16. Sixteen
Sixteen
Sam
The morning light filters through the windows as I sprawl on the couch, one leg stretched out, nursing my second cup of coffee while the ocean hums softly in the background. It’s been a week since we moved into the beach house, and life feels good.
Emily is in the kitchen, humming a silly tune I don’t recognize as she waters one of the many plants she’s somehow accumulated in the past few days. They’re everywhere—on the porch, hanging from hooks by the windows, even on the bathroom counter.
“You’re turning this place into a greenhouse,” I tell her, watching as she leans over to adjust a fern on the windowsill.
She glances at me, one brow arched. “They make it feel homey.”
“It already is homey,” I argue, though the truth is, I like the plants. They soften the sharp edges of the house, adding a bit of warmth and greenery that I didn’t realize it needed.
“You like them.” Emily boasts, her eyes sparkling. “You just act like you don’t because you know I’m right.”
I shake my head, grinning. “You’re cute when you’re cheeky.”
“And you’re welcome,” she quips, bending over to tend to yet another of her plants.
My eyes rake appreciatively over her lush curves.
Over the past week, we’ve learned a lot about each other—things we didn’t know or never took the time to notice before. Not just how to please each other in bed—which has been great. But other stuff, like the fact that she talks to her plants as she waters them, whispering encouragement like they’re new friends. Or how she has a knack for finding the perfect spot for everything, from the throw pillows on the couch to the framed pictures she’s hung in the hallway.
It’s little stuff, but it makes the house feel less like a rental and more like ours. It also feels like a real marriage—a normal one.
We’ve fallen into an easy rhythm, an unspoken routine that feels natural. Mornings start with coffee for me and tea for her on the deck, the ocean breeze ruffling our hair as we talk about everything and nothing. Afternoons are spent lazily walking the beach, my hat pulled low and sunglasses firmly in place to keep from being recognized. So far, the reporters haven’t figured out where we are, and I’m not in any rush to give them a clue.
Emily walks into the living room and sits down beside me.
“Can I ask you something?” I say, leaning back against the couch.
“Of course,” she replies, tucking a dark strand of hair behind her ear.
“What did your parents say... about us?”
She blinks, clearly caught off guard.
“When you told them about the baby and… us,” I clarify.
She hesitates for a moment, then exhales, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “I called them while we were at your dad’s farm,” she admits. “I wanted them to hear it from me first.”
“What did they say?”
She smiles faintly, but there’s a hint of nervousness in her eyes. “They were surprised, obviously. I mean, how do you not react to news like that?”
“Fair,” I say, nodding. “But were they... okay with it?”
Her smile softens, and she reaches for my hand, threading her fingers through mine. “Yeah, they were. They’re still wrapping their heads around it, but they’re happy for us and the baby.”
Relief washes over me, and I squeeze her hand. “That’s good to hear. I was worried they’d be upset or something.”
“They’re not,” she assures me. “Though I’m sure they’ll have plenty of questions when we see them in person.”
“Speaking of which,” I say, tilting my head, “should we invite them up here? Or maybe go see them?”
“They’re overseas right now,” she explains. “On one of their long trips. But I invited them to dinner when they get back.”
“Dinner, huh?” I say with a grimace. “Should I be nervous?”
She laughs, the sound lightening the air around us. “Probably. My dad used to interrogate all of my dates.”
“Great,” I say, groaning. “Can’t wait.”
After dinner, the air is warm but not too hot, the kind of weather that begs for a walk along the shore. Emily’s waiting by the door when I exit the bedroom. She’s wearing a loose sundress and sandals with her hair pulled back in a messy bun. Just seeing her like that makes my heart race and my cock harden.
“Ready?” she asks, her smile bright and easy.
Clearing my throat, I grab my hat and sunglasses, nodding. “Let’s go.”
The beach is quiet at this time of day, and the waves lap gently against the sand. Emily walks beside me, her steps light and unhurried, her gaze fixed on the horizon.
“You’re quiet,” I say, giving her a sideways glance.
“Yeah, I’m just surprised…” She returns my glance, her smile wistful. “At how nice this all feels. How normal.”
Normal. The word hangs between us, heavy with meaning. This is the longest either of us has gone without arguing or pushing the other’s buttons. We’re both wondering when the other shoe will drop.
“Yeah,” I say, reaching out to gently hold her hand, “it does.”
For a while, we walk in comfortable silence. The only sounds are the waves' soft rush and the occasional seagull cry.
