Chapter 9 - Emma
Pulling Josh up to kiss me, I lift my hips and welcome his first, long, sure thrust. I gasp as he fills me. So big, so much bigger than his fingers, bigger than my toy. Maybe he’s not cocky enough when in public, considering he’s got at least eight thick inches now buried inside me.
“Such a good girl. You take my cock so well,” he groans against my lips.
I roll my hips against him. “More.”
“Oh no, you’re going to be sweet and take what I give you. No demands,” Josh says as he wraps one of my legs around him. His hand spreads over the back of my thigh as he braces himself on his elbow by my head.
Then he draws almost all the way back and thrusts back into me. The moan that leaves my throat is feral. I claw Josh’s shoulders before softening my touch. I try to be gentle, I want to be gentle, but he feels so good.
“Fuck, you’re perfect, Emma,” Josh growls as he buries his face in my neck, nibbling and biting until I can’t think about anything but him. “You’re all mine, sweetness. Only mine.”
“Yes, I’m yours” I whimper.
The words must break whatever control he had. He slams into me again and again, taking me the way he needs. I can’t quiet myself. Every moan that leaves my throat, falls into his hair until he turns my chin to kiss me hungrily, even when all I can do is moan against his lips.
He makes me come from the sheer intensity of finally having him, then he sits back, rolls me onto my hands and knees, and takes me from behind. He guides my hips back, slamming into me, growling in my ear, dissolving every thought in my head until he grips my hair and pulls me up so he can kiss my neck, bite my earlobe and whisper in my ear.
“Again, Emma. Come for me again. One more time before I finish with you,” he demands.
When I try to speak, he increases the pace until all I can manage are intelligible noises. Josh rubs my clit and I can’t hold back. I come again, yelling his name into the rug. A few seconds later, he lets out a carnal, sharp sound and tightens his hold on me while grinding deeper into me.
My toes curl and a soft whimper leaves my throat. I slump to the rug, panting. I don’t know if we’ve been going at it for minutes or hours. Time doesn’t make sense. My whole body hums with pleasure and my toes keep curling as my thighs shake. Josh slowly eases out of me, making me whine.
He kisses my temple. “I’ll be right back.”
It’s not what I expected him to say, but it’s better than ‘great job, drive safe’, so I just lay back down, watching the fire dance over the logs in the fireplace. I rub my cheek against the rug until Josh rolls me. He wraps us up with a blanket, and pulls me until my head is on his chest. He sighs as his other arm pillows his head.
“You’re practically purring down there, aren’t you?” he asks, obviously smiling.
I lift my chin, unable to resist his smile. I kiss him softly, savoring the way his smile tastes. He plays with my hair, tells me about how much he enjoys the fall festival and running some of the town events – things I never knew. He tells me about how he dropped out of college to take over his father’s business and answers every question I ask without hesitation.
When he starts to fall asleep, I just lay on his chest and memorize his heart beat. I like this warm, welcoming side of him, the one that he seems to save just for me. I nuzzle into his neck and whisper. “I really like you.”
“I really like you too,” he says, then rolls me so he’s spooning me. He adjusts the blanket and sighs. “You’re safe here.”
I don’t know why he thought he needed to say it. It’s obvious. He’s a man that screams ‘protection’. He’s big, but not exactly threatening, at least not to me. I yawn, wiggling against him, pressing closer. His hand slides to my hip, holding me still.
“We can pick this up in the morning,” he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep. “If you still want me then.”
I smile, nuzzling into him. “Oh, I’ll want you.”
I don’t like the sound of him thinking I’d change my mind, but I’m too exhausted and comfortable to argue. Wrapped in his warmth, I drift off to sleep, the crackling fire a soft lullaby.
***
When I wake up, I’m alone. My clothes are folded next to me and the fire is out. It’s not even smoking, which means that Josh got up at some point in the night and put it out. I spot him thanks to his open concept home. He’s in the kitchen, pouring a mug of coffee and staring out the window.
I get dressed, then join him. “Morning.”
He nods once, eyes still focused through the window. “I need to go help clear the roads. The main ones are done and I cleared out front.”
I blink a few times. “You do that?”
“Every winter,” he says with a nod.
No elaboration, none of the warmth or easy smiles I earned after we had sex last night. I take the coffee he offers me, wince at the bitterness, then clear my throat. “So ... last night you said-”
“You were right and I should have listened,” he says, still not looking at me. “I’m not ready for more.”
I take a step back, my brow furrowed. “But you said I’m yours.”
“Heat of the moment,” he whispers, but this time he looks away from the window and away from me. “I can’t do this, Emma. Especially not here. Not when there’s so much of ...”
Josh doesn’t finish the sentence, but he doesn’t need to. I take another step back from him. “So we’re done. You ... we have sex and we’re done?”
“I’m sorry. I .. I need some space. I need to think and let my thoughts catch up to everything else. It’s not fair, I know. I’m not expecting anything, but I don’t want to lead you on.”
I want to yell at him for a second, to demand answers, to understand how he can go from the man I knew last night to someone colder and more apathetic than I’ve ever met.
“You should be fine to drive home now. I’m sure your parents are worried. It’s time for you to go,” he says, finally looking at me.
Rather than throwing a temper tantrum, I force a smile. “Right. Of course. Here we are again.”
“Emma,” he sighs.
“It’s fine. You meant what you said in the moment, and I shouldn’t have read into it. Guess I’m showing our age difference,” I say as I go to collect my shoes.
He follows, watching, but saying nothing.
“Anyway, if I don’t see you before Christmas, I hope you have a good one. And make sure you give Tony Christmas Eve off. He won’t say it, but his family always celebrates on the 24 th . Um ... I think that’s all,” I say.
Now that I’m at the door, though, I don’t want to leave. I hesitate for a moment, biting back my frustration. “Anyway, thanks for a great night,” I say, my voice colder than I intend.
He stays there, staring at me without saying a fucking word.
And just like that, I’m in my car, driving home, trying to figure out where I went wrong, if I hurt him. But even when I’m in a shower at home, all I can think is that I hurt myself. I’m chasing an emotionally unavailable man and he’s spelled it out how many times? Maybe he got caught up in the moment. I won’t let it get to me. I’m not going to say a word. Nothing. It’s fine.
I’ll get back to my own version of normal, and that’s exactly what I do. I decorate with my parents, avoid Josh when I spot him in town, and convince myself that everything will be okay. I’ll move on, and maybe, just maybe, he’ll see that he can too.
That would be a good Christmas wish. So, I cross my fingers and focus on the silver lining rather than my lost chance with Josh and his giving up the chance at happiness I want to give him.