Page 71 of Take It Offline
“Was this house designed to be a maze?” I ask as we turn down another hallway. “Are you keeping lost boys in your basement?”
The little mansion that could is huge but as empty as Logan’s personality. I’ve got to admit, I was expecting more, and not just because of the name. Emma’s mom seemed right at home in the middle of the chaos, and her dad was cool in an odd sort of way.
Reese would go apeshit over that stache.
It makes no sense that the house has no personality.
Though, as we venture deeper, there are small signs of life. A pair of reading glasses, a mug left out, something fuzzy hanging off the back of a chair.
Someone definitely lives here. They just… do it sparsely.
Maybe it’s some new minimalism trend. Maybe that mug cost $150 and the blanket is Balenciaga.
Rich people are odd. What the hell else is new?
“You asked to see the wine cellar,” Emma teases, shooting me a look over her shoulder. “It would have been easier to go through the kitchen, but this way is quieter. How else would I sneak around with boys without my parents finding out?”
“Naughty girl.”
I fucking love the way she blushes.
“Right here,” she says, andfinally, a door and a staircase later, we’re alone.
Just Emma, me, and about four hundred bottles of wine.
“Do you really think he’s jealous?” she asks.
Logan is the last thing I want to talk about. I cage her gorgeous body against the shelves. “Yes. Now keep quiet.”
She looks incredible. Every curve kissed in liquid green silk as deep as wet moss.
She’s a fucking eyeful and lethal as anything with those gorgeous tits on display.
Dropping to my knees, I thank whoever designed this dress for the easy access slit and waste no time getting my mouth on her, tonguing through the lace of her underwear.
Fuck Logan. I’m going to obliterate every other lover from her memory.
Her hips jerk when I suck on her clit, and I skate my teeth over the sensitive spot just to hear her moan louder. It’s music to my ears. She drops her hands to my shoulders, and fuck, I’m desperate to have her rake her nails across my skin. But she’s holding back, her fingers flexing tentatively.
I pull off, admiring how soaked her panties are.
Fucking gorgeous.
“Touch me, Emma,” I say, peering up at her. Fuck, she makes me want to live on my knees. “The way you’ve been eyeing me all night, you can’t pretend you don’t want to get your claws in.”
Her chest is heaving, nipples peaked and straining against her dress. She smiles, her eyes heavy-lidded. “Anyone would think you want me to hurt you.”
I lick a line up her pussy, and she moans.
“Only one way to find out.”
Fuck, she tastes amazing. I’ve been dreaming of this since last time. The way her hips moved, how she teased and circled her clit. I copy every move with my tongue.
Her thighs quiver under my palms, but her hands still lie weak on my shoulders. So I take a chance and scrape my teeth against her.
Emma grinds against me with a sharp whine, and finally, finally, she digs her hands into my hair and grips.
“Fuck, Charlie. More. Please.”
