4. Henley #2
“Words, Hen. I need to hear you say it out loud.” His voice rumbled through me, igniting every neuron inside of me with a match.
“I want you to . . . kiss me,” I confessed.
A hint of a smile twitched on his mouth as his forehead dipped and brushed lightly against mine before pulling back slightly. “The Henley I know never shies away from saying exactly what’s on her mind. Try again.”
This was the moment you’ve been waiting for. Be brave, woman.
As his deep cerulean gaze lured me into its grasp, I took a deep breath and finally told the man what I’d been wanting to tell him for years. “I want you to finish what you started that night. I want to know how you taste. Feel your touch against my skin. I want all of you, over every inch of me.”
A dark chuckle vibrated through his throat, and for a moment my heart began to sink.
“There you are, Trouble,” he growled right before slamming his lips against mine.
I gasped into his mouth, his tongue slipping through the opening to tangle with my own.
The burn of whiskey and the soothing taste of mint clashed against my senses, and my knees went weak.
One moment, I was pressed against the wall, the next he was lifting my hips and shoving me onto the counter behind me.
All without our lips ever breaking apart.
With one hand he pushed my thighs wide and placed his body in between them. The palm that gripped my thigh glided around to my ass. Fingers dug into the smooth denim as he cupped it just long enough to scoot me forward so that our bodies were glued together.
This was not a sweet, tender kiss by any means.
It was more like a revelation.
Plush lips rolled over mine with a fierce possessiveness, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck, locking me into place.
A moan ripped through me when his teeth nipped at my bottom lip and tugged.
My fingers curled into his sweater, sliding his hard chest against mine and rubbing against my peaked nipples.
The sensation had me vibrating with need as he groaned deeply with pleasure.
There was a sharp sting on my scalp as he tugged back my hair and exposed my neck.
He kissed, lapped, and grazed a path over my delicate skin, leaving me shivering beneath his wake.
The heels of my Converse dug into his back as I shamelessly writhed against him, yearning for more friction to ease the burn rising between my thighs.
Cool air met my back as his palm slid underneath my sweater and snaked up my spine.
The unexpected sting that radiated from my neck had my body arching off the counter as his teeth nipped against my sensitive skin.
“Mmm . . . you are so damn stunning,” he hummed against my neck, nipping the sensitive spot once more before pulling back to face me. His palms held my jaw just inches away from his. One of his thumbs rose to trace my mouth reverently.
“Em—”
“Fuck,” he rasped against my swollen lips. “This is what I should have done that night.” Then he proceeded to consume them once more.
An intoxicating blend of burnt cedar from the bonfire and the vibrant citrus scent of him wove through the air around us, enveloping me in their warmth.
As dangerous and rebellious as this might be, I’d never felt safer than I did right now as he held me.
Every worry and fear slipped away like sand through my fingertips.
How did that saying go? ‘If loving him is wrong, then I don’t want to be right?’ Well tonight I didn’t want to be right. Tonight, I’d gladly be wrong.
Tonight, I’d embrace all the trouble I could get myself into.
“Hey Em, you in there?”
Heavy footsteps creaked on the back porch as my brother’s deep voice acted like a bucket of cold water. Panic rushed between us, Em’s strong arms tossing me off the counter and back onto my feet.
“Uh. . .Yeah man, I’ll be right out. Just give me a sec,” Emerson yelled from beside me, adjusting himself through his dark jeans.
The wood creaked once more on the porch and we simultaneously sucked in a breath. The sound faded away from the door. We didn’t move a muscle until we heard bottles clink together in the ice chest. Then we finally released our breaths.
“I’ll be back, I promise,” he said. However, his facial features reflected a different story. His olive skin, slightly paler. Eyebrows gathering inward with what looked a lot like a heaping pile of regret.
As he turned to leave, I tracked his slumped posture until I heard the back door swing shut before I moved. I carefully peeked through the window. My brother handed him a beer, and they clinked the bottles together before taking a sip.
“Hey, have you seen Hen? Harper has tequila shots with her name on it and ordered me to come find her.”
Emerson chugged his beer, taking his time to make up an answer for my brother.
“Yeah, I think I saw her come back out here after grabbing a sweatshirt. She was headed toward the fire. Let’s find her and get her those shots.”
A smile lifted my brother’s cheeks as he patted Em on the back. Then they both made their way toward the bonfire. I should have known that this would be the last time that I would ever see Emerson Lane. He was running. Just like before.
Two minutes later, the rumble of his loud engine filled the backyard.
Emerson invaded my heart and ripped it out all in one go. Never looking back.