Emma laughed and ran her fingers through Brogan’s hair. “I bought a car today. I wanted to feel confident.”
Brogan hooked a finger in the delicate waistband and peeled it away from the beautiful body before her, murmuring something about how much she liked confidence.
Emma curled her fingers more tightly at the back of Brogan’s head and held her close. “Good, but I like showing more than telling.”
Brogan rose to the challenge and back to her feet. Taking command of Emma’s mouth with her own, they were off again. Brogan hiked Emma’s leg over her hip, then used her free hand to cup Emma’s ass. With one fluid movement, she managed to lift Emma off the ground, pivot, and sit her on the edge of the dining-room table.
Emma gasped at the abrupt repositioning, or maybe the cool wood surface against her bare backside. Still, she kept her leg tightly around Brogan’s waist. Their lips locked as Brogan moved a hand between their bodies and then between Emma’s legs. Finding all the encouragement she needed in the wetness pooling there, she pushed slowly and steadily inside Emma.
“Brogan,” Emma called, breaking the kiss as her head fell back. “Yes, Brogan.”
She loved the sound of her own name in Emma’s mouth, on her lips, rumbling through her throat, with so much raw need. Her chest expanded with the knowledge that she could fill that need. The power surged in her again, and she pulled back only far enough to push forward again. This time she ran her thumb around Emma’s clit. Emma in turn stroked her ego by tightening her thigh around Brogan’s hip, trying to hold her closer. Brogan increased the pressure with each forward thrust, but then she’d pull back teasingly, to experience the physical sensations of Emma’s body trying to draw her back in. She warred between the desire to fill her completely, and the thrill of playing this beautiful body for more, but her better— or baser— instincts won out each time. Her hips rocked toward Emma, pushing her hand forward as they went.
Emma leaned forward again, resting her forehead against Brogan’s for a steadying second before her hands and mouth set to work covering Brogan’s torso in kisses. Kneading a breast, biting her ear, scratching her nails down the taut muscles of Brogan’s back before sucking on her neck, their movements became a frantic blur. Brogan lost track of who was touching what as her heart pounded out a bass beat to match a single word. “More.”
Gradually Emma’s rasps took on a high pitch as each breath grew shallower. Brogan gave a fleeting thought to holding back. No part of her wanted this to end, but like every other time she’d tried to restrain herself around this woman, Emma merely had to breathe her name plaintively, and Brogan’s resistance shattered.
With one emphatic push, she stilled against her, inside her, and basked in the pulse of Emma around her.
Slowly, the shivers of orgasm subsided, and tense muscles uncoiled in their still intertwined bodies. Emma went slack with Brogan still inside her.
Brogan closed her eyes and rested her head on Emma’s chest, trying to regain her composure, but all she could manage to do was say, “This feels too good. I want to stay inside you.”
Emma kissed the top of her head. “That sounds as good as it feels.”
“Yeah?” Brogan asked.
Emma tugged on her hair, tilting Brogan’s head back until she could kiss her again. Then sliding her lips over to whisper in her ear, she said, “Stay inside me while I stroke you.”
She lifted her leg to press one heel into Brogan’s ass again. Holding her close, she worked her hands between their bodies.
She unsnapped Brogan’s jeans, loosening her hold on her waist only enough to push the denim roughly to the floor. She kissed her again, scooting closer to the edge of the table, her body pulling Brogan’s fingers deeper as she slid her own palm down tightened abs and into the waistband of Brogan’s boxers.
Brogan’s body was on overload. Too many nerve endings fired at once. She couldn’t decide what to focus on until Emma found her clit. They both tightened at once, Brogan in every major muscle group, and Emma around Brogan’s fingers.
Brogan dropped her head to Emma’s shoulder again and planted her free hand flat on the table, bracing herself securely enough to stay upright. Or at least she hoped she could stay upright, but as Emma ran her fingertips through the evidence of Brogan’s desire, she wasn’t at all sure she wouldn’t cave under the perfect pressure.
