Chapter 6 EMMETT
EMMETT
I’d forgotten how good it felt to have a woman curled against me on a ride.
My hand went to her thigh, gripping it tight as she let go of my waist and spread her arms wide.
I chuckled into the wind.
Not many would let themselves go on a first ride, but she was fearless. She had this fire, and damn it, that fire was making it hard for me to walk away.
I could have avoided her at the store easily enough. She hadn’t spotted me, and I could have kept on walking. But this pull between us was irresistible. She was a lure and I was her willing catch.
“Hold on,” I called over my shoulder, ready to give her another thrill.
She obeyed instantly, her arms clamping around my ribs. Then I gunned the engine, shooting us forward and reveling in the thunder of my bike on the road. She laughed in my ear, and that sweet sound went straight to my cock.
I was going to need a name for this one because calling her baby wasn’t going to cut it for long.
The smart thing to do here would be to end it before baby wore thin, but with every mile we rode, the more I didn’t want to call it off.
Not yet. As long as she didn’t expect anything serious, why not have some fun?
We rode for an hour, taking a highway loop that I’d ridden a hundred times. When Clifton Forge came back into view, she sagged against me, the disappointment in her body matching my own.
“Got anywhere to be?” I asked over my shoulder as I pulled up to the first stoplight in town.
“No.”
“Good.” Straight would take us to The Betsy. We could have a couple drinks, then I’d take her back to her car at the grocery store. But right would take us to my place.
I turned right.
The clouds had come in while we’d been riding. They nearly blocked out the evening sun and with the deep gray overcast and plummeting temperature, rain wasn’t far away. It came just as we turned off the highway and onto my private drive.
“Ahh!” She laughed as the first drops hit. Then she loosened her grip and tipped her face to the heavens, letting them coat her face.
I hit the opener and eased the bike into the dark garage, parking it beside my truck.
She climbed off first and I expected her to head for the inside door. Instead, she walked toward the rain, stepping outside as the clouds opened.
The click of her heels was lost as the deluge began. She didn’t so much as flinch. She opened her arms and let the water soak through her blouse and skirt.
She was mesmerizing. Sexy. Mysterious. I was a statue, my eyes aimed at her like my entire purpose in this life was to watch her.
When she finally tipped her chin down, she glanced over her shoulder and gave me that sly smile while she crooked her finger.
She beckoned. I followed.
I strode into the rain. I walked willingly into her storm.
Without hesitating, I went to her, gripped her by the hips and smashed my lips on hers, tasting the water and the sweetness of her lips. She opened for me, her arms looping around my shoulders as I swept my tongue inside.
Her breath hitched and I swallowed the gasp as I took her perfect ass in my palms and squeezed. Hard.
Then I hauled her up by her legs, hooking my hands behind her knees and pulling them around my hips so I could carry her inside. The moment we walked through the door into the house, we were a mess of wet clothes and sloppy kisses.
I keyed in the code on the alarm while she worked my belt free.
She kicked off her heels while I toed off my boots. Then we left a trail of wet clothes, each piece smacking the hardwood floors as we fumbled our way to the bedroom.
Her hair was soaked but by the time we were through, after a string of orgasms and more condoms than I’d ever used in a single night, most of the tendrils had dried on my pillow.
“That was quite a ride, Ace.” She smiled into the sheets as we each panted, regaining our breath.
I grinned. “Aim to please.”
Her dark eyes sparkled in the muted light. The storm outside hadn’t calmed, the rain pattering on the roof and windows.
“I’d better get going.” She moved to leave but I reached for her, wrapping my arm around her waist and hauling her closer before she could disappear.
“Just stay. I’m not taking the bike out in the rain.”
“Does that fancy black truck of yours not work?”
“Not in the summer.” Unless there was ice and snow on the roads or the temperature was too cold, I was on the bike. But my vehicle wasn’t the reason I didn’t want her to go. I was wiped out and she felt good right here.
“I’ll call a cab.”
I didn’t respond. I just held her tight and buried my nose in her hair as I closed my eyes.
She tensed but stayed still. Then finally, she relaxed and snuggled closer.
I waited until her breaths evened out. Until she burrowed deeper into my bed.
Then I let myself fall asleep too.
The glass door slid open behind me.
“Morning, baby,” I said, glancing up as she stepped onto the deck wearing nothing but my white T-shirt from last night.
