Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
JUDE GRAVES
Micah’s sprawled across the bed when I walk in, one arm flung behind his head, the TV flickering blue against the walls.
“How’d it go?” he asks, voice half-bored, half-curious.
I drop my keys on the nightstand. “It was...amazing.”
He turns his head toward me. “So what’s the problem? Because you look like shit.”
I rake a hand through my hair. “The problem is, I don’t know what the fuck to do. If it weren’t for Adriana or Nolan, I’d scoop her up and run away somewhere. Anywhere.”
Micah exhales, eyes back on the TV. “Careful, man. They’ve got Portland this weekend.
Who knows what they’re going to make us do.
Hopefully not...” he trails off, but I know what he means.
Adriana and some bitch assaulted us while we were high as fuck last time.
I wish I could say that doesn’t happen a lot. But it does.
My throat tightens. “Yeah. I know. I’ll try to throw her off. Pretend I’m sick or some shit. I don’t want to sleep with her anymore, not when Emma is...” I sigh, rubbing my eyes. “I don’t know what she is to me.”
Micah grins at me, and it’s a kind expression that makes my heart swell. “Yeah, you do.”
I swallow hard with a nod and turn towards the bathroom. I shower to clear my head, but the water only stings.
By the time I step out, Micah’s asleep, the TV still murmuring a late-night commercial. I shut it off and climb into bed beside him. My chest feels heavy. I close my eyes and drift to a place deep in my mind.
~ A memory ~
The movie’s only half playing in the background, some old comedy we’ve both seen too many times.
Emma’s laugh keeps stealing the scene anyway.
She’s curled up beside me on my bed, her head on my chest, a bowl of popcorn balanced between us.
My parents went out for date night, leaving us the house to ourselves.
Mom had kissed Emma’s cheek on her way out and told her she loved her. Dad just chuckled and said, “You’ll always be family, sweetheart.”
They mean it. They adore her. Hell, Mom takes her out for lunch sometimes without even telling me.
The two of them will come back gossiping and laughing about how one day, when I finally “made it,” I’d take them both shopping with my music money.
I laugh it off, but looking at Emma now, with her hair braided loosely to the side, my hoodie drowning her small frame, I realize I’ll buy her the whole damn world if I could.
She shifts closer, her fingers tracing lazy patterns across my stomach through my t-shirt. Her hair smells like coconut, and that vanilla lotion she’s bought since I’ve known her.
“Jude,” she says quietly, eyes flicking up to mine. “You’re not even watching.”
“Can you blame me?” I grin, running my hand through her hair. “You’re a way better view.”
She scoffs, the sound soft and bright. She reaches up, tugging on my shirt until I lean down. The kiss starts out playful, just the brush of her lips against mine. But then it deepens, slower and heavier. Her hand slides to my jaw, thumb tracing the corner of my mouth.
Every nerve in me lights up. The movie fades, the whole world narrows to her breath against my lips, her heartbeat pressed to mine. When I shift, tucking her beneath me, she doesn’t pull away. She just looks up at me, lips parted, chest heaving slightly.
“Oh, wait!” she exclaims suddenly, reaching over to retrieve something from her purse.
“What?” I ask, desperate for her to come back so I can taste her some more.
She shakes her container of birth control pills. “Can’t forget these.”
I roll my eyes as she takes a tiny white pill.
We haven’t had sex yet. Any time we’ve gotten close, I’ve controlled myself.
I don’t want her to feel rushed or pressured since it will be her first time.
I’m not much more experienced, honestly.
Just once with Kacey Grimwald in some stranger’s bedroom at a house party. Which I regret.
She pulls my face to hers again, and I can feel her smile against my lips. “I want you, Jude.” And then her tongue sweeps in, her body arching against mine.
I break away from the kiss, my brows pulling together. “Em, are you sure?”
“When else are we left alone?” she says with a mischievous grin.
A chuckle escapes me. “Is that your only reason?”
“No!” She tugs me back into another kiss. She grinds her hips against mine, and I can feel the hard ridge of my belt buckle press into her softness through our clothes. “I love you, Jude. I don’t ever want anyone else. I want to marry you one day, maybe have a kid. Just one though.”
My heart hammers against my ribs, a wild drumbeat matching the sudden, desperate throb of my cock. I roll us over, settling my weight between her thighs, caging her in with my arms. “Oh? A kid? Really, Em?”
