11. Emory
11
EMORY
It’s one of those chaotic days at work again. Emberfield Memorial is a small-ish community hospital, so we don't usually see as many severe cases as the big city hospitals, but today is an exception. We've had ten severe flu cases from a local nursing home outbreak, a hit-and-run, and an explosion at a nearby chemical plant. The number of patients with third-degree burns has been overwhelming, so we've had to bring in a mobile burn unit from another hospital to help manage the load.
By the time my shift is almost over, especially on a day like today, I usually feel relieved. I love my job, and I can't imagine doing anything else, but there's something special about changing into fresh scrubs at the end of a shift, knowing I've got a cozy night ahead of me at home with the couch, blanket, and a mindless TV show. Today, though, as the clock ticks closer to six, I feel more nervous than relieved. It all started when I finally checked my phone, only to see another text from Jaxon with a new number.
Unknown: I really need to see you, Princess. Give me five minutes.
I deleted it and blocked it again, but it put things in perspective. If I’m strong enough to ignore Jaxon, maybe I’m strong enough to pursue Luke.
It's been three days since I woke up wrapped in a warm blanket of soft skin and muscles. I crave him—there's no other way to put it. We haven't spoken much since that night, just a few flirty texts. We've been like two ships passing in the night. He took on a second job bartending in the evenings on top of his construction work. Since I start my day early, we keep missing each other. But when we chatted this morning, he mentioned he had the night off tonight. That’s when I decided to put on my big girl panties and ask Luke to take the next step.
We haven’t done anything besides kiss that one time and sleep in the same bed, also once, but I want more. For the first time in years, I want to have sex with a man, and that scares the shit out of me. Sure, I’ve been attracted to men since my last relationship. But not once, not one single time since Jaxon, have I felt like I could be sexually intimate with another person. I wish I could be more like Allie. I wish sex wasn’t so tied to emotions for me. But it is. Or was.
When I woke up next to Luke, something shifted inside me. I felt ready to take things further. Maybe it wouldn't be a disaster. Maybe I could do just sex. No strings. No stupid emotions. You’ve had feelings for Luke since you were twelve. The voice in my head is loud, but I push it aside. No—nope. I am going to talk to Luke. Screw my brother. Screw my fear of intimacy. Screw my trauma.
It only took the eight-minute ride home for me to talk myself out of propositioning Luke. Morning me must have been crazy to think we'd actually knock on some stranger's door and ask for casual sex. Now, the idea seems ridiculous, and I start to chuckle as I pull into my driveway. At least I'm laughing at myself, instead of Luke laughing at me as he politely shuts the door in my face. I'm still giggling as I turn off the car and get out, but my laughter stops when I see Allie sitting on the front steps, her head in her lap. As I get closer, she lifts her head, and I see the red splotches around her eyes. She looks defeated. I've never seen her like this before. Usually, she's inside cooking dinner or scrolling through her phone, waiting for me to get home. When she looks up, her face is a mess. She's been off for a few days. She didn't even give me a hard time about Luke being in my bed, which isn't like her. I think something is going on with her mom, but she doesn't seem to want to talk about it. I know better than to push Allie to do something she doesn't want to do.
“Hi,” she sighs.
“What happened?”
“Oh, you mean besides my life slowly crumbling into the depths of despair?”
“Yeah, besides that.” I sit beside her on the step.
“There was a leak in the kitchen from under the sink. I was working and didn’t even notice it until there was an inch of water on the floor. The plumber came and fixed the leak, but I called like four water damage companies, and no one can come out until tomorrow. I mopped up everything as best as I could, but the floors are still damp. They need to be professionally dried out.”
“Shit, Allie. I'm sorry you had to handle that by yourself,” I say, feeling guilty. Since Allie works from home, it's usually up to her to sort things out when something goes wrong. She never even calls or texts me about household issues because she knows how chaotic work can get for me.
“Honestly, this is not the worst thing I have going on right now, but I don’t want our floors to get damaged. If the water sits there too long, we will probably have to replace them.”
