Stolen Course

by Aly Martinez

  “Night, butternut!” Kara calls across the bar.

  I flash her a quick smile but keep moving toward the door.

  When I reach the truck, I can see Emma calmly sitting in the passenger’s seat, and my dick instantly goes rigid. I yank open the door and my eyes flash to her naked legs. Fuck, I love this woman. Or at least my cock does.

  “That’s a good look for you,” I say, climbing in.

  I openly stare for a minute. How could I not? Emma sitting naked from the waist down is enough to make lesser men cry. Hell, it’s more than enough to steal my breath.

  “I thought you’d approve.”

  She slips the cup holder up, converting the front into a bench seat. I watch as her glistening pussy slides across the leather, and I silently vow to never wash it again. She crushes into my side as her mouth finds mine. It’s been twenty-four fucking hours since I was last inside her, but my kiss is desperate. This woman is going to ruin me.

  For just a moment, I hold her close, forgetting all plans but rather just embracing this moment, making love to her with my mouth. I want this with Emma so God damn badly. I have no idea what this is, but I know for certain that it’s real. That’s a feeling I’m not used to these days. I’ve had sex with more woman since Manda than I ever did before her. But Emma isn’t a score or an empty orgasm. She is so. Much. More.

  I’m nowhere near ready to use L-word. I mean, who the hell knows what page Emma is on right now? What I do know is that I’m addicted. And she is the absolute best kind of addiction. Emma is life.

  My hand dives between her thighs and I roughly push two fingers inside her.

  “Oh God!” she screams, lying back across the seat, exposing herself completely

  “Jesus Christ, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck this tight little pussy tonight. This”—I curl my fingers inside her—“is mine.” She lifts her hips into my hand with a moan. “We are officially together. I don’t care about the rest of this bullshit we have going on. We’re going to figure this out one way or another. No one comes near this but me. Yeah?”

  She moves her bare foot to rub over my rock-hard cock, which is currently straining desperately against my zipper. “Does that make this mine?”

  “Exclusively,” I say with another finger curl that has her sitting straight up. “Say you got it, Emmy. We make this work and this is mine.”

  “I got it,” she says on a moan.

  “No, say all of it.”

  “We’ll make this work,” she whispers.

  “And?”

  “And this is mine.” She makes another swipe over my hard-on that makes me groan.

  “Emmy,” I warn.

  I rub my thumb over her clit. Lying back down, she begins furiously rolling her hips into my hand. She could care less that we are in middle of a parking lot. Emma is a sexual beast. I’ve been with her exactly once, but I could have told you that from our first night on the phone. She’s not timid or shy. She bares it all in every aspect—especially in bed.

  I tear my eyes away from her writhing body long enough to make sure no one can see what’s going on. I may have talked a big game inside, but I need to get her home. And I was wrong before. There is no way I can concentrate enough to drive while she’s riding my fingers.

  “Okay, sweetheart. We need to go so I can fuck all those little jokes out of you. I promise, you’re going to be screaming that this cunt is mine by the end of tonight.”

  I quickly twist my fingers inside her. I lick the thumb on my free hand then use it to make fast circles over her clit. She claws at the door above her head as I pump into her. Her muscles begin to clench as her orgasm draws near. With one last twist of my wrist, she explodes around me.

  “Caleb!” she shouts, and it echoes off the windows.

  “Jesus Christ.” I remove my hand. I would love to enjoy the moment of watching her come down, but even as it stands, there is no way I’ll get her home quick enough.

  With the turn of a key, my truck roars to life and I carefully speed out of the parking lot. Emma doesn’t bother to put her pants back on, but she does turn and crawl over, resting her head in my lap. She doesn’t even reach for my zipper, but it all feels so fucking right. The warmth runs through my chest, and this moment of closeness fucks even further with my head.

  I don’t know the what, when, where, or why about my life, but as I stroke her hair on the way home, I suddenly know the who.

  “Thanks for talking to Brett today.” She sits up and curls under my arm as I drive.

