by Eva Ashwood
He’s touching me right where I need him, but not enough. I need more.
“Reese! Please!” I gasp out.
A pleased smile curves his lips, and he finally pushes the fabric of my panties aside, dragging one thick finger through the slick arousal coating my folds.
“God, I love how wet you are. Did this start back at the restaurant?” He gives a low growl as he withdraws his hand and hooks my pants and panties, dragging them both down my legs in one swift movement. My flats slip off my feet, landing softly on the floor. “Have you been dying for this since then? Because I fucking have.”
“Yes,” I breathe, beyond lying or trying to play it cool at this point. Air dances across my flushed, exposed skin, drawing out goosebumps as I watch Reese toss my clothes on the floor. He reaches for the button and fly of his own pants, and I move quickly to whip my shirt off over my head, desperate to feel his skin against mine.
Reese kicks off his shoes, then discards his pants and boxer briefs, and when his shirt comes off, a low noise I’m sure I’ve never made before in my life sounds in my throat.
The green of his irises darkens as I reach out for him, trying to pull him back down onto the bed with me. “Not yet, Ems. I want to taste you. I need to make you come on my face.”
He grips his cock in one fist, squeezing like he’s trying to hold off the orgasm—to make himself last until he can slide inside me. A bead of precum slips from the tip and slides down his shaft toward his hand, and I bite my bottom lip so hard it hurts.
I want him inside me. Yesterday.
I’m about to scramble off the mattress and throw myself at him when he kneels on the floor at the foot of the bed, pushing me back down gently. His lips find my inner thigh, and a shockwave of sensations spreads out from the place where his skin meets mine.
He licks and sucks, bites and nibbles as he works his way upward, and I arch my back on a long moan when his tongue finally finds my clit.
“Fuck yes, baby. Moan for me,” he murmurs, burying his face deeper between my legs and devouring my pussy like he might never get another chance.
I want to tell him that’s not true. That he can do this any damn time he likes. That I want him to live between my legs, to never leave, to never stop doing the amazing things he’s doing.
But I can’t say any of that.
I can’t even fucking speak.
Noises that don’t resemble any kind of human speech fall from my lips as I toss my head back and forth, chasing the sensations at the same time I try to brace myself for them.
I’m about to come.
I can feel the orgasm gathering deep in my core, a monster about to be unleashed. It will tear me apart and put me back together again, and Reese will devour me the entire time, lapping up my cream.
He should.
It’s for him.
“God, yes, Ems. Come. Come for me.”
His command is muffled, almost unintelligible. But it doesn’t matter. I do what he says anyway, riding his face as waves of sensation spread through my body, filling me up all the way to the tips of my fingers.
I’m barely finished, tremors still wracking my body, when he surges to his feet.
Fuck. I thought he was hard before, but now his dick is so thick and hard it must be painful, the broad length a darker shade than the rest of his skin. He scoops up my legs under the knees, lifting my ass off the bed and positioning me right where he wants me.
And then he plunges inside.
My walls are so slick that there’s no pain as he drives in to the hilt, but my orgasm has made me tighter, and I clench hard around him at the sudden intrusion. His nostrils flare, and he lifts my legs even higher, spreading my knees wide as he begins to thrust into me.
Our fuck in the car was slow and deep. This?
This is hard and fast and desperate, as if he pushed himself beyond what his self-restraint could take and now he can’t hold himself back at all.
“Fuck, Reese! Yes! God, yes…”
My eyes are rolling back in my head, the sensations rolling over me like a tidal wave.
“Up here, Ems.” His voice is broken up by harsh breaths as he continues to pound into me. “Watch me. Don’t take your eyes off me.”
I blink, struggling to keep my drooping eyelids open as I gaze up at his face, taking in every detail of his features. His face is tight, his jaw clenched as he holds my legs up, pistoning his hips as he drives deeper and deeper inside me. He looks masculine and strong, and I feel small and wanton as he grips my legs tightly, keeping my body right where he wants it.
I’m splayed out, only my upper body still resting on the bed. My breasts bounce with the force of his thrusts, and when I reach up to massage the aching flesh, tweaking and rolling my nipples, Reese makes a noise in his throat.
His chiseled abs contract tightly as he bends his knees a little, giving him a better angle—and he hits a place inside me that makes my toes curl and my mouth drop open in a scream.
“Reese! I’m gonna… oh, fuck, I’m gonna…”
Before I can get the words out, it happens. A second orgasm tears through me, stealing my breath, stealing my sanity.
