by C. R. Ellis
My words flipped a switch of desire in his eyes, and he swallowed slowly, like he was picturing what exactly I had in mind to calm those nerves. He shifted in his seat and mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like never turning down sex with this woman again.
I didn’t even try to hide my smirk.
“Christ. You’re like a beautiful, brilliant, pint-sized master of torture.”
“It’s a talent, what can I say?”
Our food came, and mouth-watering, buttery garlic goodness was placed in front of me. I twirled a forkful of linguine around and stabbed a shrimp before bringing my fork to my mouth, stifling a moan when the pasta hit my tongue. Is there anything better than shrimp, scallops, and crab mixed with a creamy, buttery garlic sauce on a bed of linguine?
A glance at Emmett, and the dramatic rise and fall of his chest told me the moan might not have been held back after all. Oops.
“What? You should try this, Emmett,” I suggested, twirling another mass of pasta around my fork. “This might actually be better than sex.”
When he didn’t respond to my comment after a few seconds, I looked up and was met by a fierce, narrow-eyed scowl on Emmett’s face. I froze, my hand stopping mid-twirl. He looked like he was ready to prove me wrong. “That sounded like a challenge, and you need to know I’m already close to saying fuck it to the rest of the night I had planned so we can get back to your place. And, as tempting as that option is, I want to give you the rest of tonight. So, please, for Christ’s sake, Jade, stop torturing me,” he pleaded, leaning forward and dropping his elbows onto the table. “Unless you’d like me to make you reevaluate your statement right now.”
My mouth gaped. Then closed. Then gaped again.
I nodded slowly, staring at him with wide, hungry eyes, and a familiar heat in my cheeks. “Uh, okay. Got it,” I squeaked, biting my lip. “Maybe we cou—”
“Jade,” he grated as creases lined his forehead and his eyes echoed the warning tone in his voice.
I nodded, blinking rapidly and re-biting my lip.
“Wanna hear a joke?” I needed to change the subject, but I hadn’t thought it through until the words were coming out of my mouth. Great, this isn’t destined for failure or anything.
His lips twitched into a soft smile, and his eyes lost the heat of the glare he'd just shot me. He reached for his water glass and took a healthy gulp before nodding. “Sure, pretty girl.”
“Why didn’t the skeleton go to his prom?”
He shrugged. “Why?”
“Because he had no body to go with!”
Emmett groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “Wow. That might be the worst joke I’ve ever heard.”
I ignored his comment and went for number two. “What do you call a boring t-rex?”
He grimaced, probably because he knew where the joke was going. “What?”
“A dinosnore!”
A smile cracked through as his head shook back and forth. “I stand corrected. That was the worst joke I’ve heard, at least in the last twenty years. You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he teased with a smirk too sexy for his own good. I wanted to be insulted, but my mouth betrayed me and lifted into a grin.
I blamed the dimples.
This continued for a few minutes as I shared more jokes I’d learned from a client’s nine-year-old son a few weeks ago. Eventually Emmett joined in, sharing jokes indisputably better than mine.
I thought there was no way my night could possibly get better, but when Emmett pulled up to the second part of our date, I was proven wrong. He’d brought me to a drive-in movie theater just outside the city.
I never knew this place existed, but it was almost an exact replica of the theater I’d frequented as a kid—wide open, dusty lot with rows of cars, a concession stand, and a massive screen situated in front of a quickly setting sun. Frozen in my seat, I stared at Emmett’s profile in complete shock. Would he ever stop being so incredible? Doubtful. Knowing I’d get to find out firsthand made my toes curl and my lips split into a perma-smile.
“How did you know?” I finally asked after he’d shifted back into gear and eased the truck forward to find a spot in the lot.
“That day on the lake, I asked you about your happiest childhood memories, and you told me a lot of them included coming to the drive-in with your family and then as a teenager with Jasmine when they’d show double features of scary movies. Wanted to share that with you,” he explained, killing the engine and turning to face me. “When I found out they’re having a James Bond marathon this week, I knew I had to bring you tonight.”
I didn’t even remember telling him about going to the drive-in as a kid, but his thoughtfulness brought me to tears for what had to be the millionth time today. My lip quivered as Emmett leaned over the center console and brought his hands to cup my cheeks and catch my tears before pressing his lips to mine.
“This is the sweetest, most thoughtful gesture, Emmett,” I sobbed against his lips, throwing my arms around his neck and holding tight.
Emmett pulled back just enough to lock our eyes and brush tear-soaked strands of hair out of my face. “Jade, I wanna spend each day trying to give you the same happiness you’ve given me every minute of every day since we first met. You’ve lit my world up with your warmth and light, and you’ve made me see past my own darkness. I’ll spend the rest of my days doing everything I can to give that light back to you. I don’t care if it’s too fast to feel this way, if it’s too much too soon; I told you I wasn’t letting you go again.”
His arms moved down to grip my waist, squeezing there just enough to reiterate his promise. I twisted locks of blonde around my fingers and dropped my forehead to his.
“Not too soon,” I murmured against his lips. “I love you, Emmett Joseph Sinclair, and I will spend the rest of my days showing you your own light.”
