by Melody Grace
“Phew.” I let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “You had me worried there.”
We head out from the shore, lights from town beginning to shine bright against the darkening sky. The breeze picks up, so I grab a sweater from my bag, and then go to sit by the back of the boat, watching Emerson behind the wheel. He’s relaxed and confident: adjusting our speed, checking the navigation and instruments. His body is sure and strong in the twilight, and there’s something incredibly hot about the total control he has over our ride.
He turns to find me watching him, and smiles. “You remember that schooner I took you out in?”
“That wreck?” I laugh, thinking of the tiny old boat he borrowed one afternoon so we could go out sailing around the bay. I shake my head at the memory. “That thing had so many leaks, I’m surprised we didn’t go down in the middle of the bay.”
“Me too,” Emerson grinned. “I was trying to act so cool and together, but all I could keep thinking was I couldn’t drown before I got you naked again.”
I laugh, hugging my arms around me. Emerson notices and fishes a jacket out from underneath one of the seats. “You always did get cold,” he murmurs, tucking it around my shoulders. I blink, inhaling the scent of him, mingled with the salty sea air.
Our eyes catch, and I know that both of us are thinking about that midnight deadline. Damn, but it’s going to be a long night.
Emerson gives me a rueful smile, then takes the wheel again. I scoot back in my seat and try to focus on the gorgeous scenery outside the boat—instead of the masterpiece I’ve got right here in front of me. As we skirt around the bay, twilight fades into a dusky pale sky, the shoreline turning to dark shadows against the dark water. I let the motion of the waves wash through me, marveling that after all these years, I’m right here with Emerson, all over again.
I smile to myself. Never mind all the emotion and uncertainty dancing away in the back of my mind. Tonight, I just get to be with him, out here on the ocean, away from dry land and all the complications waiting back on shore.
“What are you smiling at?” Emerson asks. I look up to find him watching me, a quizzical expression on his face.
“This.” I shrug, self-conscious. “You. Us.” I quickly realize my mistake, and try to cover it. “Not, you know, us, just being here, right now…It’s…nice, is all I’m saying.” I trail off, blushing. I hope Emerson doesn’t freak out, or think I’m getting ahead of myself. One date doesn’t make a relationship, I know.
“Good.” Something flickers across Emerson’s face, a shadow that makes me wonder if he’s thinking of bad memories, but then it’s gone, and he’s looking at me with a quiet intensity that takes my breath away.
He glances down to check his watch. “Three more hours,” he says, with a dark grin. “And then I promise you, ‘nice’ will be the last word on your mind.”
“Feeling pretty cocky, huh?” I tease.
“Damn right,” Emerson shoots back with a smirk. “You haven’t had any complaints so far.”
I laugh. Something in me registers that it’s crazy to be joking about this—about falling into bed with him again, when I know that it’ll rob me of my last shred of self-control and sense—but there’s something so easy about it, a natural banter like we’ve always been laughing and talking together. Like there’s never been any darkness between us.
My thoughts are interrupted by a rumble in my stomach, reminding me I haven’t eaten in hours. Was it really this morning I had breakfast, miserable and hung over back in the city with Lacey?
Emerson must hear it too, because he laughs. “Nearly there.”
We sail for another five minutes or so, until we reach a secluded cove. It’s a beautiful spot: sheltered from the rest of the bay by an outcropping of rocks, with the beach visible in the distance. Emerson cuts the engine, so we’re drifting, bobbing gently on the evening tide.
He fetches up the hamper, and a blanket and pillows, setting them out on the deck like a real picnic. I settle down and get comfortable, and he hands me a beer.
“We should toast,” I say, holding up my bottle.
“What to?” Emerson asks.
Suddenly, my mind goes blank. Everything I could say seems loaded with meaning. Should I toast to new beginnings? To the past? To moving on? Nothing sounds right.
“How about, to unexpected reunions?” Emerson suggests, when I don’t answer.
I take a quick breath of relief. “To unexpected reunions,” I echo, clinking my bottle against his.
Emerson unpacks the hamper, and soon we’re digging into the delicious meal. We chat easily—simple, no-conflict topics like how we’ve spent the last few years: the trips we’ve taken, how school is going for me.
