16. Emory
16
EMORY
I grab the tray of shots I just ordered from the bar and head back to the table where Luke and his friends are. Travis and Ace bought the first two rounds, and I insisted on getting this one despite the murderous look in Luke’s eyes. He has had a scowl on his face the entire time we have been here and hasn’t let me move an inch away from his side. I had to literally pry his hand off my thigh so I could get up to get this round of drinks.
When I decided to mess with him about his friends being hockey players, I didn’t realize how possessive he would be. I mean, it is kind of hot. He just never seemed like the jealous type, aside from the incident in my driveway with Ashton.
I place the tray on the table and hand out the tequila shots.
“Thanks, babe,” Travis shoots a wink at me, his messy blonde hair falling into his face. He has definitely caught on to the little game I’m playing with Luke and is leaning into it. Hard.
“You got it, Trav,” I reply with my own wink. The little buzz I have going has given me way too much confidence. Luke’s eye twitches slightly as he throws back the tequila and slams the shot glass on the table. He looks like he wants to knock Travis’s teeth out, but he’s a goalie, and apparently, you don’t ever mess with goalies. Although I think it’s just team members who follow that rule, so Travis may not be out of the woods just yet. Ace has also caught on but is currently sitting back and enjoying the show. He doesn’t seem to want to be directly involved in whatever drama ensues from this.
Travis knocks back his shot and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.
“So, what is it like being a professional hockey player?” I ask in an attempt to break the tension.
Travis smirks and slowly rakes his eyes over me. “Can’t complain. We get to play a game we love during the day and fuck whoever we want at night.”
Ace elbows Travis. “Watch your mouth, Trav. Jesus, where are your manners?”
“What? She’s with Luke. I’m sure she knows what fucking is. Don’t you, babe?”
Ace lets out an exasperated sigh, and I can only imagine what he has to deal with from Travis on a daily basis. They definitely have a babysitter-petulant child dynamic going on. I look at Luke, who is seething but remains silent.
Ace notices Luke’s expression and seems much less amused now and more worried that he is going to lose his goalie imminently. “Stop being a fucking dick, Trav. You can’t talk to someone else’s girl like that.” He turns to me, “Sorry, we just got him housebroken, but we’re still working on interpersonal skills.”
“I’m not his girl,” I blurt out. I realize that I’ve fucked up the moment the words leave my mouth.
Luke slowly turns his head to look at me, his anger with Travis melting into a mixture of frustration and lust. His grip on my thigh tightens to the point that I let out a quiet gasp. He turns back to his friends, his face calmer now. Almost eerily so. “We’re keeping it casual,” he explains, looking between them. Then, he directs his gaze to Travis. “But if you call her babe one more time, your season will be over before it starts. Understand?”
Travis nods sheepishly, and I can’t help but laugh at seeing a six-foot-four, two-hundred-pound hockey player hang his head like a scolded child.
My laughter halts when I feel a hot breath against my ear. “I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you,” Luke whispers.
“C’mon, T. Stop moping. He won’t be mad at you all night. Let’s go grab the next round.” Ace hauls a pouting Travis up and slaps his back.
As soon as they’re gone, Luke releases my thigh. But then his hand starts to travel higher and higher until it’s completely under my dress. He cups me over my underwear, and I instinctively grind down.
Then his mouth is back at my ear. “Not my girl, huh? Seems like your pussy didn’t get that memo.” He pushes his palm down, applying more pressure. “It’s fucking desperate for me.”
I clench my thighs at his words.
“If you don’t want this, you know what to say,” he continues. “Otherwise, spread your legs for me, babe .” He says the last word with so much venom my skin breaks out in goosebumps. I know I shouldn’t let him do whatever he’s about to do. I should say Red. It’s at the tip of my tongue. I’m well aware we are in public, he’s angry with me, and his friends will be back any minute, but I can’t find it in me to care right now. I want—no—I need his fingers inside me. I turn to look him right in the eye, then arch up so my mouth is right at his ear.
“Green,” I whisper.
His lips turn up into a serpentine grin as he pushes my panties to the side and slides a finger in. My breath hitches, and I almost let out a moan, but I swallow it down.
