21. Emmie
21
EMMIE
I sat in the front seat, shocked, as Marius drove us down the forested country road.
“Abbott?” I asked. “But Oakley doesn’t even know him. Like, Oakley was part of Brooks and Theo’s little friends group. It was always Oakley and Beatrice and Theo over for parties, and I was the fifth wheel. Now we know they had some sort of weird circle-jerk swinger-sex thing going on. But Abbott?” I turned to Marius. “Weren’t you friends with him in high school?”
Marius made a noncommittal noise. “We had some classes together.”
“This doesn’t make any sense.” I stared out the window, willing the snowy forest to give me some sort of sign.
“Maybe…” Marius worked his jaw.
“What?”
“Never mind. The baby can’t be Abbott’s, can it?”
“No way,” I said firmly. “I know Oakley. Theo is one thing, but Abbott… I mean, he’s weird and a little nerdy—not that there’s anything wrong with that. Nerds rule the world,” I added when Marius stiffened. “But like, he is not Oakley’s type at all. Unless…” I tapped my chin. “Is Abbott rich, do you know?”
“No. Whenever I was at his house, his mom didn’t have much. Aunt Frances would always send me over with food. Abbott couldn’t really spring for birthday presents or anything like that—not that we were invited to parties. He doesn’t have money.”
“So you guys were friends?” I asked.
There was that noncommittal noise again. “All I’m saying is he doesn’t have money. Or a lot of sense.”
“She’s using him, then.” I slapped the armrest.
Marius scowled.
“Hey! Barbie can be a doctor or an astronaut or a manipulative sociopath! Women can be whatever they set their mind to! We just need to figure out what Oakley wants from Abbott. Do you think you can talk to him? Please?” I begged, sliding my hand over his lap.
He white knuckled the steering wheel then made a hard right onto a snowy drive.
“How about,” I said against his mouth, gripping his jaw as the car slowed, “if you interrogate Abbott, I’ll let you act out your favorite porno with me?”
His eyelashes fluttered against my nose.
The car screeched to a halt.
“I think,” he growled, grabbing my chin to kiss me roughly, “that you want me to act out your favorite unhinged romance porn scene with me.”
He wrenched the door open, grabbing me before I could face-plant in the snow, then he easily flipped me over his shoulder. His gloved fingers were insistent under my skirt.
“Wait,” I said to the back of his soft wool overcoat. “Where are we going?”
He just stroked me harder, the leather gloves rough in my pussy. Panting, I scrabbled at his back.
I heart a digital beep, then the snowy ground changed to stained wood. I was unceremoniously dumped over the back of an oversize leather couch.
“I got us another cabin.” His fingers were still between my legs. “Take your clothes off. I want to see your tits,” he ordered, still stroking me,
I kept missing buttons on my blouse as, hands trembling and trying to will my knees not to give out, I stripped off my top and my bra and kicked off my shoes.
He fisted a hand in my hair and bent me over the back of the couch, kicking my legs apart.
My skirt was bunched up around my waist as he continued to stroke me, working my clit.
“You know…” The deep voice had an edge to it. “This is actually the first time I’ve fucked a small-town girl.”
Then I was coming on his fingers. Stars spun in my eyes as a man’s jacket and shirt appeared on the couch by my head. My skirt came down and disappeared to the floor.
“Not much for a girl to do in a small town other than spread her legs for whatever shithead football player walks by, is there?” he continued.
God, this is going to be good.
“You sound like you need to work some resentment out,” I goaded, wanting to feel well and truly fucked by his cock.
“Did the captain of the football team do this?” He trailed his tongue along the glistening slit of my pussy.
“Fuck,” I moaned, my back arching. “What are you doing?”
“Seeing if you taste as sweet as one of your murder cupcakes.” He chuckled, then his tongue was back in my pussy.
My fingers grabbed at anything I could reach as his tongue curled around my clit. I gripped his starched white dress shirt as his tongue dipped into my opening then higher, making me scream and jerk.
Marius grabbed my hips, his fingers bruising me as he spread me, his tongue everywhere. “You like having your ass eaten out, don’t you?”
I could only moan as he lifted my hips up higher to really work me with his tongue, claiming every piece of me with his mouth until I was shuddering and coming all over his face.
I lay half draped over the back of the couch, barely registering the movement as a condom packet ripped.
I felt his cock, thick and heavy, against my thighs and moaned when he rubbed it in my pussy juices.
“You’re going to be so fucking tight when I take you, Emmie.” Then he spread me, that thick cock pushing against my opening, way bigger than anything I’d ever put in there.
“I don’t think I can take it,” I mewled as he ground his cock against my pussy.
“Too big?” the deep voice taunted.
“Yeah, I think—” Then I screamed a curse as he thrust into me, jerking my hips back against him as he plowed deep inside me.
A low moan escaped me as my pussy rippled around the thick length.
He didn’t pull out, just leaned forward, that impossibly huge length shifting inside of me, almost making me come. He reached for my tits, one hand on each, and tugged the nipples, rolling them in his hands. “Can I make you come like this?”
“I, um…” I panted as my hips rocked back against him. One of his hands slid down my curves to my pussy, seeking my clit in the swollen slit.
