Justin grabs his nose, rolling around on the deck, as Emma scrambles to her feet and runs towards me. The deck fills with her family as Justin lets out a loud groan before punching the floor, “You’re the one who knocked her up and you’re telling me not to touch her!”
I go to haul Justin to his feet so I can knock him on his ass again, but the supplication in Emma’s eyes stops me. Slowly, I step away from Justin and pull Emma into my arms, trying very hard to let it go.
Emma turns towards her family, her eyes scanning their stunned faces, “I’m not the naïve girl I was when I left here. I’ve heard some of your whispers and remarks about Breck and his past, but if you don’t accept him, then you don’t accept me. I love all of you, but I’m tired of people judging him, judging me. I know what I’ve done. So does he. Give him a chance; give us a chance. There’s not one person here who hasn’t made a mistake, who hasn’t sinned. Most of you don’t even know how lucky you are to have grown up here. You may not have had everything you’ve wanted, but you’ve had everything you ever needed handed to you. I’m not saying your lives have been without hardship, but you haven’t walked in his shoes. If you want to be a part of my life, Breck’s part of that deal, so no more snarky whispers when we enter a room; you can say whatever you want about me, but enough of the ignorant remarks about him when you have no idea what you’re talking about in the first place!”
Anger surges through me as I stare at the speechless crowd who I’ve known for only a few hours, but she’s known all her life. Her dad is standing in the middle, and I watch as Emma’s eyes blur when they land on his. Blinking back the tears, she refuses to let them fall as she gives her father one last glance. She heads back inside, storming through the house, and I hear the screen door slam loudly as I rush to catch up with her.
I gently grab her arm, pulling her towards me and pressing her against the porch wall. Her eyes are blazing as she looks into mine, and I shake my head, “Going off like that was unnecessary, Emma!”
She goes to push away from the wall, but I carefully pin her against it again, grabbing her wrists and holding them behind her back, a sly grin curving my lips, “I don’t need anyone to defend me, but, damn, I love you so much right now!” My mouth closes in on hers, my hands squeezing her wrists tighter, and I kiss her passionately. Her back is pressed against the unyielding wood as I hold nothing back. I can see the thought of being seen in a compromising position flitter through her eyes and I back off. “Sorry, got carried away,” I breathe, my voice husky and full of need.
“Thank you for trying, Breck!” The love in her eyes makes me believe I can be who she needs me to be, who I never thought I wanted to be, until meeting her. “C’mere, it doesn’t matter what they think,” she smiles, pulling my lips back to hers, “just get me out of here.”
“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. I’m so damn proud of you.”
“I am, too, although, I wouldn’t have used the same choice of words as you.” Her dad gives me a soft smile before he turns towards Emma, “What you did in there took guts. Again, my choice of words would’ve been less…abrasive, but they served their purpose. Your mother would’ve been proud of you, too.” John gives her a hug then places his hand on my shoulder before he walks back inside.
“I know I lost it back there. I’m working on leaving that shit behind. Are you sure you can handle someone with my past?”
“I want all of you.” She takes my hands, placing one over her heart and one over her stomach, “All I care about is your future.” Her eyebrow cocks and she grins, “The question is, can you handle us?”
͠
“Where in the hell do these people go to have a good time around here?” Gavin quips, slowly spinning around Emma’s front yard as he grimaces in the early morning sun. “There’s nothing but cornfields, barns, and whatever in the hell that thing is over there,” he complains, chucking his chin towards the silo.
“There are clubs here, too” Emma laughs, “they just aren’t like the ones in Boston.” That damn smile that seems to steal my soul turns devilish, “Besides, those cornfields and barns you passed, they’ve seen their fair share of fun.”
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I brush my lips against the side of her neck, “Those barn walls better not have stories about your cute ass having fun inside them, Em,” I tease.
“Only a few kisses,” she winks, pressing her lips quickly against mine before I have time to protest.
“Emma!” Heather, one of Emma’s cousins, calls for her as the screen door slams and she sashays across the yard in short, tight black shorts, a white tank top, and cowboy boots.