She giggles, wrapping her legs around my waist. “I think you’ll be really good at the parenting thing. And you’ll get to teach them how to play guitar. They can paint with me and create beautiful little artwork for their dad.”
I know. I know I’m gone for her completely. “We’ll move to L.A. I’ll make us rich. And you can do whatever you want. Open a studio? Stay at home wife? Mom? I’ll be more than happy to come home to that every day.”
Her eyes glisten, and for a moment, I think she’s holding back tears. But instead of saying anything, she kisses me again. It’s passionate and deep, and the only thing I want to experience for the rest of my life. I would drown in her if I could.
My hand slides down between us, my fingers finding the damp lace of her panties. I bite back a groan the moment I feel her already soaked for me. My fingers find her clit, and her own tighten on my shoulders.
I’ve made her come like this before, with my fingers or my mouth worshiping her, but I’ve always been too nervous, too careful to go further.
I don’t want to hurt her. But now, feeling her hips rock against my hand, hearing her breath become shallow and quick, all my good intentions begin to crumble.
I suddenly want to hurt her, just a little. Maybe that’s just cuteness aggression?
“Oh, god,” she pants, her head falling back, exposing the long, beautiful line of her throat.
“There you go, baby,” I whisper, my voice rough with hunger.
I watch her fall apart, her body tensing, her lips parting in a silent cry as her orgasm washes over her.
The sight of it, the feel of her clawing at my biceps, makes my cock strain painfully against my jeans.
Fuck. I clench my jaw, guiding her through it, my own need a goddamn wildfire under my skin.
When her breathing begins to even out, I murmur the question again, my fingers working the buckle of my belt. “Are you sure?”
Her nod is immediate, her face flushed and glowing with satisfaction. “Yes.”
Clothes suddenly become a frantic blur, a race to feel skin on skin. Then we are under my blankets, and she is bare and beautiful beneath me. The brave front from moments before has faded, replaced by a nervous energy that trembles through her.
“If you need me to stop, please tell me,” I whisper, my own arms shaking as I brace myself over her.
“I will,” she replies, her voice a little too quick, a little too high.
I have to be sure. “Are you nervous?”
“A little,” she admits.
I slide the head of my cock over her sensitive clit, and her whole body jolts. A stuttered gasp escapes her. Could she feel how hard I was shaking? How badly I wanted this to be perfect for her?
“I’m going to kiss you when I...do it, okay?”
Her grip on my shoulders tightens, her eyes staring into mine, seeing every terrified, exhilarated part of my soul. Nearly falling apart already, I rest my forehead against hers, stealing a moment to breathe her in. Her little puffs of air against my lips are the most enticing thing I’ve ever felt.
I take one heavy breath.
And then I kiss her.
My tongue parts her lips at the exact moment my hips push forward, and I feel her body give way. She whimpers, and the sound cuts straight through me. “Jude…” Her voice is small and fragile, and it kills me to hear her like this.
I still for a moment, allowing her to adjust. She’s so tight I could lose it right here.
I work inside her a little more. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice rough with restraint.
“I know it hurts. I’ll go slow, okay? Just..
.just tell me if it’s too much.” My hand trembles as I brush a strand of hair from her face, my touch feather-light, afraid to add to her discomfort.
She nods, but I can see the pain in her expression.
“You’re doing so good, Em,” I rasp against her lips. I fist the sheets beside her head, my knuckles white, holding myself back from the primal urge to pound into her. Slow. Gentle.
Her legs tremble as they tighten around my waist. God, I’m so thick. The thought is a mix of male pride and genuine concern.
My heart thunders as I experimentally pull back and push in again, a little harder this time. This time, there is no resistance, and I’m now entirely seated inside.
Her body goes rigid, and she bites her plump bottom lip.
I still instantly. “Are you okay?” My voice is barely a whisper.
She nods, her eyes squeezing shut. “Keep going.”
The plea, so soft and trusting, destroys me. Seeing her so innocent, so beautiful, so mine, taking every inch of me so perfectly makes me want to lose my mind. The careful control I’ve been clinging to snaps.
I loop an arm under her back with one arm and steady myself above her with the other.
Her gasp is sharp in my ear as I begin to move harder, my thrusts deepening, finding a rhythm that is less about gentleness and more about pure, desperate connection.
The slick, hot friction is unbelievable.
Her tight, perfect pussy is strangling my cock with every drive forward.