* * * *
Emily gazed out the window as they drove on toward his parents’ house. Snowflakes swirled in the headlights of oncoming cars and glittered on the surface of the road. Christmas lights shone from many of the houses they passed. Whether the displays were simple or elaborate didn’t matter; all of them were made more beautiful by the falling snow. If Janice hadn’t told her about their mother’s episode with Alan, this would’ve been one of the happiest times of her life—perhaps the happiest of all.
Moments before, she’d come very close to telling him about Janice’s revelation. She longed to forget the whole thing—or to pretend it never happened, which was probably how Alan and her mother would deal with the situation. Unfortunately, she knew the truth, and he needed to know that she knew, regardless of the cost. She couldn’t help believing that once he realized who her mother was, that knowledge would stand like a barrier between them, cutting them off from everything they loved about each other.
Her parents wouldn’t be home until the twenty-eighth. She had four days to either tell him or sit back and let him find out the hard way.
In another place and time, she would take his hand, tell him what she’d learned, and swear she loved him anyway.
She’d already said that. At least, she thought she had. This indecisiveness was a curse. Should she ruin the evening by telling him now? Or should she allow herself four more days to fall even more deeply in love with him before it all fell apart?
Remember that nice lady who made you swear off sex? Her name was Vivian Stewart, right? Well, guess what? She’s my mother.
She could never say it. She reminded herself that Alan was fragile—at least, in his cousin’s opinion—and she tended to agree with that assessment. She knew how women had treated him in the past. She couldn’t blame him for asking her to promise him the very thing he’d asked of her.
“Don’t leave me without saying goodbye.”
She doubted that Carol had truly loved Alan, although loving him might explain why she couldn’t say goodbye to his face. Emily would have a hard time doing that herself.
All too soon, they arrived at his parents’ house. Alan took her hand and helped her out of the Jeep, then led her into the warmth where candles glowed and the air was thick with the scents of turkey, sage, and cinnamon. The house was filled with smiling faces and gentle voices—so unlike the recent gatherings of her own family. She saw Alan’s eyes when she was introduced to his mother—a pretty, gray-haired woman who seemed to have a special smile reserved for her son.
This was where Alan had come from. Not an abusive, broken home, but a happy, loving family. He hadn’t suffered some childhood trauma that made him so needy. Nor was he an alien. He was simply a man whose desires were more pronounced than those of other men. There was no rhyme or reason to why he was that way. He simply was.
Soon, she was laughing along with the rest of them and enjoying the meal while catching glimpses of Alan smiling at her in a way that promised even greater delights later on. Unfortunately, lodged somewhere in the back of her mind were thoughts that placed limits on her enjoyment, coupled with the suspicion that if things didn’t go well, she might never see these people again. Might never see Alan’s niece and nephew grow up, finish high school, and go off to college. That idea paralyzed her, leaving her far more subdued than she should’ve been.
She didn’t drink any of the wine, imaging all sorts of horrific outcomes if alcohol were to loosen her tongue. What a scene that would be! Taking Alan aside— No, if she’d been as drunk as she wanted to be, she would’ve blurted it out right there at the dinner table—or worse, while they sat by the tree in the living room to open their gifts.
A crackling fire burned in the fireplace, and Alan had even brought chestnuts to roast on the hearth. Emily couldn’t imagine a more perfect Christmas Eve, and yet she couldn’t fully enjoy it because she was afraid it would never be repeated—that she didn’t belong there among them and never would.
All because of something she didn’t do and over which she had absolutely no control.
The determination she’d felt while talking to Janice was failing her now. She’d put on a brave front, but the strain of maintaining it taxed her strength. Hopefully, Alan would assume she was nervous or simply tired—both of which were true.
When they left the party at about ten-thirty, she and Alan tried to have a snowball fight as they dusted off the Jeep. Unfortunately, the snow was too powdery to hold together.
“It’s too cold for a snowball fight, anyway,” he said. “Besides, I’ve got to get you home before Santa comes.” His wink and accompanying grin smote her heart.
Smote. There was no other word to describe the feeling.
She forced out a laugh. “What? You mean Santa hasn’t already come several times today?”
Chuckling, he opened the passenger door and helped her up. “Not as many times as you might think. But don’t worry. He’ll make up for it when we get home.”
Home. He’d called her house home.
Oh, God. She blinked back tears as he climbed in on the other side.
“So, did you have a good time?”
“I had a wonderful time,” she replied. “Your family is all so friendly.”
“Yeah. Hard to imagine they’d be that nice after you’ve been around me for a while.”
“Not really. You’re one of the sweetest men I’ve ever met.”
Clearing his throat, he started the engine. “I’m glad you think so.”
At the moment, Emily was just happy to be able to carry on a conversation without falling apart. Even so, she felt the need to change the subject. “This is the perfect kind of snow for Christmas Eve. Not enough to cause any problems, but enough to make everything sparkle.”
His gaze slid sideways to encompass her as he backed the car out of the drive. “Not that you need snow to make you sparkle.”
“See? You really are a sweetie. Nobody’s ever said stuff like that to me before.”