I want to get into what else she has going on that is worse than our kitchen flooding, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned at work, it’s that triaging is vital. I rack my brain for a way to fix our most pressing issue. Then, I glance at the truck sitting in Luke’s driveway, and it comes to me. Just thought you should have my number too. You know, in case you have a construction emergency. This definitely qualifies as a construction emergency. Or at least construction-adjacent.
“I might have an idea,” I say as I stand up. I march over to Luke’s door, and despite telling myself I wasn’t going to do this, I knock. There’s the sound of some shuffling, and then he opens the door.
“Hey,” he greets me, and it’s so effortless.
“Hi.” I’m both surprised and horrified by how low and raspy my voice sounds. I clear my throat. “Any chance that construction emergency offer still stands?”
“Of course. What’s up?”
“We had a leak in our kitchen. It was fixed, but we need to dry out the floor. No one is available until tomorrow.”
He nods in understanding. “No problem. Let me make a quick call, but I’ve got you.”
“Really?” I’m so relieved I could kiss him. You already wanted to kiss him. I ignore my inner voice because she’s smug as hell and settle for a “thank you” instead.
Luke holds up his finger as he brings his phone to his ear. He talks with someone for under a minute and then looks back at me. “All set. Marco is coming with some industrial fans. He should be here in fifteen. They’ll need to run all night to make sure everything is completely dry.”
“No problem. Thanks again! You seriously saved us tonight.”
“It’s the least I could do. You did risk your job and good name to stitch me up, after all.”
“That is true. Well, thanks all the same. I’m going to go tell Allie the good news.”
“Hey, Em.” He calls as I turn around, and my stomach dips. “The fans are loud. Like madness-inducing loud. Even with the doors closed and headphones on, you can still hear them. I just set up a guest room. A few of my buddies are visiting this weekend, so it’s all ready to go. If you and Allie want to crash here tonight—it’s no problem. I mean, it’s just there. As a guest room. And no one is in there. Yet. Not until this weekend. It’s a queen-sized bed,” he adds at the end.
A smile spreads across my face. Is Luke Collins nervously babbling? Is he nervous to ask me to stay at his house for the night? I can’t seem to wrap my head around this man. One minute, he’s this tough, tattooed, motorcycle-riding, leather-jacket guy who hauls me out of a bar over his shoulder, and the next, he’s shy about asking me to spend the night in his guest room.
“Thank you for the offer. I’ll talk to Allie,” I say as I walk out.
It turns out Allie is more excited to crash at Luke's than I expected. She dashes inside, grabs her overnight bag, and is already on her way to his house before I can even take a look at the kitchen mess for myself. Marco arrives a few minutes later and quickly sets up his gear. I thank him before changing out of my scrubs and into a T-shirt and sweats. Then I pack a bag and head to Luke's.
I knock on the door and peek inside. “We're in the living room,” Luke calls out.
“We just ordered pizza,” he says as I walk over and take in the scene. Allie is snuggled up in a fuzzy blanket with basketballs on it, sitting on Luke's couch, while Luke sits in an armchair, sipping a beer. Their eyes are fixed on the TV, where my favorite Alaska house-hunting show is playing. What the hell did I just walk in on here?
“Allie told me you're a fan of this show. And pizza, right? I got a pie with half mushrooms and half peppers. Hope you're good with that.”
“Yeah—of course. Thank you.” I take my shoes off, sit next to Allie, and try to grab some of her blanket for myself, but she tugs it back.
Luke sees our blanket tug-of-war and goes to the closet, grabbing another fuzzy blanket with footballs on it and draping it over me.
“How many sports-themed blankets do you own?”
“Enough.” He winks.
I giggle and snuggle under the blanket, getting it just right, and suddenly I'm in heaven—blissful and cozy as I watch my favorite show.
After several episodes of the Alaska show and more slices of pizza than I care to admit, I realize it's time to call it a night. Allie is a night owl and stays up until midnight most nights, but I have to get up at dawn, so I’m usually in bed by nine on work nights. I have no idea when Luke goes into work, but I imagine he gets an early start as well. I nudge Allie and give her a look that says, “We should get out of this guy’s hair for the night.” She rolls her eyes, stands, and announces, “I’m sleeping with this blanket.” Then she trots into the guest room like a damn cat.
