Chapter 8
The next morning, I’m leaning against the railing on the front porch of Riley’s soon-to-be cabin, waiting for her to arrive for our walk-through. It’s in the middle of fucking nowhere, but I have to admit, the place has a charm to it.
The cabin is a little log building, nestled into ten wooded acres. The long gravel drive from a quiet two-lane country road gives it a feeling of seclusion, and the trees block all view of any neighbors. It’s gorgeous right now, the leaves all turning yellow, red and orange. The drive out here was just as nice, rolling hills through the fall colored woods, leaves gently falling all around. If I was the sentimental type, I’d say it was like something out of a fairy tale or some shit.
When I finally hear someone coming up the gravel drive, I glance down at my watch. She’s right on time. As she draws closer, I get a good look at her car.
I’m surprised she’s not stranded on the side of the road somewhere. The thing is a pile. Cracked windshield, long streak of paint missing from the driver’s side like it was side-swiped, big dent in the rear fender. Not to mention the engine is making a terrible knocking sound. She’s crazy if she thinks she’s making this commute every day in that thing.
I’m about to go unlock the front door when she gets out of the vehicle and I pause. Christ, she’s a sight.
She’s wearing a dark blue dress that falls to her knees, with ankle-high boots and a brown blazer. The only skin I can see is her lower legs, but fuck if she isn’t sexy. I can tell from here how smooth her skin is, and I want nothing more than to trail my hands up those calves, onto her thighs, and up under that dress. My dick’s already at half mast like I’m some horny fucking teenager who’s never been past first base with a woman.
I reluctantly peel my eyes away and turn to unlock the front door, adjusting myself in my slacks in the process. Pushing open the door, I turn to find Riley waiting at the top of the porch steps, hands in the hidden pockets of her dress. She completely avoids eye contact as she breezes past me and into the cabin, not even offering a ‘hello’.
Grinning to myself, I follow her inside, close the front door, and lock it–shutting us in together.
The cabin has two levels. The bottom consists of an open space with the kitchen, small dining area, living room and a fireplace. Beyond that, a set of stairs leads up to the loft that is the bedroom and bathroom. The enclosed area under the loft has an additional half bathroom, utility and laundry room, and a large pantry. The place itself is in excellent condition, and Tracy had only negotiated for a handful of repair items.
As if reading my mind, Riley finally breaks the silence. “They were supposed to replace the hot water heater and bathroom door.”
She disappears into the utility room and I follow, saying, “They sent the receipts over for the repair work last week.” Peeking inside, I spot the new water heater.
Riley pulls on the metal chain hanging from the single light bulb in the utility room ceiling, throwing the room into darkness, before brushing past me on her way out. I catch a soft, fruity smell as she passes me, and I can’t help but wonder if she tastes as sweet as she smells.
Tension rolls off her, thick and suffocating, as she makes her way over to the staircase. She’s avoiding me even more than usual, and I have the sinking suspicion it has to do with the fact that she masturbated to thoughts of me after my visit on Saturday. The idea gives me great satisfaction, a hum pulsating through me with the knowledge.
I follow her up the stairs, eyes trailing her ass as she ascends. Even in the loose, flowy material of her dress, I can see how perfectly round her ass is.
When we reach the top of the stairs, she makes a beeline for the bathroom and I lean against the railing of the loft, blocking her only exit. This whole avoidance thing she’s trying to do right now? It’s cute, it really is, but it’s not going to work.
When she emerges from the bathroom, she does a quick scan of the room, then pauses when she sees me against the railing. She visibly swallows before she says, “So I guess everything looks okay? Do we just show up to closing tomorrow?”
Pushing off the railing, I step into her space. I forgot how small she is, her head barely reaching my shoulders. Her long, dark hair falls in waves down her back, and I reach out to touch it. It’s so damn soft, I can’t help but run my fingers through it. When my eyes find Riley’s face again, she’s barely breathing, her cheeks pink.
