Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
JACOB
W atching her work is a unique pleasure. I have to keep reminding myself not to stare at her like some Shakespearean goddamn lover, just in case her dad catches me looking. There’s something so gorgeous about the way she’s sitting there, everything in her focused on the work, biting her bottom lip as she delicately handles the brush. I want to walk up behind her, lean down, and kiss the nape of her neck. “What do you want for dinner?” A snippet in my mind, a domestic scene, both of us living in bliss. The sort I don’t deserve.
She brushes her hair from her face. Jesus. I want to drag my fingertips through it so badly. An hour passes like this. I could sit here for the rest of my life. I could watch her every second of every day and never get bored. There was a reason I stayed away and should’ve eaten a bullet. She glances at me, her cheeks flushed with creativity.
Rusty puts his head back and whines.
“He’s proud of you,” I say.
“Do you think it’s terrible?”
I lean forward. “Why say it like that? Don’t doubt yourself so much. You’ve got talent. I know nothing about art, but that…” I gesture at the painting of Rusty brought to life, especially the sparkle in his eyes. “… is excellent work. Ten out of ten.”
She beams. “You’re just being nice now.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say sarcastically. “Because I’m well known for being nice just for the sake of it.”
She laughs, and I find myself smiling. Being with her is easier than being with any other woman ever could be. It’s the sort of chemistry I’d be addicted to if I knew it wasn’t poison—if we weren’t poison.
“Maybe with me, you’ll start.”
“It’s not just for the sake of it,” I tell her. “The work’s good, but stop fishing for compliments.”
“I’m not,” she says, her voice going high as if she’s doing her best to seduce me. I want her so damn badly. It’s not her fault. Everything she does is seductive to me. She follows up quietly and asks, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” I groan.
She swallows. “You know what.”
“No, I don’t,” I tell her.
“Fine, be like that.”
“We both have to be like that.”
“I know,” she says.
“Be like what?”
I turn to find Mike standing there, his hands on his hips, looking at us with narrowed eyes. I remember when some boys would tell bullshit stories, and Mike would stare at them just like that, eyes narrowed, watching, interrogating.
“Uh, he’s being mean about my painting,” Emma says, “but it’s just a joke.”
“Ah, right,” Mike says, waving a hand. “Well, I wanted to tell you I’m going to nap and get ready for my shift later. So don’t disturb me, okay?”
He’s acting shifty again, just like when his phone buzzed both times. He turns and walks back down the hallway.
“Do you think he heard us?” Emma whispers.
“Be quiet,” I tell her.
“Wow, Jacob.” She stands up, walking toward the hallway, hissing at me in a low voice. “You know I’m not a dog, right? You don’t have to talk to me like crap.”
I swallow, wanting so badly to stand and wrap my arms around her. She’s got a flush running down her neck, making me think of her tight nipples and her big bouncing breasts. Fuck, and her pink slit, the way she almost opened for me, almost gave me everything. I’m aching. Fuck . I want her so badly.
I’m sorry . That’s what I should say, but there’s a risk Mike will come out here again. Maybe he’s forgotten something. He’ll catch me and his daughter locked in a lover’s stare. I can’t let that happen. So, like a douchebag, I say nothing. I sit down. I stare at the painting of Rusty.
She turns and stomps down the hallway. I should be able to believe it’s for the best. If I can make her hate me, then the chance of us being together is zero. Yet I only want to hold her and tell her I’m sorry, but I can’t.
I sigh, looking out the window. It’s snowing again. It looks like a blizzard might be coming. If so, we can hunker down for weeks if needed. Or I can dig us out. If worst comes to worse, it’s a trek through the snow. Here in this cabin, we’re safe. I have to believe that. Safe from those pervert criminal bastards.
That’s the most important thing. As long as my woman is safe, nothing else matters. Still, a blizzard will make this even more difficult: all three—well, four now, with Rusty—of us locked together. I need to be more careful. No more hungry looks. No more fantasizing.
I can’t stop thinking about her standing there with the flush going down her neck, that sassy look on her face. Fuck . My cock gets hard so fast, so thick with precome, my balls aching. I should’ve grabbed her and dragged her into the dining area, bent her over the table, spanked her thick ass through her sweatpants, and watched her big body jiggle for me.
Before I give myself time to think—I’m a terrible man, fuck —I’m in my bedroom, my dick in my hand, pumping so fast, standing over my bed. I can’t think—just her body. Bent over, bouncing, and then I’ll pull down her sweatpants and reveal the big round gorgeousness of her ass.
“You’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you,” I growl. “Everything. Understand me? Everything.”
She looks over her shoulder, that excited, cautious look in her young eyes. “Will you fuck me?” I imagine her saying, fire rushing up my shaft, seriously making it impossible to stop and think about anything else. All that exists is her body, her thickness. “Please, Jacob. Please fuck my tight pussy.”
I imagine kissing her hole with my tip. This time, I start sliding in straight away. She gasps and moans, sliding back against me. Then, suddenly, she’s on top. On the table, bouncing up and down so her tits shake for me, just for me and?—
Oh, fuck . This is the most intense orgasm I’ve had since her graduation. The fantasy is so vivid. It’s like I can feel her hot pink pussy grinding on my dick. It’s like I can hear her moans, begging for more, begging me to spank her, driving into her over and over to own her.
“I’m yours,” she moans.
I’m still coming, my eyes shut tight, wave after wave of release rushing out of me. Then she’s on her knees, her tongue grinding up and down my cock as she collects my come, swallowing it. Then I’m on my knees, and she’s bent over, and I’ve got my face stuffed right against her warm, wet folds. I tongue her tight slit.
I’m still coming. It feels so good, so right, as I finger her tight hole and spank her at the same time. She gasps in my mind, her big globes jiggling, her creamy skin getting red with my lust marks.
Finally, it’s over. I peel my eyes open, seeing I’ve come all over the sheets like a goddamn loser, somebody with no self-control. With Emma, that’s the truth. I can’t control anything.
I clean myself, then strip the sheets. It feels pitiful, knowing the real Emma is just a few doors down. It feels pathetic, indulging like this when I should be losing myself with my woman for real. I should be sliding my finger gently over her lips, then her hole, then…
I’m getting hard again. Am I really going to do this?
I leave my bedroom quickly before I get carried away again. Rusty is sitting in the hallway, head tilted, a pretty judgmental look on his face, truth be told.
“I know.” I rub his head. “I’m more of an animal than you.”
He whines, basically saying yes . It’s not like he’ll argue with me on that one.