“Thanks for driving me home,” she says, voice low. “I’d probably still be waiting for a car if you hadn’t.”
“Anytime, Emma.”
Silence falls between us again. Emma’s chest rises and falls rapidly, and we seem to draw a little closer together with each breath. When her gaze drops to my lips and then back up to meet mine, the open interest on her face is unmistakable.
I should turn around and walk straight to my car. I should go home and relieve the tension coiling in my belly with my hand under the hot spray of my shower. I should go to a bar and find a woman who doesn’t matter and whose name I won’t remember in the morning. A woman who knows that what she’ll get from me is sex and only sex. Someone who won’t ask for more and won’t expect anything but the nothing I’m capable of giving.
I should do anything but what I actually do, which is close the remaining distance between us, slide an arm around her waist, and lay my lips on hers.
The sound she makes is a mixture of shock and arousal, and it goes straight to my dick. Tangling my free hand in her hair to anchor her mouth to mine, I slide my tongue along the seam of her lips, and she doesn’t make me wait. She opens for meimmediately, and I dive inside, slicking my tongue against hers, my senses flooded with her taste and scent and the feel of her arms around me.
My brain is telling me this is wrong. It’s sounding the alarm and screaming at me to abort the mission.
Ben will be disappointed. The girls will be furious. I’ll hate myself in the morning. Emma will probably hate me too.
But her hair is soft, and her lips are warm, and the sultry night air wraps itself around us as my mouth covers hers, and the world feels simple, and my demons are at rest. She presses her hips against me and lets out a whimper when she feels me hard against her stomach, and suddenly, nothing else seems to matter.
Reaching down, I boost Emma up with both hands. When she wraps her legs around me and my cock settles against her hot core, I tear my mouth from hers, drifting my lips down her jaw and over her collarbone, sliding my tongue along the hollow of her throat, and licking a path up her neck to suck at the delicate skin behind her ear.
“Take me inside, Jeremy,” Emma pants breathlessly in my ear. “To bed. Take me to bed.”
I shouldn’t. I absolutely should not do this. This is a huge fucking mistake and I’m going to stop any second now. I swear. Except then she grinds against me, and I groan against her throat as pleasure shoots up my spine.
“Give me your keys,” I grit out.
She hands them over, and as I blindly try to fit the key in the lock, she nips at my earlobe then sucks it into her mouth, and holy Jesus Christ, it’s like a direct line straight to my dick. I let out a noise of victory as the lock finally clicks open. Carrying Emma over the threshold, I drop the keys to the floor and kick the door shut behind us.
I groan at the bright summer sun shining through the windows. Flinging out an arm, I search for a pillow, a blanket,somethingto shove my head under to hide from the light. But instead of finding the cool cotton of sheets, my hand finds skin. Warm, silky-smooth skin dotted with a constellation of freckles I traced with my tongue. Fiery red hair that I now know looks amazing wrapped around my fist.
Emma.
Memories of last night slam into me like a truck driving at full speed. Rolling on Emma’s bed with legs and arms intertwined. Words likepleaseandmoreandharderanddon’t stopandon your kneesandso fucking goodwhispered and moaned and screamed into the darkness of her bedroom. And she wasn’t the only one begging.
The best sex I’ve ever had, with the one person I absolutely should not have had it with.
While I watch, Emma stirs and her eyes flutter open, looking straight into mine. I don’t know what I’m expecting from her, but it isn’t a bright smile. It isn’t her lifting her head to press her lips against mine. It isn’t her hand cupping my cheek and tracing a path down my jaw with her fingers, leaving a trail of tingles in their wake. It isn’t her gliding her hand down my neck to settle over my heart. It definitely isn’t the way I don’t hate any of that and the way I want to lean into her touch. And it isn’t her being the first to speak.
“Morning, Jeremy.” She sits up, the sheet pooling around her waist, perfect tits on display, obviously unashamed of hernakedness. And with a body like that, who would be? Her voice is brighter than the sunshine beaming through the windows.
“Morning, Emma,” I croak, the heaviness of what we did already weighing on my shoulders.
“Last night was fun, right?” she asks with a grin that could light the room.
“It was.”
Dread pools in my stomach.
“We could…” She trails off as her hand slides down my stomach.
Before she can reach my dick, I spring out of bed like she just lit me on fire. I grab my boxers off the floor, shoving my legs into them.
“I have a lot to do today. You know. Post-gala stuff. I should probably get to it.”
“Oh, okay. Maybe I can see you later?”
Motherfucker.
Her smile cuts me right to the bone. Cold sweat drips down my spine, and shame settles over me like a weighted blanket because the harsh light of day is a spotlight on all the thoughts I was able to shove away in the dark of night with Emma’s lips on mine and my body pressed to hers.