“Holy shit,” Gavin lets out a low whistle, “I might be trying out one of those barns with that fine ass swaying this way to give those walls a few more stories.”
Jess smacks his arm, “Down boy, one Jones girl being knocked up in this town is plenty.”
“Hey!” Emma scowls, sticking out her tongue.
“Aw, you know I love you,” Jess squeezes Emma, “especially since you’re making me an aunt.” Jess places her hand against Emma’s flat stomach and gives her another squeeze before she glances at Jason, who is smiling at her like an idiot.
I see the longing in Jess’ eyes and know that the whole idea of having a family is growing on her, and will probably become reality a few years down the road, especially if Jason has his way.
“Your dad told me to get you to move your butt, Em. We’re supposed to be at the church in an hour,” Heather grabs Emma, pulling her out of my arms as Em grabs Jess’ wrist, dragging her along with them.
“Damn, Emma, you’ve got some good genes in this family, girl,” Gavin smacks his lips.
Heather glances over her shoulder, giving Gavin a flirtatious smirk, “Only the best.” She flashes a quick wink before flipping her blond hair behind her, “Love the accent by the way.”
“Same here,” Gavin calls out, “I’d like to hear that sweet, southern voice echoing off those barn walls.”
Heather laughs, and Gavin lets out a low growl, “I’m thinking I could change my mind about this town.”
I slap him on the back of the head, laughing out loud at how his eyes are glued to Heather’s ass while mine are glued on Emma, wanting to drag her sexy body to the damn barn everyone keeps talking about and ravish every inch of her all night. The hardened shaft in my jeans cocks painfully, begging for mercy, after waiting so long to get buried deep inside Emma again, and I don’t know if I can hold out until we get to Paris late tonight.
John opens the storm door and pulls Emma in for a hug before waving his hand for us to join him, “Son, if you want to marry my daughter, you better shake a leg and get ready.”
Throwing on my black suit and tie doesn’t seem like it will take me very long, but, when I’m standing in front of the mirror, looking at the reflection of the man staring back at me, I freeze. There’s no doubt in my mind that I want Emma in my life. I need her in my life, but I’m terrified of disappointing her with all my shit somehow. I’ve heard of that moment; the one where time suspends with everything in the world standing still and the intense heaviness of the horrifying realization that your life really isn’t yours and what you do with it doesn’t just affect you anymore, hits you like a sledgehammer slamming straight into your gut…I’m living that moment right now. When I walk out this bedroom door, I’m no longer responsible for only me; I’m responsible for Emma and our baby growing inside of her. That realization is enough to bring any man to his knees. Gripping the edge of the dresser, I stare at the scared as hell reflection of myself, gritting my teeth, Don’t fuck this up, Steele! Don’t fuck this up!
“You having second thoughts, Breck?” Granddad asks, stepping inside John’s room and stepping next to me.
“About a million of them,” I groan, “but not the ones you think.”
“Pull your shit together, get out that door, and marry the girl who was brave enough to whip your ass into shape before I decide to try to
knock some sense into you again,” he warns, his weathered lips curving as he chuckles when he sees my hands trembling from the fear of screwing up with Emma.
Damn, I’m not having one of my best moments here.
“I know I’m not good at those heart to heart talks a normal grandfather is supposed to have with his grandson, but I am damn good at knowing you, Breck.” Granddad pushes my shoulder until I turn and look at him, “And, I know that you are going to screw up.”
My brows furrow tightly as my jaw tenses. “You can stop trying to cheer me up now,” I spit sarcastically.
Granddad laughs, “Breck, we all screw up; we’re human. You-” he shrugs his shoulder “-you seem to have a knack at it more than most but you also take care of your mistakes, and the ones you love, more than anyone I’ve ever known. You stepped into a position you despised to take care of things when I couldn’t and you did a damn good job; I have no doubts in you, or in how you will take care of Emma.” Slapping me on the shoulder, he nods his head at me with love and respect in his eyes before walking out the door, leaving me speechless.
