Chapter Ten #2
But Emerson didn’t pick up and run with my feeble attempt to be funny, instead pushing me away. His glare was fierce. “That’s not what I’m talking about. And pretending that what had you so rattled when you opened the door is about us having sex is fucking demeaning to what we just did.”
I hung my head and got to my feet. “I gotta clean up,” I mumbled and hurried to the bathroom.
I washed my hands and face, then brushed my teeth and swished with mouthwash.
I braced my hands on the sink and glanced at my face.
No change. Same as I ever was, aside from my mouth being slightly swollen. I touched my lips.
Not the same, Dommy boy. Never the same.
A knock sounded on the door. “Starr. You okay?”
I rubbed my face. “Yeah. Coming out.” Emerson waited several steps back, and I exited with a smile. “I’m fine, see?”
He shook his head, his face radiating skepticism. He’d put his briefs on and stood with his legs planted wide and arms folded across his chest. “Talk to me. If it’s something you need help with, I’m here. It’s not weakness to ask.”
Without answering, I walked to the couch and sat, my focus trained on the floor. Emerson followed and took the opposite end.
“It’s nothing you can help with. It’s…this has been my life since I was a kid. There’s no escaping it. Even up here, he’s come to make noise in the only place I’ve been able to find some peace.”
His brow furrowed, Emerson shifted closer. “Are you talking about your father?” There went those damn sharp instincts again. “The abuse?”
I raised my gaze and met his sympathetic one. “You know.”
Emerson moved to my side and ran the tip of his finger along the faint scar above my jaw that I kept covered with stubble.
All these years later, the nerves hadn’t fully regenerated, and it remained slightly numb.
I wanted to stay a block of ice, but I broke out in a sweat and shivered at his touch.
“After that night, it was pretty obvious. When we were called to your mother’s apartment, I saw the blood on your face. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”
“His gun. He hit me twice with it. Didn’t get a chance with my mother because I stepped between them. That’s when he tried to take me down. The moment he heard the sirens, he ran out. I didn’t even try to stop him. My face was on fire, and all I wanted was him gone.”
Emerson slid his arm over my shoulder, and I found myself snuggling into his chest. And I never fucking snuggled. But he was so warm and alive, and being held by him had become the only perfect thing that made sense in my imperfect word.
“They never arrested him. He’s still on the force, I know,” Emerson stated in surprise. “How?”
I snorted. “You’re kidding, right? You know who he is.
An escape artist, able to wiggle out of anything that might attempt to hold him captive.
He’s a damn octopus with his fingers in every pie—UC, Narcotics, Homicide, IAB.
My father’s got shit on everyone, so they all give him what he wants.
After what happened, I was called in and ‘spoken to.’ ” I air-quoted.
“Basically, they wanted me to play their game like a good little soldier. There I sat with my face still swollen and stitched up from his attack on me, and they wanted me to lie to protect him.” My laugh turned into a sob I made a futile effort to smother but failed.
Embarrassed, I pushed Emerson away and regained my composure.
“I told them to go to hell and walked out.”
“So you did report him. What happened? Was he disciplined?”
“Didn’t you hear what I’ve been saying? The man’s Teflon. Any time he’s been implicated, he slips and slides away from trouble without a scratch. Besides, my mom didn’t want me to say anything. She felt it would only cause me trouble—her as well.”
I could see his brain working, and his brows flew up. “That’s why you ended up in Staten Island, writing parking tickets.”
My turn to ask questions. “So…you looked me up? How else would you know?” He flushed red, and I grinned. “Don’t worry, Emmy. I won’t tell anyone you had a secret fantasy about me.”
Emerson straddled me, and my breath caught. He nuzzled into my neck, and I cupped his ass, squeezing the firm flesh.
“My fantasy, Starr, or both of ours?” He rubbed his rapidly stiffening cock on mine. “I think you’re the one who thinks about me all the time. Do you?”
“Maybe. Not all the time. I’d lose my job if that was the case.”
“But you’ve wanted to do this for a long time. I know because I’ve wanted it as well.” He bit my earlobe, and I slipped my hand into his briefs to run it up and down his cleft. “Oh, yeah.” He sighed. “Keep doing that.”
I chuckled and did as he bade me, while also kissing his face and anywhere I could reach.
I played with him, our excitement building, and the humid scent of sweat and desire rose between us.
I teased his opening, and my heartbeat slowed, as he’d shown no objection to letting me in.
What had I done to earn his trust to allow me to touch him?
I wasn’t sure I deserved a man like Emerson Kane, whose eyes mirrored his emotions, holding nothing back, while I kept the secrets of my past and present locked away.
I was a wreck, but I couldn’t let this man get away from me a second time.
“You like that, Emmy?” I murmured as I inched one finger inside, imagining the burn of all that hot skin against my aching dick. Emerson squirmed away from me.
“I’d like you to tell me the truth.”
“I just did.”
Darkness clouded his face. “No, you didn’t. Not all of it. Like, why did you run away when you saw that security guard at Jet’s party?”
Fear spiraled within me, and I snapped, lashing out, my ugliness spilling out. “What the hell else do you want? We’re just fooling around here, aren’t we? You don’t need to know my life story to suck my dick. You’ve screwed plenty of women knowing less about them than you do about me.”
Emerson paled, then nodded. “You’re right.
But you know what? I’ve changed my mind.
I’m not in the mood tonight.” I sat and watched him put his shorts and T-shirt on and slip his feet into his sneakers.
“It shouldn’t be too hard for you to find someone else to fuck, Starr. I know it won’t be for me.”
He slammed the door behind him, and I doubled over as if Emerson had punched me in the stomach. As usual, it was my own fear, my fault, driving him away. My hands curled into fists. I should’ve expected this. Nothing ever turned out right for me.