“Can’t say I’m sorry about that,” he admitted. “Makes me sound better in comparison.”
She attempted another chuckle. “You’re better even without the comparison.”
Simply the best. Those words made her recall the next line of that song… Better than all the rest.
Which was true—and would make him that much harder to give up.
But I’m not going to give him up. The words to another song ran through her mind— All I ever wanted…was you.
He truly was everything she’d ever wanted—or dreamed of—and then some.
No. Come hell or high water, she wasn’t giving him up. Not without a knockdown-drag-out fight. Janice and her sanctimonious attitude could go suck a fuckin’ egg.
Emily had sleepwalked her way through a perfectly delightful evening. Tomorrow would be different. She would have fun with Travis and his family, and she would even enjoy Janice’s party. She didn’t blame her mother for anything she’d done, and she stood by her original belief that Vivian had been the best thing that could’ve happened to Alan.
Mainly because it left him free for Emily to discover.
Finders, keepers.
Chapter 26
By the time they reached Emily’s front door, Alan was beginning to believe he’d imagined her peculiar mood. Maybe she wasn’t hiding anything after all. He almost had himself convinced until he recalled what she’d said about working out unexpected problems. Was that a generalization or did she mean something more specific?
If it was something specific, he had a pretty good idea what it was. Pemberton wasn’t exactly a large city. Anytime they were out and about, they stood a good chance of running into some of his previous—
He wasn’t even sure how to refer to them. Women? Lovers? Liaisons? Flings? Funny thing was, he’d rarely encountered any of them again himself—possibly because they made a point of avoiding him. Except Vivian. He still saw her at the store now and then.
Emily couldn’t say
she hadn’t been warned. He’d been honest with her on that issue right from the start. Still, it was always awkward meeting your current flame’s former lovers. She had a few of them herself, including an ex-husband. He might have her beat numbers-wise, but at least he didn’t have an ex-wife to spring on her.
Unlocking the door, she pushed it open and waved him inside. “Guess I’d better have a key made for you, huh?”
Alan stood on the porch, momentarily stunned. Had anyone ever given him a key? He’d given out a few of his own, but he couldn’t recall that anyone had ever returned the favor. “Sounds good.”
Emily obviously didn’t understand the full significance of her offer. She strolled through the living room, stripping off her coat and kicking off her shoes. “I have got to get into some warmer shoes. My feet are freezing.”
He set the stack of presents on the kitchen table. “I should let you wear those socks my mother gave me.” Opening the box, he read the label aloud. “Irish Cottage Socks…specially blended to keep your feet warm in winter and cool in summer. They do look pretty comfy.”
She giggled. “I guess your mother doesn’t realize you hang around naked most of the time.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t wear socks.” With a wink, he added, “And I could always wear them on my dick.”
“True.”
“And speaking of my dick—and your feet—I think they both need some attention. I would’ve added this to your present this evening, but I didn’t want to get anything started I couldn’t finish.” He’d already given her the bottle of wine and the chocolate truffles, but he’d also loaded up on various lotions and oils from the personal care section of the grocery.
“My feet and your dick?” She seemed a bit doubtful. “Really? You’ve got something that works on both? I’m almost afraid to ask what it is.”
He dug through the bags he’d brought home until he finally found the right one. “Actually, there’s all kinds of stuff in here, including a massage oil laced with some kind of Chinese herbs that does wonders for your circulation.”
“Sounds nice, but I’m not sure your dick needs any help in that department.”
“Probably not.” He handed her the bag. “Merry Christmas.”
She reached into the bag and pulled out the bottle of massage oil. “So, what? I jack you off while you massage my feet?”
“You can if you want, but I was planning to work on you first, if that’s okay.”
“Hey, if you can warm up my feet, I’m all for it.”
“Great. Just need to get some pillows and blankets real quick. Be right back.” He went to the bedroom and got as much bedding as he could carry, then brought it back out to the living room and spread it out on the floor.
“Ooh! A massage under the Christmas tree! Santa has never been this good to me before.”
“Santa is gonna do stuff to you tonight you never even dreamed of, sweetheart. I’ve been thinking about this all afternoon. All you have to do is get naked and lie down.”
Alan made quick work of his own clothing while she stripped off her slacks and sweater. His cock twitched as she removed her bra and panties.
She wrapped her arms over her chest, shivering. “I don’t know how you stand being naked all the time. I’m freezing.”
“Don’t worry. I brought an extra blanket for you to cover up with—although I’d almost guarantee you won’t need it.” He let his gaze drift over her, loving the sensuous curve of her hips, the fullness of her breasts, and the way her hair kissed her shoulders. “Keeping you warm is one of my jobs.”
“And you take your work seriously, don’t you?”
“I certainly do.” He nodded at the bed he’d made on the floor. “Lie down and I’ll cover you up.” Preferring to be able to see all of her, he hated to do that, but right now her comfort was more important than his own desires. Even draping her with a blanket didn’t stop her from being beautiful. He sat back on his heels, drinking in the vision of Emily stretched out before him. The lights from the tree cast dappled colors on her face and hair and sparkled in her eyes. “Comfy?”
