Let Loose for Me

by Coffman, Georgia

  Seems like this is the place to be tonight, although I’d like to warn them the décor inside doesn’t make sense, and they should run away to something more orderly. I like order.

  I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

  Well, not nothing…

  A burp echoes into the evening air, and I immediately clamp my hand over my mouth, my cheeks on fire. I’m drunk, but not drunk enough to lose all sense of humiliation.

  I hear laughing—it sounds like Ty—but I don’t stick around to find out. Instead, I hide behind the nearest bush, crouching down like I’m playing hide-and-seek.

  “What are you doing?” Ty asks, still smiling widely, and offers his hand to help me up.

  “Go away. I’m hiding until everyone leaves.”

  “Em, come on.”

  “Everyone’s staring. That was so embarrassing.” I cover my eyes, as though me not seeing them will make it so they don’t see me.

  “No one even heard you burp.”

  I swat at him still trying to help me up. “They’re all staring. Oh my God, I’m about to vomit.”

  “That’ll probably make you feel better, actually.”

  I groan as another hint of vomit snakes up my throat.

  He chuckles at my misery, to which I sneer, “Don’t laugh at me, you prick. This is all your fault, anyway.”

  “My fault? Please, enlighten me.”

  “You’re the one who wanted to go out. To drag me out here.” I wave my hand toward the club, still crouched low.

  “Hmm… am I also the one who made you drink so much?”

  “Yes,” I whisper-scream. “You and your dance moves and all the touching. God.”

  I rub my temples, seething at his proximity. Seething that his eyes are so blue and bright. They’re brighter out here with the dark night surrounding us, like beacons of hope. Like a lighthouse to sailors lost at sea. I want to run to him, jump in his arms, and stare at his bright eyes while he has his way with me—again.

  I hate that.

  I gulp and try to stand but wobble when my heel gets stuck in the dirt.

  “Here, let me help.”

  “I don’t want your help,” I say weakly.

  “Fine.” He stands back with hands up in surrender and an arrogant smirk. “We already missed one Uber. Do you think you’ll be okay if I call another?”

  I let out a large exhale, my head spinning from all the vodka. Wiggling my foot some more, I try to break the heel free, when I start to fall back but catch myself on the bush in front of me. “Ow! Leaf cuts. So many leaf cuts.” I hold my hand and close my eyes, pretending I’m in my bed and this night is over.

  Ty takes hold of my hand and kisses the palm. “Why don’t you want my help? You’re stuck. Let me help you,” he pleads, his voice gruff and sincere.

  My face flushes as I recall our one night in Vegas. The one night I moaned at his touch, at his body against mine, his lips.

  I inhale his manly scent, and the smell wraps around my ovaries as he stares at me intensely. Like he’s asking for more than my permission to allow him to help me.

  Nothing’s ever simple with Ty. My life has been chaos since he entered it, and I like and hate it all the same.

  Why does he do this to me?

  I stare at his outstretched hand like it contains the answer, but there’s no map to figuring out Ty Alesana.

  No explanation for the turmoil in his eyes or why I want him to kiss me right now. To take over my whole body, right here on the sidewalk, with a crowd of people milling about.

  I gulp, knowing even in my drunken state that I shouldn’t want these things from him, but I place my hand in his, anyway.

  I’ll worry about the rest tomorrow.

  CHAPTER 31

  Ty

  After I thank the driver, I help Emma out of the car, but even in her stupor, she swats at me to get away from her. She does so lazily, like she has no control over them. “Let me help you, Em.”

  “Okay, I just need help to get up the stairs. There are a lot of them, like more than you think. You look at them and think, ‘They’re not that bad, only one flight,’ but there are really three flights.”

  I chuckle at her ramblings and place a hand on her elbow to lead her up to her place, the smell of wonton soup and fried rice wafting from the Chinese restaurant next door.

  She smacks my other hand trying to snake around her waist. “I said help me!”