I pull my hand back to run my fingers through her locks again, but this time, when I reach the back of her head, I fist my hand, gently tugging her head back. She looks up at me with a mix of trepidation and fear in her eyes, and fuck if it doesn’t make me hard. This innocent, timid little thing, at my complete mercy. My other hand makes its way to the side of her neck, and I can feel her pulse hammering beneath her skin.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.
I tug her into my chest and drop both hands to her waist. Bringing my mouth to her ear, I murmur, “You look stunning today, Riley.”
She immediately tenses up, and I take the opportunity to brush my lips against the spot just below her ear. A strained sound leaves her throat at the contact, and the corner of my mouth tips up. As I move my lips to her jaw, her hands come up and she shoves hard into my chest, pushing me off balance.
My timid girl does have a little fight in her, after all.
A low growl rumbles in my chest as I step forward and grab her shoulders, turning her around and pushing her into the loft railing. She squirms as I grip the railing on either side of her, my hips grinding into her ass, wedging her in place. I recognize the second she feels how hard my dick is, because she freezes, hands gripping the railing next to mine so tight that her knuckles are white.
“Emmett… stop. This isn’t appropriate,” she squeaks out.
Like I give a fuck about being appropriate. She’s consumed my thoughts since I laid eyes on her. I’ve jacked off to thoughts of her more times than I’d like to admit the last few days. She’s like a fucking drug, and I became an addict after one hit.
Ignoring her protest, I slip my hand under her dress and run it up the back of her thigh. Her skin is so perfectly smooth and soft. All I want is to run my tongue over every inch of it, savoring it.
When my knuckles graze the bottom of her ass, her breath catches and she squirms against me, grinding into my cock again.
“I think you like this,” I tease, as my hand moves over her ass to the top of her thong. I grab the fabric, tugging up on it just enough to put friction against her pussy and ass.
She lets out a startled shriek, the sound going straight to my dick. My blood pulses through my body with a need for more of her. I run my hand back over her ass, then slip my fingers between her legs, smiling at the damp fabric I find there.
Slowly, I trail my fingers along the length of her slit, her desire increasingly obvious through the thin material of her thong. She pushes her ass into me, letting out a soft moan when I briefly brush over her clit. It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to tear into her and fuck her over this railing. With any other woman I would have.
But Riley? I have bigger plans for her. This isn’t about sex–at least not today. This is about showing her who has control. Who owns her now. Every whimper is mine. Every roll of her hips is mine. Every soft moan and shudder and catch of breath is mine. It’s time for her to start learning who she belongs to now.
Pulling her underwear to the side, I slide my fingers through her slick folds and let out a groan. She’s fucking soaked. I gather the wetness between her legs and slide my fingers up to her clit, spreading her juices around as I slowly start circling it.
“Emmett…” she whimpers, her hips rolling against my hand, desperate for more.
“You want me to fuck you with my fingers, baby?” I ask against her ear, my voice like gravel as I fight with my self-control.
I don’t wait for a response, instead trailing my fingers lower. I circle her entrance, teasing. Her breathing is heavy, and she leans her head back against my shoulder, her eyes closed. Fuck if it isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, her giving into the pleasure. Relinquishing control to me.
Just as I’m about to insert a finger, there’s a loud click from the front door unlocking.
Riley jerks up straight and jumps out of my grasp. I don’t even have time to react before someone pushes through the front door.
“Sorry to interrupt,” a young blonde woman says, moving into the living area as she stares up at us. “I tried calling you, Emmett, but the sellers are on their way over to get the last of the items out of the shed in back.”
She must be the listing agent. I saw her name on the paperwork, but can’t remember what it was. And I honestly don’t give a fuck at the moment. I’m more preoccupied with the fact that Riley is bolting for the door, when seconds ago, I was about to slip my fingers into her cunt.
