20. Hattie
TWENTY
Hattie
“Come on, I wanna show you the view.” I wave Emmy down another path with our bikes. The sun is starting to set, and I know she won’t want to miss seeing this. I bring her down the path to the overlook and lean my bike against a tree.
Standing about ten feet from the edge of the cliff, I stop to admire the view.
The sun is setting on the horizon, creating a beautiful collage of oranges and pinks.
Emmy stands next to me, watching the sky in awe.
I glance at her reaction, the smile, and how impressed she is.
The way it hits over the forest beside us makes it look fake.
Emmy’s hair waves in the breeze, her red curls flying around her face.
She is so beautiful when she smiles; her whole face lights up as she laughs.
I help her pull her hair back into a messy bun, and I blush when I realize how close we are.
Pulling apart, she thanks me.
“We should head back before it gets dark,” I say.
We walk quietly back to the path, then get on the bikes and head toward the house.
This time I have Emmy go ahead of me. It’s only a single-lane path, and that way I can keep an eye on what is behind us.
Not that it’s happened in a while, but once a bear tried to follow Benny home.
It was only once, but I’ve been a little wary since then.
Plus I don’t want her to think it was someone coming to murder her after all.
But as I turn to look back, I end up almost biking into the tree, swerving at the last second.
I bike right through a huge mud puddle at full speed.
Which leaves me covered in wet mud, and Emmy is so close that I manage to cover her too.
“What the hell!?” she squeals. Pulling to the side, she jumps off the bike and looks at me while I do the same.
“I didn’t see the mud.” I wince.
“I yelled for you to watch out! I think there’s a worm in my shirt!” Emmy squeals. I can’t help but laugh because there’s no way there’s a worm in her shirt. But she’s screaming like that stepmom in The Parent Trap.
I keep cracking up; I’m literally doubled over in laughter, clutching my stomach as she squeals.
Emmy jumps around trying to free whatever she thinks is in her clothes.
But it’s a million times funnier because she’s covered in mud, leaves, and sticks.
She looks like she’s at a spa doing a mud treatment with the way she’s covered.
“It’s not funny!” she yells, and I have to try to stop laughing.
Emmy frowns at me, and I finally stop. “Come on, let’s get home so you can shower.”
“You need one too; you’re covered,” she grumbles.
“Good thing we have two showers,” I add.
Except as I get back on the bike, all I can think about is sharing a shower with her. Knowing what’s under all that mud and her clothes. Our kiss left me horny and wanting more.
When we get home, we ditch the bikes in the yard—I’ll have to hose them down later—and Emmy heads right for her shower. I run into mine and finish quickly, but I still manage to get all the mud out of my hair.
Heading downstairs, I hear sounds coming from near the kitchen, so I go to investigate. I can’t tell what the noise exactly is until I get closer.
I don’t mean to be a creeper, but I can hear Emmy singing inside the downstairs bathroom.
Her voice carries through the kitchen, but I wanted a closer listen, so I’m standing outside the bathroom door.
At first, I’m not even sure what song she’s singing; all I can hear is the water running.
Then she starts blaring the lyrics to “Cool for the Summer” by Demi Lovato.
It sounds completely awful. I mean, she isn’t even singing the words right; the key is totally off, but she’s singing like it’s her turn at karaoke.
I’m in absolute awe of how bad she sounds while also being hot as fuck to me.
How can she sound that bad and I’m into it?
“WHEN DID YOU GET HOTTTTT?!” Emmy bellows through the door. I think she’s switched to a Sabrina Carpenter song because those are definitely the lyrics to it.
She’s bopping along, even humming along to the rest of the song.
I wonder if she knows I can hear her. She probably thought I was still taking my shower and couldn’t hear her from all the way upstairs.
I should probably go back upstairs and hide out until I know she’s done.
But instead, I smile to myself, thinking about how bad this sounds, yet it also captivates me.
“Mom?” Ollie calls from the front door, and I jump back into the kitchen.
“Love Bug!” I greet him with a tight hug, and he smiles.
“We had a great day; Ollie is a natural at pulling weeds. It will come in handy whenever you say he can have a job.” Tilly winks at me.
“Where’s Emmy? I wanna show her the vegetables I picked!” Ollie says, looking around the house.
“She’s in the shower,” I say, but Tilly smirks at me, and I blush.
“Oh, okay.” Ollie frowns.
“Head upstairs and get yourself a shower too. I can’t tell which parts of you are kid and which are dirt,” I tease.
“Seems odd your hair is wet too, considering Emmy is in the shower,” Tilly whispers quietly.
“Okay, bye! Ollie, call goodbye to Auntie T!” I start closing the door on her. I can’t deny the way I’ve been feeling about Emmy, and I can’t talk about it now. Emmy will be coming out of the shower any second.
