Chapter 14
M alachi
Kneeling over Emmeline, I wrenched her jeans open and yanked them off her. “I told you not to go out of sight. Anyone could try to take you.”
With her pink lips parted, she gazed up at me. “But?—”
“No buts. You disobeyed me, and now I need to fuck you hard and fast to show you what that did to me.”
The minx hid a smile.
God-fucking-dammit. This was no punishment. Not for either of us. I dragged up her top and unclipped the front fastening of her bra so her tits spilled free. Then I was all over them, biting and sucking her nipples and leaving marks while she moaned.
What she didn’t know was that, before I’d started sparring, Bill had told me someone had come here looking for me. A man had been seen skirting the gym, then when challenged, had asked for me by name. He’d refused to say his own, and the CCTV image Bill showed me gave me nothing. The asshole had his baller cap pulled down low and a thick coat covering his frame. He was big which indicated someone on the MMA scene, but there was no familiarity otherwise.
I didn’t like it. It had rattled me, and though I’d tried to ignore it, I couldn’t help but feel my woman was in danger if someone was after me.
Emmeline squirmed against me and glided her soft hands over my biceps. I caught her wrists and held them above her head.
“Spread those legs wide for me.”
She obeyed, her heels digging into the mat. I stripped my shorts and rubbed the head of my cock up and down her slit, punching inside in one swift move that had her crying out.
“I’m not a reasonable man.” I punctuated my words with hard thrusts. “It’s going to take me some time to handle how I feel about you.”
I fucked her into the mat in a way I’d dreamed about from the first second I’d laid eyes on her.
“When I couldn’t see you, that freaked me out. My home is secure. This place isn’t. I have rabid fans who can be unpredictable. I can be a target for men who want to challenge me. Your safety matters more than I can say.”
She’d closed her eyes, but opened them now, curiosity there.
“If I tell you to stay where I can see you, fucking do it.”
Emmeline nodded feverishly then tipped her head back. This time, though, I wasn’t waiting around. Holding her hips, I rocketed into her and came with a rough growl.
Always, I made her come first, usually multiple times.
I’d broken the pattern on purpose.
When my head was clear enough to produce words through my ragged breath, I said, “You’ll wear my cum for the rest of my training session. Then when we get out of here and return to your place, I’ll make up for the orgasm you just missed. Consider the waiting an incentive to behave better. Am I understood?”
Emmeline grabbed my neck and pulled me in for a kiss. It turned hot and heavy in an instant, and she collected one of my hands and pushed it down her body.
I broke away and shook my head, drawing the tip of my nose against hers. “Not now. Later, if you’re good.”
Her pretty pout stayed with me the whole time while I worked through the rest of my training.
When I was finally done, we left the gym and drove back into central Deadwater.
Outside of Emmeline’s place, I parked behind her car, blocking her space and that of her terrible neighbour. We jogged upstairs, and the moment we were inside, I held her against the door, driving my hand into her jeans and finding her soaked.
It made me grin. “So wet for me.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m not wearing jeans again. I spent the rest of your training session worried I’d have a wet patch.”
I shrugged and stripped them from her, kneeling to take off her underwear, too. “Everyone knew what we did. They’d hardly be surprised.”
Any other complaint she had was lost when I drew her leg over my shoulder and fitted my mouth to her beautiful cunt.
No doubt her cries made it down the hall for her asshole neighbour to hear.
I made her come on my tongue then freed my dick and fucked her against the door, rattling it with every hit while her feet dangled a foot from the floor.
After, Emmeline hopped in the shower. We were here to pick up a suit, as she’d received a formal meeting request for her job upgrade. While she was washing up, a phone rang in her lounge.
An answerphone kicked in, and a man’s voice played out. “Emmeline, it’s Ian. I just heard from Annie that you’ve cancelled our date. You’ve made a mistake, and here’s why.”
He cleared his throat, his tone clear, loud, and annoyed. “I’m a catch. I have a great job, and women want me. You won’t find better than me, particularly at your age. You’re pretty enough, but that won’t last for long. In a few years, no man is going to consider you, despite the respectable career you’re in. I really am your final option.”
At the start of the call, I’d laughed. Now, I glared at the flashing phone.
Ian wasn’t done. “Because I liked the idea of you, I’m going to pretend you didn’t insult me with your refusal and I’ll graciously give you a second chance. You will ring Annie and agree to the date, saying you were hormonal or some shit to explain your typical female mind-changing. At the dinner, you’ll wear a low-cut dress to show me you’re sorry. If you’re polite and willing, I’ll give you a second date. Pick up the phone to tell me you agree. I know you’re there, but I’m not going to forgive you screening the call for long.”
I was overstepping. Fuck it, no I wasn’t. I snatched up the handset and interrupted the answerphone message.
Ian clucked his tongue. “There you are. It isn’t hard to be polite, is it?”
“Search Malachi Hunan on your phone,” I said low. “I’ll wait.”
A pause came. “Who?—”
“I’ve told you exactly who. Do as I ask, Ian.”
A tapping followed.