Reese shifts his grip on me, holding me under the ass as he slows his pace, drawing out each deep thrust. My legs wrap around his waist, and I swear I can feel him everywhere as his cock thickens and swells inside me.
Then he stops entirely, burying himself as deep as he can go and grinding his hips against mine as he comes hard. I can feel his body shaking, his muscles tensing with every wave of his release.
I’m breathless, covered in a sheen of sweat, and limp as a noodle. Reese is panting just as hard as I am, and when he looks down at me with a charming, roguish grin, my heart flutters in my chest.
For a moment, we exist in this happy, sated little bubble. Then a quiet noise from outside the room catches my ear, and my gaze shifts to the door.
Oh fuck.
We didn’t close it when we burst into the bedroom, too lost in each other and our desperate need.
And while we were busy having loud, wild sex, one of the other Icons must’ve gotten home.
He heard everything.
It’s not like this is supposed to be a secret. Just last night, they all agreed to let me explore things with each of them. But I can’t help but wonder what whoever is out there in the living room is thinking right now.
And I can’t help but wish he would’ve come in and joined us.
10
Trent
“Reese! I’m gonna… oh, fuck, I’m gonna…”
I grit my teeth, digging my pen into the paper harder than necessary as I take notes in my Comparative Politics class. I’m barely absorbing anything Professor Simms is saying. Instead, the sound of Emma’s breathless scream keeps echoing in my head.
It’s been a few days since I came home from class and heard her and Reese fucking in his room. We’ve all been busy trying to untangle the fucking mess Leslie made of our online lives, and I’ve been grateful to have something to focus on.
Something besides how badly I want to punch Reese in the fucking mouth, that is.
We’ve been friends for years, and I can admit I’m glad Emma has more people than just me on her team. It’s good to know that both West and Reese would go to bat for her in any circumstances. But that doesn’t mean I’m thrilled with either of them laying a fucking hand on her.
And fuck. The way she sounded…
Her breathless groans left me hard as a fucking rock. I stood in the living room, unable to budge from the spot as I listened to the sounds of her falling apart. Half of me wanted to step inside the room and… hell, I don’t even know what I would’ve done. But I wanted to make her scream like that. I wanted to shuck my clothes, pull her from Reese’s arms, and prove to them both that I could make her feel just as good.
Of course, I didn’t do anything. Just stood there listening to one of my best friends fuck the girl of my dreams like a goddamn perv. But I meant what
I said to Emma about letting this be her choice, and I’d die before I break another promise to her.
Everything is about her now. What she needs. What she wants.
More than anything, I want Emma to be happy.
“And that brings us back to the fundamental question. Why are some countries democratic while others become dictatorships? What are the determining factors?” Professor Simms asks, turning around to survey the class as he speaks.
As he does, I realize I completely stopped writing several minutes ago, lost in my own thoughts.
Fuck. I hope he didn’t say any important shit.
Reese and West aren’t in this class, which is actually sort of a relief. Things are tense between all of us, and even though we’re keeping our shit together for Emma, I can feel it every time we’re in a room together. I don’t know quite how this is going to go down—when Emma finally makes her choice, I know we’ll all respect it. But damn, it would be hard as hell to watch one of my friends get to be with Emma every day and still remain friends with him.
My stomach twists, and my pen jabs through the sheet of paper I was writing on.
Fuck.
I can’t let myself worry about that kind of shit right now. That’s something we’ll deal with in the future. For the time being, the three of us are still a united front, joined together by the common cause of protecting Ems from the crazy cunt who’s painted a target on her back.
Shaking my head, I tune back in to what Professor Simms is saying, managing to stay somewhat focused on class for the remainder of the hour. My notes are shit, a garbled mess of words in illegible handwriting, but whatever. It’s still early in the semester; there’ll be plenty of time to get caught up later.
As soon as class lets out, I’m the first out the door. That was my last class of the day, and I’m glad as hell that I don’t have to try to muster up interest in another boring lecture until tomorrow.
Heading across campus, I find my gaze straying back and forth to take in the people around me, unconsciously looking for a head of blonde hair.
She’s not here, asshole. Remember? You’re the one who made sure of that.
Guilt tightens my chest, making it hard to breathe, and I grit my teeth. After spending a semester going to school with Emma, it’s still an ingrained habit to look for her on campus. But she’s not here.
She’s actually at her new job today, which is a good thing. She’s been downplaying it a little, but I can tell she’s happy to have something productive to do with her days, and although it doesn’t alleviate any of my guilt, it makes me happy to see her excited and energized.
As I head toward my car, my phone vibrates in my pocket. When I pull it out, I can’t help the shit-eating grin that spreads across my face.
