her eyes were twinkling.
“Would that be the cherry pie that I added salt to, instead of sugar? Is that the cherry pie you mean, Ellen Cooper?”
Chuckling, Ellen said, “An honest mistake. It could happen to anyone.”
“Yeah, well, it seems to happen to me a heck of a lot, so it’s best if I just stay over here, out of the way.”
“Fair enough. It suits you.”
All heads turned to us, and everyone smiled. Us. Me and Emma. That’s what Ellen meant. Time was when me and Emma together at Cooper family gatherings was par for the course. But was it my imagination or did Emma just tense a little? She’d had her hands over mine but she pulled them away, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. A perfectly natural movement, really, but if I added it to how intense she was being about the sex, it made me wonder.
