by Rebel Hart
I can’t wait to feel some relief, feeling overwhelmed by the intimacy of the taste dripping out from him. I slide my mouth around him and run my fingers down between my legs. His eyes spark at the sight and the moans that escape my mouth at my own touch.
“Wait.” He sits up suddenly, pushing me to the side of him. “I want to watch you.” He says it as a command, not a request.
I sit next to him on the bed, perched on my knees as he watches my hand. I keep one hand gripped around him, moving up and down against the pulsing throbs that flow through him as I touch myself. My head thrashes back in cries of ecstasy as I stroke him and myself, loving the intensity of his glaring eyes. I start to feel self-conscious and vulnerable, but his excitement pushes all of that away.
My dripping wetness and the feel of his hardness in my hands makes me yearn to feel him inside of me. In frustration, I grab his hand and pull it between my thighs, coaxing his fingers inside of me. He hardens even before his fingers slide inside and I begin rocking into them to feel him more deeply.
I am in complete control of him, directing my own touch and his wherever I want it to go. For whatever I thought I wanted to happen in this room tonight, I realize now this is exactly what I needed. The relief of sex completely on my own terms. The return of control washes over me, allowing me to let go of any and everything else.
My hair falls loose as my head thrashes around and I lose myself in our hands, our breaths, and my primal cries. I rock my hips harder against his hand, moving my fingers in quickening circles that glide over my pulsating nerves. My climax builds as Emmett begins to grunt and strain in my grip.
“Wait,” I barely manage to whisper as I yank my hand away from him.
He leans forward as our hands continue working me over, and takes my hardened nipple into his mouth, holding it with his lips and teeth as his tongue darts against the sensitivity of it and the sensation that shoots straight to my core. It sends me over the edge as I grind against our combined touch, rubbing against the rippling pleasure that crashes over me in a merciless wave.
As the tingling fades, I push his hands back to his sides, catching one hand on the way to take his fingers into my mouth. I wrap my lips around them and suck in the taste of my own juices. Something I’ve never done before, but I am so lost in the ecstasy that in this moment I feel like I could do anything that popped into my head or his.
I bring him back into my mouth and lower over him, taking him in as deep as I can stand it. I am overcome with a need to own him. To make him melt in my hands and belong to no one but me. He may have to put Vivian in her place, but I am determined to make sure no one makes him feel the way I do.
His cock pushes against the back of my throat before I pull back again, pushing him in and out until he is whimpering and his legs are quivering. His hand grips into my hair as his hips thrust against me until finally, I feel the taste of him spilling into my mouth. My hand continues working over him, sliding across my spit, as I milk every last throbbing drop of him into my mouth.
With my mouth full of his seed, I think of looking for a place to spit it out, but I want to drink him in. I take it all down with one swallow, leaving him breathless and stunned as he watches me. We’re both speechless and breathless as I collapse next to him, nuzzling my cheek in between his muscular arm and chest.
We melt into a deep sleep until I wake up in a panic. I fumble for my phone in the darkness.
“Shit!” I yell out, jerking him awake.
It’s after midnight and my mom has called three times. I don’t know how long we were asleep, but my legs are still numb from my intense orgasm.
“We have to go,” I tell him as I race to find my clothes.
He wipes the sleep from his eyes and stands to flick on the bedside lamp, but he doesn’t look like he’s in any hurry to get out the door. “Wait,” he says, walking over to run his arms around me from behind.
“No, Emmett! We have to go!” I plead with him. “My mom is going to be pissed. I can’t afford to be put on house arrest right now with everything that’s happening with your sister. We still have to go talk to my dad, remember?”
“You’re already late. The damage is done.” He grins. “Might as well get as much out of it as we can while we’re here.”
I open my mouth to argue, but I’m silenced by the feel of him nibbling at my neck and ears. He kisses down my neck and down my spine, sending chills of renewed desire across my still naked body. One hand trails down and feels how wet I already am again as he lets out a grunt of satisfaction. Sure, I’m ready to go for round two. But everything in me wants to urge us to leave. I just can’t seem to get the words out of my mouth.
Suddenly he whips me around and pins my face down to the mattress with a force that only excites me more. His erection presses against my ass, when I finally regain my ability to speak.
“There are no condoms, remember?” I groan.
His hands leave me for a moment and then I hear tearing paper. I lift slightly and look around to see him sliding a condom on. “You asshole!” I cry out. “You had one the whole time?”
He ignores my scolding, which makes me want to bitch him out even more. But I am quickly distracted by his hands squeezing into my hips as he effortlessly slides straight into me. No warm up needed. Wasting no time, he begins thrusting in and out of me at a quickened pace.
We are inexplicably restored to the same level of desire we had been suspended in earlier. He fills me completely as he pounds against me. I push against him as hard as I can, feeling like I can’t get enough of him inside of me, even though I am certain nothing else could possibly fit. I slip back into an insatiable hunger as I claw into his thighs, urging him not to stop or slow down.
Our groans grow more demanding in between our heavy breaths until we finally we build to our release. I collapse against the bed as my muscles tighten around him, tensing with the roaring orgasm that crashes over me.