I take that as my cue, and Luke and I do an awkward dance, trying to figure out how we should say goodnight. A kiss on the cheek? Fist bump? Head pat?
“I'm off to bed too. Night,” I say finally. “Thanks for letting us crash and for the pizza.” Luke had insisted on paying, despite my offer to buy it as a thank you for hosting us. He wouldn't hear of it, so I gave in. Later, I discreetly left a twenty-dollar bill in his fridge, tucked under a beer bottle in the back, hoping he wouldn't find it until tomorrow.
“Anytime, Little Wells,” he says before closing the space between us and gently kissing my forehead.
That's his move? A forehead kiss—the most intimate gesture out there. I respond by slowly backing out of the room, but I trip on one of Allie's shoes and almost fall on my butt. Again. Then I make a quick exit.
The tossing and turning that follows is intense. It lasts long after Allie stops checking her phone and starts snoring softly beside me. The bed is surprisingly comfortable. Luke picked out really soft, nice sheets for the guest room bed. Unlike most guys, who would have gone for the cheapest option, Luke thought about his guests' comfort.
I've had many sleepless nights, but this one feels unique. It's as if I can sense Luke's proximity, yet he's still too far away. I want him to be wrapped around me like he was a few mornings ago. I want to be enveloped in his strong arms, feeling his chest rise and fall, and basking in the warmth emanating from his skin. Instead, he's right next door, in his own bed, sleeping like a baby, blissfully unaware of the tortured girl unable to sleep down the hall. This is pure agony.
I glance at my phone. It's already after one in the morning. I've got to be up in three hours. I rip the covers off and jump out of bed. I need some fresh air. I head to the kitchen, grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and hope Luke doesn't have an alarm system as I open the sliding door to the back deck. Luckily, no alarms sound. I look around. Luke doesn't have much furniture out here—just a couple of loungers with a small wooden table in between. I drop onto one of the loungers. A gust of wind blows through the trees, and I shiver, goosebumps sheeting my arms. I'm wearing my usual pajamas—a long T-shirt and underwear. I didn't think to grab sweatpants or a jacket before coming out here.
“Blanket?" A sleepy male voice behind me makes me almost jump out of my skin.
“Oh my God. Where did you come from?”
“Inside the house,” Luke deadpans.
“You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry. I thought you might be cold.” He drapes the same football blanket from earlier over my legs.
“How did you know I was out here?”
“Heard the door. I’m a light sleeper.”
“Shit—sorry I woke you. I can’t sleep, and I thought some air would help.”
“It’s okay. I usually wake up a couple of times a night anyway. Why can’t you sleep? Is the bed uncomfortable?” My heart stutters at the obvious concern etched on his face.
“No, no. It’s great. I just—sometimes I have a lot running through my mind, and it’s hard to fall asleep.”
“I've been there.” He takes the lounger next to me, puts his hands behind his head, and crosses his legs at the bottom of the chair. “You know what always helps me sleep?”
“What?” I ask as I take a sip of my water.
“An orgasm.”
Water sprays out of my mouth like a fountain and dribbles down my chin. “W-what?”
“You heard me. I can help you out. Just say the word.”
“Luke.”
“Emory.”
“You—we can’t.”
“Why is that?” His gaze is steady, unrelenting.
“Well, for one, you’re Nate’s best friend.” And for two, I haven’t been sexually intimate with anyone since my ex shattered my heart into a million pieces and left me bleeding out on the floor, but I don’t say that.
Isn’t this what you wanted this morning?
I ignore the relentless voice in my head. Maybe he’s just joking. He has to be joking. There’s no way he is seriously offering to get me off right now.
Luke looks around the empty deck. “I don’t see Nate anywhere. Do you?”
“Of course not, but?—”
“Emory, I helped him warn guys to stay away from you. I know how he is.”
“Then you know this won’t end well.” I don’t think I even care about Nate right now, but I’m scared. He’ll make me feel good for a night, but at what cost?
“I don't care how it ends,” Luke says. There’s a sternness in his voice I haven’t heard before. Not even when he was hauling me out of the bar. “I'm more concerned with how it's going to start.”
