Eric doesn’t think, he just reacts. He lifts her up and pulls her out of danger.
“Wait here.”
Once she’s secure, he turns and heads back toward the brawl. Eric wraps his forearm around one of the men’s necks, pulling him away from the other. He has blood all over his face and Eric shouts, “It’s over! Relax, man, it’s over!”
His ability to protect her and end a silly, macho altercation causes Emma’s already boiling lust to overflow. He marches toward her. His shirt is torn and he’s out of breath.
“We need to leave before I kill that fucking guy. How bad are you hurt?”
Eric rubs Emma’s collarbone where she caught one of the men’s elbows. It’s sore and she will have a bruise, but her tiny body being caught in the crossfire of those cavemen could have been much worse. Eric takes her hand and walks her to his car with care.
She’s quiet as they sit, parked in her driveway. She wishes he would touch her. She wants to ask him to come inside, but she doesn’t have the nerve, and he doesn’t offer. This is the first night they’ve spent together since they had sex in the backseat of the Jeep, and even though the air is charged with mutual want, they both hesitate. Perhaps it’s fear of rejection, or fear of losing control.
Eric leans in and places a gentle kiss on Emma’s forehead. He touches her bruise. “You should put some ice on that and get some rest.”
Emma nods. “Okay.”
Although she doesn’t want to, Emma subdues her desire. She gets out of the car and does as Eric says.
Once inside his trailer, Eric takes off his torn shirt and changes into nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. He ties the string and they hang on his lean body. He grabs a beer from the fridge, and a book from the shelf. He lies back on the bed and does his best to distract himself from thoughts of Emma and her cotton candy.
He sips the cold ale and reads, then begins to drift off to sleep. His eyes flutter closed and then open. He battles against their heaviness, but at last, he gives in. His book falls against his naked chest with a thud.
He jerks awake when he hears a gentle tapping on the door of his trailer. Groggy, he rises, swings open the door and squints out into the night.
Chapter Twenty
“Who’s there?”
Emma appears, dressed in a tiny, white, eyelet nightgown. She’s beautiful, an angel. Eric wonders if he’s dreaming until she steps into the trailer and touches his chest with greed. She rises up on her toes to whisper in his ear. “Eric, I need it.”
He can’t believe this is happening. He wants her, but he can’t lose control. She leans in and kisses him, but he pulls away. He can’t degrade her again.
“Emma, wait . . .”
“I can’t. I need you. Don’t you want to touch me this way? I can’t stop thinking about you . . . about this. Eric, please . . .”
His effort to resist her crumbles at her words.
Emma unties his sweatpants and they drop to his ankles. He’s naked before her and she slides her hands down below his waist. She touches him as they kiss. His tongue touches hers and he moans. Gripping the back of her thighs, he lifts her up, spins around, and drops her down on his bed. She lies back, expecting him to bombard her, but he doesn’t. Instead, he paces the room, like an animal toying with the impulse to attack its fragile prey. Eric will soon be gone and it will be Stormy who takes her.
But Eric doesn’t want to let his demon win tonight. He wants to take his time, to treat Emma with respect and adoration, instead of just fucking her like he did last time. Eric knows she likes it, she’s here asking for it. It would be so easy to just use her. He has to find a way to meet his need and still remain himself with her. He doesn’t know if it can be done, but he’s sure as hell going to try.
He must exercise restraint to make real pleasure possible for both of them. Inside his bedside drawer is the lone weapon he has to fight against Emma the seductress, and his evil sickness. He descends on her, kisses her, and rubs his body against her soft flesh. He slides her nightgown over her shoulders and then hooks his thumbs under the narrow waistband of her panties, removing them as well. Then he takes her thin wrists in his hand, raises them above her head, and handcuffs her to the bedpost.
Emma’s lost in his touch. When he constricts her roaming hands, she hears a click, and then she can’t move. Emma’s previous sexual experiences, before Eric, have been very tame, but she craves just this. She wants to follow Eric into the perilous depths. They’re both nude, she is bound, and he kneels before her. His lips curl up into a grin, and Emma smiles back.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to make you feel good, Emma.”
He makes that promise a reality as he buries his gorgeous face between her thighs. Emma’s back arches when she feels his sweet mouth, and she’s submerged in the delight of getting what she wants. He works her most sensitive places, pushing her toward ecstasy. She feels her heart convulse in her chest . . .
And then he stops.
Eric leaves her tied up and walks to the fridge. She’s chained, naked, and powerless. All she can do is burn for him. He takes out a beer and opens it, standing naked in the glow from the refrigerator. He walks toward her, gorgeous and erect. He sips the beer and watches her wriggling.
“What are you doing? Why did you stop?” she asks.
“I’m going to take myself to the edge tonight. When I feel I’m losing control, I’m going to have to stop. I want to be myself when I’m with you. I don’t know how else to explain it. This isn’t easy for me.” He pounds half the beer, his eyes roam her exposed body from head to toe as he drinks, and then he gets back in the bed.
“Are you comfortable?” He lies down beside her.
She’s never been more comfortable in her life, except for the burning ache between her legs.