“Don’t make me come yet,” I whimpered and pleaded as he stroked me, fingers hard on my clit, as hard as his cock in me. Then I was coming around him, moaning as he sank his teeth into my shoulder, trying to keep himself from coming in me.
“Fuck, Emmie.” He pulled out, sending aftershocks of pleasure through me, then slammed into me.
My legs and hips thumped against the back of the couch as he took me over and over, his cock plunging deep inside me, hitting the secret spot until I was coming again, moaning his name.
He kept up the furious pace while I begged him for his cum, spreading my legs for him, taking every inch of that huge length until my hips ached.
Gripping my thighs, he angled me so he could fuck me deep and hard, my cries echoing around the paneled room until the pace got more sporadic.
“Come, Emmie. Fuck you—just fucking come.”
He slammed into me again, then I was thrust into the storm of pleasure while he came inside me, milking every drop of cum into my aching pussy.
“Shit.”
I was draped like a rag doll over the back of the couch as he slowly slid out of me.
He cupped my ass and gave me an affectionate slap, making me squeak.
“I’d give anything,” he murmured, “to see my cum dripping out of that tight little pussy.”
I could hear the high of the orgasm in the deep voice.
Well, then…
His footsteps faded while I tried to restart my brain.
That was sex? Damn. And they said it wasn’t anything like the romance books.
I pulled myself up off the couch in time to admire Marius coming in with that Greek-god body, the muscles tight from sex, rippling under sweaty skin.
He handed me a warm washcloth and kissed me, hands cupping my face, as I toweled off.
“I don’t know how any woman lets you go,” I murmured against his mouth, running my fingers through his messed-up hair. “You fuck like an animal.”
That earned me a slap on the ass and a nip of his teeth. “You read too much.”
I dragged my nails down the washboard abs.
“I don’t how any man would let you go.” He kissed me noisily. “Kinky little slut like you. And no one else knows about it until I’ve got you with your tits out and your pussy hot and ready for my cock.” His fingers slid between my legs briefly, affectionately. “You’d let me fuck you dirty, wouldn’t you?” he murmured. “You’re a little cum slut under all those sweaters.”
His phone rang in his discarded pants. He squeezed my ass and answered it.
I slowly pulled on my clothes, the high of sex wearing off. I wished he would wrap me in a blanket and cuddle with me.
He’s not your boyfriend—you just hooked up with him. He’s leaving town soon. Better not to get attached.
Maybe I was just feeling the holiday blues.
The last time I’d been intimate with Brooks, it had been in a cabin just like this. Even though I’d said I was ovulating and wanted to try for a baby, he had insisted that he wanted to do an overnight trip with his friends. “Theo already booked the cabin!” he yelled at me.
I cooked a nice dinner that everyone complained about. The four of them all drank, and Brooks and Theo watched Oakley and Beatrice drunkenly dance in front of the fireplace while I refreshed everyone’s drinks. I’d stood there as Brooks danced off-rhythm with Oakley.
I knew in my bones he and Beatrice had been sleeping together.
What if he’d been doing both of them at the same time?
Gross.
That night, after cleaning up dinner and scrubbing the kitchen, I’d begged him to at least have sex so I didn’t miss my window. Brooks had complained that he was too drunk and tired.
I bet he’d already had sex with them.
Oakley had been doing the same happy dance she’d done at the cabin earlier today and had been just as over-the-top affectionate with Brooks as she’d been with Abbott. I had wondered at the time if she was trying to steal my husband. Now I knew she’d already been sleeping with him behind my back, no condom whatsoever.
“Wait,” I said slowly, my brain starting to draw parallels.
“What’s wrong?” Marius’s hand was warm on my back. “Sorry about that. Grayson called to complain I hadn’t sent an email out yet.”
“Sorry, I know you have a real job,” I said in a rush.
“This…” Marius kissed me. “Is more important, and what do you say I fuck that tight little pussy for another hour or so?” He nipped my lip.
I pushed him away.
He looked a little hurt.
I kissed him quickly.
“I’ll walk you around on a leash and let you fuck me later, but first,” I said, “I think I solved a big piece of the mystery.” I clapped my hands. “She’s not pregnant!”
“What? Who?” he demanded.
“Oakley. She was drunk earlier. You see?” I said. “She’s been faking it. She has a fake belly. She’s been faking pregnancy symptoms. That search on her laptop she did was probably looking for recipes she could make that would convince everyone she was nauseous and had morning sickness.”
Marius was giving me a wary look.
I poked his broad chest. “You don’t believe me. You think I’m crazy.”
“It just seems really like a trashy soap opera plot or something. No one fakes a pregnancy. That’s insane.”
“Yes, but money and love make people crazy. I’m going to prove it.”
I tapped my fingers on the armrest as we drove back to the first cabin.
Out in the snow on the stoop, I waited impatiently for Marius to look up the code to the door on the app.
It still worked.
“Come on, universe, I need evidence,” I muttered.
Marius stood in the middle of the room while I ran around.
“Ah-ha! An empty bottle of wine in the trash can and two glasses in the sink, one with cherry-red lipstick. Oakley is lying! She’s not pregnant.”