Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Jared
The drive from the docks back to Emily’s cottage stretches longer than it really is.
The Wright pack had offered us a room at the Homestead.
Kyle was in no condition to run the water taxi, and it would have been the easy thing, the obvious thing.
Instead, I’d made some excuse about Mixie, our cat, being alone since morning, borrowed the water taxi with a promise to handle the morning dock pickup, and gotten us out of there.
Now, the road home slips beneath our old truck’s wheels, with only the rumble of the engine and the occasional crunch of gravel to fill the silence. Emily sits in the passenger seat, one hand resting on my thigh as I drive us home.
I keep my focus on the road. The Homestead would have been fine. But I needed her on her own ground tonight, surrounded by her own things, as far from everyone else’s noise as I could get her.
Let me give you a pup, Em.
My throat goes dry just thinking about it.
The words had fallen out of my mouth before I could catch them.
Not planned, only this naked truth I’d been carrying since the night I realized what I wanted with her.
I’d seen her watching Chloe, the way she tracked every shift of the Omega’s pregnant belly, the way her own hand had moved to rest on her flat stomach.
That wounded sadness, as if remembering a dream she had buried a long time ago.
I hadn’t thought she’d agree when I threw out the suggestion. But the way her breath had caught, the way her eyes had gone wide and dark… It’s been playing on a loop in my head ever since.
I don’t look at her now. If I do, I’ll pull the truck over to the side of the road and try to put a pup in her belly right now. She hasn’t even said out loud that she wants to try. My hands tighten on the steering wheel to stop myself from reaching for her.
The headlights cut a swath through the darkness as I turn into our driveway.
The place appears different at night, the porch light we left on casts a warm glow over the front garden, and Mixie’s silhouette perches in the window, waiting for us to come home.
The first time Emily brought me here, I thought the cottage looked as if it had come straight out of a fairy tale, and I still think so.
I pull to a stop on the gravel, cut the engine, and sudden quiet fills the cab.
“I can sleep in the guest room,” I offer, afraid I’m pressuring her now that we’re home. “If you want some space to think about it.”
Emily shakes her head, her silver hair catching the dim light from the dashboard. “I’m not kicking you out of our bed.”
The teasing tone untangles a knot of worry beneath my ribs. “Well, I didn’t expect you to, but I needed to offer.”
She snorts as she reaches for the door handle. “You don’t ever have to offer that. I always want you by my side.”
She climbs out before I can answer, her boots crunching on the gravel as she heads for the front door. I take a deep breath and follow.
The cottage welcomes us with the familiar aroma of the bread she baked yesterday and the clean fragrance of the herbs drying in the kitchen. Mixie leaps down from her perch as soon as the door opens, winding figure-eights around Emily’s ankles with an indignant meow.
“Sorry. Yes, I understand you’re starving,” Emily murmurs, crouching to scratch behind the cat’s ears. “Late night. I’ll get your dinner now.”
I hang back, taking her coat and hanging it on the hook by the door before adding mine next to it. Our shoes go next to the welcome mat, and Emily heads into the kitchen without turning on the lights. A moment later, the sound of kibbles striking the ceramic cat bowl drifts back.
As I join her, Emily’s head lifts at the sound of my footsteps, an unreadable emotion flickering across her face.
“You okay?” I ask, still keeping my hands to myself.
She straightens, one hand braced on the counter. Mixie dives into her dinner with single-minded focus, oblivious to the tension thickening the air.
“I’m thinking about what you said,” Emily says, “about the pup.”
My heart kicks hard. “Yeah?”
“I never thought I’d get another chance at that.” She faces me squarely. “After Auren… after everything… I thought that door was closed.”
I take a careful step toward her. “It’s not.”
Her smile is small but real. “I know that now.”
Another step. “It’s a big decision.”
“The biggest.”
We stand close enough now that her body heat reaches out to me, even through my layers.
“What are you thinking?” I rasp out.
Emily reaches for me, her hand settling on my chest, fingers spread wide, right over my heart. “I’m thinking I want to try.”
A rumble starts up. “Yeah?”
She swallows hard. “Yeah.”
I cup her cheeks in my hands, giving her one last chance to step back. Her skin is warm under my palms, a little flushed from the cold. Her breath catches, and she leans in, her mouth finding mine.