“Very, but this makes me wish I had a fireplace like the one your parents have. That way I wouldn’t need the blanket.”
“Guess we’ll have to make our own kind of fire.”
“Go for it.”
He squirted the oil on his palm and rubbed his hands together.
“Mmm…” She moaned as he took her foot in his hands. “Nice and warm.”
With a steady, rhythmic pace he caressed her foot, occasionally gliding up her leg. Adding more oil, he switched over to her other foot, watching her face as her eyes drifted shut and her lips curved into a blissful smile. Closing his own eyes, he focused on the feelings, rather than the visual—the smoothness of her skin, the soft warmth of her body, the scent of the oil, the soft sound of her breathing. Although his cock ached to be inside her, he did his best to ignore it, keeping his movements relaxed, controlled, and soothing.
Her feet were quite warm by the time he finished, but he covered them anyway, then pushed the blanket back to expose one leg. Working the muscles in her thigh, he let his fingers come close enough to her pussy to tease before sliding back toward her knee.
Having done her other leg, he nudged her thighs apart and lay between them, burying his face in her sex. Her pussy was wet and delicious, and he dove in deeper, fucking her with his tongue. A swift, upward glance caught her watching him, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire, a sensuous smile curving her lips. Apparently, she enjoyed watching him lick her pussy as much as he liked to watch her sucking his dick.
She smoothed a hand over his head, threading her fingers through his hair to gently massage his scalp. “You like doing that, don’t you?”
“I certainly do. You taste better than candy.” He continued licking her until her moans escalated to gasps.
She’s almost there…
Rolling her over, he straddled her thighs, tucking his dick between them. Kneading her butt and lower back, he teased her clit with his cock, sliding it back and forth between her pussy lips. He wasn’t going to last much longer, but that was okay. His orgasms were incidental. Hers were the ones that mattered. Gripping her hips, he wiggled his ass, thrusting his dick more firmly over her clit—harder, faster.
He let out a yell as his cock erupted, bathing her pussy with cum, but he never stopped until her own climax curled her body into an arc and forced her hips up from the floor. Pulling her onto her knees, he thrust into her hot cunt, her high-pitched cries informing him he’d found her sweet spot. Reaching for the bag of goodies on the floor beside him, he selected the jar of warming gel and scooped out a dollop, then applied it to her anus. Still massaging her ass with one hand, he teased her hole with his fingertip, eventually working two fingers in as far as he could reach.
“Good?”
With a sob, she nodded her reply. Moments later, she came so hard even Alan saw stars.
As his next climax began to build, he waited until he’d reached the point of no return and pulled out, plugging her anus with his cockhead while he pumped her full of cream. Adding more of the gel, he slid into her ass the rest of the way. She’d liked it when he’d done that before, but this time, she made sounds he’d never even heard before.
“Still okay?”
“Yes!” It was more of a yelp than a word, but he figured she meant it in a good way—especially when she added something that sounded like “Don’t stop.”
The mere thought of fucking her ass already had his dick raring to go, but the warming gel practically set it on fire. Despite his intention to take it slow, pretty soon he was pounding into her fast and deep, her sobs and whimpers spurring him on. By the time he creamed her ass once again, she was quivering like a mass of over-excited nerve endings.
Withdrawing carefully, he wiped her off with a towel and covered her up with the blanket before heading to the bathroom to wash up. He wasn’t finished with her yet.
Not by a long
shot.
For a few moments, Emily would’ve been hard-pressed to remember her own name, let alone where she was. All she knew was that she’d been hanging in space somewhere between nirvana and heaven until that last ejaculation sent her spinning off into oblivion.
Wow.
She’d barely recovered her senses when warm hands turned her onto her back and began to massage her face, arms, and chest. If there’d been one iota of stress left in her body, it was gone now. She felt more like an empty sack than a human being.
Until he put some of that gel on her nipples.
“Getting hot?” he asked.
All she could do was nod as he circled the sensitive buds with his fingertips. The heat gave way to a tingling sensation as her flesh swelled in response to his teasing.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” His voice was deep and husky with a slight purr to it.
She felt like purring herself. “Mmm…yeah.”
His hands slid from her chest across her stomach to her thighs. He was between her legs again. She held her breath.
“And this will feel even better.”
The gel was cold on her clitoris, but his gentle massage warmed it up almost instantly.
Opening her eyes, she met his hot, seductive gaze. “You really love doing all this, don’t you?”
His lips curled into a smile. “Oh, yeah. Almost as much as I love you.”
Emily pulled up the thought of him having been intimate with her mother, examined it briefly, and then pushed it aside. No, he hadn’t done anything like this with Vivian, nor had he told her he loved her. Emily was sure of it now. In her mind, that entire episode might never have happened. She only hoped Alan and her mother felt the same way.
Still, this wasn’t the time to bring up that subject—not when he knelt between her thighs looking like the embodiment of every dream she’d ever had. Doing things with her she’d never even imagined. Making her feel like the most beautiful, desirable woman in the world. Igniting her passion. Making her feel loved…
Uninhibited (Unlikely Lovers) Page 25
