Anything for You (Laws of You #3)

Prologue

Emma

Eight Years Ago

“ S top staring at his ass, Emma!”

I whip around and look straight into Molly’s smirking face.

“I wasn’t,” I mumble, feeling my own face heat.

“Oh, you definitely were. You were practically undressing him with your eyes. And who wouldn’t, honestly. Hockey butt. Yum. Anyway, are you sure you’re okay getting home by yourself?”

Leaning against the wall of the ballroom where the Kids Play gala is winding down, I focus on Molly—not at the amazing ass across the room, thank you very much—and sigh inwardly at the look of concern on her face.

“I’ll be fine, Mol. Seriously. Go home with the hot college baseball player who has been following you around like a puppy dog all night.”

She grins at me. “I don’t usually go for younger guys, but he does have a certain golden retriever need to please that I think will serve me well later if you know what I mean.”

She tosses a sultry look over her shoulder at the guy, and he flushes, practically tripping over his own feet while standing completely still.

I smother a laugh. Molly always has this effect on people. I would give a limb for an ounce of her confidence. The unnamable something she has that turns men into puddles right at her feet. If I had it, I might not be a twenty-two-year-old virgin about to go home alone when I’ve spent the last four hours in a room full of athletes.

Like I’m no longer in control of them, my eyes involuntarily drift across the room again.

To him .

Jeremy Wright.

Target of my nearly two-year-long hopeless crush. Former professional hockey player. Executive director of the foundation that hosts the gala we’re attending. Best friend of my friend Julie’s twin brother, Ben. Unintentionally disheveled dark hair. Muscles for days. Consummate flirt. Outgoing and charming on the outside but with deep dark eyes full of secrets I recognize. Secrets that tell me he has seen the same kinds of things that I have. The kinds of things that wake you up in the middle of the night and make you wonder if you’ll ever sleep again.

It would be too much to hope that he senses me looking at him, but for whatever reason, he turns his head at that exact moment and our eyes meet. My breath catches in my throat, and his dark gaze makes my stomach swoop and swirl, and need pools between my legs. He smiles at me and winks, turning back to the group of people he’s talking to, leaving me staring at his back, a montage of images of what it would be like to go home with him playing through my brain like a movie reel.

As if. Get a grip Emma .

Hot, confident, outgoing, former professional athlete playboys do not go home with freckle-faced, red-headed virgins seven years younger than they are.

That’s just facts.

“Okay, well Hallie and Julie are staying at their parents’ houses tonight since they have to pick up some stuff for our trip, so you’ll be home alone too.” Molly’s voice shakes me out of my thoughts. “We’ll all meet at brunch before we head out to the lake.”

The lake is our now annual trip to Julie’s parents’ lake house in Western Maryland. Hallie and Julie and their families have been friends forever, and I met them and Molly last year during our first year of law school. The two-week trip has been their joint family tradition for decades, and Molly and I are now included too.

These are the things I’ve missed out on since my parents died when I was eight. Best friends. Family vacations. Annual traditions. Over the years, I had made a sort of uncomfortable peace with missing out on that part of life, told myself I didn’t need those things. But the truth is, I need them desperately, and I am absurdly grateful to Julie, Hallie, and Molly for the kind of friendships I could only have dreamed about before I met them last year.

“I’ll be there. I promise. Now go. Have sex with the baseball player. Be prepared to share the details. We’re ordering donuts at brunch and you’re telling us a story.”

Molly grins again and wraps her arms around me in a hug. “You know I love a sexy breakfast story. Get home safe, Em.”

I give her a quick squeeze before releasing her.

“Count on it.”

“Shit,” I mutter, staring down at my phone, the rideshare app open on the screen, mocking me.

When I told Molly I’d be fine getting home alone, I didn’t count on everyone else at the gala also trying to get home and the wait for a car being longer than forever. I should have driven myself. I tried to do exactly that, but Julie was adamant that we take a car so we could all drink and not worry about having a designated driver. When Julie makes a declaration, it’s usually easier to go along with it, but my current self is irritated as shit at my past self for agreeing. I’m as introverted as they come, and my social tank is empty.

I need my quiet house, pajamas, and a dark room, as soon as humanly possible.

“You okay, Emma?”

The voice is deep and rumbly, and goosebumps rise on my arms. I take a fortifying breath and I’m glad I did because when I turn, the close up of Jeremy—disheveled dark hair, bow tie untied and hanging around his neck, and top button open—is the hottest thing I have ever seen.

“No cars.” I shrug and hold up my phone. “Probably should have driven here, but Julie insisted we take a car.”

He gives me a knowing grin, gold-rimmed brown eyes sparkling under the lanterns lining the sidewalk. “Usually better to agree when Julie’s in that kind of mood.”

“True story, but it doesn’t seem to be doing me any good now,” I mutter.

“Where are the other girls?”

“Hallie and Julie are sleeping at their parents’ houses tonight, and Molly went home with some Pitt baseball player.”