She’s already at the bottom of the stairs when I say, “My phone’s in the car. We were just finishing up. We’ll be out of your way shortly.”
Riley practically runs out the front door, barely giving a nod to the other agent as she passes by. My girl’s probably hoping she can make it to her car and down the driveway before I get to her.
I make my way down the stairs and into the living space, acutely aware of the slippery mess on my fingers. When the other agent approaches with her hand outstretched and a flirty smile on her face, I can’t help the shit-eating grin I plaster on my own. I grab her hand in a firm shake, the evidence of Riley’s arousal smearing on the other woman”s fingers.
Her hand jolts back at the contact. She rubs the wetness around on her fingers, a slight wrinkle in her brow, as if trying to figure out what the substance is.
“Sorry, was messing with the sink in the bathroom. The well water out here is shit,” I tell her. “It’s got a slimy feel to it.”
The other woman looks from her hand to me and forces a fake smile back onto her face. She’s not buying the lie one bit, but she doesn’t want to let her mind wander to what the slick substance might actually be.
Giving her a small nod, I make my way back to the front porch just as Riley opens her car door. Her cheeks are red, and she shoots daggers at me with her eyes as I approach.
“Don’t you want to finish?” I ask with a smirk as she gets into her car. I grab the door, holding it open and preventing her from fleeing.
Her mouth drops open, eyes momentarily wide with shock, but then she recovers. “Fuck you, Emmett,” she spits, her voice laced with so much hatred that I can’t help the rumble of laughter in my chest.
“The walk-through, Riley. We should finish the walk-through.”
She glares at me, fire burning in those beautiful brown eyes. “I trust you can handle the rest of it.”
Yanking the car door from my grasp, she slams it shut. I step back and watch as she reverses and turns around, spitting gravel and dust behind her as she takes off down the road.
When her car is out of sight, I head back toward the house, doing a thorough sweep around the outside and a quick peek in the storage shed out back. I make another round inside, then head to my car, satisfied that everything is in the condition it’s supposed to be for closing tomorrow.
Her house hasn’t even disappeared from my rearview mirror when my thoughts return to her. And I can’t help but think how fun it will be getting Riley Miles to surrender to me.
I fight the tears that threaten to break free the entire drive back to my apartment. My hands ache from gripping the steering wheel so hard and my entire body is tense. I feel so many things and nothing all at once, and it causes an ache to bloom in my chest.
The entire time Emmett was touching me back at the cabin, my mind was screaming to stop him, to fight him, to fucking do whatever I needed to do to get him off of me. The sense of panic and dread at being so close to someone, to having their hands that close to my throat, their voice so close to my ear, had almost sent me spiraling again.
Almost.
But my body had responded with a fervor like I’ve never experienced before. And when I felt the weight of him at my back, pushing against me, his hands lighting a fire across my skin; that panic and dread started to fade, instead replaced with longing.
Longing to feel close to someone. Longing to feel safe with someone. Longing to feel intimate with someone.
But it was wrong. So, so wrong. Emmett is not that someone. Shouldn’t be that someone. The red flags waving around him should have me running for the hills and never looking back.
Shame starts to replace the ache in my chest. I barely even know Emmett, and I practically let him finger bang me. My plan for this morning had been to get in, get out, and avoid him as much as possible. But instead, my traitorous pussy welcomed him with open arms.
I shift in my seat, my thong uncomfortably wet.
I haven’t been intimate with anyone since Trevor. I tried opening myself up once before, shortly after I had left him, and it ended with me having a panic attack when the guy tried to kiss me. I felt bad afterwards, but I couldn’t help that automatic response of my body to run, run, run.
But when Emmett touched me up in that loft, when he ran his fingers through my hair and grabbed my neck, it was different. It was like I was two different people experiencing one event. Half of me begging for it to stop, the other half craving more.
And now here I sit, with soaked panties and endless confusion over how I responded. Letting out a sigh, I shift in my seat again, then swing toward the grocery store before heading home. I’m not ready to go back to my empty apartment to stew in my thoughts.