“Shhh. They’ll be back soon. I don’t give a fuck if they know what we’re doing, but they don’t get to hear the sounds you make. Those are only mine. Got it?”
I nod my head as he pushes another finger in and begins to thrust. I grind my clit down on his palm, chasing the friction, and bite my lip to keep from making noise. Travis and Ace return with a tray of shots and place it on the table. Travis looks humbled, while Ace looks like a frazzled parent who has just had to deal with his toddler’s meltdown for the past ten minutes.
“Sorry, man,” Travis says, his tone apologetic. “I was just messing with you.”
Luke narrows his eyes. “Don’t let it happen again.”
That out of the way, they start talking about their plans for the summer and all the chaos Luke has missed out on at the bar. I look over at Luke. This man is casually engaging in small talk while finger-fucking me under the table. I, on the other hand, have barely spoken a word. I’m too focused on staying quiet as Luke ruthlessly shoves his fingers in and out of me. I can only imagine what I look like to the guys as I attempt to keep my expression neutral. Meanwhile, Luke’s face gives nothing away. He’s laughing, smiling, and joking with them like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
All while he’s knuckle-deep inside me.
He shoves a third finger in, and I can’t keep my composure any longer. I whimper, and Travis and Ace shift their eyes to me.
“You okay?” Travis asks, but after all his talk earlier, he doesn’t seem to know what is going on.
“Yeah, I have a charley horse in my foot,” I groan.
Luke hooks his finger, rubbing up against my G-spot, and I clear my throat dramatically to cover up the moan I can’t contain. A look of realization comes over Ace’s face, and he nudges Travis and starts talking to him about hockey, distracting him from my predicament. I send out a silent prayer of thanks to him as Luke continues working me mercilessly under the table.
I realize at this moment that he’s not going to let up. He’s not teasing me or giving me a taste before we get home. He is hell-bent on making me come.
At this table.
In front of his friends.
In the middle of a crowded bar.
Travis and Ace are in some heated debate over hockey statistics and Luke takes their distraction as an opportunity to lean into my ear again and speak slowly. “You’re gonna come for me, Emory. Do you understand? We’re not leaving this table until you do.”
I almost do it, then and there, just from his words alone, but I need a little more to get me over the edge. Travis seems bored with his conversation and looks over to our side of the table. “Hey, you didn’t take your shot, ba—I mean, Emory.”
“Oh, y-yeah. Yes.” I pant. Travis blinks in confusion. I lift the glass up to my mouth shakily and pour the liquid down my throat. Somehow, the combination of ice-cold tequila and the way it makes my already buzzed brain hum with the added chemicals tips me over the edge. Right as I’m lifting the glass back from my lips, Luke takes his thumb to my clit, rubbing fast circles while hooking his fingers inside me again. “Fuck, Luke,” I nearly scream as my orgasm crashes into me. I slam the shot glass onto the table so hard I’m shocked it doesn’t shatter. Travis finally grasps the situation, and an amused smirk appears across his mouth. Ace looks like he just wants to go home. I don’t even attempt to offer an explanation as Luke takes their momentary distraction as an opportunity to smugly lift his fingers to his mouth and suck them clean.
Needless to say, the car ride home is both silent and mortifying. Luke only had the one shot earlier, so he’s driving. I’m in the passenger seat while two large, muscular hockey players are crammed in the back. My only saving grace is that my buzz progressed to slight drunkenness after that last shot. It’s not enough to completely erase the fact that I just had a screaming orgasm in front of two strangers, but it helps a little.
When we pull into the driveway, Luke tells Ace he can take his bed, so he doesn’t have to sleep with Travis or on the couch. He looks appreciative as he gives Luke a fist bump and steers Travis toward Luke’s front door. “Have a good night, Lukeeeeee,” Travis singsongs as he waggles his eyebrows and stumbles up the stairs. Ace pushes him through the door and waves at us before slamming it shut.
“Where do you think you’re sleeping?” I ask, my hands firmly planted on my hips.
“Funny,” he deadpans.
“No, seriously. You can’t possibly think I’ll let you stay the night after that stunt.”
“Stunt?” he seethes, stalking around the car so he’s standing inches from me. “You didn’t seem to think it was a stunt when you were screaming my name. Gushing for me. And you gave me the green light.”
