by Emery Jacobs
I turn around in time to see Ava glaring at him with a grimace covering her face.
“So, I guess that would be a no.” Miles looks in my direction.
“What are you not telling me?” I direct the question toward Ava, because she is my best friend, and even though she is supposed to keep my secrets from Miles, she is not supposed to keep shit from me. I immediately walk back across the room and stand in front of her desk.
“It’s really not important, Emmie, and it’s certainly not worth ruining your day,” Ava mumbles while flipping through the folder in front of her.
Miles forces a cough and clears his throat. This is what he does when he’s nervous. He’s had this same coughing-and-throat-clearing thing going on since he was a kid. That’s why he can’t lie, because he’ll end up in a gargling fit. It’s actually funny, or it was when we were teenagers and he would get busted for doing something stupid, prompting Dad to start questioning him.
“It must be something kind of important or else my brother wouldn’t be nervous about me knowing. It’s obvious he thinks I should know, but you don’t want me to.”
“Fine, I’ll tell you, but don’t freak out,” Ava says as she looks up at Miles then back at me.
I rub my sweaty palms on my slacks then fold my arms across my chest.
“Max is back in town,” Miles blurts out before Ava has a chance to speak. This is typical behavior for my impulsive brother. He doesn’t have the ability to refrain from doing or saying things as soon as it enters his mind.
“Okay,” I respond, because honestly, I don’t know what to say. Shortly after my ex-husband told me about his pregnant girlfriend, he put in for a transfer to Washington State to be with her. It’s been a year since I last saw him, and the divorce was as easy as divorces go. There was no arguing over any of our community property, because he gave it all to me, and we didn’t have any kids to fight over, so it was a relatively painless process. It still hurt, though. Building a life with the man I fell in love with at fifteen was all I’d ever known. I sigh and direct my attention toward Ava.
“How long have you known?” I ask her.
She closes the folder she was working on and pushes it aside before looking up at Miles.
“Stop it! Both of you just stop trying to protect me. I’m an adult, in case you’ve forgotten,” I say, my voice full of frustration. I place both hands on Ava’s desk and lean over toward her. “I survived three miscarriages, my husband screwing around on me for years, and him finally leaving me when his girlfriend got pregnant. So, I think I can deal with the fact he’s back in town.”
“You’re right,” Ava finally agrees.
I let out an exasperated sigh before standing up straight and resting my hands on my hips.
“We just worry about you, sis. I wish you would have let me beat his ass a year ago and maybe I would feel better about him being back,” Miles says.
“That doesn’t even make sense,” I say as my gaze meets his.
“If I had let him know where he stood with me and our family before he left Idlewood last year, then I wouldn’t be so worried about him harassing you now that he’s back,” Miles huffs out then walks around the desk to where I’m standing. “You’re my sister, Emmie, and I love you. I want to protect you from ever having to go through getting hurt again, especially by that asshole. He doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you do, much less be anywhere near you.”
“Hold on.” I raise my hands and take a step back. “I still don’t know how long he’s been back, but I can promise both of you that I haven’t seen him. I can assure you both that Max is not interested in seeing me or having any contact with me.”
“How do you know that?” Ava asks.
“Because he’s the one who walked out on me. He filed for divorce and moved away. I haven’t seen him since the day he left. If he was interested in me, he would have fought for our marriage, but he didn’t. He wanted her and their child, and that’s what he got.”
Tears start swimming around in my eyes, but I refuse to cry. Even though I’m over that asshole, it hurts to relive everything he did to me.
“I talked to one of the guys who works for Max’s father, and he said Max hated the move. His company put him in an office to handle local accounts. He stopped traveling and couldn’t handle it, I guess, so his dad brought him back here to work with him. I’m not exactly sure where he lives, but I do know Natalie and the baby came with him,” Miles explains.
I suck in a deep breath then blow it out slowly. He’s back in town with her and the child.