Luke sits up, facing me, and looks straight into my eyes. “Nate doesn’t own you, Emory. You’re an adult and this isn’t the eighteenth century. He doesn’t get a say in your sex life. It was one thing when we were in high school. He had his reasons…” he trails off.
His reasons? I’m not sure what he’s referring to, but he’s right. Nate doesn’t own me, and it’s about time I took control of my own fucking life.
A chill runs down my spine, and I prepare myself, sensing that something is about to happen—something that will change everything. I can feel it.
“What's the second reason?”
“What?”
“You said Nate was the first reason. What’s the second?”
I try to come up with another reason without recounting my entire ugly past, but apparently my brain has closed down for business without letting me know.
“I…”
Tension crackles in the atmosphere as Luke inches closer to me.
“That’s what I thought. Come here.”
The fog in my head lifts for a brief moment.
“Why?” I blurt.
“Why?” he repeats, moving even closer. “You want me to say what we both know? Is that it? I fucking want you, Emory. I wanted you a month ago when you fell in front of your house. I wanted you when you pretended to check your mail, and when you got out of that guy's car. I wanted you when you crawled in the mud to get back at me, and when you ripped your shirt to stop my bleeding, and when you kissed me like I was your air. I wanted you when you were being a brat at the bar, and I had to carry you out. I wanted you when you asked me to stay with you and fell asleep in my arms. And now I don't just want you—I need you. You drive me crazy. I don't care that you're Nate's little sister. Right now, all I need is to make you feel good.”
I'm not sure if it's his confession or the rush of adrenaline, but my nervous energy suddenly gives way to a bold confidence I never knew I had.
“Okay,” I say, surprised by the determination in my own voice. I'm tired of thinking. Tired of fighting myself. Tired of always doing what I think everyone else wants. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow or a week from now. All I know is that I want Luke’s hands on me.
“Okay, what, Emory? You’re going to have to be really fucking specific because my self-control is hanging by a thread here.”
“What you said earlier.”
“Nope.” He leans in closer, his face mere inches from mine. “You have to say it.”
I huff out a breath. “Make me come, Luke,” I whisper.
I see the exact moment that his last shred of control breaks, his icy eyes turning almost black as he pats his thigh.
“Come here.”
“Wait—here? Outside?”
“Yes, Emory. Here. This is what you want, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then stop fucking stalling and sit on my lap.”
I don’t think. I just do as I’m told, taking the blanket off my legs and sliding over the side of my chair to sink down on his lap, my back against his heaving chest. Gone is the man who was nervous about asking me to stay at his house. This version of Luke is commanding and dominant, and if I’m being honest, hot as all hell.
He leans us back on the lounger and pulls my shirt up so my breasts are exposed. I’m so hot I don’t even notice the chill in the air anymore. He squeezes my breast and then moves his thumb over my nipple, flicking it lightly before rolling it between his thumb and index finger. The move goes straight to my core, and I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips.
“Uh-uh,” he chides. “You have to be quiet. We don’t want to wake up the neighbors, Emory. Can you be quiet for me, or do I need to cover your mouth?”
His hand leaves my nipple and glides further and further down until his fingers reach my panties. He dips one finger beneath the waistband.
“No, I’ll be—fuck.” How has he only just grazed my clit, and I already feel like I’m going to come?
“Mmm, cover your mouth it is.” He brings his hand up and holds it firmly against my lips. Then he continues to stroke my clit with his other hand. Up and down. With each stroke, I moan against his palm, but it comes out muffled.
“You’re so responsive, Em, and you’re fucking soaked. You like getting your clit rubbed, baby?”
I nod frantically and make another strangled sound.
“That’s what I thought,” he hums. “I bet you would like getting your pussy stuffed with my fingers, too.”
I try to say “yes,” but it’s barely audible with his hand firmly pressed against my lips.
“What’s that? I can’t hear you. Guess I’ll have to take that gush I just felt as a yes.” He thrusts a finger in me. I almost cry out against his hand on my mouth, but I manage to restrain myself, and it comes out as a whimper instead.
“Jesus, you’re tight.” He adds a second finger and continues to push in and out. I can already feel an orgasm building when he adds a third finger. I’m so wet, I can hear the slurping sounds he makes with each thrust, and it’s downright pornographic. I’m close. So close I can feel myself tipping over the edge. But just when I feel it peaking, he suddenly slows down and moves his hand away from my mouth.