Trying to follow my grandfather’s advice, I pull myself together and head out the door to ride to the church. The pews in the small white chapel are packed, and I’m grateful that I don’t see Justin anywhere; I would really hate to have to kick his ass here. Sweat beads on my forehead and at the nape of my neck as the music begins and the doors are opened. I can’t see Emma yet and my pulse pounds so furiously, it shames me to the core.
John softly clears his throat, and I look up at him smiling down at me as he waits to pronounce his daughter as my wife. His lips press tightly together, “Just wanted to throw one thing out there at you, son. This is just as nerve wracking for me waiting to watch Emma walk through those doors any second as it is for you.” He clears his throat, “I may be a preacher, son, but I will still put a bullet in your butt if you hurt my daughter.”
Licking my lips, they curve into a wide grin, my respect for him continuing to grow every day, “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
His usual benevolent smile returns and he pats my shoulder, “Now that we have that understanding, you might want to turn around.”
My gaze follows his line of sight and the air is stripped straight from my lungs as Emma steps through the doors. Her beautiful face is framed in soft chestnut curls as the rest of her hair is swept up in some kind of twist and her slender body is wrapped all in white, but that’s all I notice before my eyes lock on hers, my knees going weak with the love staring back at me. I want to rush her father into pronouncing us man and wife so I can show her every ounce of love I have for her. When she smiles that damn smile, I know that she’s going to be a handful, and I’m going to love getting my hands on her.
Eleven hours later, I finally get to satisfy my hunger, at least for awhile, when I check us into the King suite of the Hotel du Louvre with a view of the Louvre Museum, Emma’s dream place to visit in the entire world. She’s beside herself, staring out the window at the famous museum. I toss the suitcase on the floor next to the bed and Emma spins around. Her blue eyes are so damn brilliant as she watches me, before they suddenly shadow with shyness. When those full lips curve into that smile that kills me, I about explode just looking at her.
Emma’s lip does that quirky little downward tilt and her tongue slides across her bottom lip slowly. I’m mesmerized as she crosses the room, lowering herself to her knees in front of me. Her fingers are steady as she undoes the button of my jeans. The soft clicks of my zipper sound so loud when she pulls it down, pushing the denim fabric to the sides.
Emma’s eyes never leave mine as my breath hitches roughly when she puts her warm hand over my throbbing length, squeezing just enough to prove she owns me. Damn if she hasn’t owned me from the moment those eyes met mine, and, by the look in those eyes now, she knows it.
I want to taste you like you did me,” she whispers, her fingers slipping inside my boxers and pressing tight against my pulsating shaft as she begins an up and down rhythm that forces me to grip her shoulders to keep my knees from buckling; her every touch feels so damn good.
“If you put your mouth on me now, after not having you for so long, I’ll explode, Emma,” I mutter gutturally. “I’ll let you put that sweet mouth all over me tomorrow, but, right now, I’m making you mine,” I growl, grabbing her arms and pushing her on the bed.
I wanted tonight to be slow, special, like that romantic crap in the movies, but to hell with that; the hunger in her eyes is just as intense as mine, and there’s no way I can hold anything back with her. Emma’s on her knees, stripping out of her shirt and jeans, as I rip my clothing off, throwing it to the side. Her mouth crashes into mine and I welcome it, tasting her hunger and fueling it with my tongue as I invade her mouth, pushing her back down on the bed.
“Emma, I’ve been waiting for this so long.” My voice is beyond husky and deep, and she laughs.
“Shut up and make love to me, Breck.”
I do just that, pouring every ounce of love inside of me into her as I finger her opening, flashing a proud, cocky grin when I feel her dripping for me. I thrust inside of her, and she cries out with pleasure. My mouth is all over her skin, tasting, teasing, lavishing, as she writhes underneath me. I feel a difference in her. Even with the first time we made love, she was the best I’ve ever had, but now, it’s like she has let all the guilt go and she’s free, given me everything she’s got, and I have to grit my teeth, forcing myself not to burst until I hear her screaming my name with her own release.