“Yes, I’m fine.” She licks her lips.
He enjoys seeing her this way, so desperate for his touch. He wraps his beer-kissed, cold lips around her breast, and licks until she is firm. He caresses her body, and when he finds her wetness, he slips his fingers inside. She moans and he sucks her nipple harder.
“That feels so good, don’t stop . . .” He’s pleasing her, but she wants to feel him penetrate, to fill her.
He swirls his fingers and teases her with his thumb. Emma whimpers and groans and bucks her hips. He releases her nipple from his lips and then kisses her neck. She needs to feel his lips on hers and is thankful when Eric covers her mouth with his.
The kiss is deep and filled with primal passion. The handcuffs clink against themselves and he chuckles at her desperation. He rubs his hard-on against her thigh and she can feel his wet tip against her skin. She cannot fathom how difficult it is for him to refrain from entering her and fucking her into oblivion. Just when she feels like she won’t be able to stand it if he removes his touch again, he withdraws his hand and his lips.
Eric moves away and lies across the edge of the bed, propped up on his elbow, out of Emma’s reach. He grabs his book and opens it. His erection protrudes from his body, tempting and taunting Emma.
She remains restrained and writhing, tortured by her unsatisfied lust. Some may consider what he’s doing to be cruel, but Emma is enthralled by his control, and her heightened passion.
“Do you like poetry?” he asks her.
“Yes . . . yes . . . I do.” She’s ablaze and he’s fueling her with the view of his body and his sultry words.
Eric finds his power over her arousing. “Oh, you do, do you? I was reading just before you came over. Just before I took off your clothes . . . and chained you to my bed . . . and tasted you . . . and touched you. Would you like me to read to you right now?”
She is wet and tormented with her fever for him. He’s so sexy, and good, and evil, and hot, and sweet. She’s damp with sweat, and handcuffed to his bed, and aching to feel him inside her . . . and instead of fucking her and making her come, he wants to read her a poem. If this is his way of keeping hims
elf together, she will abide.
“Yes, Eric. Please, read to me.”
He smiles, and his tongue darts out to moisten his lips. She watches his chest move as he breathes and reads:
“I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.
You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.
Oh plunge me deep in love—put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.”5
The words slow Emma’s blood and float into her heart. She stares into the stormy blue of Eric’s eyes and her own eyes water with the depth of her need and the overwhelming emotion she feels for him.
He tosses the book and kneels on the bed. Having taken his time, the true test will begin; to remain himself once he is buried inside her will be an enormous feat. He puts on a condom and hovers just above her body, his arms at either side of her head.
“Você é única para mim.”6 He slides his fingers down her arms from where they’re bound, all the way to her ribs.
His touch leaves shimmering trails on her skin and Emma begins to quiver. She cannot stand another moment of this delicious misery. “Please . . .”
His hard cock presses against her wet lips, right at the center of her, right where she aches. He pushes himself inside, and he kisses her at the same instant. He fills her everywhere, and she is greedy. She wants to touch him, but she cannot. He moves inside her in a perfect, even rhythm, and he never breaks the kiss. She wants to scream, but she’s suffocated by his tongue and his body. She’s drowning in him. She luxuriates in the intense feeling of his body pressing into hers in the dim light. She moans against him, and hears a click. He has released her wrists, and she wastes no time. She touches his bristly face, his rippled arms and back, his firm ass that moves against her. Then she grabs his hair and deepens their kiss.
Eric is giving her just what she wants, and he feels every sensation. He relishes her touch, her taste, her smell, and the pleasure she gives him. The deep, dark cavern he usually descends into isn’t there. He kisses her harder, ravenous and unrelenting; he’s dying to consume her. “This is me you’re with, I’m here, I’m with you.”
She bucks against him, and he rises up to watch his cock moving in and out of her. The erotic sight pushes him toward his release. To delay it, he leans back and pulls her body into his lap, and kisses and sucks at her neck and breasts as she rides him. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and lifts her hips off his, setting her rhythm. He groans and grips her ass, then pulls on her hair until her back arches. He adores her breasts, and slides his fingers down to her backside.
“I never want anyone else to touch me. Only you,” she says.
He kisses her, and lays her head on the pillow. Her legs wrap around him, and he thrusts so, so deep inside her.
“Ahh, oh my God . . .” She’s reaching a peak. Something needs to break free. Her skin feels as though it’s humming and when he moans against her chest, she comes so hard she digs her nails into his shoulders.
When he knows she has found her release, Eric grips the headboard and pushes inside her with vigor. The darkness is at bay, but it’s riding up behind him like an avalanche. “Fuck, oh, fuck . . . eu amo ficar assim com você.”7 He pulses against her submissive body.
Grunts and profanity fall from his lips. Emma pulls his face down to hers, and she kisses him as he erupts. Blinded by the rapture, they collapse against each other and the room is quiet. For Emma, this was a soothing relief to a powerful burning ache. It quenched the lust and need that she felt, and still feels for him. Cool water on her raging fire, and yet she still craves more.
For Eric, this was a long awaited blessing, an answered prayer.
