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Love in Numbers: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Love Distilled Book 1)

Page 19

by Scarlett Cole


  He opened it and offered her his hand.

  “Thank you,” she said, stepping out of the cab and walking in front of him into the building. She looked over her shoulder and found him running his tongue along his lower lip as he watched her hips sway.

  “Are you checking me out?” she asked.

  “Too fucking right I’m checking you out. Walk ahead of me,” he encouraged.

  Knowing he was watching caused goosebumps to ripple across her skin. It felt voyeuristic of him, yet she felt safe under his heavy gaze.

  When she reached the elevator, she pressed the button as his hand slid around her waist. Connor pressed his lips against her skin. “When we get into the apartment,” he murmured. “All bets are off. You asked me what I wanted to do, and I told you. The fact that your panties are wet tells me you want what I’m offering. You change your mind, let me know. Otherwise, this goes how I want it.”

  A shiver trickled down her spine at his words. It was perhaps the most erotic warning she’d ever been given, and she couldn’t wait.

  “Connor,” she breathed.

  The elevator doors opened, and she caught sight of the two of them in the mirrored walls. Connor dressed in all black behind her, the blood red of her dress. As she stepped inside, Connor pressed the button for his floor and then spun her around. Her back hit the mirror as he slammed his lips against hers. She could feel every muscle, every part of him pressed up against her body…so close it felt as though they were one person.

  Their teeth hit, their tongues dueled. Connor thrust his fingers into her hair, holding her exactly where he wanted her. She couldn’t move, pinned in place by every part of him.

  The elevator slowed, the characteristic gentle bounce before it came to a stop, and Connor moved to stand alongside her. She bit her lip, holding back the grin of excitement as he reached for her wrist, slipping his fingers around it instead of holding her hand.

  It felt like an ownership of sorts, the sort that shouldn’t be so much of a damn turn-on.

  “When we get into the apartment, I’m going to slide those panties down your legs in the hallway, and then you have the sum total of five seconds to hop on the stool in the kitchen. Do not remove your heels,” Connor said.

  “Can I say one thing?” she asked.

  Connor stopped in front of the apartment door. “Always,” he said, his voice sounding as though it were loaded with gravel and whiskey.

  “I really like this side of you, Connor. I feel safe pushing boundaries with you.”

  He looked off down the hallway for a second, but he wasn’t fast enough for her to miss the grin that crept onto his face. When he looked back at her, the grin was gone, replaced with a need and urgency that was hard to miss. He ran a finger along her cheek.

  “Nothing between the two of us is wrong as long as we agree we want to try it. You’ll tell me if something isn’t right?”

  Emerson nodded.

  The door unlocked with a click, and Connor pushed it open, leaving her no option but to walk beneath his arm to step inside. He turned the lights on as the door shut behind them.

  As good as his word, Connor silently inched her skirt up her thighs until he reached the lace waistband of her thong. Slowly, he slid it down her legs.

  “Step out,” he said.

  Without being reminded, Emerson walked to the leather stool in the kitchen and hopped onto the seat. She crossed one leg over the other and leaned her arms back on the counter.

  With her red underwear still in his hand, Connor stalked toward her. He loosened his tie, sliding it from around his neck before he placed it on the table. Stalked was such a perfect word. Every step had purpose, his eyes never leaving hers. And it was she that he was coming for.

  “You and this dress,” he muttered as he got close to her. He reached for her knees, his fingers tickling the soft spot behind them, and she uncrossed them at this gentle pressure. His palms pressed her thighs open.

  Emerson watched as he rolled the hem of her dress higher and higher until she was exposed to him. The temptation to close her knees, to pull her dress down, was great. The vulnerability she felt was overwhelming her. But the look of adoration on Connor’s face kept her pinned in place.

  “Beautiful,” was all he said.

  His hands skimmed along her thighs until his thumbs reached her clit. She gasped as one thumb pressed against her wetness, before sliding up to her clit, then his other thumb repeated the action. A steady drumbeat of pressure and release.

