Chapter 6
M arcus
“Please tell me you’re on the pill.” My voice is low and strained as I meet Emma’s horrified gaze.
The post-sex haze is clearing from my head, fast. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’ve never forgotten a condom before. Ever.
Not as a horny teenager and certainly not as an adult.
How do you even forget such a thing? If you’re a single, sexually active man with a modicum of brains, using protection is a habit, one so ingrained you reach for a foil packet at the same time as you unzip your pants.
But today, it didn’t even blip on my radar.
The need to get inside her had been so strong, so overwhelming, that caution and common sense took a long dive off a short pier together.
Looking like she might throw up, Emma shakes her head. “No, I… There was no need after Jim and I—that is, I haven’t… But there’s always the morning-after pill. I’ll go get it now.” She moves to scramble off the bed, and I instinctively catch her wrist.
“Wait. It’s almost one in the morning. Are any pharmacies in the area even open?”
She blinks at me, stumped by the question.
Her curls are a wild, frizzy halo around her flushed face, her lips pink and swollen from my kisses.
With her naked curves on display and her pale skin abraded in a few places by my stubble, she looks freshly fucked and so delicious that even with my alarm over my fuck-up, my cock begins to stiffen again.
Dammit. This can’t be healthy.
“Let me look it up, okay?” I say gruffly, letting go of her and getting off the bed so I can focus. Seeing our clothes on the floor, I pick them up and fold them neatly on a dresser, then pull my phone from my pants’ pocket. As I do so, I catch Emma eyeing me like I’m an alien.
“What?” I ask, and she shakes her head, reaching for a tissue to wipe away the wetness on her leg.
“Nothing. Just noticing how much of a neat freak you are.”
I frown as she balls up the tissue and drops it carelessly on the nightstand.
“I’m not a neat freak.” Though I do have a strong urge to grab that tissue and dispose of it properly.
Glancing down instead, I type “24-hour pharmacy near me” into the search bar on my phone, and at least three places pop up right away, all just a few miles away.
For some bizarre reason, the finding annoys me.
I suppose I expected this beach town to be way less civilized, without such urban luxuries as twenty-four-hour pharmacies.
Now, though, there’s no excuse not to go get the pill—not that I was looking for one.
I’m glad we’ll be able to get this fixed so quickly.
I really am.
“Well?” Emma prompts when I look up. “Are any of the pharmacies open?”
I nod. “I’ll go grab us the pill.”
“Wait, I’m coming with you. Let me just get cleaned up.” Jumping off the bed, she beelines for the attached bathroom, her hair like a flash of fire as she streaks naked across the room.
My cock snaps to full attention, and after a second of deliberation, I follow her into the bathroom.
My blood feels like heated molasses in my veins, my heart pounding heavily in my chest. She’s already reaching into the small stall to turn on the shower, and I place my hands on her luscious hips as I herd her in, arranging us both under the rapidly warming spray.
“Wait, Marcus.” She twists around to face me, her face pinkening with a fresh blush. “Shouldn’t we—”
“Absolutely,” I murmur, and sliding my hands into her hair, I slant my lips across hers in a deep, tongue-tangling kiss.
* * *
She’s still blushing a half hour later as we creep through the living room, trying not to make any noise.
I don’t know why we’re bothering, though.
If Emma’s grandparents were light sleepers, they wouldn’t have been able to go to bed with all the racket in the shower.
My kitten made a lot of noise when she came on my cock—and even more when I slipped a finger into her tight little ass, using soap as lube.
She must be thinking about that too, because her face remains bright pink as we tiptoe out of the house and she locks the door behind us with a set of keys she grabbed from a kitchen drawer.
It’s delicious, that blush of hers, and it makes me want to fuck her all over again. And then again. And again.
Yep. Definitely not healthy—and yet another reason why I need her to move in. Once I’m fucking her every night, this constant burning need is bound to lessen to manageable levels.
I hope.
Placing my hand on the small of her back, I lead her to my rental car, and as I’m opening the door for her, I catch her yawning widely.
It’s contagious, and I immediately have to suppress a yawn of my own.
“You know, we could go tomorrow morning if you’re tired,” I say as she slides into the passenger seat.
“It’s even in the name—the morning-after pill.
If I’m not mistaken, it can be taken within a couple of days of unprotected sex.
” Of course, I did come inside her twice—the second time being in the shower.
I wonder if that ups the odds that the pill won’t work.
Come to think of it, just how effective is the thing?
Is it absolutely certain to work, or will there still be a chance I got Emma pregnant?
Covering another yawn with the back of her hand, she shakes her head. “No, let’s just go. We’re already out here. Might as well.”
“Right.” Fuck, what is wrong with me? Why did I even suggest waiting until morning? I should be racing to the pharmacy like my fund’s performance depends on it, not looking for reasons not to go.
Sliding behind the wheel, I shut the door behind me and start the car. As we pull out of the driveway, the living room window lights up.
Emma’s grandparents are awake and undoubtedly wondering what’s going on.
Sure enough, a second later, Emma’s phone pings. “Crap. Grandma just texted me,” she says, glancing at the screen. “Wants to know if everything’s okay.”
“So what are you going to tell her?”
She blows out a frustrated breath. “What can I tell her? I have to come up with some bullshit excuse, like a headache that I needed urgent medication for, or a prescription I forgot in New York. Of course, then Grandma will worry and—”
“How about you tell her I forgot my medicine in New York?” I suggest. “Say, a course of antibiotics I’m finishing up.
Then all will be explained and she won’t worry.
” Alternatively, we could tell Mary Walsh the truth—I have a feeling she’d be more amused than upset by this situation—but I don’t suggest that.
I don’t think Emma would want her grandparents to know that much about our sex life.
“That’s a good idea,” she says and quickly types a response. A few seconds later, her phone pings again, and she announces triumphantly, “It worked. Grandma is pacified and going back to sleep.”
“Excellent. We make a good team.” Smiling, I glance at her and catch a flash of her dimples as she grins back at me.
“We sure do,” she says, and as I turn my attention back to the road, one hand resting on my knee, I feel her small hand cover my palm, her fingers lacing through mine in a gentle squeeze.