  I chuckle more loudly. “I’m trying to, but you keep slapping me.”

  “You’re trying to feel me up, but I already told you, buddy boy, you don’t get any more of this.” She makes a show of moving her hand up and down with her eyes half-closed.

  “We’ll see.”

  She whips around, stumbling into my arms. Watching her swallow, I lick my lips and wish she wasn’t so drunk.

  I kick myself for not cutting her off.

  Because now this night ends with a small peck on her cheek, not naked and rolling around in her sheets.

  But she seemed like she was having a good time letting loose, and that’s all I really wanted. That’s the only thing I can offer her, anyway—a good time. That’s what I wanted in Vegas, and that’s what I wanted tonight.

  Mission accomplished.

  So why does my chest ache?

  She sharply inhales, staring at my lips. “No. We will not see… I’m not that kind of girl.”

  “I’m aware.”

  Her eyebrows furrow. “You’re aware of my breasts and ass. That’s all you know about me, really. You don’t know anything else.”

  “Then tell me more, Em.” I hold her tightly in place, her taller than me since she’s standing a couple steps higher.

  She swallows again, her eyelids fluttering as she leans into me with a soft sigh.

  “Tomorrow,” I whisper. “Now, let’s get you in your tiny pajama set that I’ll be dreaming about when I’m in bed alone later.” I grab her by the hand and lead her up the one flight of stairs—not three.

  She fumbles with her keys but finally gets the door open. Once inside, I lead her straight to her bedroom with ease like this is my apartment. I search for her pajamas but come up empty.

  When I was here before, the first thing I noticed was that her room is clean and modern. She’s organized, and I half expected her dresser drawers to be labeled, but they’re not. Everything is still tidy and put up, very unlike my own bedroom and apartment.

  When I turn around, my breath hitches, watching Emma step out of her dress.

  Her intense focus is on me, her lips parted, comfortable in only her black thong—my God.

  I clutch my chest as she reaches for the sinfully silky pajama set from underneath her pillow. Her breasts push together as she puts one foot into the leg of her shorts, then the other.

  She never takes her eyes off me, and I have to step backward, refusing to give in to my urges.

  She’s drunk. She’s obviously not thinking clearly, having wanted to shove me down the stairs earlier. Her hooded gaze remains on me as she ties the drawstring around her shorts, her chest bare.

  I desperately want to cup her breasts in each hand and push her up against the wall.

  Taking another step back, I hit her dresser, trying to control my rapid breathing, the way Emma teaches us in yoga. It’s ironic that she’s now the one to make me lose all basic functioning abilities.

  She pulls the thin tank over her head, then lets her hair free from her tight ponytail.

  As she walks toward me, I fight with my decency, my hard dick screaming as it strains against my jeans. I should’ve left already. What the hell was I thinking?

  What is she doing to me?

  She stops a foot from me, her hands on my chest. “Thank you for making sure I made it home safely,” she whispers, then leans up to kiss me softly on my lips.

  I stand frozen in place, then gulp down the knot in my throat, closing my eyes. “I’ll text you tomorrow, Em.”

  She nods hesitantly, fi
sting my shirt in both her hands before leaning her forehead against my chest.

  Wrapping my arms around her waist, my heart swells.

  I know I can’t have her. Not in the way she wants or deserves.

  I’m the wrong guy for that. I’m not the one to make her happy in the long run. That’s why the proposition I’ve been waiting to offer her doesn’t involve anything long term, no matter how badly I might start to want more.

  And she’s the kind of girl who’d make me want more.

  After a moment, she sighs, and I look down. Her eyes are closed. I carefully walk us to her bed and lay her down.

  “Sweet dreams, baby.”

  Before I pull away, her soft hands cup my face. Then her lips are on mine in a firm kiss. When she lies back down, she says softly, “Stay with me.”

  I nod, my strong exterior crumbling at the fragile words coming from her. Moving to the other side of the bed, I slide my jeans down, leaving my shirt and boxer briefs on.

