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“I am.” She breathes in sharply as my finger rubs her clit.
“Eyes on me.” The dazed look across her face is breathtaking.
“Don’t stop.” A whimper rolls off her lips. “So. Good.”
“Watch me, Emery. I’m the one allowing you this pleasure.”
“Only you,” she whispers, and I take this as her admittance of trust.
“I’m giving it to you exactly how I want.” Picking up my pace, a brief wince meets her eyes as I grind upward to take her deep. “I know you’re gonna feel me every time you sit, Daisy Girl.”
“Yes, Ian!” she cries out as her center constricts around me. “Oh, God!” Fuck, she’s tight, and I hold on for a few more rough thrusts. “Ian! Fuck, yes!” Her body arches into me as she reaches her arm behind, grabbing my neck for support.
“You’re mine, Emery.” She tenses, her eyes shooting down to her pussy, avoiding mine. Cupping both her breasts, I let myself go, filling her with everything I have.
She’s still unmoving as I pull out. Falling forward, Emery holds her head against the mirror, catching her breath. Clearing my throat, I place a kiss on her shoulder. I lean forward, caging her in as I clean my hands. My nose skims up her neck as her breathing hitches. “How was that for your reward?”
“I’m not… you––” Emery attempts to forces out a sentence I can predict. I got caught up in the moment, and calling her mine felt so right. It feels right. But she needs to pull herself together and tell me how she feels about it.
Climbing off the counter, Emery walks to her room. I patiently wait as she returns, wearing a sundress. Her jaw is tight, and her eyes slowly meet mine. “You deserve someone healed. Someone who can give you what you need and not keep messing with you and leading you on.” She swallows as I watch tears brim her eyes. With a strong sniff and blink, she pulls herself together. “I don’t know when or if I’ll ever deserve to beyours.”
“I was caught up in the moment. Don’t detach, Emery. I’m here. You’re here and I know you feel something.” There’s a plea in my voice as my heart sinks. “Stay in the moment with me.”
“I can’t detach when there was no attachment to begin with.” We both know she’s lying. “Look, I just need time to process everything. This month has been a lot heavier than I intended. I promise if I do leave, I’ll say goodbye this time.”
“You say if, but it seems like your mind is made up.” She shrugs. “I want to fight for you, but you have to want me just as much. I deserve that too.” I meet her eyes. “You know where to find me.”
“Yeah.” She gently nods, her voice barely audible.
“The choice is yours if you want to keep the armour.” I speak softly, cradling her face in my hands. “But in the end, you and I both know you’ll only be hurting yourself by keeping those walls in place.” I press my lips to her forehead, then linger for a moment at the top of the stairs in case she changes her mind. Without another word, she walks to the bathroom and closes the door, shutting me out.
Finishing the day with much-needed overtime, the last thing I feel like doing is going home to cook. Pulling into the parking lot of The Painted Pony, I realize how little I come to my own place to eat. The staff greets me as I walk through the doors and take a seat at one of the few free booths. The worn leather cushion welcomes me as it has many others over the past sixty years. Fresh beer on tap and our well-known fried chicken hit my senses. My hands lay flat on the smooth wooden table as I glance around. Even though it’s the beginning of the week, this place is still full of locals and tourists.
My eyes track from table to table and roam over the bar area at happy couples. A few older couples are lost in conversation, as if time has stood still for them and only their hair color has aged. The dim lights of this place reflect off the tops of people’s heads, and I find myself hoping to pick up on an auburn-haired woman I want to enjoy life with. To settle down with and have the type of relationship my parents had. Even after my mother’s passing, my father didn’t move on. He had lost the one he vowed his love to and was confident to see her again. I stopped sleeping around because I want to find a love like theirs.
I shouldn’t have fucked Emery today. I’m too far gone with her, and while I sometimes feel like I’ve had a small breakthrough, her guard goes right back up. I’d like to believe things will work out, but we’re running out of time. I order my food and stare at the empty space across from me. My head feels woozy, realizing I haven’t been in this section of the bar, in this particular booth in years. My mind really is elsewhere lately.
“Dad, the only thing you should be eating here is a salad.” We sit in a corner back booth of the rundown dive bar this town should probably close. The owner is too old to care about this place anymore.
“They don’t serve salad. No one pays for that stuff.” He smiles down at his basket of fried chicken and coleslaw. “This is the only salad they serve, and it won’t fill me.”
“But the doctors––”
“Look, Ian. I know my heart attack scared you last year, but I’m getting better.” My father has been so nonchalant about his food choices.
“I was the person who took care of you. We know Amber wasn’t any help.”
“She was busy with a kindergartener.”
“I was busy with her kindergartener. Sophie was by your side most of the time. And still is.” My sister could use a good reality check at some point and step up as a mother.
“Maybe the heart attack was your mother trying to call me to her.” My dad chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. Of course, I don’t approve of his choice of beverage either. “You know we wanted out together. You’re an adult now, and I miss my wife. Would seeing her again be so terrible?”
“I’m not ready to lose you too.”
“Where is that Davis girl you were so smitten with?”
“Okay, we can go back to the other topic again.” I take a big bite of my burger, hoping to buy some time, so he forgets.
