Chapter 20 #2
Emil…Emmie…said it so easily, but there was still a cost. I fiddled with the tweezers I’d been using to place the dots.
The ends made a satisfying little clink at each touch.
Emmie turned the stool I sat on so he could step between my legs.
As if on autopilot, my hands needed to touch him.
Now that the seal had been broken, I wanted to touch him constantly.
“Nope, it’s the fallacy of sunk cost. The money is gone, so continuing won’t bring it back. The whole point was to try them out, remember?”
“Yeah, I just need something to do with my hands.”
“I can think of a few things,” Emmie said with a grin that I matched.
“Emmie, would you go sit by the window, please?”
He moved back, took my hand, and did what I asked. After this morning, it felt like free rein had been given for me to touch and explore. I’d given him a blowjob before, but it wasn’t like what I wanted to do now. That had been about my stress relief, and I wanted this to be about his pleasure.
Once he sat, I dropped to my knees in front of him. His heavy hand smoothed back my hair before he ran his thumb along my jawline. It was impossible to avoid leaning into his hand.
Before I unbuttoned his jeans, I looked up at him. “May I?”
Emmie nodded his consent, and I fell on him like a starving man.
My fingers swiftly worked through the barrier of his jeans and pulled out his cock.
Permission already given, I swallowed him down entirely.
No waiting because the need was too much.
Not the need for satisfaction, but the need to ensure he was satisfied.
Each pass into my mouth calmed me more. I clocked his small thrusts and then the harder ones.
Each thrust was a reminder that I was pleasing him even more than his whispered words of encouragement.
“Take out your dick,” Emil ordered. “Jack yourself. I want to fuck you.” Emil took over the rhythm in my mouth, and I matched it with myself. “Goddamn, your mouth is perfection.”
Emil doubled over me as he used me to find satisfaction. The more he praised me, the closer I came to joining him. His words weren’t whispered anymore. They were muttered, then shouted.
I was determined to hold out until he came, but my movements stuttered as I came closer to release.
My dick was steel in velvet, and anticipation coursed through me.
Emmie’s movements had become rougher, more forceful, and I reveled in the absolute knowledge that I made this calm, steady man get a little messy, a little needy, and I did it on my knees.
His jerky movements made me want to concentrate even more on pleasing him, and I poured everything into making sure he could feel that.
With my focus on him, I pulled my hand off myself and gripped his calves.
Even through the denim, I felt his heat.
My movements slowed and became more deliberate, more meaningful, more intentional.
“Sweet boy, your mouth is a goddamn sin,” Emmie panted over me.
With one last thrust, his cum poured down my throat. He curled over me while he held my head steady, gasping and panting. My cock ached with need, but seeing Emmie through mattered more to me than I could put into words.
“Fuck me. Stand up,” Emmie growled. I staggered to my feet as quickly as I could, and immediately my dick was swallowed by Emmie.
My cock was down his throat, and he sucked firmly.
Within two passes, I erupted into his mouth.
He wasn’t quite able to swallow everything I gave, and some liquid leaked from the corner of his mouth.
With shaky hands, I reached up to wipe it away, but Emmie grabbed my wrist and redirected my thumb to his mouth after releasing my now-soft cock.
Wordlessly, he yanked me into his lap. I tried to angle myself to keep my full weight off him, but he pulled me closer until it was more awkward to keep trying. When I stopped fighting it, he relaxed under me. Our chests heaved as we struggled to keep air in our lungs.
“Thank you, Emmie.”
He wouldn’t know it, and I damn sure wouldn’t admit it, but it had been years since someone got me off. John lost interest after he got off, and I was left to my own devices after that. Over the past couple of years, I hadn’t even bothered.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
Perfection.
“Cleaning up after class isn’t required, but I really appreciate the help anyway,” Jonah said as I swept stem remnants into the dustpan.
Today was my first flower class, and it’d mainly been about recognizing the seasonality of cut flowers. My only regret was not taking at least one horticulture class back in the day because fiddling with the flowers today was pretty fantastic.
“You’re welcome. And I’m happy to help.”
