Engulfing Emma (The Men on Fire Series)

by Samantha Christy

  Brett: I don’t want to keep you. We both need sleep. Put your hand on the window.

  Me: Why?

  Brett: Just do it.

  I press my palm against the window. Then I see why he wanted me to do it. He presses his palm against his window. We may be fifty feet away, but I swear I can feel him.

  We gaze at each other for a long time. I feel a sense of loss when he takes his hand away.

  Brett: Goodnight, Emma.

  Me: Goodnight.

  We put our phones down, but neither of us walks away. Not until my eyelids grow so heavy, I have to sit down or risk falling. I’ve never wanted to stay awake more than I do right now. I touch the window one last time, then wave at him.

  He blows me a kiss.

  I’ve done nothing today but think about his kisses. His touches. His dirty talk.

  I go to bed knowing this is going to be a long couple of days.

  ~ ~ ~

  I stare at his front door. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’m meeting a two-year-old, not the Pope.

  Brett warned me Leo takes to men much easier than women. I don’t want to think about how it will affect our relationship if his son hates me. It’s been so long since I’ve had a toddler that I can’t remember how to act around them.

  Brett opens the door before I can ring the bell. His scent is the first thing I notice. For an entire week, I was surrounded by the heavenly smell that was a combination of rainforest and cinnamon. Oh, how I’ve missed that smell these past few days. It faded from my pillows even before I laundered them. And I realize just how long it’s been since we’ve been together in my bed.

  I take him in, perusing his crisp clean button-down shirt and gray linen pants. I tingle in anticipation of what will happen later tonight.

  He chuckles at my obvious ogling. “Hello to you, too Miss Lockhart.” He hugs me and whispers, “Just so you know, I’m going to spend the next few hours teasing you. By the time I get you into my bed, you’ll be so wet, you’ll be begging me to make you come.”

  Heat floods through me. I’m tempted to skip dinner and go straight for dessert. We part, and I look past him into the townhouse.

  He must see my hesitation. “It’ll be fine,” he says. He takes my hand and leads me inside. “Come in.”

  “I hope he likes what I brought him,” I say, second-guessing my choice. “It’s actually pretty stupid.”

  Brett glances at the bag in my hand. “That’s for Leo? I thought maybe you brought me a toy. You know, for later,” he says with a wink.

  “Stop it, Lieutenant.” I elbow him in the ribs.

  He laughs. “But it’s so much fun teasing you. And if you keep calling me Lieutenant, we just might have to skip dinner and go straight for dessert.”

  I smile at his words that mimicked my exact thoughts.

  The back door opens and someone small runs toward us. Leo stops in his tracks when he sees me. The smile on his face fades and he scurries behind Brett, holding onto his leg as he hides from me.

  Leo is gorgeous. He has messy dark blond hair that he obviously got from his mother, but the rest of his features are all Brett: his adorable nose that turns up slightly at the tip, his large green eyes, his strong jaw. This one is going to be a lady killer—I look up at Brett—just like his father.

  “It’s okay, buddy,” Brett tells him. “This is my friend, Emma.”

  Leo buries his head in Brett’s pant leg.

  A woman enters the room. She walks right over to me and I extend my hand. She ignores it and hugs me.

  “It’s wonderful to meet you, Emma,” she says, squeezing me tightly.

  “You too, Bonnie. I’ve heard great things about you. Brett says you’re amazing with Leo.”

  Leo hears his name and peeks at me from behind Brett.

  “They are the amazing ones. I don’t know what I’d do without my two boys.” She pulls back. “Can I get you anything? A bottle of water or a glass of wine?”

  I look at Brett for direction. I’m not sure how long he plans to stay here. He checks the time. “We have reservations at eight, so we have twenty minutes.”

  “Water would be wonderful, Bonnie. Thank you.”

  When she goes to the kitchen, the rest of us make our way to the couch. Or more precisely, I walk to the couch and Brett drags his son behind him.

  “Leo, can you say hello to Emma?” he asks.

