25. Chapter Twenty-Five ~ Chris
Chapter Twenty-Five ~ Chris
Okay. She’s poor.
Does it matter?
I look down at the papers in front of me again.
No.
No, it doesn’t matter.
Ethan’s right.
I have more than enough money for the both of us.
So I drop the papers in the shredder bin where they belong and walk out the door.
“I’m leaving for a bit.”
Ethan looks up, startled. Which isn’t surprising because I never leave. When I’m here, I’m here for the night. But this is something that needs to be taken care of right now. There’s no putting it off.
“Sure. I got things handled here,” he tells me and I give a sharp nod. That much I know.
The reason I never leave during the nights is definitely not because I don’t think Ethan can handle it. I know that he can. I just prefer to handle things myself most of the time. And really, what else do I have to do but be here?
Except tonight. Because tonight I need to go see my family.
I’m not surprised to see my sister and her family there when I arrive. I’ve long known that the group of them get together without me all the time.
Tonight that’s a convenient thing because it means I only have to go through this once.
So I stride into the house and straight to the living room where everyone is gathered.
“Oh! Christian, we weren’t expecting you.” Mom makes it sound like she’s happy I’m there, but there’s no reason that she should be. Not after the way that we left things earlier.
“It’s good that you’re all here together. There’s something we need to talk about,” I reply, ignoring her comment. I grab the small bell off the counter and ring for Carrie, which does seem to confuse all of them. But once the maid comes, they would rather do anything than let on that they don’t know what’s going on. “Carrie, could you take Margie to the kitchen and get her a snack?”
“We’re going to be having dinner,” Wendy protests but I shake my head.
“It’s going to be a few minutes. And it’s better if Margie isn’t here for what I’m about to say.” I’m barely reining in my irritation at the lot of them. Because I could already catch snatches of their conversation when I walked up. And it was all about Emma.
Which means this wasn’t just Mom sticking her nose in where she didn’t belong.
It was the whole crew of them.
Once Margie is out of the way, I turn back to them. It’s obvious they know what is coming. Or at least, somewhat of what is coming. Because they’re all sitting together, staring back at me.
“What you did was out of line,” I tell my mother, but I’m directing it at all of them because I’m sure everyone was involved in this mess. “You had no right to go snooping in Emma’s private business. And there was no reason for you to.”
“Did you know? Did you know that she was … poor?” Wendy says the word like there’s something wrong with it. Or like it’s contagious.
“I never asked her about her financial situation,” I reply, because I didn’t. I never cared. I knew what she made. Or at least, in a general sense I know what the waitresses make. But even that never really occurred to me.
“It’s important, Christian. She’s obviously after you just for your money.”
“That’s something that you’ve assumed. It’s not something that I agree with. I don’t appreciate you digging into her life like this. It was a huge invasion of her privacy and it was over something that doesn’t matter to me.”
“We were looking out for your best interests, Son,” Dad pipes up and I frown, shaking my head at all of them.
“No. You were looking out for your best interests. Having your son date a girl who comes from a poor background isn’t a good look for you, right? It’s not something you like. What if word got out at the country club?” My sarcastic tone isn’t lost on them.
“That’s not fair, Christian,” Wendy insists. “The family reputation is good for all of us. It’s something that you should care about too.”
“I don’t give a damn about the family reputation. I care about the way you are treating Emma. Digging into her life like that. And trying to convince me to shove her out the door, is that it? Never mind the fact that I care about her and she’s having my baby.”
“Keep the baby, Christian. You’d do much better with it than she’ll be able to afford anyway.”
I grit my teeth at my mother’s flippant tone. “She’ll be able to afford to take care of it just fine because she’s not going anywhere. She’s staying with me. And that means she’ll have all of my money to help take care of the baby.”
“Christian-”
“No. I’m done. I came here to tell you all to leave Emma alone. And to make sure that you understand that her financial situation or the financial situation of her family not only doesn’t matter but it’s none of your business. So either you get on board with the fact that Emma is a part of my life, no matter how poor her family may be, or when I show myself out today that’s going to be the last you see of me.”
With that I turn and stalk out the door.
And not one of them tries to stop me.
But it’s too late for that anyway.
Now that I’ve sorted things out with them it’s time to sort everything out with Emma. This whole day has been ridiculous and I’m glad to put the whole thing behind me. Behind both of us.