“If he contacts you, let me know. I’m not going to tolerate him harassing you after everything he put you through,” Miles growls.
“I’ll be fine,” I tell them before grabbing my coffee, which I had forgotten about and left sitting on Ava’s desk.
“He’s been back about four months,” she says just as I turn to walk out of her office.
I’m pissed she’s known this and hasn’t bothered to tell me. No wonder Miles has been more overprotective than usual.
I stop and turn back to face the two of them.
“Four fucking months? Thanks a lot for telling me.” I drop my head back and close my eyes.
“Oh, and he didn’t marry her. She’s here with him, but they’re not married,” Ava says.
I open my eyes, straighten my stance, and look at Ava.
“The baby?”
I’ve never asked about the child, but today I want to know it all.
“A girl, and she was born just a couple weeks after he left you,” Ava whispers. A single tear rolls down her cheek. “I know it’s been a year and we never talk about it, but I want you to know how truly sorry I am that you have to live through this again,” she says, wiping the tear from her face.
He has a daughter. I shake my head and somehow manage to hold my tears back. I refuse to cry in front of them.
I’m not mad at Ava or Miles; they were only trying to protect my heart. There’s nothing left for me to say, so I turn away from the two people who love me the most and walk out of the office.
17
Beau
I pull into Emmie’s driveway and park beside her Jeep. I’m not sure what I’m doing here at four o’clock on a Monday afternoon, but she texted me about an hour ago and asked me to stop by her house. If she wanted information about her car, I could have given it to her over the phone or by text, but she didn’t ask about it. I’m uncomfortable being here in the middle of the day with my truck on display for everybody to see, but when she texted that she really needed to see me, I couldn’t tell her no—or at least I didn’t want to. So, I left Leo behind to close up the shop and headed this way.
I climb out of my truck and make my way down the sidewalk toward her front door, knocking twice before she opens it. She’s standing in front of me in a short, white off-the-shoulder dress with her hair braided to the side. My eyes start at her pink toenails and slowly move up, taking in every inch of her body. She’s so damn beautiful, too beautiful for her own good.
For several long moments, we stand in front of each other watching, staring. It’s unusual for Emmie not to say anything, because she tends to do most of the talking when we’re together, but today’s different. She’s different.
Emmie arches an eyebrow and one side of her mouth tugs into a half-smile. Without warning, she grabs my wrist, pulls me inside her house, and slams the door. No words are spoken as she pushes me against the closed door, rises up on her toes, and crashes her lips to mine. Her mouth moves frantically—biting, punishing, angry.
She reaches for my belt and quickly works it loose. My cock swells as my mind reels with want, lust, and the need to fuck her. My breathing quickens when she jerks my pants and boxers down in one swift movement.
She grips my cock and slowly slides her hand down to the bottom of my erection.
“Fuck me,” she whispers against my lips.
My pulse is pounding, my breathing is quick and choppy
, and my dick is throbbing. All I can focus on are the two words that just came out of her mouth. I let out a grunt then mumble her name. I slip my hands under the short dress she’s wearing until I reach the thin piece of fabric that’s keeping me from giving her what she’s asking for.
Fuck me. Fuck me. It plays over and over in my head. Her words were soft but needy, just the right combination to make me lose my mind.
I tear her panties from her smooth skin and toss them to the side. Her hand continues to move up and down my thickness, stroking me hard and fast.
My hands cup her ass as I lift her from the floor. She wraps her long legs around my waist and I shift our bodies until I have her back pressed against the wall.
“Now, Beau. I need you inside me,” she whimpers as she lifts her body and slides her wet pussy over my hardness.
“Fuck!” I grunt out.
She grabs my hair, pulling my face into the bend of her neck. I inhale her scent of coconut and sex before kissing and licking her shoulder, neck, and chest. I keep us balanced against the wall with one hand and use the other to rip the top of her dress from her body, exposing two perfect, round breasts. Fuck, she’s not wearing a bra.