  “He’s my family too. I treat him like a dick a lot, but I never let it linger long. I swear I’ve apologized to Brett more than any woman in my life,” I joke, and thankfully she laughs along with me. I was worried that this would be yet another sore subject—one I can’t afford to have between us.

  “How’d you know where I’d be tonight?” She snuggles in close and finally drops a hand over my zipper. Thank Christ.

  “You said you were going out with Jesse. That woman is a creature of habit. I would have been there earlier, but Brett gave me the what for.”

  “Mmm, good. After this morning, you deserved hell.” She begins licking her way up my neck.

  At the very first stoplight, I grab her head and crash my mouth into hers. Palming her bare ass, I—

  Beep

  The wussy horn of a Prius sounds behind us, snatching me back down from my Erickson intoxication.

  “Home,” I mutter to myself as Emma begins to giggle beside me. “Laugh it up now. You only have about two more minutes before this is mine,” I say, darting a quick finger inside her. She sucks in a breath, but I don’t take my eyes off the road as I bring my hand to my mouth.

  Emma loves to challenge me, and I feel like I just won the World Series when she whispers, “Drive faster,” before sucking my earlobe into her mouth.

  Pulling into my garage, I click the button on my visor to close the door behind us. As soon as the darkness cloaks the garage, she climbs into my lap. With her round ass pressing against the steering wheel, she attacks my mouth. I immediately rise under her, pushing my hardening cock against her core. The sting of her hand pulling my hair sends a spark directly to my balls.

  “What the hell are you doing to me?” she asks, fiercely attacking my neck in the best possible way.

  Somehow I know she isn’t talking about this moment. Maybe I’m fraying her wires as well. None of this instant connection with her makes sense, yet somehow, as she physically assaults me in my truck, it strengthens me. Like rain from the sky, a million emotions randomly fall over me. I’m down, done for, lost, and ensnared. There is no going back from Emmy.

  “Funny, I could ask the same question.” I move my mouth to her covered breast.

  “Condom,” she demands.

  “Let’s go inside.”

  “I won’t make it that long.” She grinds down against my erection, causing us both to moan.

  “Wallet,” I relent, lifting my hips an inch to pull it from my back pocket. As soon as my ass is back on the seat, I reclaim her lips.

  We fumble around as I try to push my jeans down and Emma tries to roll the condom over my length, but finally all the stars align. I move my tip to her wet entrance and begin to glide inside.

  “Shit!” I exhale as she quickly begins to move over me. This isn’t enough, but then again, with Emma, it never is. I give her a few more strokes before stopping her completely. “Wait, sweetheart. Wait.”

  “No,” she answers, continuing her rhythm.

  “Damn it, stop.” I force her hips to still. “I’m not fucking you in my truck like a horny adolescent. Let’s go inside where I can take my time with you.”

  “Too late.” She smiles, and it’s magnetic, pulling more than just my body to hers.

  What I wouldn’t give to not be wearing this fucking condom right now. There is something so wrong about having something between us. I hold her down with my dick buried completely inside her. I won’t let her move until she says it.


  “Tell me you’re mine.”

  “You’re mine,” she says, struggling to rise—desperate to find her release. But what she doesn’t understand is that hearing her say those words would be mine.

  “Emmy, I’m not fucking around with you anymore,” I growl. “We make this work. It’s exclusive. No one touches you but me. Stop playing and tell me you get it.”

  “I got it.” She gives up her fight and kisses me breathless.

  “Tomorrow, I want you to get on the pill. I’m clean, and next time I’m inside you, I want to really feel you.”

  A small twinkle lights her eyes. “I’m already on the pill,” she says, running her hands up my chest.

  “Tell me you’re mine,” I repeat.

  “Take off the condom,” she says, moving her hands into the back of my hair.

  I chuckle and shake my head, knowing, as usual, that she’s still screwing with me. However, the idea of being bare inside her forces me to let it go.

  Emma pushes up on her knees, allowing me just enough room to snap off the rubber barrier. No sooner than my hands are out of the way, she slams down, rejoining us completely.