  I crawl in next to her, pulling her back to my chest, and hold her. The first time I’ve ever held something so precious, so good, and I can sense the urge deep within me to ruin it.

  After Emma sighs a few more times, the nagging voice inside my head is the last thing I hear as I close my eyes.

  The voice insists I’m no good for her. I’ll end up hurting her—the last thing I want to do.

  But it’s what I’m good at.

  CHAPTER 32

  Emma

  I flip the protein pancakes, then shuffle the scrambled egg whites around the pan, doing my best to keep quiet. I don’t want to wake Ty up just yet.

  I had to peel myself off of him thirty minutes ago, not just because he was glued to me with his strong arms and legs wrapped around me like an octopus.

  But because I wanted to rip his shirt off and trace the tattoos lining his upper body with my tongue. I wanted to lick every square inch of his broad chest, shoulders, biceps, then bite him on the ass.

  What’s happened to me? I used to cover my eyes every time Kendall said the word penis as though she was showing me a picture of one. And now I want to bite Ty’s ass—my God!

  I shake my head and load the pancakes onto a plate, then empty the rest of the batter onto the pan to make a few extra, just in case. Not sure how much Ty eats, but he must eat a lot to keep his size.

  Reaching for my phone in my purse, I see Kendall’s texted and called me a few times to make sure I got home okay.

  The last text relieves me.

  Kendall: Really? Ty is more responsible than you are? He at least let me know you weren’t TAKEN. Thanks for nothing, skank!

  The next one says she’s staying with Sebastian. I should’ve assumed as much.

  As I flip the last of the pancakes, I consider telling her she should just move in with him already. I’m sure her parents won’t like it—they don’t like anything she does, given it’s different than all of their traditional and conservative principles—but what else is new? Plus, she’s thousands of miles away now, so they can’t really do much, anyway.

  Am I a bad influence? And I thought I was the responsible one.

  Hanging out with Ty has made me stupid.

  One of the many reasons I should go bang two pans together to wake him up and kick him out.

  But doing so would mean no morning action.

  Ty wouldn’t mind it, I’m sure, and I wouldn’t, either. But I’d get in too deep with him.

  It was one thing to hook up in Vegas. To be away on vacation and sleep with him. But it’s another thing entirely to do it in my bed. Where I sleep every night.

  Where I’ll constantly think about him.

  That’s too much… right?

  I poke at a pancake, deciding I need a little more time. Using my fork to cut it into pieces, I idly arrange them to fit like a puzzle before eating a few.

  “Are you going to save me some?” I turn my attention toward my room, a plate with steam rising in my hand. Ty leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed and a smirk the size of his large ego on his face.

  “You better be glad I cooked any for you at all.” I roll my eyes. “Besides, I didn’t think your lazy ass would ever wake up.”

  “I barely slept all night with you snoring next to me.”

  “I-I… don’t…” I open and close my mouth, my cheeks burning.

  He chuckles and pushes off the door. “What were you debating with yourself?”

  Confused, I set the plates on the counter, mostly so I don’t throw one at his knowing grin. “I don’t know what you mean.” I cross my arms.

  “Don’t think crossing your arms like that can really shield you from me.” He walks toward me, his shirt completely unbuttoned and briefs snug tightly around his obviously growing length. “Did it have to do with me?”

  “Not everything is about you, bucko.”

  “I think this is about me. I distinctly heard my name coming from your lips. Thinking about me, huh? First thing in the morning? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a strong case of Ty fever.” He winks, standing two feet from me.

  “You are so full of yourself. Which is why we’d never work.”

  He flinches, only slightly. It’s so quick I think I imagined it. I inwardly cringe, thinking my words might actually hurt him. Like I’m guilty of wrongdoing, no matter how true my words are.

  But showing his feelings reminds me of the other side of Ty. Of the one who held my hand on the way to the doctor and drew me a bath afterward.

  The side of him that makes me melt.