I lash my tongue over her nipples as I plow, pump, and pound into her tight, wet heat. Emmie rocks and grinds her hips, harder, wild. My orgasm hits me without warning and I come. It’s unrestrained and uncontrollable.
“Oh, God! Don’t stop!” she screams, her pussy gripping me tighter with each thrust.
I grab hold of Emmie’s hips and drive into her as she loses control. She drops her forehead to mine and her eyes flutter closed. Her breathing is rapid for a few seconds and then it levels out. Her body relaxes and melds into mine.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper against her lips before kissing her cheek and down her neck. My mouth grazes her earlobe, and she sucks in a quick breath.
She needs me to stay, to hold her, and tell her whatever is going on today will be okay, but I can’t, because I’m not that guy. I think I may have been at one time, but that was a long time ago.
I slowly help Emmie slide down the wall until she’s steady on her feet. I’m not really sure what just happened, but I think she used me for sex. I’m not complaining; it’s just that now I don’t know what to say or what to do. I told her on Friday that I can’t give her a relationship, but somehow, I think tonight wasn’t about her wanting a relationship with me. It was about something much deeper.
Emmie steps around me, holding her torn dress over her chest. She walks over to her ripped panties lying on the floor and bends down to retrieve them. Fuck. I can’t believe I ripped both pieces of clothing she had on her body.
“Sorry about that,” I say, motioning to her dress.
She shrugs and walks away.
I quickly get dressed, which only consists of pulling up my underwear and jeans. I shake my head as I look over at Emmie. She deserves so much more than sex on her living room couch and against the front door. I’m a complete asshole.
I follow her out of the foyer and into the living room.
“Look—”
“I know, I know. You don’t have to say it again,” she huffs out on a frustrated breath.
“Say what?” I ask as my gaze meets hers.
“You’re not looking for a relationship, or you don’t have time for a relationship—I can’t remember your exact words, but I get it. I’m not asking you for a relationship or even a friendship. I mean, I shouldn’t have….” She shakes her head and walks toward the table against the back wall where her phone is vibrating. She snatches it up and apparently sends the call to voicemail, because the vibrating sound suddenly stops. A couple seconds later, the phone vibrates again, this time followed by a buzz. She picks it up with her free hand and looks at the notification, biting her bottom lip as her eyes move across the screen.
“You’re right about the relationship part, but that’s not what I was going to say,” I tell her.
Her eyes meet mine then dart toward the front door. She places her phone back down on the table and raises her gaze back to mine.
“You need to go. We can talk about this another time.”
I nod, because she’s upset and I don’t want to argue with her. She rushes toward the door, still holding her dress up while clutching her panties in the same hand. Before she reaches the foyer, the chime of the doorbell sounds.
“Shit!” she whisper-yells and then turns around to face me. “I need you to do me a favor.”
I raise my right eyebrow as my eyes flick toward the door. The chime of the doorbell sounds again, and this time it’s followed by the pounding of a fist.
“Follow me,” she says, grabbing my arm and directing me down the hall. After a couple steps, I stop walking, because I need to know what’s going on. Who texted her, and who’s at the door? I don’t think she’s seeing anyone. Hell, I should know, because up until a few weeks ago, I spent all of my free time stalking her.
“Wait,” I growl.
Her eyes meet mine and she sighs out a breath. “I’ll explain later, just please keep moving,” she pleads as she touches my arm. I want to refuse to let her hide me away from whoever is outside the front door, but her blue eyes are full of panic and her hand trembles against my skin. So, I give in and let her continue to drag me down the hall. She pulls me through the last door on the right, which is apparently her bedroom. Everything inside this huge room is Emmie: soft, white, and beautiful—things a guy like me is definitely not used to. The women I’ve had sex with over the past few years don’t even come close to Emmie. Some have been sexy, with hard bodies and big tits. Others have been pretty, and some even sweet, but Emmie… she’s so much more, and that’s exactly why I need to stop feeding my obsession and walk away from her before she finds out the truth.