“Yeah, well, I thought you would tease me a little. Not make me come in front of your fucking friends.” I cross my arms and glare at him.
His expression softens, and he looks down at the ground, then back up at me, his icy blues swimming with remorse.
“Shit, Em. I should have checked in with you again. I’m so fucking sorry. He kept calling you babe, and then you called him Trav, and I don’t know, I just snapped.” I open my mouth to speak, but he keeps going. “And then you told them you weren’t my girl. I know you want this to be casual. We talked about it.”
Guilt snakes low in my belly. I hurt him. “I’m so?—”
“No. You don’t need to apologize. It’s not your fault. You were always upfront about what this was. You’re not my girl. We’re not in a relationship.”
I know I said the same words earlier tonight, but they sting so much more coming from him. I also don’t miss how he says “what this was ” in the past tense. The truth is, I want to be his. I want it more than anything, but I refuse to give myself up for someone else again. He’s not Jaxon. I know that. But he used sex as a weapon tonight. It was completely different from the way Jaxon used to do it. Luke would never do what he did. I don’t think…but what if this is just the beginning? Jaxon wasn’t bad in the beginning. He was sweet and charming. He bought me jewelry and took me out to expensive restaurants. That’s just it, though. Luke has never tried to buy my affection with lavish things. He orders my favorite pizza from around the corner and fixes my floors. He cares about my comfort…my pleasure.
Despite what he just said, I can’t help feeling guilty. I used to assume the blame for everything that went wrong in my relationship with Jaxon without a second thought. I had developed a knee-jerk reaction from being constantly gaslighted by him. But when I really think about it, I am in the wrong for what happened tonight. I thought it would be funny to make Luke jealous. I played with his feelings. I flirted with his friends. I hurt him. And maybe Luke reacted like a caveman, wanting to claim me publicly, but I fully consented and then practically denied it because, after all the dust settled, I was just plain embarrassed.
I take Luke’s hand and intertwine our fingers. “Can we go inside and talk?” He nods, and I lead him up the stairs.
I take him to my room and kick off my shoes, motioning for him to do the same. He takes off his jacket and hangs it on the back of my desk chair.
I climb onto the bed and curl up in the fetal position, but I look over my shoulder when I don’t feel his weight next to me. He’s just standing there, frozen by the side of the bed.
“Will you lie down with me?" I ask. He doesn't respond, but I feel the mattress shift as he moves beside me. I slide up close to him, trying to bridge the gap, but he stays still. I'm not sure if he's upset or giving me space, so I inch closer, making my intentions clear. He remains motionless. I let out a frustrated sigh and gently take his arm, wrapping it around my waist. This whole thing feels familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it. Luke exhales, his tension easing as he melts into me, our bodies finally in sync.
“I need to say this, and I don’t want to look at you when I do. But I need to feel you,” I say. “I’m going to apologize, even though you told me not to. I noticed you were jealous and wanted to mess with you. That was wrong of me. You had my permission to touch me at the table, and I enjoyed it—a lot. But then I got in my head about it.” I inhale a steadying breath and continue. “I want more, too, but I’m scared. I lost a part of myself in college and spent a lot of time trying to get it back. I think I’m close…I just need more time. I understand if you can’t give it to me. You deserve so much more than waiting for some broken girl to heal.”
I can’t believe I just said all that. It’s the most real I’ve ever been with anyone, aside from Allie and my therapist. Luke doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and I think I’ve made a mistake opening up to him, even just a little bit. But then he starts running his fingers up and down my arms. “I’ll wait as long as you’ll let me,” he says quietly. “And you’re not broken to me, Em. You’re perfect.”
My heart squeezes in my chest as a single tear runs down my cheek. It’s easy to believe you don’t deserve love when you’ve been told that you don’t for years. I let myself believe it because it was better than being alone at the time. I can hate Jaxon for making me feel like I was never good enough, and I can hate myself for letting him, but I owe it to myself to give this thing with Luke a shot. Especially if he’s willing to wait for me.
I don’t say anything else. Instead, I listen to our combined breathing as it starts to even out, and my eyes grow heavy. The steady rise and fall of Luke’s chest is the last thing I feel before I drift off to sleep.