  Pressure and release.

  Emerson allowed her head to drop back, and Connor wasted no time in pressing kisses along her collarbone, nibbling, biting, and leaving a trail of sensitized skin.

  When his finger slid inside her, she reached for him, grasping his bicep as he worked his way deep inside her.

  “Connor,” she gasped.

  He slid his finger out of her and placed it in his mouth. “You taste so good,” he said, before sliding back inside her. More firmly this time. Two fingers stretching her wide. He curled them upward, reaching the place within her that caused her muscles to tighten and the telltale signs of a pending orgasm to rush down on her.

  Emerson began to move against him, but Connor grabbed her hip, holding her exactly where he wanted her.

  She groaned in frustration.

  “Patience, Em.”

  Connor pulled a condom from the inside pocket of his suit jacket before unzipping his trousers. Freeing his length, he rolled it on. He reached behind her, grabbing her ass and pulling her toward the edge of the seat, lining them up at the perfect height.

  “Watch,” he instructed, his own eyes focused on the place where his cock rubbed against her.

  With a single firm push, he slid all the way inside her.

  “Ah, god. Connor.”

  He pressed his forehead to hers. “So good every time.”

  With his thumb circling her clit, he proceeded to withdraw and slide back home.

  Home.

  She’d never been more certain that with Connor she’d found it.

  Ignited sensations started to flame to life. A loud roar that overtook her ability to think straight.

  The sight of him, the sound of their bodies meeting. The fact she couldn’t move given the grip he had on her hip. It kept her focused on the one place she felt everything.

  “Connor,” she cried, feeling her orgasm bear down on her. “Please.”

  “Look at me, Em,” he growled.

  When her eyes met his, the look she saw in them sent her over the edge.

  Fuck.

  Nothing had ever felt better than Emerson coming around his dick, but once she’d caught her breath, he slid out anyway because if he didn’t, he was going to come…and he didn’t want to. Not yet. Not while they were both in the mood to explore each other without any kind of barrier between them.

  “Connor,” she sighed.

  He ran his thumb along her cheek. Yeah, he definitely didn’t want to come yet because he wanted to keep that look on her face for as long as he could. The look that told him she was right there with him. The one that said she was fuck-drunk on him and wanted more.

  Her lips were soft, pliable. And it was tempting to slide back inside her and finish. “You good, Em?” he asked.

  “I’m better than good by quite a large margin.”

  He took her hand, helped her down from the stool, and spun her so she faced away from him. He slid the straps of the dress from her shoulders, taking a moment to cool his heels. It was a snug fit over her hips, and he appreciated the way she wiggled to help him drop it to the floor.

  And then she was naked apart from the heels. Her back to him, he could see the curve of her hip, the roundness of her ass, the length of her tanned legs looking as sexy as all hell in her deep red heels.

  When she widened her stance slightly and glanced over her shoulder to look at him, he realized he was well and truly sunk for her.

  “You look fucking perfect, Em,” he said.<
br />
  She smiled. Smiled at him like the sun rose and set with him.

  He slid his jacket off and placed it on the back of the stool. All the while, her eyes were on him. Slowly, he removed the cuff links and reached alongside her to place them on the counter. The shirt buttons were next.

  “Can I help?” Emerson asked.

  Connor shook his head. “You touch me now and I’m going to bend you over that counter and take you until you can’t stand.”

  Even as he said the words, the vision of her, face down on the poured concrete surface, his hand in her hair, filled his mind.

  He slipped out of his shirt and made fast work of the rest of his clothes until he stood naked behind her.

  As exposed as he’d ever felt.

  His dick ached to be inside her, but he allowed it to slide between the cheeks of her ass, savoring the softness of her naked skin against his.

  Emerson sighed and let her head drop back against his chest.