There had been about ten people in the class, and it had been an absolute madhouse toward the end, everyone trying to get everything finished at once.
There was just one of Jonah, leaving him to clean up alone.
The mess seemed unfair considering we’d all made it, and walking away from something like that hurt my soul.
“How long have you and your boyfriend been together?”
“Who?”
“The guy who put in a standing order of fresh flowers to be delivered in your name?” Jonah leaned on the counter and stared at me. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize you two were married already.”
“We’re not anything. We’re not even dating.”
“Are you sure? Because I don’t think he knows that,” Jonah said with a knowing chuckle.
He dropped the subject, and we finished cleaning the work area. I said my goodbyes with a promise to be back for the next class.
The ten-minute walk home gave me time to think about what he’d said. It had never truly crossed my mind before, but I wondered what we must look like to people who didn’t know us. We’d become friends, and I supposed that was obvious enough. The rest, I wasn’t so sure about.
Those ten minutes also gave me space to think about whether I could stay on the island long-term.
I’d halfheartedly looked at rental options, but I’d need to make some severe cuts in other parts of my budget.
Still, staying might be worth it. Something about the island lowered my temperature.
I was calmer, more settled, definitely less stressed.
I just wasn’t sure if that was the island itself or being around Emmie.
When I first met him, I’d thought he was cold and calculating.
It was a wild one-eighty from the guy I’d seen last night, putting together a chair with a magnifying monocle on a headset.
Adorable, in the dorkiest of ways. He’d started showing me his finished items instead of just looking at my kits.
Turns out, the only craft I liked was the paint-by-number, but the felting was pretty fun, so I’d started another.
This time it was a dog with a jaunty scarf.
He’d been up and gone this morning before I was even awake, but he’d left a note on the kitchen counter saying he’d be home early.
Without really thinking about it, I hadn’t veered toward the cottage.
Instead, I headed straight for the front door of the main house and let myself inside.
I heard Emmie on the phone in the back of the house and followed the sound.
I paused briefly at the doorway before he looked up from his call and gave me a brilliant smile.
He turned in his chair, and my lungs froze.
Holy God, this man was sexy. The intelligent eyes, the dark hair always styled so perfectly, except when it was the two of us puttering around the workshop.
He hadn’t changed out of his suit yet. He spread his legs and lifted his hand, curling his fingers slightly in a silent invitation. I followed it. He pulled me onto his lap.
I tried to keep my weight off him, but he looked at me through narrowed eyes and tugged me closer.
I gave up trying to preserve his furniture and relaxed into the moment.
Whatever he was talking about had something to do with scheduling, but I wasn’t really listening.
My head rested on Emmie’s shoulder, and his steady breathing lulled me into a calm I couldn’t remember ever having.
“Hey, how was your class?” Emmie asked when the call ended.
“It was really cool. We learned why you should always go with seasonal flowers instead of shipping when possible.”
“I’m glad you had a good time. Did you get to arrange anything?”
“I did. Putting together an arrangement is better than any fidget I’ve ever used.”
“Good thing you saw that flyer.”
“Good thing I have an understanding boss who lets me take off in the middle of the week.”
I expected him to chuckle, but instead he said, “Speaking of business, I have a speech I need to give on Friday. What time is your class? I really want you to be there.”
“Class is at nine-thirty, but I can skip it.”
“No, that’s perfect. It’s an hour and a half, right?” At my nod, he continued, “I’ll pick you up at eleven. We’ll head straight to the ferry, do a pedestrian crossing so we don’t risk missing it with the car, and I’ll have an Uber waiting on the other side. We’ll be there by noon, easy.”
“That’s a lot of moving parts just to make sure I can go with you. I can skip the class. It’s not a big deal.”
“That class is important to you,” Emmie said firmly, “and that makes it important to me. You’re not skipping it. I can work the schedule around it, and that’s the end of that.”
Jonah’s words echoed in my head.
Never in my life, in any relationship, had my schedule been the priority.
I replayed my walk home. Rather than the cottage, I’d come straight to the main house and let myself inside without knocking. Instead of announcing myself, I’d wandered through the space as if I belonged there.
With Emmie.
Like he was home.