After Dave takes care of her car, I’ll no longer have a reason to see her. She’ll no longer need me, and I can get back to my life like it was before Emmie. She’ll eventually meet a nice guy who can take care of her and give her everything she needs. Then I’ll vanish from her mind and she’ll start her life over. I’m the rebound guy, not the forever guy.
“Stay in here until I come back to get you,” she whispers as she takes her dress off and tosses it into a hamper in the corner of her bedroom along with her ripped panties.
Fuuuck. Now she’s standing in front of me completely naked, my cock’s heavy, and I have no fucking clue who’s still beating on her front door. Only seconds ago, I decided this needs to stop. We need to stop, but I can’t—not right now.
My legs quickly eat up the distance between us. She’s bent over an open dresser drawer with black pants in her hand. I grab the pants from her hand, sling them across the room, and scoop her up into my arms.
“Beau! What are you doing?” Her voice is just above a whisper. It’s obvious she doesn’t want whoever is at the door to hear anything coming from inside the house.
I drop Emmie gently onto the bed and climb over her. Her eyes frantically search my face for answers, but she won’t get any from me. I hover close to her naked body, lean down, and kiss her on the lips. My hand skates across her warm skin. She wiggles and writhes beneath me as her hand cups my erection through my jeans. She pushes and pulls at my cock, making me harder. I want to fuck her, hard and wild. I want to live buried inside the warmth of her pussy for the rest of the night. A deep groan escapes my chest as I push into her firm grip, torturing myself, because I know fucking her again is not an option.
The sound of Emmie’s phone ringing in the living room and the knocking on the door does nothing to stop us.
I pull away from her lips and she breathes out a long, slow sigh. My mouth comes down on her neck then skims over both nipples, licking and biting every inch of her skin as I move down her body. Emmie’s hand is forced away from my dick as I continue my journey across her stomach. I miss the pressure her hand gave my aching cock, but the need to taste her is so much stronger.
I lift her right l
eg and spread kisses along her inner thigh. She moans before whispering my name. I move between her legs and kiss her again, and then again. Emmie arches her back and grabs my hair, pulling hard. My mouth presses tighter against her, sucking and licking her swollen clit. Her hips swirl and rotate quicker, faster, until she’s coming, long and hard. Her body tightens and then relaxes. My tongue slows and moves from bottom to top and then swirls around her swollen nub. Emmie whimpers as she loosens her grip on my hair. My tongue laps up her sweetness as I press my nose into her and inhale; she smells as sweet as she tastes. If I don’t stop whatever this is I’ve gotten myself into, I’m going to drown in it, in her.
Emmie releases my hair and pulls away from me before climbing off the bed. She dresses quickly and walks around to the side where I am now sitting. Her small hands cup my face and she presses a slow, lip-biting kiss to my mouth.
“You’re too much, Beau Matson,” she whispers after pulling her lips from mine.
Too much of a bad thing? Too much of the wrong guy for you? Too much baggage? All of those thoughts run through my mind, but she doesn’t say any of them. She smiles and kisses me on the cheek.
“Stay here. I’ll be back in a few minutes. I just need to get rid of my brother.”
I clench my fists and drop my gaze toward the floor. I don’t want to take a chance on her seeing all the emotions I’m feeling right now, because one look into my eyes will show her all the anger and dread running through my veins just knowing Miles Carmichael is standing on the other side of the front door. The reality of what I’ve done and what I’m doing seems so much clearer. Even though I didn’t spend weeks following her around wanting to end up in her bed, it happened, and I shouldn’t have let it. So, I have to brace myself for what’s waiting for me just outside her house. I have a feeling after he saw my truck outside that as soon as she opens the front door, he’s going to tell her about me and just what kind of guy I truly am.
“Beau,” she says softly.
“Yeah, I’ll wait here. Go take care of your brother,” I manage to say without making eye contact.