I go upstairs, pick out Ollie some pajamas, and read him a story before bed.
He’s asleep within half an hour as I go back downstairs and run into Emmy.
She has a towel twirled on the top of her head, and she’s walking around the kitchen in a tiny pair of shorts and a crop top.
I can see half her stomach under the black cotton tee.
“Ollie in bed?” she asks as I take a seat on the couch, looking for the remote.
“Yeah, he was wiped from his day with Tilly,” I say.
She leaves the room, walking around the kitchen looking for something. Then she disappears into her bedroom. I think she’s gone to bed when she reappears again. I was just about to put on a scary movie when she freezes, looking between me and the screen.
“I don’t wanna interrupt your movie; I just wasn’t quite ready for bed,” she explains.
“You can join me,” I say, patting the couch with my foot.
“Are you sure? I don’t wanna be a bother.” She chews on her bottom lip, and I suck in a breath. Am I really that horny over that? Apparently, yes, I am.
“You’re not a bother, but I was putting a scary movie on. It’s an oldie, but I can put something else on.”
“I don’t mind scary movies as long as we’re not in the middle of a forest. Which one were you watching?” she asks, sitting on the other end of the couch.
“Halloween. I thought if I started it now, I might be able to get through all of them in my spare time before actual Halloween,” I explain.
“Then let’s do it. Movie marathon.” She smiles, and I nod.
I press play, but I feel more on edge during the movie than normal.
It isn’t that I am suddenly afraid of one of my favorite movies; it is how close Emmy and I are.
It has gotten chilly, so I put on one of the fluffy orange blankets I keep by the couch.
But Emmy’s feet get under, and now hers are resting on mine.
Which wouldn’t be an issue except we’ve started playing footsie.
And I learned that footsie is a surefire way to turn me on when the person I’m playing it with is Emmy.
Although I’m sure she could poke me in the eye and I’d still be turned on.
So, I’ve been trying not to move my feet too much, but then Emmy starts dragging her foot up the side of my calf.
So I stretch out enough to do the same. Only I think it encourages her to keep going, and now her foot is trailing the side of my calf, and I feel like I haven’t had sex in ten years.
All the sexual tension I’ve been feeling for weeks is coming to a head, which is ironic because that’s all I want from her in this moment.
“Are you okay?” Emmy asks.
“Huh?” is all I manage.
“You seem stressed. Is it the movie? Because I’m actually not scared if you’re worried or something.”
“No, I’m okay,” I lie. I can feel her eyes on me, but I don’t know what to say.
It’s not like I can act on anything, but I swear I’m going to go off like a rocket if I don’t get some space.
So, I try to sit up, moving the blanket with me so I can cozy myself up.
But instead, I end up twisting my leg with Emmy’s and my foot taps her pussy.
It wouldn’t be a big deal except for the moan that escapes her lips.
Her hands fly to her mouth, eyes wide. “Fuck! I’m so sorry.” A blush creeps along the side of her face.
“I-it’s okay.” I clear my throat. Moving my foot away, I press my thighs together, feeling how fucking wet I am from her little whimper. God, she is my kryptonite, that’s for sure.
“Would it be such a bad idea if we didn’t touch?” Emmy says quietly.
“What?” My focus on the movie is completely gone.
“I think you’re as pent up as I am. So I’m proposing a solution. If we don’t touch, is it just as bad as if we do?” she asks, smirking, her foot trailing up my inner thigh this time.
“Isn’t that touching?” I ask.
“What if we used our hands on ourselves…” Emmy’s voice trails as she looks down, and I see her hand is sliding across her bare thighs and toward her center.
“Oh, you want to…” I can’t even say it out loud; I’m blushing too hard.
“Only if you want to,” she says quickly, waiting for my confirmation before doing anything else.
“Yes, please. I’m dying over here,” I groan.
I watch as Emmy dips her hand inside the front of her shorts, her fingers going right for her pussy.
She moans slightly, a silent moan that is hidden by the sound of the movie.
Moving her other hand, she lifts the front of her T-shirt over her chest on one side and exposes her bare breast. Holy hell.
Her boobs are big enough to lie on her stomach, her pink nipples hard.
I bite my bottom lip, enjoying the show when she stops to look at me.
I take the hint, unbuttoning the front of my pajama shirt.
I’m not wearing a bra either, my nipples matching hers.
She bites her bottom lip again, and I take a deep breath as I brush my cool fingers across the tops of my breasts.
Dragging my hands across both, squeezing and playing as if I were alone.
Emmy keeps her eyes on me while I watch her hand move again.
She’s pulling her shirt off over her head, exposing her chest. I’m sucking in a breath, so I don’t forget how to breathe.
Her legs stretch out, thighs opening as her hand moves in her shorts.
When I move my own hand down my stomach to my panties, I know this isn’t going to be enough to satiate my desire.