Her lips part, and the faint sweetness of the dessert she had at the Homestead lingers on my tongue, mixed with Emily’s unique flannel and crushed clover pheromones. Her hands slide up my chest to my shoulders, gripping hard, as if afraid I’ll disappear if she doesn’t hold on.
I won’t. I’m right here.
Her body molds to mine, all strong lines and defined muscles. I’ve kissed her a hundred times, but never with the new possibility now hanging between us, with everything laid out and waiting.
She breaks the kiss first, her forehead pressed to mine, both of us breathing hard.
“We can go slow,” I say, even as my hands slide down to cup her ass, tugging her closer. “Think things through.”
Emily laughs. “We’ve been going slow for months. I’m done with slow.”
With a growl, I lift her in one smooth motion, her legs wrapping around my waist, and carry her toward the hallway. Emily’s hands fumble with the buttons of her shirt, her nimble fingers turned clumsy with want. I pin her gently to the wall and cover her hands with mine.
“Let me,” I murmur against her mouth, and her hands fall away.
I take my time with each button, letting my knuckles brush the warm skin of her stomach.
Her breath hitches with each contact, her breasts rising and falling faster as I work my way up.
By the time I push the shirt off her shoulders, she’s got both hands fisted in my hair, keeping me close as we kiss.
She opens for me, and I take my time with it, savoring the warmth of her mouth, my hands sliding up her bare back. A soft sound escapes her and thrums through me.
I duck my head to kiss the pulse point in her throat, rumbling with satisfaction when it jumps under my lips. “Want to be careful with you.”
Her laugh comes out breathless. “I’m not breakable.”
“I never said you were.” I straighten up. “But this is important. You’re important.”
Her features soften, and she reaches for the hem of my shirt, tugging it up until I lift my arms to let her pull it over my head. “So are you.”
My breath catches. I’ve been falling for her since the second I first saw her in that pawnshop, when I was trying to sell a portable speaker, so I’d have cash to buy my cousin a coffee and start my first day of work on the right foot.
She’s been so important to me since that moment, this tall, stern Alpha with callused hands and hidden wounds.
But hearing her say it back, watching as she does, almost undoes me.
“Bedroom,” I command. “Now.”
We finish the walk with Emily snug at my side, her hand in mine. The bedroom is dark except for the sliver of moonlight filtering through the half-drawn curtains, painting silver lines across the rumpled quilt.
I turn to her, undoing the button on her pants. “You sure about this?”
In answer, she pushes me toward the bed with a firm hand on my chest. “Stop talking and get on with it.”
I go without resistance, sitting on the mattress. Emily steps between my spread knees, her hands coming to rest on my shoulders. “You’re still wearing too many clothes,” she says, reaching for the button on my jeans.
I catch her wrists, holding her still. “Tonight is about you.”
I tug her forward and lean in to brush a kiss right above her heart. Her skin warms my lips, smooth and alive. Her pulse kicks beneath my mouth as I kiss my way across her collarbone and up the elegant line of her throat.
Her head falls back, giving me better access. “Jared.”
The way she says my name sounds like it’s pulled from somewhere deep inside her, and my chest tightens. I keep going, my mouth moving lower, tracing the upper curve of her breast above her bra.
I linger there, my tongue circling the point where fabric meets skin. Emily’s breathing changes, growing faster and shallower. Her hands come up to cradle my head.
“You have no idea,” I murmur, my lips brushing her skin, “how much I’ve thought about this.”
Her fingers thread through my hair. “I have some idea.”
I kiss my way lower, replacing my mouth with my hands as I reach for the clasp of her bra. It comes undone with a quick twist of my fingers, and I push the straps down her arms, baring her to the cool air of the bedroom.
Emily shivers, heavy-lidded now, watching as I take in the sight of my strong and perfect Alpha.
“Beautiful,” I say, and mean it with everything in me.
I lean forward, taking one nipple into my mouth, and her fingers tighten in my hair.
She always wears those compression bras at work, the kind that flatten and contain, and every time it’s like this, her fullness spilling into my palms, heavier and softer than anything her uniform suggests, a secret I get to keep relearning every night when we go to bed.
I cup her breast, thumb brushing the damp peak, and take her into my mouth, savoring the pillowy softness of her flesh against my face, the texture of her pebbled skin on my tongue.
I suck her in deeper, my cheeks hollowing with the effort.
I swirl my tongue around her nipple, teasing it into a hard little bud.