Plunging myself deep inside of her, I feel myself building, and I clench my jaw so tightly it hurts, trying to hold back. She’s so damn hot and tight, it feels like heaven every time I thrust into Emma and I lose myself, succumbing to her touch, her sweetness, everything she is. My fingers dig into her skin as I feel her clench around me, making me swell impossibly bigger as she pulsates, crying out my name as her body arches wantonly into mine, pushing me even further inside of her. I can’t hold back any longer and I fill Emma with such vigor tears spring to my eyes.
Emma’s still writing underneath me as I collapse on top of her, panting breathlessly as I kiss her neck and ear, “God, I love you, Emma.”
She purrs with pleasure, and that sexy as hell sound swells me instantly, making me ready for round two. Pushing up on my elbows, I hover over her, “I think it’s time to give you what you need now, Emma.”
“You already have given me everything I need,” she whispers, her warm breath sending shivers against my neck.
“No, Emma, not everything.” I wrap my arm around her stomach and pull her body, slick from our exertion, against me. My hardened state is pressed against the back of her thighs and the delicious curve of her ass as I lower us into the chair. Pressing her back tightly against my chest, my tongue slides against the nape of her neck, tasting the sweet sweat of her skin as my fingers find her breast and still recovering slit between her legs. Teasing, circling, and gently tugging on her nipple, my mouth never leaves her neck while my other fingers slide up and down her wet heat mercilessly.
Her body’s still flushed from her previous release, but I can feel her tense, climbing that euphoric high again. A gasp escapes and her back arches as my fingers move faster, sliding up and down between her wet folds and tugging harder at the peak of her breast. The sensations of feeling her body respond so willingly and openly to mine is overwhelming, and I nearly come undone when she pushes against my fingers, begging for more and matching my pace as she squirms in my lap, causing me to become painfully harder. I press my full, throbbing length against the soft flesh of her bottom and lower back, and she cries out.
Finding the spot that drives her insane, I press my finger against it tightly, changing direction and rapidly rubbing from side to side. I nip at the back of her neck, my teeth grazing her skin then my tongue lavishing the sensitive flesh as my finger tweaks and tugs harder at her nipple. Another loud cry escapes those sweet lips and she loses all con
trol, her body thrashing and clawing against my body, the chair, anything she can grab onto, while the furious pace of my finger rubs against her until she is in a wild frenzy ready to explode.
The taste of her skin against my tongue elicits a deep growl from my stomach up through my throat. I need her more than I need to breathe as I press my fingers tighter against her soft wet nub, circling, teasing, sliding side to side, up and down, in and out, until she bursts into an intense flaming release, her fingers clawing my thighs.
“No, baby, don’t finish yet,” I growl, lifting her from my lap and bending her over the edge of the bed before slamming into her. I feel as if I’m in an out of body experience as I float, feeling every single heady sensation as I take control, digging my fingers into her skin and wrapping my hands tightly around her waist as I drive into her faster, harder, wildly reckless. Her orgasm seems to last forever as she spirals out of control underneath me. I feel her tighten, shattering again and again until she screams my name, panting and writhing from the intensity. I give three more forceful thrusts; my fingers tighten, digging further into her skin, as I feel like I’m going to die from how good she feels. I muse at how it would be the sweetest death as I erupt, spilling violently inside of Emma.
My body is drained as I pull hers close, cradling her in my arms. Emma curls against me, her head tucking against my neck, as her hair tangles in the stubble on my chin. It’s several minutes before our breathing returns to normal, and she lets out a contented sigh, “I want to do that with you every single night, Breck.”
“Now, that’s something I know I can handle,” I laugh, brushing my lips across her neck and placing my hand on her stomach, feeling undeniably blessed.
Epilogue
“Oh, God, Emma, don’t push, not yet!” I push her legs back together.
She pants, breathing in and out raggedly, “Then-drive-FASTER!”
Ash to Steele Page 34