He chuckles at that. “Well, I’m heading out and I have my car here. I’ll take you home.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.” I’ve spent a lot of time around Jeremy in a group, but rarely ever one on one, and it’s possible being in the confines of his car with him might actually kill me. I mean, it probably won’t kill me, but I will most likely say something stupid that clues him into my crush on him and then I’ll die of embarrassment.

“Emma, I’m not leaving you outside the hotel waiting for a car by yourself this late at night, so either I’ll wait with you for who even knows how long, or you can come with me, and I’ll have you home in fifteen minutes.”

I sigh. I guess this is happening.

“Fine. Thanks, Jeremy.”

“Anytime.” He puts his hand on the small of my back, guiding me down the block to where his Jeep is parked. Warmth spirals out from where he touches me, and butterflies swarm my stomach.

This is going to be one hell of a ride.

Jeremy

I want to trace my fingers over every freckle on her body .

The thought is sudden and uncomfortable, considering the her in question is sitting a foot away from me in the passenger seat, filling the interior of my car with the scent of lilacs. And also, she is the best friend of my best friend Ben’s twin sister. And seven years younger than I am. And that six years removed from the injury that ended my hockey career much too soon, I’m still a miserable asshole and no good for anyone.

She should be off limits to me.

But fuck, Emma Langley, with her flaming hair and quiet voice and eyes that seem far older than her twenty-two years, has intrigued me since I first met her two years ago.

I glance over at her, sitting in the passenger seat with one leg curled underneath her body, elbow resting against the door and chin propped on her hand as she stares out the window. She has barely said a word since we got in the car, and the silence is starting to make me itchy. I’ve never been very good with silence. In silence, my thoughts are far too loud.

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“I did.” Her voice is quiet as she turns her head. Her eyes immediately fall to where my sleeves are rolled up to my elbows and her gaze traces my forearms, up to my untied tie and unbuttoned collar, before finally meeting my gaze. There is a flare of interest in hers, and I feel a dark rush of satisfaction that should be unwelcome but isn’t. My fingers practically twitch on the steering wheel—the need to slide my hand down her thigh and dip under her dress is almost overwhelming. I hate myself a little for the thought, but not enough to stop myself from wondering whether she would be wet for me if I pushed a finger inside her.

“That’s me up there.”

I’m saved from the path of my thoughts by Emma pointing out her house.

“I know, Emma. I’ve been here before.”

“Oh, right,” she says, as I park in front of her house. I push open my door and round the car to open hers. But when I offer her my hand to help her out, she hesitates.

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s late and dark and your friends aren’t home. I’m walking you to your door.”

She looks at me for a beat before taking my hand. Hers is small and soft and fits perfectly in mine. Warmth floods me as our palms slide together, and I try my darndest to shake the feeling away. I’m not a guy who feels much warmth.

When we get to the front door, Emma reaches into her purse for her keys but doesn’t immediately unlock it. Instead, she leans back against it, her green eyes searching mine, giving me the uncomfortable feeling that she sees far more than I show to the world.

“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 me immediately, 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, something to 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 like please and more and harder and don’t stop and on your knees and so fucking good whispered 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 her nakedness. 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.

Emma Langley is a forever kind of girl, and I’m no one’s idea of forever.

“Last night was amazing, Emma. But I’m not looking for anything serious. My life is so chaotic. You know, with the bar and the foundation and everything. It’s better if we call this what it is. Just one night between friends.”

My own words make my chest ache. For a minute, I allow myself to think about what it would be like to crawl back into bed and hold Emma against me. To spend the day learning each other’s bodies. To hear every thought in her fascinating brain and tell her all my secrets. But with something that feels a lot like regret, I let that wish drift away. That kind of connection isn’t for me. I don’t know how to have it, and I definitely don’t know how to keep it. I know I’m hurting her, but better to do it quickly now than slowly over time when she realizes I’m no good for her.

Emma’s face turns stony and her spine snaps straight.

“For fuck’s sake Jeremy, you’re thinking awfully highly of yourself for eight in the morning. I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee or grab lunch. I wasn’t asking for a ring and a white picket fence.”

She reaches out and snatches the sheet off the bed, covering herself. Her red face and jerky movement make me want to reach out and gather her against me. But I’m helpless to do anything other than watch as she tucks the sheet tighter around herself.

Her angry gaze rakes over me.

“You can go now. I don’t want you here anymore.”

The disdain in her voice cuts me to the bone. I grab my clothes and shoes, not bothering to stop and get dressed. But before I leave her bedroom, I turn back and look at her. At her tumbled hair and rosy skin and eyes I could drown in if I let myself. I can’t let myself.

Her mouth opens like she’s about to say something, but she seems to think better of it, shaking her head and slamming her mouth shut. Helpless to come up with any words to fix the mess I’ve made, with one last look at Emma, I leave the brightness of her bedroom.

I dress quickly in the dimly lit hallway and head down the stairs. As I open the front door and it closes behind me with a click, I have the sinking feeling that I’m walking away from something significant. But I don’t know how to stop, and even if I did, I wouldn’t know how to stay.