We stop near a sand dune, the tide pooling around our feet. Emily bends down to examine a small shell, holding it up to the light.
“Beautiful,” she murmurs in appreciation.
I watch her, noticing the way the sunlight catches in her hair and the soft curve of her smile, and feel a strange ache in my chest.
“Yeah, beautiful,” I say before I can stop myself, my eyes never leaving her face.
She looks up, her blue eyes wide, when she catches me staring.
“Sam...”
I shrug, trying to play it off. “You’re beautiful, Em.”
Her cheeks flush, and she looks away, but I catch the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips and the way her breath catches.
The walk back is slower, charged with an energy that wasn't there before. By the time we reach the house, the setting sun paints everything in gold, including Emily's flushed cheeks and bright eyes. When she turns to me, there's something in her expression that makes my heart stutter—trust, maybe, or something deeper that neither of us is ready to name yet.
Emily heads inside, and I follow right behind her. As soon as I close the glass sliding doors, I reach for her. As her hands go around my neck, I lower us both to the floor, too impatient to even make it to the nearby couch.
She doesn’t seem to mind as I quickly cover her soft lips in an urgent kiss. As I ravish her sweet mouth, my hands pull up the skirt of her sundress. I make quick work of taking off her panties—throwing them over my shoulder. Untying my board shorts, my eager cock springs free, “You ready for me, Em?”
Barely giving her time to nod, I surge into her—only stopping once I’m firmly embedded inside her warmth. “Damn, you feel good,” I groan out. Looking down at her beautiful face just as her eyes flutter shut, her lips parted.
I feel her hands tighten their hold on my hair as she whispers, “Don’t you dare stop now, Ryder.”
Grinning, I mutter, “I have no intention of stopping… Boss Lady.” Then I laugh as she pulls on my hair at the nickname.
Setting a grueling rhythm, I’m good at my word and don’t stop until she’s writhing beneath me, then calling out my name as her orgasm comes quickly. My release takes me next. Afterward, I adjust my weight to the side of her, pulling her close.
Once our breathing normalizes, we’re both too lazy to move and just lie there on the floor, my arm around her waist as she uses my shoulder as a pillow. Emily looks out over the deck, catching a glimpse of the ocean waves through the wooden railing as they continue to roll in. At the same time, my eyes remain on her—the softness of her eyes, the flush on her cheeks. She’s so freaking lovely.
“I can feel your eyes on me, Sam,” she says as she cocks an eyebrow.
Sliding a hand up her thigh, only stopping when it covers her bare ass, I say huskily, “Is that all you feel, Cupcake?”
She pulls slightly away from me, just enough that I can see the exasperation in her gaze. “I don’t let your nicknames bother me anymore,” she says in a haughty tone.
“Good to know, Boss Lady,” I whisper deliberately, pulling her back into my arms where she belongs.
She rolls her eyes but willingly settles against me, throwing one knee over my hip. My roving hand caresses her soft backside while my fingers trail up and down her thigh. I know she loves that, so I continue. We stay like that until the sun fully sets, and we finally become aware of the hardness of the floor.
Standing, I lean down and scoop her up, cradling her against my chest. Smiling, she wraps her arms around me. Feeling her warm breath against my neck, I carry her to our bedroom.
“Sam, do you think it will always be this way between us?”
Smiling down at her, I say, “That largely depends on us. But yeah, I think we’ll always have this insatiable craving for each other.”
Emily nods softly. “Insatiable craving,” she repeats the words slowly, “That’s an apt description.”
Slipping off her sundress, I pull the covers up around her body, tucking her in. She’s sound asleep before I turn out the light.
Walking down the stairs, I secure the house for the night. Smirking, I pick up her blue silk panties and carry them with me upstairs.
When I join her in our king-size bed, she gives a soft little whimper but never awakens as I pull her closer. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I anchor her soft curves against me. Instead of falling asleep, my mind churns as I try to envision what going back on tour will look like for Emily and me. When she returns to being my manager, we’ll no longer be alone–isolated from the rest of the world.
This place, this temporary sanctuary we’ve built in such a short time, feels right. It’s nothing like the chaos of the tour or the glitz of the band’s usual scene, but it’s exactly what I didn’t know I wanted.
I grimace ruefully. Before Emily and the baby, I never worried too much about the future, but now they’re all I think about. That’s my last thought before I finally fall asleep.