“If you’ve got finals coming up, shouldn’t you be back at school?” Emerson frowns when I tell him about my unofficial study leave.
“I don’t need to be there until the actual exams,” I say. “I brought all my books back with me, and I only need a few more credits to graduate.”
“Then what?” Emerson tilts his head to look at me.
I glance down, and give an awkward shrug. “I don’t know. I thought I had it all figured out,” I explain. “I was going to move up to DC, with Daniel.”
“Daniel.” Emerson repeats it slowly. “So that’s his name.”
I feel a stab of guilt. Two years I was with the guy, and already it’s like I’ve forgotten about him. But Emerson does that to me: he blots out everything else in the world, like we’re the only people who have ever existed for each other.
I shake my head, focusing back on the man in front of me. The one waiting patiently for answers. “Anyways, I guess that’s off now, so…” I trail off, realizing for the first time that it wasn’t just my relationship with Daniel I threw away when I broke things off, it was my whole entire life plan. The apartment, the job, the move…For months now, I’ve known exactly what’s waiting for me on the other side of graduation, but now?
Now, there’s just a blank slate. And it scares the crap out of me.
I gulp down the rest of my beer to mask my anxiety. “What about you?” I ask brightly. “You never thought about getting out of town?”
Emerson looks out, across the ocean. He gives a slow shrug. “I never really had the choice. I mean, Brit and Ray Jay needed someone around to look out for them.”
“But they’re grown up now,” I point out.
He snorts. “Debatable. Brit’s still leaving shit all over my apartment. She keeps saying she’s going to move out and get a new place, but… it doesn’t happen.”
I cringe, remembering her shocked look walking into the storage room. “And what about your mom?” I venture, awkward. “Is she…?” I trail off.
“Sober? Clean? The fuck if I know.” Emerson’s face takes on a new harshness, and something in my heart aches with pain for him. “She shows up, every couple of years,” he adds, with a bitter twist in his voice. “Saying how sorry she is, how she wants to come back and get her act together this time.”
“Maybe she means it this time?” I ask quietly. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”
“Oh yeah?” Emerson’s eyes catch mine, and suddenly we’re not talking about his mom anymore. He holds my gaze, dark and intent, and I see that shadowed, haunted look flit across his face again, like the past is creeping back around us no matter how hard we try to keep it at bay.
I swallow hard, then nod. “Sometimes people make mistakes,” I say softly, gathering all my courage. “But if they’re sorry, and they want to make things right, maybe they deserve that shot. To explain why, and make things right.”
“You really think excuses can make a difference?” Emerson’s expression is pained, but vulnerable for a moment, and my heart leaps that there’s a crack in his hard façade.
“Everybody has their reasons.” My heart skitters with nerves. “How do you know if you don’t try?”
Emerson drains his beer then tosses the bottle aside. He opens his mout
h, and for a moment our eyes meet, and something hovers in the air between us, fragments of emotion and the truth we’ve never spoken. My heart leaps.
Then the shutters slam down in his eyes, and Emerson’s mouth twists into a pained, brooding smirk. “Some things don’t deserve to be forgiven.”
Emerson’s body is tense now, coiled and waiting, and I feel a stab of pain and regret shoot through me. I have to dig my nails into my palms not to let out a gasp of dismay. Is that what he thinks about me—or are we talking about his mom again?
I don’t know what to say to him, I don’t even know where to start. I need an explanation about why he broke things off four years ago, but how can I ask when the truth might be worse than I ever imagined? Is there even anything he can say to me to make it all OK?
I press my lips together, miserable. The silence drags on, unbearable, as the boat gently rocks on the waves. Then Emerson looks across the blanket at me. “Why did you come back?” he demands.
“I told you.” I look down, my voice small. “Dad’s broke. He wants to sell the house.”
“Bullshit,” Emerson curses. “You could have had someone else come, you could have left it all alone. But you came back. Why?”
I keep my gaze fixed on the deck, the ocean, anywhere but him. “I couldn’t trust anyone else to pack it up right. All the memories...”