I get back to the house just as she’s pulling in the driveway and it surprises me that telling off my family actually took that long.
“Emma!”
At my voice, she turns and I see the way she almost seems to brace herself. “Look, if you want me to leave I can go. I just-“
“Leave?” I stare at her in confusion. Why on earth would I want her to leave?
“I know you’re not happy about … this … and I just … maybe it would be better if I just-“
“Emma, I’m not happy about you not telling me about this. I couldn’t care less about your family’s financial situation.”
She falls silent for a long moment. Staring at me. Her eyes are wide, as if she’s not entirely sure what she’s hearing.
“Come on, let’s go inside. You need to sit down.” I lead her in and help her to the couch because at the moment she seems to be incapable of even that. “Now, look, I wish you would have told me more about your family. And that you’d felt like you could open up to me. But, I’m not mad that your family is poor, Emma.”
“You’re not?”
“No. What does it matter to me what kind of money you have? And it matters even less what kind of money they have.”
“I just thought … with us being from two such totally different worlds …”
“We always knew we were from different worlds, Emma. This doesn’t change that at all.”
“And earlier. It seemed like you were upset by the news.”
“I wasn’t upset at the news. I was upset that I had to hear something about you from my mother. And I was even more angry with her for interfering in the first place. I’m sorry if that seemed like it was directed at you.”
“I’m just relieved,” she replies and she certainly looks it.
Her shoulders drop, and her face more relaxed. And speaking of her face …
“What have you done to yourself?” I ask, taking in the much thicker layer of makeup than she normally wears.
“Hmm? Oh, well, I was quite upset when I left your office. One of the other girls helped me cover it up so I could get back to work.”
I feel guilty yet again because I know that’s because of me. And because I knew she was upset when she left but I didn’t really pay attention to it.
“You don’t like it?” She touches the side of her face, a confused expression in her eyes as she meets my gaze.
“No,” I reply bluntly. “It doesn’t look like you.”
“Well, she did a great job. I had people all night telling me that I looked great.”
“They need to get their eyes checked,” I retort, and she laughs.
“You really do have that playboy thing down, don’t you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You look better without makeup? You’re telling me that’s not a line you use with everyone?”
“No. There have been plenty of them that did look better with makeup.”
“You’re not supposed to say that,” she laughs and I shake my head.
“If I’m not supposed to say someone looks better with makeup and I’m also not supposed to say they look better without it, then what am I supposed to say?”
“You’re supposed to say that they look good.”
I move closer to her, placing my hands on the back of the couch on either side of her head. “Oh, Baby Girl, you look much better than good,” I murmur and she practically leans in toward me. I’m not about to let any of this go to waste and immediately my mouth is on hers, enjoying the taste of her even without touching the rest of her body. But, of course, that doesn’t last long.
I lay her back on the couch, dragging the short skirt down her legs in one swift motion.
“Careful. I don’t think these costumes were built to last,” she laughs at my rough treatment.
“It only needs to last another few days,” I reply, finishing off the process by pulling the top over her head as well.
“I think someone is overdressed,” she quips and her hands immediately go to my waist, dragging my shirt upward as best she can manage from her current position. But I’m not going to make things difficult. Instead, I jerk the shirt off and toss it to join the rest of her clothes, my pants following suit. “That’s much better.” Her hands are immediately at my chest, gliding over my stomach, up and down my arms, as if she can’t get enough of touching me.
And my skin is on fire every place that she does.
“Hell, Emma …” I groan at the feel of her fingertips against my skin and as they slowly make their way down toward the one thing I am still wearing. Though she makes quick work of that as well, her hand wrapping around my cock as I groan.
Immediately I force my attention to her body. Force myself not to get too caught up in the feel of her hands on my body and instead focus on making her feel as amazing as I do.
My hands move to her breasts and her waist, spanning her hips and enjoying the feel of that soft skin. She moans as I continue to tease her body. But the more I tease her the tighter she grips my cock, sliding her hand in just the right motion to make me squirm even more.
“That’s it, Baby Girl …” I groan, pausing a moment to enjoy the feel of her hand, but there’s more I want from this moment and so, with another growl, I knock her hand away and slide deep inside her body with one smooth movement. A process that makes her moan aloud, her back arching off the couch.
“Chris …” My name has certainly never sounded better than it does on that sexy little moan of hers.
And when she comes for me … the sounds she makes, along with the amazing feel of being inside her, push me easily over the edge as well.