  He shakes his head and climbs up on the couch to hide behind Brett.

  “Hello, Leo,” I say. “Your daddy told me all about you.” I put the gift bag on the coffee table. “I brought you something.”

  He doesn’t look interested.

  “Don’t you want to see what Emma brought you?” Brett asks.

  He shakes his head, still refusing to speak or look at me.

  “I’ll open it then,” Brett says. “But if it’s candy, I get to eat it.”

  Not even that veiled threat gets him to budge; he holds his ground at the far end of the couch.

  Brett opens the bag and pulls out the plastic donkey, turning it over and examining it in his hands.

  I could kick myself over my poor choice. I let Evelyn talk me into buying it as she thought it was hilarious.

  “It’s a … donkey?” Brett asks with a raise of an eyebrow.

  I’m suddenly very embarrassed to have brought him this cheap piece of plastic. But there’s not much I can do about it now, so I take it from him. “This isn’t just any donkey. He eats. And he … well, I’ll just have to show you.” Then I realize I forgot the most important part. “Oh, gosh. Please tell me you have Cheerios. Do you like Cheerios, Leo?”

  He hides again.

  “Leo loves Cheerios. Don’t you, bud?” Brett calls to the kitchen. “Bonnie, could you please bring a box of Cheerios with you?”

  She returns with a bottle of water and the cereal.

  “Thank you,” I say. I open the box and reach in for a handful. I turn to Leo. “Do you want to feed him?”

  He shakes his head and sinks into the couch.

  “Okay, I’ll do it.” I put Cheerios in the donkey’s mouth. It makes a burping noise.

  Brett laughs. “Isn’t that funny, Leo?”

  He isn’t amused.

  “What happens when he gets full?” Brett asks.

  “Well, you uh …” I’m sure my face is bright red. “You turn his tail around.”

  Brett looks at me in surprise.

  “I told you it was stupid.”

  He grabs the donkey’s tail, turns it, and the donkey lets out a “hee-haw” when a Cheerio comes out his ass.

  Brett laughs uncontrollably and turns the tail a few more times.

  Leo crawls out from behind him and tries it, but all the Cheerios must be gone because nothing comes out. I hold out my hand with some cereal in it. “You have to feed him first.”

  He looks at Brett, who gives him an encouraging nod, then takes Cheerios from my hand and puts them in the donkey’s mouth. He turns the tail and giggles when a Cheerio comes out, along with a “hee-haw.”

  “Poopy donkey,” he says as he fills and empties the toy over and over, eating the Cheerios as they emerge.

  Brett whispers, “My kid is eating donkey crap. Thanks, teach.”

  I smile every time Leo giggles. Then something amazing happens. Leo takes a piece of donkey crap and hands it to me. “Why, thank you. It’s so nice of you to share.” I pop the Cheerio into my mouth. I make a mental note to thank Evelyn.

  “And now my girlfriend is eating crap,” Brett says.

  “I think your daddy needs some,” I say to Leo.

  Leo gives the tail a few more turns. “Here, Daddy. Donkey poopy.”

  Then Leo gives some to Bonnie. And the four of us sit around the coffee table eating donkey poop until it’s time for us to go.

  On our way out, Leo hugs my leg, and I have to hold back a tear. I don’t want to do anything to scare him, like try and pick him up, so I ruffle his hair. “Bye, Leo. See you soon.”


  ~ ~ ~

  Everything about tonight has been amazing. I’m twenty-seven years old, yet I feel like this is the first date I’ve ever actually wanted to be on. Yes, I’ve been out lots of times with lots of guys. But only because that’s what adults do. They go on dates in search of the person they hope to end up with.

  Me—I didn’t have to do that. I had to get taken hostage in a storage closet.

  I shake my head thinking of all the time spent on needless dating rituals.

  I pick at my potatoes. “I’m glad Leo finally warmed up to me. I thought it was going to take a lot longer.”