“Don’t lie to me!”
In a sudden motion, Emerson sweeps the plates and containers aside. He grabs me by both arms, pulling me towards him so that I have no choice but to look at him. To stare into that beautiful blue abyss, as dark and tormented as I’ve ever seen it.
“Cut the bullshit, Jules.” His grip is tight on my skin, “Tell me why you came back.”
My heart leaps into my throat. I swallow back a sob.
He’s right. I’ve kept telling myself, and everyone else, that I had to be here. I had no choice. But the truth is, I couldn’t stay away.
I didn’t want to.
“Tell me, Jules.” Emerson’s voice turns pleading. His eyes are desperate, begging me for the answer I’m too afraid to admit.
But I have to.
“You,” I cry, my voice echoing out across the silent ocean. “It’s always been you!”
A look of wonder flashes across Emerson’s face, and then he’s pulling me to him, capturing my mouth in a desperate, drowning kiss.
I come undone.
Emerson kisses me like it’s the end of the world, like we’ve only moments left to live, and there’s nothing he wants more than to possess me, completely. No past regret, or heartache, nothing but our lips and tangled tongues and the steely embrace of his arms locked tight around me, crushing me against his chest.
This is like nothing I’ve felt before. It’s like a tidal wave of sensation is breaking over me, and I have no choice but to be swept along, falling deeper into the intoxicating taste of him. I grab at his shirt and cling to him, all my worries and insecurities dissolving in an instant under the hungry probe of his tongue, and the feel of his hands searing a blazing trail across my skin as he lays me down beneath him on the hard deck.
I tear off his shirt and lock my legs around his waist, arching up against him as he yanks down the tiny straps of my sundress and then rips it over my head, baring me to the night. I gasp at the chill of air against my bare skin. He buries his face in the hollow of my neck, sending sharp bolts of pleasure down my body with every new kiss. The electricity crackles, hot and wet between my thighs as he sucks and bites his way along my collarbone and down across my bare breasts, his mouth hot and demanding on my skin.
Oh God, yes.
His hand slips between my legs, and then I’m arching up against his touch, moaning as his fingers stroke and tease through my panties. His touch shivers against me, sparks of pure sensation, but every time I buck into his hand, he holds me back, scratching lightly over the fabric with his fingertips until I’m writhing, aching for him, crying out with frustration.
Emerson lifts his head, gazing at me with a dark, hooded look as he toys with me. I beg him wordlessly with my eyes, gasping until he roughly yanks my thighs apart. He gives me a swift, possessive stroke before he sinks one finger deep inside me.
I cry out, lifting my hips as his hand begins to pulse against me. I clench around him, mindless from the fast rock of his finger and the lightning rasp of his tongue as he dips his head back to my breast and drags his mouth across my nipples.
Closer. Harder. Now.
I roll us, landing on top and thrusting down hard against his hand as his mouth keeps tormenting my breasts.
He pushes another finger up inside me.
The world spirals out of focus. Even the distant lap of the ocean is gone now, drowned beneath the roar of blood in my ears and the hungry thunder of my heartbeat. Emerson’s fingers surge inside me, and I bite down into his shoulder, mindlessly bearing down on the dark, delicious pressure like I’m possessed.
We’re beyond tenderness or teasing now, gasping and clawing at each other as we fight for control. But it’s never been an even fight. Emerson rolls again in a single movement, trapping me beneath him. He drags his head from my chest, and a chilled blast of air replaces the warmth of his mouth on my nipple. I yelp, tensing as he rips my panties away, leaving me totally naked, spread and breathless on the deck.
He looks down, eyes raking over my body with a look of wild abandon in his eyes. He’s on the edge, ready to lose control completely, and I feel a shot of power that I’ve stripped away all his last defenses. For a moment, he’s poised there above me, our breath coming in ragged gasps, then he slides his way down my body and grabs above my knees, pushing my legs open and setting my ankles around his neck. He bends his head and sets his mouth against me, licking across the tender apex of my thighs in a long, harsh sweep.