“That’s me you’re looking at,” I informed him. “My face and my body. You’re probably scrolling past images of me covered in other men’s blood. Put yourself in the frame for a second, then realise what you’ve done. Emmeline Watts is not in your future. She’s not yours to belittle and to be so rude to. I wonder if your parents ever taught you any manners. She’s mine. Mine completely. Mine in every way. Do you get me?”
“I… I…”
“Say yes, Ian.”
“Yes, I get you, Mr Hunan.”
“Good. Now Emmeline’s friend, Annie, will know if you’re going on other dates. If I hear on the grapevine that you’ve talked to a woman like this again, I’ll happily give you that lesson in manners myself. Now fuck off and lose this number.”
He waffled a stuttered apology, but I tossed the phone back on the cradle in disgust.
Dimly, I recognised that the noise of the shower had stopped. I turned and found Emmeline in a white towel in the doorway.
She stared at me.
I pulled a face. “How much of that did you hear?”
“Enough.”
“That guy was an asshole. I won’t apologise for what I said.”
“Did I ask you to?”
My dick stirred at the challenge in her voice.
She stepped over to me, holding the towel at her chest. “I didn’t hear every word, but from your reaction, I got the gist. Thank you for telling him off.”
“You’re not mad that I went all caveman?”
“I like you that way. You are unashamedly forthright. You don’t respect social niceties that enable men like him to behave like that. Most people would ignore or laugh off Ian. But you didn’t, and you know what? He might listen. This attitude is just one of the things that I adore about you.”
I groaned and swept her into my arms, kissing the hell out of her perfect mouth. I wanted to get into that far more. I desperately needed to know her feelings for me were changing and solidifying like mine were for her. Except we didn’t have time.
This evening, my daughters were coming to stay. It would be a new test for our relationship and one I meant to ace, meaning we couldn’t be late.
With the suit secured and Emmeline dressed again, we drove home. Shortly after, a taxi pulled up.
Emmeline crushed my hand in hers. “That’s them, isn’t it?”
“Deep breath. They’re going to love you. You know why? Because I do.” I threw open the door and jogged out to them.
As predicted, Petra flung herself at me with wide eyes for Emmeline. “Is that her, Dad? She’s so pretty.”
“It is. This is Emmeline. Em, this is Petra and Maisie.”
I had an open chat thread with my girls where we sent mostly memes and emojis to each other every day. A few days ago, I’d shared a photograph of me with Emmeline so they knew they’d be meeting her. My youngest was thrilled. My oldest? Not so much.
Maisie slouched from the cab and gave Emmeline a dark stare, poking her tongue into her cheek. She looked so like me with her grouchy judgement, it was ridiculous. Luckily, that meant I knew exactly how to bring her along.
I dragged her into a one-armed hug—about as much as I could get from the teenager now—and towed her in out of the cold. “Training go well last night?”
She grunted, scowling at her sister now who’d dared smile at whatever Emmeline was telling her. “Not really.”
“Any area in particular that’s bothering you?”
Maisie had done martial arts from age six, but last year had declared she wanted to follow me into being an MMA fighter. I’d set her up with a training regime but mostly stayed out of it, assuming she wanted to learn the basics before asking her ultra-uncool father for guidance.
In the hall, she tossed down her bag and kicked it. “Striking. I suck at it. My trainer has been trying to teach me about the kinetic chain, and it just won’t go from my head to my body.”
The kinetic chain was the principle of using a chain of force from the ground up to put ultimate power behind your move. Every muscle aligned and balanced to deliver the strike. It meant the difference between a hit and a knockout.
My specialist subject.
I raised a shoulder. “You’re asking the expert. Over the weekend, I’ll walk you through it. I can even take you to my gym one day, if you’ll let me help.”
It was the right thing to say. With teenagers, it was hard to be sure they were either listening or gave a crap. But I couldn’t miss her tiny sign that I was on the right track.
“Maybe,” she gave up.
Which meant a big fat yes to me. It also almost dragged a smile to her face when Emmeline brought her into the conversation with an insta-enamoured Petra.
Our weekend went so smoothly, it was a dream.
Christmas was coming, so we piled in my car and drove out to buy a tree, acting like the family I wanted us to become. I gave Maisie the training session which didn’t go horribly. Petra and Emmeline made paper decorations. We even went to a farmers’ market where I bored the girls about eating healthily.
On Sunday night, I asked Maisie to help me cook dinner.
She chopped vegetables, and I loaded a chicken into the oven then rested my elbows on the counter beside her. “Verdict time. What do you think of Emmeline?”
She shrugged.
If there was one thing she valued more than her attack skills, it was insider knowledge.
“I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
Maisie gaped. “Does she know?”
“Not yet.”
“How long have you even known her?”
“Long enough to be sure.” The ten-second glimpse in the warehouse had done it.
My daughter eyed Emmeline again. “Do you think you’ll have more kids?”
Their mother had a newborn. The girls had stayed with me for a month straight as no one was getting any sleep, and the transition for them had been rough. “No. We have you both. That’s plenty.”
She sniffed. “Whatever.”
I hugged her, getting an elbow to the ribs for my trouble. “When the time comes, I might need your help.”
“Seriously, Dad, you’re so cringe.”
I definitely was. Emmeline couldn’t be left in any doubt at the end of our thirty days. I’d show her all the crazy I’d tried to conceal. The world would know she was mine.