31. Emmy
Iwasn’t jealous.
Jealousy is an emotion reserved for people who want to possess a thing, and I don’t want to possess anyone. I’d simply borrowed his penis for a brief—regrettably brief—period of time and thrown it back into the wild.
That wasn’t jealousy. It was irritation. He doesn’t get to judge me for Troy and Dr. Sossaman and end a call from Donovan as if he owns me, all while he himself is actively seeing other women. Maybe she was his sister, but I didn’t know that. I objected to the hypocrisy of it all.
But when I close my eyes and recall seeing him walking down the street with her, I still feel exactly the way I did then: as if I’d been punctured. As if he’d stuck a thousand tiny knives in the center of my chest and all the air was escaping.
Which is not the way one typically reacts to hypocrisy.
Shit.
I go to sleep thinking about him groaning my name and wake remembering how rough and demanding he was. I should hate all of it, but I don’t. I love the way sweet, sweet Liam turned aggressive. I love the way he didn’t take a minute of my shit, the way he tore my panties and pressed his palm flat to my back.
God, I loved it so much.
He’s in the backyard when I walk outside in my sleep shorts and sweatshirt, Snowflake at my feet. I feel exquisitely naked under his gaze.
“Good morning, princess,” he says.
I should hate that too, but my mouth curves instead. “Good morning, yard boy.”
He meets me at the stairs, his broad hand grasping the rail, one foot casually resting on the bottom step. “Surprised I didn’t hear back from you last night. It’s not like you to take an accusation of jealousy lying down.”
I smile and walk down the steps until I reach the second from the bottom, which puts my mouth a millimeter from his. “Liam, I was already lying down. With my legs spread wide, thinking about the way you fucked me in the office. I guess I was too distracted to reply.”
And with that, I turn and walk back into the house. He’s silent, but I swear to God I heard him gulp.
* * *
I meetwith the mayor to show him the plans for the park and am nearly back to the store when I spy Liam across the street, talking to the kind of guy I would have said was my ideal before Liam: tall, hot, dark hair, nice suit.
Now, for some reason, I only seem to want Liam in his worn Levi’s and boots. I’m sure I’ll get over it, but it’s highly inconvenient when I need to be distancing myself.
I keep moving toward the store, and Liam jogs across the street to catch me. That he’s still thinking about what I said this morning is written all over his face. It’s as if no time has elapsed at all, except now I can’t simply saunter away without him following me.
I’m not sure I want to saunter away anyhow. I’m pretty sure I’ll implode if I don’t get a repeat of the other night somehow.
“Who was your hot friend?” I ask, nodding at the guy across the street.
He raises a brow. “Are you trying to make me jealous, Em? Jealous the way you were last night?”
Yes.
“Not at all. But I’ve got a couple more weeks in town, and I have some unmet needs.”
We enter the store. I keep walking to my office and he follows, as if this was our plan all along. A shiver moves down my spine.
“I’m not sure what you’re doing,” I say as I walk into my office. “But I don’t have a lot of time.”
The door clicks shut behind me.
“Fuck it,” he says, and without warning, his hands are on my hips and he’s spinning me so that my back is against the closed door.
Yes.
He’s already hard when his mouth lands on mine. The rasp of his jaw abrades my skin, one hand squeezing my hip, his fingers digging into my ass, while the other one palms my breast.
“You’ve got plenty of time,” he says against my ear, pinching my nipple hard.
A soft sigh escapes me. “I have a little time.”
He falls to his knees, pushing the skirt up before he slides a finger between my legs.
“Admit you were jealous last night,” he demands.
My eyes fall closed as my hands press flat to the door behind me. “I was…irritated.”
“By jealousy.”
He leans close, tugging the panties to the side.
And then his tongue sweeps over me.
“Oh. God.”
He pushes two fingers inside me, hard and unexpected. My knees wobble and I grab his shoulders to stay upright. “Just admit it, Em,” he croons. His hot breath ghosts over my clit, a tease I can barely stand not to give in to.
“You talk too much,” I whisper, running my hand through his hair. I feel the gust of his laughter against my core, but nothing beyond it. “Fine. I was jealous.”
“Good girl,” he whispers.
I should hate that too, but dammit…I don’t.
A muscle low in my belly contracts as his fingers glide in and out, keeping time with his tongue. That initial hint of need I felt before is now a heavy ache, as if I’ll explode if I don’t come, and yet…it’s not going to be enough. My breath is coming fast, my hands are tugging at his hair, but this isn’t what I want. I don’t merely have unmet needs. I have an almost desperate desire to watch him come apart with me.
I release him and slide away. His pupils are dilated, his mouth wet with me.
“Come here,” I pant, marching toward the desk. I lift my skirt around my waist as I sit atop it. When he’s close enough, I tug at his belt and pull his jeans and boxers down. He’s rock hard and throbbing against my palm as it wraps around him.
“Fuck yes,” he groans, pushing my legs apart as I pull his mouth to mine. I kiss him as if I plan to devour him, as if I’d fucking destroy him this way if I could. It is not inaccurate. I’d like to destroy him in a thousand ways, a thousand times over. I want to smash him into a million pieces and bury those pieces all over the world so he can’t be put back together, so he can’t exert this effect on me anymore.
“Fuck me,” I demand, leaning backward.
He grabs a condom from his wallet. Another pair of panties is effortlessly shredded, and then he is shoving inside me hard, knocking the air from my chest. He glances between us at the point where we are joined. “Jesus,” he says, seemingly more to himself than me. “I think I could come from the sight of this alone.”
“Don’t,” I hiss, as my head falls backward. “Not yet.”
But it’s not going to take me long. I was close before, and it’s so much more when he’s inside me, as if I’m filled to the point of pain, yet there is no pain. It’s just heat and need and this ever-growing ache.
“I’m going to come,” I warn, and his eyes darken. His thumb presses to my clit and I go off like a bomb, wrapping my legs around him as he thrusts hard and buries his mouth against my neck to stifle his own cry.
We remain pressed together, both of us slowly coming back down to earth. His lips graze my neck, moving over my jaw and up to my ear. “Thank you for admitting you were jealous.”
“I was horny. I’ll say anything when I’m horny. Ask me now.”
He laughs and thrusts inside me, still hard. “I’m pretty sure I could convince you to say it again.”
Yeah, probably.
He pulls out and ties off the condom. “Let’s go to lunch.”
“I don’t eat lunch.”
He rolls his eyes. “Princess, at a certain point, you’ll have to acknowledge we aren’t just fucking.”
I climb to my feet, straightening my skirt. “Look, it’s nothing against you. I justdon’t date.”
I’m worried he’s about to ask for a heart-to-heart, that he’s going to ask why I’m so broken and then try to convince me I can be healed. Instead, he presses his lips to my forehead while fixing my collar.
“Okay, Em,” he says. “But you’re twenty-eight. Maybe it’s time to start.”
It scares me how badly I want to agree.