“Oh God!” I cry out, hearing my moan echo out across the bay as his tongue laps at my most sensitive point, dipping down to probe inside me. There! He licks up again, sinking his fingers back inside me as he sets about undoing every last coherent thought in my mind. His tongue licks me faster as his fingers pulse from the inside, the shockwaves coiling closer and tighter, and I buck against his mouth, desperate for the delicious friction of each new lick, and suck, and thrust—
Emerson pulls away, and I cry out again, this time in desperate frustration. I grab for him, gasping for release, but he sweeps my hands aside and pins my wrists to the deck in one swift motion so I’m trapped there, helpless beneath him. His gaze pierces all the way through me, wild and blazing with lust. I struggle against his grip, hating the space between us, needing his mouth on me again, but Emerson stays just above me, keeping my wrists locked in place pressed painfully against the deck.
He watches me, his jaw clenched, every muscle in his body solid and tensed above me. Out of reach.
I writhe, straining against his iron grip. “Please,” I gasp, not caring that I’m begging. Right now, in this moment, I’d do anything to feel him inside of me, any fucking thing he could ever ask or demand.
I’ll give all of me just to possess him one more time.
“Please, Emerson!” I whimper.
“What?” he growls. “What do you want from me?”
“Fuck me!” My voice breaks.
Something shatters in his expression. Emerson’s eyes flash, wild. He releases my wrists and scoops my body to his with a deep, guttural groan. He kisses me, devouring my lips as I yank open his jeans and push them down. He’s hard and ready for me, and I instinctively arch up, opening my thighs wider, already aching for the thick fullness of him.
He finds me, slamming inside with a single thrust that sends every nerve and cell in my body screaming with pleasure.
Holy fuck!
I fall back with a cry, clawing my nails against his back, surging to meet his thrusts with my own as he rocks into me, hard and deep and unrelenting. He’s filling me up, splitting me open with a gorgeous ache. I open wider, pulling him deeper, and the pain melts into a
heavy-boned sweetness, radiating out through my whole entire body. Emerson drops his mouth into the hollow of my neck, groaning desperately against me as I slide my hands over the slick contours of his chiseled ass. I’m panting, wild, utterly lost in the mindless rhythm of our bodies and the dark craving that calls from the very heart of me. I arch up against him, driving my hips hard against his, grinding fresh sparks of friction through my body, but it’s not enough. My veins are itching from the inside out, a sweet thickness pulsing in my bloodstream, coiling tighter, spiraling out from my aching core with every new hard thrust of Emerson’s cock.
I cling to him, caught on the edge. I’m sobbing with need, strung out so close to the edge of the world, but caught, powerless to plunge over the precipice.
Emerson plunges faster, his body rock hard with tension, the sound of his breathing labored and desperate. “Jules,” he groans against me.
I answer with a desperate moan, head flung back against the deck. I gaze blindly into the night, crying out with a hollow need. The sky is dark, scattered with stars that seem to fade, dim against the fierce boil of pleasure rising in me.
“Baby,” Emerson gasps, thrusting deep inside me. He grabs my face in one hand, forcing it around to meet his gaze. His eyes are unflinching, blazing into me as his body wreaks its havoc on mine with wretched precision. There’s no escape from the devastation. I’m drowning in him, every sense overwhelmed, and I claw for some last solid ground, trying to look away, but he holds me tight in place, forcing me to look at him, demanding everything I have to give.
Everything I am.
He sees past my secrets, past my lies, stripping me naked. His eyes don’t stray from mine for a second, not even as his body slams into me and my cries rise up into the silence of the dark night. I’m clenched tight, prisoner to pure sensation, aching and grasping, but I can’t make it over, the release waits just out of reach.
“Come for me,” he growls, jaw clenched. “Dammit, Jules….come for me. Now!”
He slams into me one final time, his raw, guttural cry echoing out across the bay. His body is suspended above mine for a moment, shaking with tension, then I see his gaze flash and the first wave of release roll across his face. He cries out, wordless, shuddering into me, and his desperate surrender is enough to break me wide open. I shatter, screaming his name, my cries mingling with his as the storm of ecstasy sweeps through me and I fall headlong into the deep blue darkness of his soul.
