24. Luke
24
LUKE
I wake up to Emory’s wavy hair all over my face. It’s on my cheek, my eyes, against my mouth. I look down and realize that she is lying directly on top of me. Like, planking me. She’s fast asleep, breathing softly, and her arms are thrown around my neck.
Have we been sleeping like this all night?
Last night comes back to me like a silent film reel in my head. Seeing her with that guy again. The fight. The rain. Fucking her against the side of a building while her brother was inside of it. Yeah, that might not have been the best idea. But we both needed it. In that moment, it was all I needed. I felt like I would have died if I didn’t get inside her right then and there.
We showered when we got back to my place, and I found myself pushing inside her again. I couldn’t help it. I also couldn’t help it when I saw her lying on my bed in my shirt, her damp hair clinging to her wet skin. I wasn’t going to fuck her again. I really wasn’t. But when I sat on the bed, it dipped, her shirt rode up, and I saw she wasn’t wearing any panties. She had it coming that time.
I still recall the panic in her voice when she warned me not to come inside last night. But I also know she's not stupid. As a nurse, she's aware that pulling out is, at best, seventy percent effective. I know this too, but I can't bring myself to care. Having sex without a condom is like getting glasses after a lifetime of seeing the world blurry.
That bullshit with Nate’s friend also plays over in my head . Turns out he’s my friend too. I texted Nate last night to apologize for bailing so early, making up a lame excuse about not feeling well. I also let him know that someone told me one of the guys was harassing Emory. He said he already took care of it. I guess that jackass, Ashton or whatever, did tell him. Nate said it was Mason, one of my good friends from high school. I heard he recently broke up with his girlfriend of five years because he caught her cheating. Nate said he's been self-medicating to cope with it, but that's no excuse to corner a woman alone and make her uncomfortable. Especially my fucking woman. Hopefully the black eye Nate gave him will help him understand that.
Part of me wishes I had given him the black eye. I was so ready to storm into that bar and rip it apart until I found out who messed with her. But it was better that I didn’t. We actually talked. Not about everything. She still won’t tell me the specifics of her past and her shitty ex, but what happened last night was progress, and I won’t turn my nose up at progress.
Emory starts to stir and lifts her head up, taking all the hair that’s spread out on me with her.
“Morning, baby,” I say as she starts to come to. I see the moment she realizes that she has been nearly suffocating me all night.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Did I crush you?” She slides off me, and I wince at the loss of her warmth.
“Would have been the best way to die,” I say with a smirk. “But no, it’s gonna take a lot more than that to get rid of me.”
A smile plays across her lips, and she turns her hips to move off the bed, but I grab her arm at the last second.
“Where do you think you are going?”
“I have to get ready for work.”
“How long do you need?”
“I don’t know. A half hour?”
I look over at my phone. Her shift starts in an hour.
“Perfect, we have just enough time.”
She rolls her eyes and groans. “Again? I’m still kinda sore from…last night.” The cutest little pink tint works its way up her cheeks at her own words. I love that the mere thought of us fucking is enough to make her blush.
“I won’t fuck you,” I promise, holding my hands up. “I just want to taste you.”
Her eyes go from timid to lust-filled in a matter of seconds. I knew that would convince her. She moves back onto the bed, laying her head down on the pillow and letting her legs fall apart.
“That’s what I thought,” I say smugly. “Can’t resist, huh?” I move over her, speaking directly against her mouth and pulling up her shirt.
Fuck, she’s still not wearing underwear.
“You put up all these walls, Caldwell. You don’t let anyone in…” I move down, licking a line across her left nipple. She sucks in a breath. “You wear a mask, so you don’t have to show anyone how you really feel.” I take her nipple into my mouth, swirling and sucking, then flicking the tip with my tongue. “But…” I move down lower, running my tongue down from her breastbone to her belly button. I keep going, now low enough to bite her inner thigh. That earns me a soft moan. “I know who you are,” I whisper, my hot mouth right above her clit. I continue the assault, licking and nibbling so close but avoiding the spot where she needs me the most. Emory whines, but I don’t give her what she wants. Not yet.
“You think you’re weak, but you’re one of the strongest people I know,” I say between licks. “You think you’re too serious, but you love to laugh.” I stop my movements for a moment, resting my head against her. “God, you drive me fucking crazy,” I admit. And then I’m back to swirling the wet heat of my tongue, just shy of her clit.