No, no, no. I was almost there.
“Not yet, baby. Soon,” he coos in my ear. “I want to taste you first. You’d like that, huh? If I lick your clit while I’m finger-fucking you?”
God, this man’s dirty talk is going to be the death of me.
“Emory? I asked you a question,” Luke says, lazily gliding his finger around the perimeter of my pussy but not penetrating. “Answer me.”
“You asked a question?” I mutter.
“Yeah, baby.” With soft hands on my hips, he guides my body off him and drops to his knees in front of me. He’s so close that it takes a few seconds for my lust-addled brain to catch up, and I think for a moment I’m going to freak out, but I don’t. Luke’s hands brush against my thighs as he grabs the edge of my panties.
“Is this okay?” he whispers.
I nod, and he slowly pulls them down, tossing them to the side of the deck.
He holds my leg and peppers kisses up the inside of my thigh. My breathing is erratic, my heart thundering beneath my chest.
“Are you sure this is okay?” Luke asks again. His eyes are questioning, unsure. Not like the commanding Luke from a few moments ago.
“Yes, I just—this is new for me,” I admit.
Luke looks momentarily conflicted before he speaks.
“You mean all of this,” he moves his finger in a circular motion. “Or…”
“I’m not a virgin,” I say quietly. “I mean, this specifically…” I motion to him on the floor in front of me. My cheeks heat, shame rising to the surface. What adult woman who has been in a serious relationship for four years has never gotten oral?
My shame is short-lived when I notice Luke’s eyes have turned pitch black.
“You’re telling me that no one has ever eaten this pussy?”
I nod.
“Because you never wanted it?” he clarifies.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not an answer, Emory. Is it because you didn’t think you would like it, or something else?”
“Something else,” I say softly.
“But you want it now?” His eyes search mine. This is the third time he has asked for my consent, making sure I truly want what he’s offering. God, do I want it.
“Yes,” I say simply.
“Then I’m gonna fuck you with my tongue, but you’re gonna have to be quiet. I can’t cover your mouth from down here.”
I nod again, this time more urgently.
“Good girl.” He lets out a low laugh as he moves his head down, hitching my leg over his shoulder. He licks a line up from my pussy to my clit, and I nearly buck off the chair, but I do my best not to call out. He continues licking and fingering me, speeding up his rhythm as he circles the little bundle of nerves with his tongue. When he sucks my entire clit into his mouth, I can’t hold back anymore. Warmth spreads up my body, stars form behind my eyelids, and I explode, screaming out his name. He shoots up, leaving his fingers still buried deep inside me and slaps his hand over my mouth, swallowing the remainder of my cries.
“That’s it, baby,” he says as he continues to thrust his fingers, wringing out every last bit of pleasure from my trembling body. “You did so well.”
When the last of my aftershocks subside and I stop shaking, Luke removes his hand from my mouth. I’m a sweaty mess, but he doesn’t seem to care. He pulls his fingers out and brings his pointer to his mouth, licking and sucking on it like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.
He sees me eyeing him and puts the other two fingers that were inside me to my lips. “Mmmm, so good. Taste yourself, baby.” I touch one finger to my tongue before taking the whole thing into my mouth. Luke takes that as an invitation to gently guide the other one into my mouth, and now I’m licking and sucking like he was a minute ago.
“Fucking delicious,” he groans.
He picks up my abandoned underwear and slides it back up my legs. “It’s late, and you need to be up early. You should try to get some sleep. Maybe that did the trick.”
How can he be so casual after he just turned my entire world upside down? As I sit up, I notice the rather large tent in his sweatpants. I’ve known he was hard this whole time. I could feel it nudging my back when I first sat on his lap, but I was so preoccupied I completely forgot about it. He sees me ogling and adjusts himself.
“Eyes up here, Em.”
“Sorry, but—that looks painful. Can I?—”
“No.”
“No?”
“This isn’t about me. It’s about helping you sleep. Remember?”
“Yeah, but I can return the favor. Help you sleep?”