Pulling into the nearest parking space, I turn off my vehicle, and do a quick count to twenty, tapping my fingers and taking deep breaths until I’m centered enough to head into the store.
I grab a shopping cart, making a mental list of what I need: Gatorade, snacks to hold me over while packing and unpacking, cleaning supplies so I can deep clean the apartment once it’s empty–no way am I losing any of my security deposit for not cleaning enough.
I’m making my way across the front of the store toward the drink section when I see Jeremy in his office. I hesitate, then before I can think better of it, I change directions and head toward him. I hate what I’m about to ask, but I need something to take my mind off Emmett, and I still need help moving my furniture.
His office is small, barely bigger than a closet, and tucked up near the pharmacy. He’s peering intently at his computer when I knock softly on the door frame, and I start to feel bad for interrupting him when he’s busy. When looks up though, his eyes soften when he sees that it’s me, and I feel less guilty about disturbing him.
“Hey, Jeremy,” I say, giving an awkward little wave from the door. “Do you have a few minutes?”
He leans back in his chair, immediately giving me a smile. “Always. What’s up? Aren’t you usually working right now?”
“Yeah.” I invite myself in, sitting in one of the chairs opposite his desk. “I had the final walk-through for my new place this morning. Closing tomorrow.”
“Well, in that case, congratulations.” He flashes me that charming grin he has, the one that brings out his dimple. It instantly makes my chest feel a little lighter.
“Thanks,” I say. “It’s been a long time coming.”
Jeremy is the opposite of Emmett in every way. He’s the bright to Emmett’s dark. The light to his heavy. And I suddenly wonder why the hell I refused to take him up on his offer to grab coffee for so long. It makes me feel even guiltier that I’m about to ask him such a big favor.
“Listen,” I start saying. “I really hate to even ask—”
He cuts me off. “Just ask, Riley. Trust me, I don’t mind.”
I look at my lap and fidget with my hands. “Will you help me move my furniture?” It comes out in a rush.
“That’s what you were so nervous to ask me?” He laughs. “Of course I’ll help. Do you want to start moving things tonight? Or wait until you”re officially closed?”
“Oh. Ummm,” I pause, trying to decide how I want to do this. I didn’t think he’d actually agree. “I still have to get a U-Haul, so maybe tomorrow would be better?”
He waves me off. “I’ve got a truck and trailer I can bring by. Don’t worry about the U-Haul.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, not wanting to take up too much of his time.
“Yeah, forget the rental. I’ll bring my trailer over tomorrow after work and we can load everything up. Do you work Friday?” I shake my head. “We can drive everything out to your new place Friday morning, then.”
Taken aback by his generosity, I stumble over my words. “Th-thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”
The corner of his mouth tips up. “It’s not entirely for selfless reasons. This way, I can spend some time with you outside the store before your housewarming party.”
I don’t have to force the smile that lights up my face when I say, “It’s a date.”
He returns the smile, and I turn to leave his office. Grabbing my cart, I can’t help the good feeling thrumming through my body as I get everything I need from the store.
I’m still in a good mood when I swing by the hardware store to get some packing tape and boxes, and I find myself flitting around my apartment with excitement when I start packing later that afternoon.
I’ve just packed up the last of my closet when I decide to call it quits for the night. I tear into some of the jerky and Pringles I had purchased earlier–a sorry excuse for dinner–and plop down on the couch. It’s then, once I don’t have the distraction of Jeremy or packing anymore, that my mind wanders back to this morning with Emmett.
Determined not to slip back into that confusing spiral, I pull out my phone, sending Jeremy a quick text so he has my address for tomorrow. His reply is immediate.
Jeremy the Hot Grocery Guy:Thanks, I’ll be there at 6:00. Sleep tight, pretty girl
I smile. Maybe forgetting about Emmett will be easier than I thought.