“Does this make you crazy?” I taunt. “Knowing I’m so close?” I move my tongue down further and further...until I’m a hair’s breadth away. “If I move down just a fraction of a centimeter…it will feel so fucking good,” I rasp against her, the vibrations of my voice making her squirm.
She whimpers but doesn’t say anything. “See, I know you,” I go on. “I know you like being teased. I know you like having to wait for it. You like the thrill of the chase. And I know the second you can’t take it anymore, and you need it like you need your next breath. I can see your fucking clit throbbing, Emory. It’s aching for me. You want your pussy licked, hard and deep. You feel like you might die if you don’t get it, right?”
She nods her head, tears springing to her eyes.
“Say it,” I demand.
“I need it, Luke. Please, please, please,” she chants, her words frantic and jumbled, as if she can’t even think straight right now.
The second my tongue flicks her clit, her hips buck off the bed, and she starts writhing.
“Shhh, baby,” I coo. I throw my arm over her waist, holding her down as she squirms, and continue licking and sucking before moving further down to spear my tongue into her tight heat. She cries out, but I’m not ready for her to come yet. I move back up and flip us over so she’s on top now.
“W-what?” She looks confused for a second and then irritated. “You said you would?—”
“I know, baby. I will. Come here. Grab the headboard.”
“Why?” she asks, her voice shaky.
“I want you to sit on my face.”
“Sit on your?—”
“Yes. Sit on my fucking face, Emory.”
With some hesitation, she grabs onto the headboard and slowly begins to lower herself down until she reaches my waiting mouth. The second she feels the warmth on her again, all hesitation disappears, and she grinds up and down with confidence.
She’s letting go now, and I’m about to lose it myself. I reach down and slide off my boxer briefs, taking my aching cock in my hand. I pump myself, matching her thrusts. She screams, and I can feel her wetness drip down my face, fueling my own orgasm. I move her off me, flip her onto her back, and jerk my cock, spilling onto her stomach. We both collapse, catching our breath.
“Shit, sorry,” I say, looking over at my cum pooling on her belly. “I wasn’t planning on that.” I am sorry I didn’t warn her, but I can’t say my spent dick doesn’t still twitch at the sight.
“It’s okay. That was—” she starts to say. “Fuck…”
“Yeah,” I agree.
We lie there for a few moments, and then I get up and grab a warm washcloth, rubbing it over her stomach in gentle circles, making sure she’s all clean.
“Thanks,” she says, but there’s a hint of hesitation in her voice again. It seems to be a pattern—her shutting down after sex. She sometimes lets me in a little leading up to it, but then after her walls go back up. No doubt, it has something to do with that motherfucking ex of hers, which sends me into a blind rage. I take a calming breath because she doesn’t need my anger right now. She needs my support.
“Hey.” I sit beside her. “I meant every word. You are strong. Whatever it is, you’ll get through it. And when you’re ready, you’ll tell me everything. I’m not going anywhere.”
“What if—” she says in a measured tone. “What if I’m never ready?”
“Then I’m still not going anywhere.”
“Okay.”
“Okay…”
“I want to do this, Luke. Really do this. I want to be your girlfriend.”
“Oh,” I say, feigning awkwardness because I can’t pass up the opportunity to mess with her. “I didn’t ask you to be my girlfriend…”
“No—I mean,” she tries to backpedal. “We don’t have to put a label on it or anything.”
I laugh and kneel on the floor at the edge of the bed. “You didn’t let me finish. I didn’t ask you to be my girlfriend…yet.” I bring my left leg up so now I’m on one knee. “Emory Grace Caldwell, will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” I throw in a cheesy smile for good measure.
She giggles and playfully swats my chest. “You’re an idiot.” She shakes her head but can’t hide the smile creeping up her face.
“Sure, but you still didn’t answer my question.”
“Fine.”
“Fine? That’s it? No more gushing over making this official? No more ‘Luke, I’m ready to be your girlfriend,’” I say in a high-pitched, whiny voice.
She laughs again. It’s her most genuine laugh—the kind that makes my chest squeeze so tight that I have to take an extra breath.
But then she looks like she’s lost in thought again.
“Hey, how did you know my middle name?” she asks.
“I told you,” I say. “I know you.”