He sucked in a breath and let his eyes fall closed for a second before responding. “And I love you, pretty girl. So much.” He brushed his nose along mine before planting a kiss on my lips.
“That first night, I asked why you even wanted to talk to me. Do you remember your answer? You said asking you that was like asking why the stars chase the sun. At the time, I didn’t dwell on those words too much. But then I thought about it, and I realized you’re the stars and I’m the sun, the light you’re chasing.”
He smiled. “Stars live in the darkness, and the sun burns bright and lights up everything in its path.”
I swallowed then cleared my throat and made sure his eyes were on mine by cupping his cheeks and skimming my thumb along the spot where his dimples hid. “That’s the thing, Boston. Stars live in the darkness, but you’re forgetting stars light up the night sky with their own brightness. So, you are the stars, but not because you belong in the dark. You’re the stars because, even surrounded by darkness, your light doesn’t falter, and you shine it on everything around you.”
Emmett had darkness in his life, yes. But, no matter what it was—the shit with his family, the guilt of what happened with Tracy, misplaced guilt for what Will did to me in New York—he needed to know it wasn’t his darkness. He was good and true and light. I’d tell him a thousand times if that’s what it took for him to believe it.
His hand wove through my hair until he cradled my head at the base of my skull, and his other hand gripped the base of my neck, holding me in place against his forehead. His chest heaved on a deep inhale. “You’re never gonna let me stay in the dark, are you?”
I shook my head. “Never.”
“You’re up early,” I called, blinking against soft light leaking in through the sheer curtains. The rhythmic sound of my ceiling fan thrumming softly overhead caught my attention, but only momentarily. Emmett was shirtless, sitting across the room in my turquoise chaise lounge with his laptop open, fiercely concentrating on whatever was on the screen.
I half-wished I’d realized what a vision he was before opening my mouth. I could’ve watched him for hours. E
arly morning Emmett was my favorite.
His head whipped up at the sound of my voice, and he quickly closed the laptop and pushed off the chair. “Wanted to get a little work done while it was on my mind,” he responded, slipping back into bed next to me. “Good morning, gorgeous,” he murmured, lips skimming the outer edge of my ear.
“Morning,” I replied, weaving my arms around his torso.
Emmett rolled from his side to his back and pulled me with him, securing my body against his chest. His fingers toyed with the strands of my crazy bedhead hair as his lips peppered my forehead with kisses. “You sleep okay?”
“Best I’ve slept in the last ten days. You?”
“I missed getting to hear you mumble in your sleep while I was away. The words you gave me last night were worth the wait though.”
“Not again,” I groaned, slapping a hand over my eyes.
Emmett’s chest shook with a low rumble of laughter. “I love everything you do and say with this mouth, Tiny. Especially the things you tell me in your sleep.”
“Spill, Sinclair. What embarrassing stories did you get outta me?”
“You told me you’d loved me all along, and I feel like home to you.”
“You know; they say you shouldn’t hold people accountable for their sleep-talking confessions.”
“Oh, yeah? Who is ‘they’?”
I shrugged noncommittally, dodging his amused stare and fighting a smile. “Yep. You know…people out there. I mean, I’m sure someone says it. Totally a thing people say.”
Emmett laughed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Now I know you were actually telling the truth.”
I bit my lip to contain the smile threatening to betray me completely. “How?”
“You ramble when you’re nervous. It’s adorable,” he called, trailing a line of slow-burning kisses along the hollow of my neck.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I croaked. My voice was weak and extra-throaty, a consequence of having his body hovering inches above mine.
The sensation of his lips against my skin made it difficult to focus on the words he was saying. Those lips were a sweet reminder of last night, how he’d completely unraveled me with just his mouth. Emmett was all too aware of how he affected me, and he wasn’t above using it to his advantage; each kiss he planted lingered a little longer than the last, rendering me breathless and compliant. Desperate for an encore performance.
“Oh, yeah?” I felt the twist in his lips against my throat before he leaned back to shoot me a wink. Those dimples taunted me, erasing any other form of protest waiting on my tongue.
His bright eyes burned into me with the intensity of a crashing wave, pulling me under his riptide. One of these days he was going to drown me in the depths of those ocean blues. But what a way to go.
I paused, chewing on my lip and pulling in a breath to steady my erratic heart rate. “You’ve always felt like home, Emmett,” I admitted, tracing my fingertips over his chest and up the slant of his smooth neck. My eyes followed the path of my fingertips until I was met by searing blue pools filled with so much love I felt it in my bones.
“Those words…” he trailed off as his head dipped, shaking in disbelief before lifting up to reveal my favorite smile. “You’re killing me, Jade. I’ll never be able to live a life without this, without you.” He eased his body down over mine until some of his weight pressed into me.
I tilted my head so my lips grazed his ear, curled my hands around his neck, and whispered, “Then it’s a good thing you’ll never have to.”
His lips seared kisses along my jaw. “What time do you have to be at work?”
“First meeting’s at ten. Why, what’d you have in mind?” I trailed my hands down his chest, over the carved muscles of his abs. My God, this body is a work of art.