In her hands, she clutched a steaming mug and gave me a sleepy smile. Then she went to the chaise beside mine, curling into the cushion and tucking her legs underneath her. “Morning, Ace.”
It was still raining, a light drizzle compared to last night’s downpour. The air smelled of grass and pine and water. This covered deck was my favorite part about the house. On mornings like this, being able to sit here and watch the forest grow was about all a man needed.
And maybe the rare chance to share it with a beautiful woman whose hair was mussed from a night of sex.
“Hungry?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Finish that cup and I’ll make you breakfast.”
She nodded and sipped from her mug, content to listen to the rain.
When both of our mugs were empty, I took her hand and led her inside. Then I refilled her cup and had her sit at the kitchen island while I went about making us an omelet.
“Want some help?” she asked.
“Nope.”
She drank her second cup of coffee while I fried bacon and chopped peppers, mushrooms and an onion. Then while I was whisking the eggs, she disappeared.
I figured she’d gone in search of her clothes. They were in the laundry room, hanging to dry. Instead, she came out wearing a pair of my sweatpants, the waist rolled a few times so they’d fit.
She padded to the stove, running her hands up and down my bare back. I’d only bothered with sweatpants this morning. With a kiss dropped to my shoulder, she stole my mug to refill it along with her own.
Having her here was . . . comfortable. I couldn’t think of the last time I’d cooked a woman breakfast. It had to be at least ten years ago and never once had it been in this house.
It was uncommon for me to let anyone stay and if I made an exception, the visitor would be out the door first thing in the morning.
But instead of ushering her out, I was coming up with reasons to delay the return trip to town. Why her? What was so special about this woman? Christ, I didn’t even know her name.
That should worry me more than it did.
Maybe the reason she was here was because of the anonymity. It was an invisible line in the sand and when crossed, maybe this good time would disappear.
“Where are your plates?” she asked.
I pointed to a cabinet and she took out two, setting them on the island.
“Silverware?”
“Drawer beside the fridge.”
The clink of forks and knives echoed as the eggs sizzled in the pan.
We moved in tandem, her setting our places while I added cheese and fillings and spices to the meal. When it was done, I split the omelet in two and we sat down to eat.
Not once over breakfast did she ask to be taken to her car. Not once did I offer.
We ate and did the dishes. Then before she could ask for a ride to town, I took her hand and led her to the leather living room couch, where I pulled her onto my lap and snagged the remote from the coffee table.
“What do you feel like watching?” It was a test to see if she’d push me.
She gave me a sly grin, like she knew exactly what I was doing, then snatched the remote from my hand. “The Last Kingdom? I just got started on it but so far I’m hooked.”
“It’s good. Pick up wherever you left off.”
“We can watch something you haven’t seen yet.”
“Nah.” I shifted, stretching out on the couch and shifting her so she was lying on my side. “This is a good show.”
We watched three episodes before she finally pushed up off the couch and shut the TV off.
Once again, I expected her to ask for her clothes, to mention it was time to leave. Instead, she reached for the hem of the shirt she was wearing—my shirt—and whipped it over her head, setting those glorious breasts free.
My cock jerked as she plucked a condom from the pocket of the sweats. She must have stolen it from the nightstand earlier.
We fucked on the couch. We took a shower. We fucked in bed. We dressed in the same sweats and returned to the kitchen for lunch. The afternoon passed a lot like the morning, TV and sex.
It was one of the best Saturdays I’d had in years.
When was the last time I’d lazed around like this? When was the last time I hadn’t rushed out the door or into my office first thing in the morning? When was the last time I’d held a woman on the couch and let myself unwind?
Never.
I’d never done this before. Not even with the few girlfriends I’d had. I couldn’t recall a time in my life when I’d spent the day with a woman, simply enjoying her company.
Maybe the reason this was working was because she wasn’t my girlfriend. Because we were acquaintances and nothing more. Because her company was a short-lived phenomenon.
Eventually, this would end.
Everything did.
As the hours passed and the rain finally stopped outside, I asked the question that I’d been dreading all day. “Want me to take you back to your car?”
She twisted, looking up at me from where her head was resting on my lap. One of my arms was draped over the back of the couch while the other was toying with her hair. “Not really. I’m enjoying doing nothing today. I don’t do it often enough. But . . .”
“But.”