Emma ran one finger along the length of Brogan’s desire and groaned. “How long have you been so wet for me?’
Brogan bit her shoulder, her mind rebelling at the math before her honesty overtook her. “About four months.”
Emma’s hips jerked up, driving Brogan even deeper.
“God yes,” one of them said, but she didn’t know which. Emma circled her now, her pressure becoming more insistent, causing Brogan’s knees to shake.
“I don’t know how much more I can take,” Brogan admitted through clenched teeth.
“I think we’ve waited long enough,” Emma said. Her hips undulated, and she nipped at Brogan’s ear. Then with each stroke of her fingers, she added, “You can take whatever you want . . . whenever you want . . . as often as you want it . . . from here on out.”
The words, combined with the skillful touch, sent Brogan’s mind into oblivion and her body crashing into Emma.
Pushing inside Emma and up against her, Brogan rode waves of release, the sheer force of her arousal the only thing keeping her upright. Her vision flashed white, and her muscles screamed, but she held on until she could shake every excruciating shudder of pleasure from her core, and from Emma’s.
Then when she finally had nothing left to give, she slipped toward the floor, but Emma was too fast. She wrapped her arms around Brogan, holding her steady, even as both of them trembled. She urged Brogan’s arm over her shoulder and led her toward her room, her knees wobbly enough only to get them to the bed before they both collapsed.
Chapter Sixteen
Emma straddled Brogan’s naked body, rocking against the two fingers inside her, and watching hazily as the ab muscles beneath her contracted. They’d made love in various stages of lust throughout the night and again as the morning reflected golden over the North Sea. Brogan looked golden, too, bathed in the light streaming through the back windows. Emma wanted to memorize this moment, from the play of the sun across her light skin, to the way her hair curled across her forehead damp with perspiration, to the way she felt moving inside her. Even as she ached to surrender to the oblivion of her impending climax, Emma wanted to keep Brogan right where she was, always.
The power of the thought struck her in the chest, but it didn’t terrify her now. Nothing could make her afraid with Brogan’s strong, steady hands on her. And that thought tipped her back into the moment and right over the edge. She arched back in one beautifully toe-curling moment of bliss, then fell forward onto Brogan’s chest.
They breathed slowly and deeply as she listened to the sound of Brogan’s heartbeat regaining a more even rhythm. Then with a sigh, Emma rolled off her only enough to settle into the crook of her arm. “Do you know how long it’s been since someone touched me like that?”
Brogan shook her head against the pillow. “No one has ever touched me like that.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Brogan eased onto her side to view Emma more fully. “Don’t. I mean it. I won’t lie and say I haven’t been with other women. We’ve both seen how our pasts can shape our futures, but this is something different for me. No one has ever made me lose my inhibitions like you did, because no one has seen me the way you do. Not even myself, Emma. The things you said about me back at the pub . . .” Her voice caught, and Emma’s heart broke a little again.
“I meant every word of it.”
“I believe you. Or I at least believe you believed you, and I want to believe it, too.”
“How could you not?”
“Because until you came along, I didn’t have any reason to. No one has ever seen me as anything out of the ordina
ry before, especially someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” Emma laughed. “Someone who screamed at you upon first meeting? Someone who hid and cried and was totally planning to wither away until you came along?”
“I didn’t do anything special.”
Emma shook her head. “You don’t get to decide that. I do, and I say you helped me back on my feet. You helped me find my way and my path.”
Brogan kissed her forehead. “You had that in you all the time.”
“That’s probably true, but I didn’t see it until you showed me how much you believed in me. You came into my life, and you weren’t like any of the hundreds of other people who wanted something from me, or tried to tell me how to live, or whispered behind my back. You just showed up and showed me something better. You acted like my recovery was a foregone conclusion. You talked about spring and new life, and then you showed me a new way to live, like I deserved it.”
“You do deserve it. You deserve all those things and much more.”