“Okay, now we really have to go,” I laugh into the sheets as I try to regain my ability to move and speak.
His hands press into my ass and rub up my back, followed by a trail of long, slow kisses that drive me mad. “Don’t get me started again,” I quip.
I’m scared of losing myself in this. Everything about him is intoxicating. The winding curls of his hair, and his expressive eyes that give away everything that is going on inside of him. I see even more sparking inside of them every day. He’s finally opening up, letting the real him shine through.
“Started?” he asks coyly. “My goal is for you to never stop.”
We’re all afraid of the darkness inside of us, but Emmett has a way of bringing mine front and center. I can’t hide from it when he’s around. He forces me to confront the darkest parts of myself. What I can stand, what I can forgive. I have been able to outrun everyone and everything else I have ever encountered…except for him. I can’t outrun Emmett. I can’t get away from him, no matter how hard I try.
“Let’s just run away,” he blurts suddenly. “Let’s just get away from all of this.”
“What about Jameson Automobiles?” I reply heavily, knowing Emmett could never run away. And I wouldn’t run away with him regardless. I have a family here who loves me, but I don’t throw that in his face right now.
He sighs and lets it go. I don’t know if he was hoping for me to tell him it was okay to run away from the company, but I think we both know that can’t happen. And he would never let himself do that, even if I did tell him it was okay.
“Why do you always look at me like that?” I look away, blushing.
“Like what?” he asks.
“With that crazy look in your eye.”
“I’ll tell you a secret,” he says with a shy grin that quickly fades. “I have always wondered, if I stare at you long enough, if maybe you could read my thoughts. Know what’s going on inside of me so I don’t have to fuck it up trying to say it all out loud. Before…when my dad and the Elites were still around…I had to act a
certain way. Say and do certain things that I hated. I used to wish you could read my mind. So you’d understand everything the same way I did.”
“That’s funny,” I smirk shyly. “I never feel like I know what’s going on in your mind, but I feel like you always know what I’m thinking. It scares me sometimes.”
“I don’t know what you’re thinking right now,” he quips.
“Yes, you do!” I laugh. “I just told you!”
“Oh, don’t play dumb, Ophelia.” He teases my chin with his finger. “You expect me to believe there is anything less than at least a thousand thoughts going on in your brain at any given time?”
“I think you give me too much credit.” I smile.
“Or you don’t give yourself enough credit,” he quips back before rolling over.
It’s strange. I’m not used to Emmett building me up. I can’t understand why it’s so hard for him to just say how he feels, but it seems maybe he feels so much it’s hard to express. It’s a possibility that I’ve never fully considered before. I was so busy convincing myself he was heartless and malicious for so long, I never considered just how many conflicting thoughts could be happening inside of him. Or that he feels he has no way to get it all out.
But it makes sense considering what I know about his father. Emotion wasn’t allowed. It was considered a weakness. Emmett has been trained to suppress how he feels. More than that, he’s been trained to convince himself those feelings aren’t there at all.
“If only we could just hide away in some place like this for a few days. Or a month,” I say with a smile as I peel myself up and reach for my clothes.
“I’m serious,” he says with a kiss to my forehead. “I don’t ever want to be too far from your mind. Think of this and me at least a little all the time.”
“Ugh, I do,” I assure him bitterly. “That’s part of the problem.”
My mind drifts back to his sister, still believing that once we find her, everything between us will be easier. Could Bernadette have just run away? Or even killed herself? Emmett is convinced she would have left a note, but he’s not traumatized by his father’s death in the same way she was. But then another thought crosses my mind.
“Do you think Bernadette knew about your deal with my dad?” I ask cautiously.
“No, how could she have?” he replies confidently.
“I don’t know, but…do you think…she’d come after you if she knew?” I suggest. “Could that have something to do with this? What if she’s plotting some kind of revenge against you?”
“My sister isn’t smart enough for that,” he quips.
“No, be serious.” I lightly smack his arm. “Let’s say she did know…would she understand what you did? Or would she hate you for it?”
“She’d hate me,” he states plainly. “But the only people who know about that deal are you and your dad.”
My eyes cut over to him. “And you know for certain she wouldn’t have talked to my dad?”
He looks to me with fading concern. “Anything’s possible.” He nods. “But why would he tell her something like that? She could turn him in.”
“She is a Jameson,” I remind him. “I’m sure she doesn’t trust the cops any more than you do. Do you think he would have tried to use her to come after what’s left? To come after Jameson Automobiles? They could be allies.”
“All the more reason for us to talk to your dad,” he insists.
We finally manage to get our clothes back on, but only after stopping too many times to lose ourselves in each other’s mouths. I am alarmed by my never-ending desire for him. No matter how much of him I get, I just keep wanting more and more.
“What should I tell my mom?” I ask him as we begin the long drive back to my house.
“That you fell asleep on my couch,” he suggests.
“Good enough, I guess.” I huff. “She’s going to be pissed no matter what I say. That excuse is better than telling her anything that really happened today.”
“How are you feeling?” he asks, glancing across my arms.
