48. Emma
Chapter Forty-Eight
EMMA
S he fell back against the sheets, out of breath with the anonymous apron tangled around her neck. Emma felt a tug and lifted her pleasure-drugged head so Garrett could pull it off.
He withdrew from her body as he backed away. “I’m going to leave you like this now, my cum still flowing from your body while I shower. I have twenty minutes before my next meeting. Is that okay with you?”
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured. “Fix my mask.”
He adjusted the eye-covering as she made herself comfortable, raising one leg and leaning it against one of the pillows so that it lay open, leaving her pussy wet and exposed.
Harsh breathing filled the room. “You’re going to be late,” she reminded him.
“Yeah,” he rasped. “Until later.”
Feeling very smug and not a little sore, she lay back, luxuriating in the softness of the bed as the shower started. She was still shifting around, making herself comfortable while he dressed. He groaned more than once as she stretched on the bed.
Why was it you could feel when someone’s eyes were on you? Garrett’s gaze was almost physical. She could almost feel it, a glancing touch skating over her breasts and thighs .
“Remind me why I thought this was a good idea,” he said, frustrated as hell. He ran out of the room, the door closing firmly behind him.
Emma spent the whole day naked, an experience both bizarre and decadent.
She lazed about on the bed, undoing the very loose knot of her bindings once or twice to use the facilities and to eat lunch with him when he brought it.
Other times he would come in and he would touch and stroke, fucking her if he had enough time between meetings and other important tasks.
It must have been late afternoon when he came in again, rousing her from a light sleep. But this time he didn’t move toward the bed.
She was naked, her nipples stiff despite the fact Garrett had turned up the temperature so she’d be comfortable. Her legs were open, exposed to him, the proof of their earlier lovemaking sticking to her skin, just like he wanted.
“Garrett?” she asked, her voice groggy with sleep.
The air moved. It was followed by the sound of the door closing.
Confused, she turned her head and pressed against her arm to nudge the mask up. The room was empty.
Emma lay back and sighed, figuring Garrett must not have heard her, his mind on his work. It was a busy day for him. He’d been popping in and out, watching without waking her to savor the picture she made. But she didn’t mind. That was why she was here, to give him what he needed on his terms.
It was her gift to him.
He didn’t return until late afternoon with elaborately prepared sushi rolls for an early dinner.
Emma was starving but she let Garrett feed her one piece at a time while her hands remained bound. When they were done, she stretched out in silent invitation, and he stripped down and fucked her one more time before cleaning up and changing for one final meeting.
Feeling pleasantly sore and lethargic, she showered, letting the hot water soothe her overused muscles. Some of their sex had been rough and she’d been bound for a lot of it, but for the most part, Garrett had been very careful with her.
Revived by the shower, she quickly dried off and dressed. She gathered her things and put them back in her overnight bag before settling down to wait for Garrett.
After a while, she decided waiting in the bedroom was counterproductive to leaving the building, so she made her way to the front part of the office.
Garrett’s shiny sleek desktop was password protected, so she settled on the couch with her phone, streaming a movie on the tiny screen.
Look at you, you fancy bitch.
As little as three months ago, the phone screen would have been huge to her. More than adequate to watch a movie. Now, thanks to Garrett’s many flatscreens, it was too small.
Soon you’ll be putting on airs. Emma had read that phrase in a book and it had stuck in her head. It was too late, she thought, nestling deeper on the couch.
She was already a fancy bitch.
“Hey.”
Emma looked up. Fletcher was standing at the threshold, holding a manila folder in front of him like a shield.
“Oh, hi,” she said, putting her legs down and sitting up straight.
“I was looking for Garrett.”
“I thought he was with you,” she said.
“He was until ten minutes ago.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
Emma went back to her movie, expecting him to leave, but he didn’t. After a minute she looked up and he was watching her with this weird considering expression on his face.
“I’m sorry, is there something I could help you with?”
“No.” Fletcher shook his head. “I was just thinking. Life is…”
“Yeah?” she prompted when he trailed off.
“I was just thinking. Life is so weird.” He scratched his thinning hair. “You know, the way things turn out.”
Fletcher gestured to her as if she hadn’t figured out who he was talking about.
“Seeing you like this,” he continued. “Here waiting for Garrett like a… a…”
“A wife?” she asked.
“Yeah!” Fletcher’s answering laugh sounded forced.
Emma pressed her lips together, the unpleasant realization that she’d been living in a bubble hitting her just as it burst.
Most of Garrett’s friends were nice and supportive. They liked seeing him with someone. Except for Fletcher. He was from their hometown.
She didn’t know what he saw when he looked at her, but she didn’t like it.
Emma was about to ask what his problem was, but Fletcher was feeling chatty and was ready to tell her.
“It’s just that you and Garrett were always at each other’s throats.” Fletcher leaned against the doorjamb with exaggerated casualness. “Seeing you this way, so domestic. I mean you’re his wife now. It takes some getting used to. And to think it would never have happened without the accident.”
Emma must not have looked as offended as she felt because he didn’t run away like he should have.
“Because somehow I started working here?” she asked.
“No. Well, yes, but also no.” Fletcher pushed away from the door. “I just meant you and Garrett, getting together.”
“Because we were enemies,” she said. Or because she had been a poor barista and Garrett was a billionaire?
“I guess that part isn’t so surprising,” he mused. “In retrospect, it’s kind of obvious—all that bickering masking some sexual tension. At least on Garrett’s part. Am I right? Without the accident, none of this would have happened.”
Her blood iced over. “Actually, without the accident, we would have been together much longer. ”
Fletcher raised a skeptical brow. “You think so?”
Speaking in a normal tone took serious effort. “I take it you don’t?”
“Well… no.” He lifted his hands when she scowled. “I mean, it’s a nice thought, but Emma, you don’t know the way you were. So ambitious and stuff.”
She was definitely starting to dislike this man.“And ambition is wrong?”
His head drew back. “Hey, no need to get offended. It’s not a criticism at all. It’s just ironic. Without the accident, you would be on Wall Street right now, kicking ass and taking names.”
He rolled his shoulders before his expression softened. “Instead, you’re here, happily married.”
“ Because of the accident?” she repeated. The back of her neck was so tight she was starting to get nauseous.
Fletcher had the grace to wince. “I just mean that if it wasn’t for the accident, the two of you would never work. It would have been like Garrett marrying himself. This way he gets to spoil you and never has to worry you’ll take off for the greener pastures of some high-powered job. It’s like his wet dream come true.”
She didn’t need his significant glance at the door leading to the bedroom to get what he was ever so subtly implying.
Emma was Garrett’s fuck toy, the former enemy who had, through some twist of fate, become his trophy wife. And not a very shiny one at that.
She was going to be sick. Hell, she had even served herself up to him at his office, his place of business.
“It’s a good thing,” Fletcher insisted. “The accident was a blessing in disguise. Garrett gets the wife he’s always wanted. And you—it’s like you won the lottery. You don’t ever have to work. You just have to make him happy. And that’s easy for you because you’re the one he has been pining for. He loves you. Like really loves you.”
Emma blinked, taken aback by his sudden intensity.
She stared at him, half in disbelief that he’d said all this shit to her, but also not surprised. Because it made sense. Not about the accident being a blessing. That was bullshit.
But what if she and Garrett did have a better shot with her this way? Emma, the broken doll, a cipher of her former self?
She was still reeling when Garrett came back. He and Fletcher spoke for a few minutes while she sat in protective numbness, waiting for him to be done with his important business.
Like a good little wife.