  “Jesus!” I shout, and she moans.

  She rides me in the front seat of my truck until I honestly can’t take it anymore. I turn, depositing her on the seat beside me, and slide out the door before she can protest.

  “I’m not finishing this here.” I pull my pants up then reach in and sling her over my shoulder. “My turn.” I slap her naked ass, and she lets out a loud laugh as I carry her into the house.

  For over an hour, I make good on my ‘plan.’ I take my time, touching every inch of Emma’s body before finally, and truly, making her mine. Sated, we silently lie in bed while I try to figure out a way to keep her. I need some magical fix-all that can help us both overcome our bullshit. And what I really mean is for me to overcome my bullshit.

  “I meant it, Emmy. We’re going to figure this out,” I whisper against her neck. “Something is going on here, and I know you feel it too. I want this. I want to see where it goes and what we can be together.”

  “What if we just keep Sarah separate from us?” she asks, confusing me.

  “She’s your sister. How do you propose we do that?”

  “Yes, she is my sister, and I love her. I know you don’t like her, and while I adamantly disagree with your reasons, I’m not too blind to see why you would feel that way. You know I’m going to see her and talk to her, and I’m not going to lie to you about that. However, it also doesn’t mean you need all the details.”

  “No, I really fucking don’t,” I snap a little too harshly.

  “And you know what I don’t need?” she says, suddenly sitting up and cocking her head at me. “Your attitude about it. If you want this to work, you are going to have to figure out a way to keep your hatred to yourself. I know it’s there. I definitely don’t need you to remind me about it every single time her name happens to come up.”

  Feeling like an ass, I sit up also and drag her across my lap. She quickly moves to straddle me, not even willing to relinquish control for a minute.

  “Fair enough. You don’t talk about her and I’ll keep my shit to myself?”

  “Yep,” she says shortly, but I can feel her body begin to relax.

  “Deal. Now tell me you’re mine.”

  “You’re definitely mine, Caleb,” she says with a smirk that has me growing hard all over again.

  IT’S MOVING day, and Eli just picked up the last load of Sarah’s stuff. True to his word, Caleb has been completely absent today. It doesn’t hurt. I understand his reasons, and after our little discussion, we both agreed that distance between him and Sarah is the best answer. I can’t keep them as separate part of my life forever, but for now, this seems to work.

  Eli Tanner is my new pal. He showed up bright and early this morning to help me move all of Sarah’s stuff into our new two-bedroom apartment. Without even asking, he walked in and immediately started packing boxes. We didn’t think it was right to ask Brett to help. His opinion of Sarah isn’t any better than Caleb’s right now. So Eli brought along another friend, Ty Stephens, to help. He’s a big quiet guy who has probably only said ten words to me all day. However, he’s been working his ass off. Between the two guys, they have made quick work of this move.

  “Hello?” I answer my phone. “Eli, no! That’s my room. Sorry…hello?”

  “Miss Erickson?”

  “Yes?” I say, pulling the phone away from my ear to look at the caller ID on the screen.

  “My name is Dr. Preston Clark. I work at Building Foundations. I’m currently treating your sister, Sarah.”

  “Oh, hi! Is she okay?” I quickly ask as guilt and panic settle in my stomach.

  I haven’t talked to Sarah since that day in the hospital. I’ve tried, but she just rejects my calls. I get updates from the center, but it’s always from her the patient coordinator, Judy. This is the first time I’ve actually heard from one of her doctors.

  “Yes, Sarah is fine. I was wondering if you would be available to come in for one of her therapy sessions this week?”

  “Really? Does Sarah know you’re calling? Does she want me there? Will she talk to me?” I rush out a million miles an hour, causing the good doctor to laugh a little.

  “Yes, she does. We were hoping you could come in tomorrow?”

  “Can I come today?” I can’t contain my excitement. I’ve been wanting to talk to her for weeks now.

  “Sarah’s session is in thirty minutes. Perhaps tomorrow—”

  “I’ll be there!” I jump to my feet, scanning the room for my keys.