“I do,” Emma said, “but so do you.”
Brogan’s smile grew tight, and Emma took hold of her face, so close Brogan had no choice but to meet her eyes. “Listen, I spent the last two weeks fighting to stay present, to be the person you showed me I could be. I filled every need from my stomach, to my career, to friends, to a new car, and I did all of those things on my own, but there was still something missing. I shouldn’t have just been fighting for me. I should have been fighting to get you back.”
Brogan’s jaw tightened under Emma’s fingers. “No one has ever fought for me before.”
“I’m sorry for that. I didn’t realize what you’d been led to believe about yourself. I let my own insecurities cloud my vision. I only ever saw you as beautiful and competent and strong and sexy and steady, whereas I saw myself as the opposite of all those things. I didn’t see what someone like you would want in a mess like me.”
“And I saw you as a stunning, successful, talented, poised, and powerful woman of the world, while I was so ordinary, barely worth noticing, much less, wanting.”
“I hope last night put to rest some of the fears about wanting, but I’m sorry I was too wrapped up in the pain caused by someone else’s opinion of me to see that you were dealing with the same sort of delusions.”
“They aren’t easy to see,” Brogan admitted, “and that makes them harder to fight.”
Emma nodded. “And they aren’t going to go away overnight, for either of us.”
“So, what do we do?”
Emma sighed. “We have to trust each other.”
“I do trust you,” Brogan said.
“Then trust that I love you,” Emma said softly, “because I get to decide that.”
Brogan nodded slowly. “Can I be in awe of that even if I believe it?”
“Yes.” Emma kissed her. “Awe is good.”
“Can you do the same for me?”
“Stand in awe of you?” Emma grinned. “That could be arranged.”
“Good, but I actually meant could you believe I see you? Believe I know who you are, and that I love you, too?”
Emma’s heart did a little happy dance in her chest, but tears sprung to her eyes. “Yes, and I see what you mean about the awe of surrendering to that.”
“Feels better than the fear, doesn’t it?”
Emma nodded. “Much. I’m sorry I couldn’t work around to that sooner.”
“Me, too,” Brogan said, “but let’s try to add guilt to the list of things we’re letting go of. No more apologizing. We can’t undo our past, not with other people, and not with each other.”
“See, that’s such a Brogan thing to say.” Emma kissed her again. “But yes, I’m trying to pack guilt away right now, so I’ll confess there’s one thing I’m not sorry for.”
“What’s that?”
“I am not sorry that none of the other women ever realized what a treasure they’d found in you, because I crossed an ocean to find you and claim you for myself.”
Brogan smiled brightly. “Just like the pirate woman in your story.”
“Similar concept, but when my pirate finds her treasure, the story’s over. For me, finding you is only the beginning of my big adventure.”
Epilogue
“Emma,” Reggie called as she burst through the door so hard it hit the stone wall of the Raven with a loud crack. “I’m a pirate.”
“Girls can’t be pirates,” Seamus shouted as he ran past.
“Yes they can.” About seven women swooped down on him in unison, but Emma turned to Reggie, who stood proudly in the doorway, hand on her hips, wooden sword at her side and her unruly hair falling down over an eye patch.
Emma beamed at the girl, tousling her red curls affectionately and effused, “You are, and you look proper rakish.”
Reggie puffed out her chest with pride. “Can I read your new book, then?”
“No,” her mother called from across the room. “We’ve been through this.”
Reggie folded her arms across her chest and stuck out her bottom lip, but Emma turned to Brogan and smiled.
Brogan froze, her heart expanding slowly in her chest until it pressed against her ribs. It’d been a year since the first time Emma had looked at her like that, her eyes dancing, her lips curled, her entire expression directed at her and only her. Clearly, Brogan hadn’t grown immune to the connection, though, because as the seconds stretched on, Emma finally said, “Ahem.”
She frowned, vaguely aware she should remember something.
