Chapter 26 Joelle
JOELLE
That night, I'm lying in bed staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment. The way he looked with those kids, the softness in his voice when he talked about his dad. The heat in his eyes when he said he can't stop thinking about me.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I grab it, expecting Collette or Polly. But I'm surprised when I see who it is.
Emmett: You left in a hurry today.
My heart kicks. I should ignore it. I should put my phone down and go to sleep like a normal person who isn't developing a dangerous obsession with her brothers' teammate.
Joelle: I was finished. And Collette was waiting for me.
Emmett: Liar.
Joelle: You keep calling me that.
Emmett: Because you keep lying.
I bite my lip.
Joelle: Maybe you don't know me as well as you think.
Emmett: I know some things.
Joelle: Like what?
Emmett: I know you liked watching me today.
Joelle: I was doing my job.
Emmett: I know you couldn't stop staring.
Joelle: You're delusional.
Emmett: I know you bit your lip when I made that joke about being hard.
Shit. He noticed that.
Joelle: I did not.
Emmett: Liar. Again.
I'm grinning at my phone like an idiot. This is dangerous. This is so fucking dangerous.
Joelle: Don't you have better things to do than text me?
Emmett: No.
Emmett: Do you want me to stop?
I stare at the screen. This is my out. I can say yes, and he'll stop. We'll go back to loaded glances and pretending nothing is happening.
Joelle: No.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
Emmett: What are you wearing?
I laugh out loud, then slap my hand over my mouth, hoping Collette didn't hear.
Joelle: Seriously? That's your move?
Emmett: Just curious.
Joelle: A T-shirt.
Emmett: That's it?
Joelle: And underwear. Why?
Emmett: Just picturing it.
Heat floods my cheeks. And lower.
Joelle: You shouldn't be picturing anything.
Emmett: Too late.
Emmett: I've been picturing a lot of things lately.
My breath catches.
Joelle: Emmett ...
Emmett: I think about that night all the time.
Emmett: The sounds you made.
Emmett: The way you tasted.
I squeeze my thighs together. This is escalating fast, and I should stop it. I should absolutely stop it.
Joelle: We can't do this.
Emmett: We're not doing anything. Just talking.
Joelle: This isn't just talking.
Emmett: Then what is it?
I don't have an answer for that. Or I do. But I'm not ready to admit it.
Joelle: Dangerous.
Emmett: I know.
Emmett: Still can't stop.
Joelle: Me neither.
There's a long pause. I watch the screen. Heart pounding. Waiting.
Emmett: Touch yourself.
I nearly drop the phone.
Joelle: What?
Emmett: You heard me.
Joelle: I'm not doing that.
Emmett: Why not?
Joelle: Because you told me to.
Emmett: What if I asked nicely?
Joelle: Still no.
Emmett: What if I told you I'm already hard just thinking about you in that T-shirt?
My hand drifts down my stomach before I can stop it.
Joelle: That's not fair.
Emmett: I don't play fair. You should know that by now.
Emmett: Are you touching yourself?
I stare at the screen. My fingers have stopped just above the waistband of my underwear.
Joelle: No.
Emmett: Liar.
Emmett: I bet your hand is already halfway there.
Joelle: You're cocky.
Emmett: I'm right.
He is. I hate that he is.
Emmett: I want to hear you.
My phone rings before I can respond, I nearly drop it out of surprise. His name flashes on the screen. This is insane. I should not answer this.
I answer it.
"Hi." My voice comes out breathless.
"Fuck." His voice is low. Rough. "You sound like that already?"
"Like what?"
"Like you're turned on."
I close my eyes. "Maybe I am." This is wrong but ...
"Are you touching yourself?"
"Not yet."
"Do it."
"I told you I don't take orders."
He laughs. Low and dark. "Then do it because you want to. Because you're wet and aching and you can't stop thinking about me."
"Maybe I'm thinking about someone else."
A deep guttural growl echoes through my phone. "You’d better not be thinking about someone else in this moment."
"I'm not," I reassure him. It was kind of hot that he got jealous. I've lost it. My hand slides beneath the waistband of my underwear. I gasp when my fingers find how wet I am.
"That's it," he breathes. "I heard that. You're touching yourself now, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"How wet are you?"
"So wet." I moan.
"Because of me?"
"Hmmm."
I hear rustling on his end, then a low groan. "I've had my hand on my cock since you told me what you were wearing."
The image hits me hard. Emmett in bed. His hand wrapped around himself. Thinking about me.
"Tell me what you're thinking about," he says.
"London."
"What about London?"
"Your mouth." My fingers circle my clit, and I bite back a moan.
"Where was my mouth?" He knows exactly where his mouth was. He's making me say it.
"Between my legs."
"I think about that all the time." His voice is strained now. "The way you grabbed my hair and pulled. The way you moaned my name when you came on my tongue." A whimper escapes me. "That's it, sweetheart. Let me hear you."
"Emmett ..." My hips lift off the bed.
"Are you close?"
"Yes."
"Slow down."
"You can't tell me what to ..."
"Slow down," he repeats, his voice is a command. "I want to enjoy this."
I force myself to ease up. Fingers slowing. The ache building unbearably.
"Good girl."
I moan at that. I can't help it.
"You like that?" He sounds pleased. "You like being my good girl?"
"Shut up."
"Make me." He chuckles.
"I would if you were here."
"What would you do if I was there?" His voice is low and gravelly.
I let myself imagine it. Him in my bed. Over me. Inside me. "I'd wrap my hand around your cock," I whisper.
His breath hitches. "Yeah?"
"I'd stroke you slow. Make you beg."
"Fuck, Joelle."
"Then I'd put my mouth on you."
He groans. Low and desperate. "You're killing me."
"Good."
"Faster now," he says. "Touch yourself faster."
I obey, my fingers moving in quick circles. The pressure builds. Coiling tight.
"I can hear how close you are," he breathes. "Your breathing's changed. You're about to come, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"I want to hear it. Don't hold back."
"Collette might ..."
"I don't care. I want to hear you fall apart."
My fingers move faster. The tension crests.
"Come for me, Joelle. Think about my cock inside you when you do."
That's all it takes. I shatter. Crying out before I can stop myself. My whole body shakes through wave after wave. On the other end of the phone, I hear him groan my name as he follows me over. For a long moment, there's just the sound of our ragged breathing.
"Fuck," he finally says.
"Yeah."
"This is going to be a problem."
"I know."
Silence stretches between us.
"Goodnight, Trouble."
"Goodnight, Captain."
I hang up and stare at the ceiling. My whole body is still buzzing. What have I done?