  “Miss Erickson, really, tomorrow—” He starts, but I once again cut him off.

  “Please, please just let me come today! I’ve been dying to talk to her, but she has been avoiding me. Please. I can be there in twenty-five minutes.”

  He lets out a resigned sigh but finally answers. “Don’t speed.”

  “Thank you!! I’ll see you in a few.” I quickly hang up the phone. “Eli!” I scream, and he pokes his head around the corner.

  “What’s up, babe?”

  “Can you finish this up on your own? I hate to do this. I really, really appreciate your help, but I just got a call and I can see Sarah if I get there in the next half hour.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Go ahead and get out of here. I’ll drop the key off with Jones when we’re done.”

  “Thank you!” I shout over my shoulder as I sprint to my car.

  Thirty minutes later, I walk into a large medical building.

  “Hi, I’m Emma Erickson. I’m here to see Dr. Clark.”

  “Please have a seat. I’ll let him know you are here,” a sweet older lady says from behind a glass window.

  I sit in the waiting room, frantically trying to figure out what I’m going to say to Sarah. I have so many things to say, but I don’t want to set her off. Damn it, I really should have waited until tomorrow to figure out the best way to approach her.

  I nervously wait. I must redo my ponytail twelve times before they finally call me to the back.

  “Mrs. Erickson?”

  “That’s me.” I jump to my feet.

  “Hi, I’m Dr. Clark.” He extends a hand.

  “Hi. Please just call me Emma.”

  “Okay, Emma. Sarah is waiting for us in my office.”

  He guides me through the winding halls. This place is definitely more hospital-like than it is celebrity resort. I guess that’s what you get for a court-mandated treatment facility though.

  He stops just outside an office door. “Today is going to be you listening. I wish we could have had more time to discuss things on the phone, but it is what it is. This is not the time for you to tell Sarah how you feel. This is the time to listen and ask questions. Got it?”

  “I can do that,” I say, more eager than ever knowing that Sarah is on the other side of the door.

  Slowly, the good doctor swings open the door, revealin
g a woman I barely recognize. She sits in a chair, chewing on her nails and shaking her leg with nervous anticipation. Her hair, which has always been well below her shoulders, is now chin length. It’s blond, but not our natural white color. It’s fried and frizzy from overprocessing. She must have been dying it weekly to cause that kind of damage. She’s entirely too thin, and her clothes hang off her body.

  Tears immediately spring to my eyes as the guilt from not being there over the last few years twists a knife in my heart. Her eyes never rise to mine, and as my chin begins to quiver, Dr. Clark gently soothes a calming hand over my back.

  “Please have a seat, Emma.” He guides me to the loveseat sitting beside Sarah’s chair.

  I quickly run my fingers under my eyes to remove any stray tears that might have escaped. I’m heartbroken, but she doesn’t need to know that.

  “Hey, sis,” I say, reaching over to squeeze her hand.

  She doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t reciprocate either. Avoiding me with her eyes, she looks up at Dr. Clark.

  “Are okay with Emma being here, Sarah?” She doesn’t respond but offers him a quick nod. “Don’t be nervous. Emma loves you. She was so excited when I called. She insisted on dropping everything and coming straight here.” He smiles at both of us.

  “That’s true. I was moving your stuff into our new apartment,” I say, and her eyes immediately flash to mine.

  “New apartment?” she questions with wide eyes.

  “Yep, two bedrooms with a balcony and everything. It’s really nice.”

  “You really moved up here?” she asks with an unreadable expression.

  “I told you I was. Besides, I kind of like it here.”

  Sarah barks out a laugh. “Just wait until the winter. You’ll be hauling ass back to Savannah,” she says jokingly, and my eyes light up as I get the first true glimpse of my sister.

  “It was snowing when I got here. It’s freaking March. What the hell is that all about?” I joke, trying to hold back my happy tears.

  Sarah laughs, and it’s a beautiful sound. One that I’ve missed so much over the years. My hands are aching to hug her. I quickly drag the elastic band from my hair and redo my ponytail just to keep from reaching out to grab her.