“The gift,” Emma whispered, and nodded toward the booth.
“Oh yeah.” Brogan shook herself out of the schmoopy love stupor and grabbed a stack of books from the bench. “Here you go, kiddo.”
Reggie uncrossed her arms and accepted the peace offering.
“There are six books about a redheaded pirate girl.”
“Pippi Longstocking?” Reggie asked, her eyes lighting up.
“And while they are smaller than my book on their own, when you add them all together, you have more pirate words there than even I wrote. Hopefully it’ll hold you over for a while.”
“Until I’m old enough to read yours?”
Emma laughed. “Maybe not that long, but I promise Aunt Brogan and I will keep you stocked in adventure stories for as long as you want to read them.”
Reggie didn’t respond verbally. She simply threw her arms around Emma’s waist and squeezed.
“What about me?” Seamus called as he ran by, chasing Wendell, or maybe it was the other way around.
“You, too,” Emma called. “Books all around.”
“Someone’s vying to be the favorite aunt,” Charlie called. “You better watch your back, Nora.”
“She can have the title until they have bairns of their own. Then we get to spoil them and send ’em home.” Nora lifted baby Maggie to her shoulder and cooed at her daughter, “Isn’t that right, Mags? Auntie Emma will learn all these things when it’s her turn.”
“Thanks, Aunt Emma.” Reggie released her and ran off, calling for her cousins, and the rest of the adults in the room resumed their normal conversations, but Emma stayed still, as if rooted to her spot near a table full of her books.
Brogan grinned, slipping her arm around Emma’s shoulder, and pulled her close enough to kiss her temple. “Doing okay?”
“Aye.” She nodded slowly. “Did I just get upgraded to ‘Aunt Emma’?”
“I think you did. How do you feel about that?”
“Good,” Emma squeaked, then met Brogan’s eyes, tears shimmering in her own. “Really good.”
“And the part about us having kids of our own? That sort of got dumped on us.”
Emma laughed. “No, that’s good, too. You’d be adorable pregnant.”
“Me?” Brogan started to pull away, but Emma hooked a finger through her belt loop and tugged her close again. “Don’t worry. We’ve got plenty of time to work out the details of my next full English adventure.”
Then she kissed her, a light, teasing kiss as playful as her tone.
“Hey now,” Charlie called from the corner. “We get it. You’re happy together. No need to rub it in.”
“Hear, hear,” someone called from a table to the side, and Brogan noticed Lady Victoria had taken a break from her conversation with Diane and Esther. Brogan still hadn’t got used to seeing her in the pub or joining them on the boat, but she had to admit, Victoria was much more than her title might suggest, genuine, fun, and with a self-effacing sense of humor that was hard to keep at arm’s length. Plus, she’d been a good friend to Emma and seemed to enjoy being included in normal village life. “Charlie and I are united in our membership of the Singleton Club. I’m sure Singleton Awareness Week is coming up.”
“You should issue a formal decree,” Charlie said. “Maybe host a fundraiser or speed-dating pool to raise awareness.”
“Perhaps public funding for matchmaker services,” Victoria added.
“Don’t say that too loud,” Tom grumbled. “My wife will start to get ideas.”
“Ideas that worked out pretty well,” Diane shot back with a nod toward Brogan and Emma.
“You can’t take credit for them,” he groused. “We did more to muck it up than make it work. Don’t start down that road again.”
“Oh no, please do,” Lady Victoria said, turning to the group of women who’d been attached to her hip since she’d walked in. “Tell me all your secrets.”
“We’d be happy to,” Esther said. “Now that you’re coming down to visit more often, maybe we could also give you a quick tour of the village.”
“Or how about we eat?” Margaret called from the dining room.
A chorus of voices called, “Eat! Yes! Let’s go.”
Chairs scraped against the wooden floor as half the town rose and wandered into the next room, but Brogan and Emma stayed behind.
“You know they’re going to want you to read to them next, right?” Brogan asked.
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