  Her neck called to him, and he pressed a train of gentle kisses and soft bites along it. Connor spanned her waist, sliding his hands until he cupped her breasts. Pert nipples teased him, and he suddenly wanted them in his mouth.

  “Hold on,” he said, lifting her into his arms.

  “Wait, what?” she said and then squealed. “Oh.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his chest…and suddenly the bedroom seemed too far away.

  Instead, he laid her down on the blue rug in the living room. “I can’t wait,” he gasped as he raised her feet to his shoulders and slid back inside her.

  Still so wet from her earlier orgasm, she offered little resistance, but the position made everything feel so tight. He’d had sex before. Plenty of it. But this, with Emerson, was different.

  “Em,” he gasped.

  Her hands were over her head. Her breasts bounced as he thrust into her. She was so uninhibited, so…in sync with him, he felt almost delirious.

  Gently, he lowered her legs to either side of his hips and slipped off her shoes. As he lay down over her, he pushed himself deep inside. “Tell me you feel this, Em,” he said gruffly. “Tell me you feel the connection between us.”

  Emerson placed her hands either side of his face, and while his friends would probably call him a pussy, he felt so cherished. “I feel it. I’ve felt it for a while.”

  He rolled them onto their sides, remaining deep inside her, and kissed her tenderly. Softly. With his hand twisted up in her hair, he held her to him. His body wanted to move, to continue whatever this was until he was completely spent.

  But his heart needed a minute. Sixty seconds to process just how much she meant to him. He should probably say something. Perhaps explain why he suddenly felt like he’d just been poleaxed. Instead, he kissed her again. Passionately. Messily. And they began to move. He withdrew from her mouth and drove himself home. Emerson tilted her hips towards him, meeting him.

  She was so wet and warm and ready for him. They fit together in every conceivable way.

  “Em,” he said, rolling them so she was on her back again, so he could pin her to the rug and thrust into her.

  Sweat rolled between her breasts, between their stomachs. “I’m going to need you to come soon,” he gasped. Taking his weight on one arm, he slid his hand between them, circling her clit, applying the pressure he knew she loved.

  “Yes, Connor,” she cried, one hand around his neck, the other holding on to his arm.

  His orgasm built, the tightening of his balls, the juggernaut currently steaming down his spine. His head spun, but he kept his eyes on Emerson. Watching as her mouth opened in shock, as she held her breath and then gasped as she tightened around his dick.

  It was all he needed to let go and join her, pulse after pulse in glorious agony.

  His whole body shook as he sucked in gulps of air. Unable to maintain his own weight, he slumped over her, his nose pressed against her neck. Her skin damp and salty against his lips.

  Their hands linked above her head as he regained his breath.

  Feeling his dick slide out of her, he reached to make sure the condom came out, too. With a groan, he rolled onto his back feeling totally spent. Gathering Emerson close, he tucked her under his arm, and she laid her head on his shoulder.

  Neither of them said a word.

  It felt like the moment after he’d finished a race, in the few minutes that followed the celebration. The mental silence and clarity that followed was something he’d always sought. Peace to a brain that always worked on overdrive.

  “I feel like I should have said grace,” Emerson said.

  Connor ran his hand through her hair, getting his fingers caught in the completely disheveled updo. “Grace?”

  “You know, to be thankful for all the things I was about to receive.”

  Connor laughed, the action jostling his now-aching body. He could do an Ironman, but sex on the condo floor seemed to have fucked with his posture.

  “Are you really okay?” he asked, glancing down at her.

  “I’ll probably be sore tomorrow in places I didn’t know about. But, yes. I loved every minute of what we just did.”

  He pulled her tight. “I loved that it was you. You surprised me and turned me on more than I thought was possible. The image of you standing by the kitchen counter in just those fucking heels is likely going to haunt me at the most inappropriate moments for the rest of my life.”

  “Knowing it was you gave me the confidence to do that.”

  Connor’s heart squeezed at the thought of it. “We never really talked about preferences before tonight. About what you like sexually. And what I like. Perhaps we should do that.”