  “You bought my kid a toy that craps Cheerios,” he says, laughing. “I think that makes you the coolest girlfriend ever.”

  “You have Evelyn to thank for that. She picked it out.”

  “Leo doesn’t know that. To him, you’ll always be the woman who gave him the pooping donkey. I bet we’ll still be talking about this when we’re old and gray.”

  I make a face.

  “What? You never thought of us in the long term?”

  “Brett, I just accepted the fact that you’re my boyfriend. You’ll have to give me a while to work up to old and gray.”

  “That’s bullshit,” he says. “When you know, you know.” He gestures between us. “This is happening, so you’d better get used to it.”

  “Can we at least pretend to go through the motions?” I ask, knowing that on some level, I’ve always felt the same way.

  He winks. “Oh, I plan on going through a lot of motions with you.”

  My heart skips a few beats when I think of being with him again. It’s been so long.

  I put down my fork and push my plate away.

  “You’re not done, are you?” Brett asks. “You still have half a steak left, and you haven’t touched the bread. Is everything okay?”

  I smooth the front of my dress knowing that I’m not necessarily stopping eating because I’m full. I just don’t want to feel stuffed and uncomfortable later when we’re together. And I might just be a little nervous, which is ridiculous considering we’ve had sex on numerous occasions. “The food is fabulous. I just don’t want to eat too much.”

  He gives me a scolding stare. “You mean you think you’ll look fat when we get naked later.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.” He laughs through his nose. “You forget I saw how much you can eat when we were in Germany. I know you can put away a lot more than this. Plus, I’ve seen you naked lots of times. You look amazing.”

  I smile and bite my lip.

  He leans over the table as much as he can without his shirt dipping into his peppercorn sauce. “I like that you’re thinking about us getting naked later. You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about that.”

  I shrug. “I don’t know, maybe I do.”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “Really? Now just how often do you think about it? All the time? Or only at night when you’re alone in bed?” He looks around to make sure no waiter is standing behind him. “Do you lie in bed and touch yourself when you think of me?”

  “I, uh …” I feel my cheeks flush.

  “The thought of you touching yourself is getting me hard. Shit, I have to get the check. You didn’t want dessert, did you?”

  I shake my head and think about the kind of dessert I really want. Heat courses through me and I reach out and wrap my hand around my glass of ice water. His eyes follow the movement of my hand and he smiles.

  He motions for the check and then stares me down. “How many orgasms do you want tonight, Emma?”

  I take a drink of wine, contemplating his question.

  “Give me a number,” he asks.

  “Two, I guess.”

  He looks disappointed with my answer. “I think we can do better than that.”

  “Okay, three.”

  “At the very least,” he says. He grabs my hand and runs his finger across my thumb. “How do you want them?”

  “How do I …” I can’t believe we’re having this conversation in the middle of a restaurant. “I don’t know, the normal way, I guess.”

  “The normal way? Maybe that’s good for the first one, but we need to think outside the box, Emma. What are your fantasies?”

  The waiter puts the check in front of Brett and looks at me with a smirk on his face. I think he must have heard Brett talking.

  I’m too worked up to even protest the fact that he’s paying the bill.

  The whole way home, he teases me. He whispers dirty words in my ear. He tells me what he wants to do with me. To me. By the time we get to his townhouse, I’m putty in his hands. I tingle with anticipation. I can feel the wetness between my legs.

  When he leads me inside and up the stairs, I realize Bonnie and Leo have gone to bed. I’m grateful I don’t have to walk past them, looking like a sappy, love-sick girl.

  The door to his bedroom barely closes when I jump him. He catches me, and we both laugh as I kiss him.

  “I could get used to this girlfriend thing,” he says, walking us to the bed.

  He puts me down, and I go right for his belt, unbuckling it before I almost rip the button off his pants.

  “What did they put in your steak?” he asks. “Because I need to bottle and sell it.”

  “Oh, come on. You can’t stand there and tell me you aren’t totally turned on after that dinner.”