  Tilting his head, his smirk grows, if that was possible. “Who said anything about ‘working’? I don’t want work; I want play. And you need play. We could turn all this hate you feel for me into passion just like we did in Vegas.”

  He leans forward, mere inches from my face as I consider what he’s offering.

  Sex with no strings.

  Dropping my arms to my sides, my face falls. “I have no interest in being just another booty call you have on speed dial. Or being used. Or feeling dirty.”

  He leans in, sniffing my neck before brushing his lips against my exposed skin. His proximity, his words, his unbuttoned shirt—it all makes my toes curl.

  “What if I told you I’m here for you?”

  I let out a shaky breath, pushing against his chest weakly. “Seriously, you are the most arrogant person I know. I don’t know what I was thinking hooking up with you in the first place. You’re impossible.” I turn to the sink, ready to clean the pans, but he boxes me in with his large frame, both his hands on either side of me gripping the counter.

  He whispers in my ear, making the hairs on my neck stick up and my nipples harden at the feel of his hard chest against my back. “I can be all yours. Only to give you what you need.” He massages my shoulders. “I won’t sleep with anyone else.”

  “You’re going to be monogamous with a sex buddy? Is that a thing?”

  “What? They don’t teach casual sex in Alabama?”

  “Since when did me being from Alabama mean I’m closed off to the rest of the world?” I scoff.

  “I just like getting you riled up. You get this cute little vein that pops between your eyebrows.” He peers over my shoulder at me with a smile, which quickly disappears, the air between us shifting. He moves my loose hair over my shoulder, and I sigh, leaning into him. “For you, I’ll make an exception. I’ll be your monogamous sex buddy, if you’ll have me.”

  “Aren’t I special…” I let my head loll to the side, resting between his pec and shoulder, and he moves one hand to my neck, holding me there.

  He places a soft kiss on my shoulder. “You are. And I plan on showing you how special this can be between us. Just sex.” Kiss. “Pleasure.” Kiss. “Fucking bliss.”

  Before I can think better of it—or think at all—I turn in his arms and assault his mouth, my body on fire for him. Needy and near begging.

  Spreading his shirt fully open, I push him so his back is agai
nst the counter. He holds me flush against him, running his hands up my shirt where they stop on either side of my breasts.

  His thumbs draw circles in their place beside my breasts, driving me wild.

  I kiss him harder, needing his touch.

  Needing him.

  I dive my tongue into his mouth, massaging his, moaning against him and letting the vibrations reverberate between us.

  I feel his erection through his briefs against my stomach, and the need for him only grows. Just as I’m about to lead him toward the couch, his head jerks back. “What about Kendall and Seb? Are they here?”

  I shake my head and go back to kissing him, my arms wrapped tightly around his neck. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to consider what I’m doing.

  No matter how ridiculous this seems, I just want to do what feels right.

  And Ty feels right.

  He picks me up and wraps my legs around him, then carries me to the couch. He yanks my shorts and panties off in one quick motion before setting me down.

  I whimper as the cool breeze tickles my exposed wet heat.

  Tugging his boxers off, he chuckles. “Someone’s ready for some chocolate ice cream in their vanilla cone.”

  “This will go a lot better if you don’t talk.”

  “Right.” He pauses, then tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his smirk gone. “It’s just… you make me nervous.”

  I gulp, searching his expression for any sign that this was just another line. But it’s not. His bright blue eyes don’t hide much, just like my pale skin for me.

  I kiss him slowly, my hands holding his face. Then I remove my own top, and when I swipe my hair from my eyes, his length stares me in the face.

  His hard, impressive length.

  My shallow breaths fill the silence, our breakfast forgotten. Everything outside these walls forgotten.

  It’s just Ty.

  His strong body, abs, and large cock.

  I grip the latter, making him hiss.

  Peering up at him, I lick my lips and run my thumb over the tip.

  “Fucking hell.” He runs his hands over his head, his body tense.