  Emerson circled her fingers on his chest, then raised herself on one elbow. She probably wouldn’t appreciate him telling her that the lipstick she’d believed to be indestructible wasn’t. He thought it was cute.

  “I don’t ever want to get hurt. Emotionally or physically. Name calling or pain. But this…you taking the lead the way you did tonight. I enjoyed this.”

  He took her fingers in his hand and kissed them. “We’re on the same page there. I can’t imagine doing either of those things. I’m not big into role-play, like pretending I’m your patient and you’re my nurse…but I guess that’s fine because your idea of that is dressing like a Wookiee.”

  Emerson snatched her fingers away and laughed. “I was a child.”

  “A child with dubious tastes.”

  Quiet blanketed the two of them again, and Emerson placed her head back on his shoulder. The feel of her body pressed up alongside his was more comforting than sexual now.

  “I liked the way you spoke to me. It was hot. Not going to lie,” Emerson said, softly.

  Connor smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Glad I could be of service. I liked the heels. Well, you in the heels with nothing else. Surprise me like that every now and then and I’ll be a happy man.”

  “Noted. I’ll set a reminder in my calendar.”

  She said it so primly he couldn’t help but laugh. He freed his arm from beneath her and stood. “We should go to bed before we pass out down here.” He offered Emerson his hand and helped her to her feet.

  “I might have friction burns in places I probably shouldn’t, but I wouldn’t change it.” She blushed as she spoke. “Not sure I’ll be able to look at the rug in quite the same way again. Or the stools.”

  They looked in the direction of the kitchen, where their clothes lay strewn around the island. “I don’t know,” Connor said with a laugh. “I think we should christen every piece of furniture that’ll take our weight.”

  Emerson grinned and then yawned.

  “Let’s get you into bed,” he said, leading her to his room. Once they were curled up under the sheets, her back pressed up against his chest, he kissed her softly. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she mumbled, telling him exactly what he’d hoped to hear.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Ho
w are you doing now that you’re back?” Emerson asked Olivia as they walked to the benches outside of the distillery for a bracing mid-afternoon cup of coffee. The leaves had fallen and crunched beneath their feet. Connor was right, November had come in with a roar. It was like they’d skipped fall and gone straight from summer to winter.

  “I’m tired in a good way,” Olivia replied. “But I’ve only begun to scratch the surface of what we need. I queued some social media posts to share over the next couple of weeks. But most of my time so far has been spent building the mother of all to-do lists.”

  Emerson took a seat on the bench. “I’m going to find it hard to not remind you to take it easy. I know you said you don’t want mothering, but…”

  Olivia dropped down onto the bench, pulling her light jacket closed. “I know you are. Since Mom died, you’ve been a mom to Jake and me as much as you’ve been a sister, and Dad let you. It wasn’t fair of him to let you take that on.”

  It wasn’t fair of her to criticize their father, either. “He was busy. He needed someone to—”

  “Yes, but it didn’t need to be you. You need to have a life outside of this. To see friends. To spend time with Connor. We’re old enough to handle our share, Em.”

  The words hit Emerson in her chest. “When did you get so wise?”

  “I’ve had time to think things through. And it’s always easier when it’s someone else’s problems. I get it. As for me, I’m only doing afternoons. And I know my own limits. I promise I’ll tell you if anything gets hard. The truth is, I’m enjoying being here. I wasn’t worried about coming back because I know you and Jake are looking out for me.”

  “Fair enough,” Emerson replied. “It’s pretty great having you back and seeing you around the place.”

  “It’s nice to be back in the office. And it will be great to get the events side of the business off the ground again in the tasting rooms, beyond those that were carried on while I was gone.”

  They sipped their coffee in silence, watching Stan, the warehouse manager, ensure the latest delivery got packed up and shipped off. The idea that it was headed to people who would love it warmed her insides.

 

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