He smirked, eyes heated and telling me he knew exactly where I wanted this to go. “I need to talk to you about some things, but it can wait until later.” Before I could protest, he started tugging up the hem of the gray Red Sox shirt I stole from him, and dropping his mouth and attention to my chest after freeing my breasts.
“You sure?” I asked, my hands completely stopping just as they dipped beneath the band of his boxers because I knew what things he was talking about.
He cut his eyes up to me and shifted on his elbows so I could feel his growing need. Then he dipped his head down to capture one breast with his mouth while tugging on the other. “Positive,” he mumbled against me, a burst of heated breath warming my skin. “God, Jade. Your tits are fucking phenomenal,” he drawled through labored breaths as his fingers pulled and squeezed my nipple.
I immediately started panting and lost track of where my hands were supposed to be going. Another shift of his body, and his hips pressed against mine, letting me know exactly where he wanted my hands, spurring me into action. I gripped his impressive length, stroking as I angled one foot up to help pull down his boxers. Once freed, I had easier access and circled the head with my thumb while lifting my hips to grind up against him, ensuring he could feel how wet I was through the fabric of my panties, how incredibly desperate he made me feel.
A groan of approval rumbled from his chest as he continued to suck and knead my breasts, splitting his attention equally between them. “Jesus. So fucking good,” he moaned, pulling back enough to rip the shirt over my head. As soon as it left his possession, he scooted down my body, focusing his attention on the thin material of my panties. He began tugging them down my legs, only this time his fingers moved slowly, like he had all the time in the world.
“Emmett,” I begged, chest heaving and fingers digging into the muscles of his back. His eyes met mine and softened. “Please.”
I expected him to make me spell it out, to make me work for it more before finally fulfilling my desire, but he didn’t. He finished stripping off my panties and slowly traveled back up my body, pressing kisses every few inches, starting with the inside of my thighs. The trail of kisses he left set my skin on fire and had my hands gripping the sheet beside me.
By the time his kisses reached my neck, and then my mouth, I was a mess of liquid limbs and labored breaths. Emmett’s lips weren’t just searing into my skin; they were planting promises over every part of my body.
The promise he’d keep me safe.
The promise he’d give me all his truths.
The promise he loved me.
The promise of forever.
“I could spend hours just loving you with my lips. I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to feel this way, to find you,” he murmured, giving me one last kiss before gently pushing into me.
I gasped, loving his words and his movements equally.
The rhythm Emmett set with his hips was different from before, different from anything I’d ever felt. This was slower and sweeter; a continuation of the promises he made with his lips. As he rocked into me, letting the tempo dictate a slow burn up my spine as my impending climax neared, I couldn’t help but wonder how it was possible my love for him continued to grow. Each time I thought maybe I’d finally gotten a handle on the way my heart seemed to beat only for this man, he’d make me fall even harder.
Chapter 23
Emmett
Jade sat, eyes trained on the screen of my laptop, devouring every word there. I kept my promise to fill her in on the plan for stopping William and told her everything as soon as she walked in the door of her apartment. I didn’t even give her the chance to put her things down before I rushed at her, giving her the biggest, most important truth since I told her I loved her.
My plan for foiling William’s campaign came together quickly. I reached out to Curtis Long, and we ended up coming to a mutually beneficial agreement. In exchange for leaving Hope out of the story completely, I gave him insight into my life growing up under Senator William Sinclair’s roof. Our initial meeting was supposed to be about outlining the piece he’d write, but I ended up talking for hours, exposing my father as
the unstable, mentally-and-occasionally-physically abusive monster he’d always been behind closed doors.
The next time we met, I used childhood journals I’d secretly kept to recount some of the worst experiences from my adolescence; most of which John and Emily didn’t even know.
I held nothing back.
I told him about the times William forced my brother and me to compete, to fight each other for what felt like hours, to determine which one of us would be allowed to eat dinner. The reason we were even able to fight for any amount of time was because our father had also forced us to learn how to box. To the outsider, he looked like a father encouraging his sons to learn a popular sport, when in reality, it was just another way for William to manipulate us.
I described the time he used the heel of my foot as an ashtray – my punishment for not being convincing enough when a reporter asked if I was happy my father had won a big case. I was nine years old.
I talked about the time when my mother sat, calmly flipping through a home and garden magazine, as her husband instructed her sons to play quarters—a game in which we flicked a quarter as hard as possible at each other’s fists across a table, purposefully bloodying knuckles—until one of us quit and had to polish every piece of silver in the house while the other was rewarded with a new gaming console.
There were more instances, some as clear-cut as William losing his temper and cursing, belittling Will or me for something trivial like leaving shoes in the entryway, to the rarer, more severe examples when he’d make things physical.
The details were there, either transcribed from journal entries, or recalled from memories I tried to lock away. John and Emily even contributed, confirming several of the instances mentioned in my journals. Hope had offered to let him write about her too, but I shut that down fast. If Long did his job correctly, he’d paint a damaging enough picture of William that Hope’s identity didn’t need to be brought up.