Chapter Twenty-One
Emma and Eric lie listening as crickets sing to the moon and to each other. Their limbs are tangled together, her body anchored to his. She wants to stay with him, but she’s afraid he doesn’t want her to. Being intimate isn’t something that comes easy to Eric, but after the way he was with her tonight, she’s beginning to wonder if he wants this to be different.
“Should I leave?” She braces for his answer.
His arm snakes around her and he holds her body to his, kissing the space between her jaw and her ear. His breath tickles her and she giggles.
“Emma, I want you to stay. I want to wake up right here, next to you. Please, don’t leave.”
She closes her eyes, feeling relieved and content after hearing words she hoped he would say. His breathing becomes even against her and she knows he has fallen asleep. She rubs her fingers along his arms, anticipating and dreading their absence. She misses him before he’s even gone.
A white car creeps down Eric and Emma’s street, like a prowler in the night, waiting and watching. It parks on the shoulder of the dirt road and the envious driver lights a cigarette, staring at the silver trailer, wondering what’s going on inside.
“Abby, I have to tell you something, but I need you to keep it between us okay?” Danielle whispers into her phone.
“Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s about Emma. I’m worried about her.”
“Why?”
“I saw her with someone last night.” Danielle waits to hear shock in Abby’s voice, but she doesn’t.
“You mean Eric?”
“Wait. You know him? How do you know him?”
“No, I mean, I’ve never met him, but he’s the guy Emma’s been telling us about. I just know they’re neighbors . . . and that she slept with him.”
“What? Eric is Sexy Neighbor Guy? She had sex with him?”
“Yes, but I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.” Abby winces at her indiscretion.
“Abby, I know him.”
“How?”
“He’s Sean’s best man.” Danielle tucks her phone into the crook of her neck as she whispers and tries not to wake her sleeping fiancé.
“You’re fucking kidding me! That’s crazy. Emma doesn’t know you know him? And Eric doesn’t know that you know Emma?”
“Yes, and there’s something else . . .”
“What?”
“There may be some things Emma doesn’t know about him.”
“Well, she said he was strange.”
“That’s just it. Every time I see him, he looks at me . . . I mean, he knows I’m engaged to his friend, but he still just . . . it’s creepy, Abby. He looks at me like he wants me.”
“Are you sure you’re not imagining that?”
“I’m not. And that’s not all. Sean told me that Eric got into trouble with the last couple he worked for—he had an affair with the wife of some wealthy man. The man tried to kill him. Eric barely got away. That’s why he moved here. I’m worried for Emma—she’s had enough shit in her life. I feel like we need to warn her about this guy. I can’t just stand by and let her get hurt.”
“You do realize that she’s an adult, right?” Abby doubts smitten Emma will be convinced Eric is wrong for her.
“Yes, but she’s also our friend. We can’t just sit back and let this happen. What if we set her up with someone? Eric’s not her boyfriend, right?”
“She’s still married, you know, Danni. I don’t think she considers what they’re doing to be a relationship . . . or maybe it’s just Eric who feels that way.”
“Does Jeff have any hot friends?”
“Actually, he does. There’s this guy, Ian, that he hangs out with sometimes. He’s single and he’s not bad looking. Kind of arrogant, but most of his lawyer friends are.”
“Well, I’ll just invite him to the engagement party and seat him next to Emma. There’s no harm in that, right?”
“No . . .” Abby hesita
tes.
“What?”
“I don’t know. Forget it.”
“Come on, Abby. What is it?”
“Maybe we shouldn’t try to interfere. I think Eric is making her happy. It’s not our place to get involved. She could have a future with this guy.”
“No. She can’t, Abby. He told us he’s not planning to stay in Pine Lake.”
“What?”
“He’s using her. He’s gonna build that house, sell it, and move on. That’s what he does. He builds, and sells, and fucks up lives!”
“He’s going to break Emma’s heart . . .”
“Yes.” Danielle answers. “He is.”
Lost in soft warmth and sunshine, Emma opens her eyes and runs her hand along the bed where Eric should be, but is not.
She sits up in a panic. “Eric?”
No answer.
She leaves the empty bed with his sheet held over her breasts and she peers out the window of his trailer. His Jeep is gone. She shakes her head from side to side and scans Eric’s small living space. He left no note.
There must be an explanation, but the devastation she felt the morning that Aaron left her creeps like a shadow across her heart. Being abandoned is a trauma she can’t live through again. She panics, dresses, and runs up the path and across her yard in nothing but her nightgown. Every movement reminds her of last night, her muscles sore from their tryst. She hears her phone ringing and bolts into the kitchen to pick it up.
“Eric?”
“No. It’s Danielle.”
“Oh, hey. What’s up? How are you?”
“I’m fine. I saw you at the carnival last night.”
“You did? I didn’t see you.” Emma would rather not be having this inane conversation right now. She wants to know where Eric went.
“I saw that you were with someone and I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Yes, that’s Eric, my . . . neighbor,” Emma says delicately.
“Emma, I have to tell you something . . .”
The Righteous and The Wicked Page 14