“I guess like someone who just did heroin for the first time,” I grumble, realizing the effects of it faded long ago.
I still can’t believe what Lily and Vivian did to me, or that Emmett managed to fix it so fast. Everything that came after that is far from my mind. It vanished between our bodies at some point in the motel room, and I am in no hurry to revive any of it.
“Maybe we should skip school tomorrow,” Emmett suggests. “I can convince Principal Brown that you’re still not feeling well after what Vivian and Lily did to you, and that I’m taking care of you.”
“So, we can go back to your motel?” I ask longingly, with a dreamy tone of voice.
“Actually, so we can go see your dad.” He sighs. “I’m worried if we go to school, something else crazy will happen and set us back again. We need to get this out of the way. If your dad doesn’t have anything to do with Bernadette’s disappearance, we need to start planning what to do next.”
“Yeah…I guess you never know what’s going to happen whenever you step into WJ Prep,” I lament, feeling a dull ache of exhaustion growing between my eyes. “I’m not in any hurry to go see my dad, but whatever you think is best. I told you I’d help in any way I could.”
He takes my hand in his and raises it to his lips. “Thank you,” he says tenderly.
It’s hard to reconcile the different faces of Emmett at times. A few hours ago, he was triggering some of my worst memories and asking me to slap him in the face. Now, he is sweet and tender and driving me home like any other boyfriend would. I want to think his dark side if just a symptom of his upbringing, and now that his dad is gone, he will eventually heal and those things will fade. But I also want to accept the very real possibility that all of it is the real Emmett, and that I may not be able to get one without the other.
I told him I didn’t want easy, that I only wanted him. And today has put the truth of that to the test. But as he kisses me goodnight and tells me he will be back to pick me up in the morning, I know I’d make the same promise all over again.
Chapter Eleven
BOOK 2
The time has finally come, and I can’t put it off any longer. With my suspension from school lifted and Vivian and Lily seemingly scared into submission for the time being, we have to start getting some answers about Bernadette. Which means we have no choice but to go see my dad.
We drive to a small town outside of Jameson called Portville Bay. It’s a coastal fishery area with lots of white-haired men who look like they’re retired walking around. I hate how close it is to Jameson and wonder how long my father has been lingering so close by.
Theo is living in a modest house on the shore with a line of expensive boats tied out back. It’s not the sprawling mansion I expected, considering the fortune he has supposedly built back up, but I get the feeling he stays on the move a lot if the FBI really is after him like the police warned me.
But within those small walls, it doesn’t look like any expense was spared. We are greeted at the gate by one of the people working at the house and immediately taken around back to a lavish patio area you would never expect to see tucked behind this kind of house. Even with the fall chill and the even colder breeze blowing in off the water, we nestle into warm seats by an outdoor heater.
“Mr. Nickelson will join you in just a moment,” the man cordially informs us. “Is there anything I can get you while you wait?”
“What more could we need?” I joke as I look at the arrangement of snacks and drinks on the table, including an assortment of strange-looking milkshake drinks. “What are those?”
“They’re one of Mr. Nickelson’s favorites!” he beams in reply, looking way too happy about his job. “They’re a sort of spicy hot chocolate with alcohol.”
The man walks away as we take our seats at the table. I note the three alcoholic beverages and turn to Emmett. “He does know we’re teenagers, right?”
�
�You complaining?” he smirks as he takes one of the drinks into his hands. The liquid steams against the cold air as he puts it to his lips for a sip.
My stomach growls as I look over the assortment of fruit, vegetables, oysters, and crab legs. But after what happened with Vivian and Lily at school, I’m feeling oddly wary of consuming anything from people I don’t trust. And I definitely don’t trust my father.
I look over to the waves crashing against my father’s line of boats. They crash with an alarming intensity in front of a darkening sky. I can see the storm rolling in across the sea, and it does nothing to settle my uneasy nerves about being here. The boats rock helplessly against them, tied up tight enough that they can’t be swept away. What is keeping me tied up and safe from being swept away by the currents of these rich and powerful men who keep sucking me in? Emmett. My father. They’re more alike than I want to admit, and I can’t seem to escape either of them.
“Ophelia.” My father smiles half-heartedly as he appears through the sliding back door of his home. “So good to see you.”
My father has dark brown wavy hair that pokes out from under a straw fedora. It’s almost as dark as mine, but with touches of blonde against his paler skin, giving away that my Hispanic side comes entirely from my mother. He’s tall, like me. But my mannerisms are entirely from my mom. I am practical and to the point like her. That’s what makes him so charming. Dangerously deceptive. He can talk his way around anything to get you back where he wants you.
I want to say something smart ass back, but we are here for answers. No use getting on his bad side. And anyway, his tone is unconvincing. I am guessing he is not actually happy to see me at all.
“Good to see you again, Theo,” Emmett chimes in politely, half-standing to shake his hand.
I let out a sigh, seeing the two of them greet each other. A girl’s boyfriend and her father. Something you always hope goes well, but also something I’ve never experienced outside of Brendan. Of course, these two already know each other too well for my comfort. Emmett has probably talked to my own father more than I have, with the deal they made in the past.