“You can take something without having to give anything back, Emory. It’s allowed.” He stands up and walks to the sliding glass door. “Plus, you can always return the favor when it’s not the middle of the night, and you don’t have to be up in two hours. In the meantime, I’m fully capable of putting myself to sleep,” he says with a wink.
Just like that, the corny, sweet guy I knew in high school is back—as if he didn’t just alter my brain chemistry with his tongue. And now I’m going to imagine him touching himself mere feet from me for the rest of the night. So much for getting any sleep despite the earth-shattering orgasm.
“Night, Little Wells,” he says. Then he’s gone, and I’m left wondering what the fuck just happened. Luke fingered me on his back porch. Luke Collins—the man who acted like I didn’t exist for years—made me come. Within minutes of touching me. I’ve never come that fast in my life.
As I make my way back to the guest room on unsteady legs, it hits me that what just happened was the most intimate experience of my life. Jaxon was more of the “get in and get out” type. It was usually quick and rarely romantic.
Even the first time.
Snap out of it, Emory. You do not need to ruin a perfectly good orgasm high by thinking about the night you lost your virginity.
I can’t seem to help comparing this to my only other sexual relationship. Jaxon never, and I mean never, would have even entertained the idea of getting me off without getting anything in return. He could barely get me off to begin with…
You can take something without having to give anything back.
Luke’s words ring in my ears as I use the light of my phone to see while I change out of my completely ruined underwear and into a fresh pair. He’s right. I never take without giving something back in return. Whenever Jaxon did something nice, even early on in our relationship, I always felt like I owed him something. Over time, he stopped giving and just kept taking. Until there was nothing left for him to take.
But he must have left something behind. A tiny part of my real self that took root. Over time, that small piece has grown, and I didn't even notice until tonight—until Luke showed me that I could reclaim what Jaxon had stolen from me. I knew getting physical with someone again would bring up all the emotional baggage I'd packed away in my closet of shame, but I didn't realize it would make me feel stronger.
As I pull the covers back and settle into bed, I glance over at Allie, who's pretending to be asleep. I can tell because one of her eyes flickers open to peek at me, then quickly shuts when she sees me looking.
“I know you’re awake, Al.”
“Did you honestly think I could sleep through you screaming the house down?”
“You…um, heard?” Thankfully, it's dark enough that she can't see the blush creeping up my cheeks.
“Uh, yeah. I heard. I think our entire street heard. And I haven’t been laid in like a month, so I’m honestly jealous as hell. I would ask you for all the details, but it would just get me even more hot and bothered, and I forgot my vibrator.”
Forgot? As in, it was a consideration for her to bring a vibrator to our neighbor’s house when we’re crashing here for one night and sharing a room? I shake my head.
“I’m going to table the very necessary discussion we need to have about boundaries because it’s so late,” I say. “Let’s just say that it was good. Really good.”
“Jealousy aside, I was thrilled when I heard you getting your clam slammed. You really needed that. It’s been a long time coming. I mean, you haven’t had sex in ages,” she goes on.
“Okay, okay. Jeez, I get the picture. It was cobweb city down there. But…we didn’t have sex.”
“That screaming was from something other than a dick?”
“I’m not going to give you details. I wouldn’t even if you did have your vibrator.” I scrunch my face at the insinuation I just made. “But let’s just say he gave and didn’t expect anything in return.”
“Oh my God! You rode his face?” Allie nearly yells as she sits up excitedly in bed.
I contemplate telling her that it was pretty close to that, but I would never hear the end of it.
“No! Jesus, Allie. Keep your voice down.”
“Damn. So, no tongue?” she waggles her eyebrows.
“There may have been some. Shit, why do I still end up spilling everything to you when I tell myself I won’t?”
“I’m pretty hard to resist,” Allie deadpans.
“Okay, that’s it. You are officially cut off. And I’m going to sleep.”
“Fine. You’re off the hook. For now.”
“Goodnight, Allie,” I say, hiking the covers higher.
“Goodnight, Screamy,” she singsongs.
I scoff as I lay my head on the pillow. Then, by some miracle, whether it’s due to the physical exhaustion or being able to shut my brain off for a minute, I finally drift off to sleep.