  He chuckles, removing his shirt before pulling my sundress over my head. He grabs my breasts. “Sweetheart, there hasn’t been a single time I’ve been with you that I haven’t been turned on.”

  I drop his pants to the floor. “Think about what you just said.”

  “What?” he asks innocently. “So I was turned on by you even in the storage room. I told you, when you know, you know.”

  “You’re crazy,” I say, lowering his boxer briefs.

  “Crazy about you.”

  He draws in a sharp breath when I grab his penis. I run my hand along his hard shaft in long, slow strokes, then I dip my head and take him in my mouth.

  “Jesus,” he exclaims as I work my tongue around him.

  His hips do a lot of the work for me as he pushes himself in and out of my mouth. His grip on my breasts becomes firmer. More barbaric.

  “God, Emma,” he says, pulling out of my mouth before he lays me back on the bed and crawls up my body, taking my panties off along the way. “I want that, but right now, I need to be inside you.”

  We lock eyes as he glides inside me. Oh, the feeling. Was it always this good with him, or does being a couple somehow make it better?

  “You feel incredible,” he says in my ear. “I’m going to make you come like this. Then later, I’m going to lick you exactly how you like it. I know every part of your body like the back of my hand. I know you love me to suck on your clit and run my tongue around it in little circles.” He reaches between us and pinches one of my nipples. “I know you like it when I do this. You squeeze my cock with your tight little pussy when I do it.”

  Just when I think I can’t take anymore, he grabs one of my legs and puts it on his shoulder. Then he reaches beneath me and touches the pucker of my ass. “I know you love it when I sink my finger inside you right here.” He pushes his finger in, and I moan in pleasure. “I want every part of you, Emma. And tonight, I’m going to have it.”

  The feel of his finger inside me, and the promise of what else he has in store, has me biting my lip so I don’t yell when I come harder than he’s ever made me come. I can’t even think about the fact that this is just round one.

  He lets himself go right after I do, bracing himself on the bed while he rides out his orgasm. He collapses on me, sweaty and satiated.

  “Holy shit,” he says, pulling out and rolling to my side.

  “You can say that again.” I lean my head into the pillow enjoying the post-coital bliss.

  “Emma?” he says, his voice laced with concern.

  I open my eyes and look at him. �
�What is it?”

  “I, uh … Shit, I didn’t use a condom. I’m so sorry. I never expected to get so caught up that I’d forget. I—”

  I put my finger to his lips. “It’s okay, Brett. I’m on the pill. And I’ve never gone without using a condom. Not since I was fifteen anyway.”

  “Me either,” he says, relieved. “I mean, I didn’t with Amanda, but like I told you, I haven’t been with anyone but you since her.” He sits up. “You really aren’t mad?”

  “I’m really not mad.”

  A broad smile crosses his face. “Well, then, give me a few minutes to recharge, and we’ll go again.”

  I don’t need a few minutes, I’m ready to go again now. But I don’t tell him that, because lying next to him is almost as good as having him inside me.

  I look at the mirror on his wall. “I’m going to miss you leaving messages on my mirror.”

  “You are?”

  I nod.

  “Do you have any lipstick with you?”

  “In my purse,” I say, pointing to where I dropped it by his bedroom door.

  He gets out of bed and retrieves it, giving it to me so I can find the lipstick. I hold it out to him. “You’re going to leave yourself a message?” I say laughing.

  “Not exactly.” He straddles me and removes the top of the lipstick, then writes something on my chest as I squirm beneath him.

  I can’t see what he wrote. “What does it say?”

  He sits me up so I can see myself in his mirror. My heart grows when I read it.

  MINE

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Brett

  Evie: Who was that woman leaving your house?

  I go to the living room window and look across the street. Evie is sitting in her bedroom bay window.

  Me: That was my sister, Brianna. I told you about her.

  Evie: Okay.

  Me: You’re not spying on me, are you, squirt?

  Evie: No. It’s just that Mom is so happy. I’ve never seen her like this. I don’t want anything to ruin that.