Speak of the devil. Or the angel.
Emma’s name flashes across my screen, and I quickly swipe to answer it, raising it to my ear.
“Hey, Ems. How’s your first day on the job been?”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s been great. I’m surprised she managed to get hired at all after the tweaks I made to her resume.”
The smug drawl sets my teeth on edge, and I grip the phone so hard it’s a miracle it doesn’t shatter.
“Leslie. What the fuck do you want?”
Shit. Whatever she did to make it seem like Emma’s dad had texted her at the police station that night, she must’ve done the same thing to me. I’m fucking positive the contact name said “Emma” before I answered.
“So much hostility.” Leslie laughs. “You should think about taking up meditation or something, Trent. All that anger can’t be good for you.”
“What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Want?”
I speak each word slowly and clearly. I’ve stopped in my tracks, allowing the flow of students to continue around me as I focus on the phone. My mind starts churning, trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces. Why the hell is Leslie calling me? How is she calling me? Is she still in the facility? We’d know if she had been released, so she must be.
“You’re so touchy.” She laughs again. “You know, Trent, I think we could’ve gotten along very well, if you hadn’t decided to take Emma’s side. Why would you do that, anyway? You know what she planned to do to you all, right?”
My free hand curls into a fist. I’ve always been opposed to violence against women, but if Leslie were here right now, I’d be hard pressed not to fucking deck her.
“Yeah, I do know. And it’s better than we fucking deserved,” I growl.
“Well, then I don’t know why you’re so pissed at me for making sure you got what you deserved,” she shoots back, a teasing lilt to her voice. “I just made sure Emma got what was coming to her too. After all the lying she did, playing both sides for so long? She fucked with you all, and you were too blind to see it.”
“Yeah?” I start walking again, my long strides eating up chunks of ground. I’m half tempted to drive over to the facility Leslie is being held at right now and have this conversation face to face. “You think if I’d just been smart enough to see what Emma was doing I would’ve picked you, is that it? That me or Reese or West—or hell, all three of us—would’ve fallen for you once you made sure things were over between us and Ems? Well, let me tell you something, sweetheart. You’re not even a fraction of the woman she is, and you never fucking will be.”
There’s a moment of silence on the other end, and when Leslie speaks again, all humor is gone from her voice. “You’re an asshole. I used to think Emma didn’t deserve you. But maybe you all deserve each other.”
“No.” My tone is deadly serious. “I don’t deserve her. But I’m doing everything I can to change that. Including taking your ass down. There’s not a single thing in the world I want more than to deserve someone like Emma Holloway.”
There’s silence again for several long beats. And then the line goes dead.
I pull the phone away from my ear, glancing at it. Yup, sure enough—the contact that shows up on the screen makes it look like Emma just called me. Leslie must’ve known I wouldn’t pick up if I had any clue it was her.
What the hell did she want? Why did she call?
I take some grim satisfaction in knowing that whatever she called for, I don’t think she got it. She sounded pissed the last time she spoke, and there was something petulant in her silence before she hung up. Maybe she was still hoping for some insane reason that if she called me, she could talk me into being on her side, somehow turn me against Emma and my best friends.
Yeah. Nice fucking try, you bitch. That’s never gonna happen.
A sudden sense of purpose floods me, and when I reach my car, I hop in quickly and crank the key in the ignition.
I still don’t know exactly how to keep Emma safe from that crazy hacker, although I’m doing everything I can. But I meant what I told Leslie. The singular focus of my life right now is making sure Ems is taken care of. Trying to make amends for what I did in the past. Trying to deserve her.
There are more ways I can do that than just by protecting her. And I know just where to start.
It’s just a little after three o’clock, so I know where Paul Holloway will be. I punch in the name of his company on my phone and let the maps app pull up directions. It’s only about a twenty minute drive, and I use that time to get my thoughts in order. There’s a chance what I’m doing could backfire, but I need to take that risk. My vendetta against Emma affected more than just her life, and I can’t let that stand any longer.
When I reach the offices of the Wex-Tech Corporation, I park and head inside. A middle-aged woman greets me at the front desk and points me toward Paul’s office. Giving her a curt nod, I head in that direction.
He’s on the phone when I arrive. The door to his office is open, and his eyebrows raise slightly when he sees me standing in the threshold. After wrapping up his call quickly, he gestures me inside, a slightly concerned look on his face.
“Trent. Come on in. What are you doing here? Is everythi
ng okay with Emma?” He shakes his head. “I knew I should’ve insisted she stay with me. All this business with the hacker, it’s too much—”
“No, Mr. Holloway. Paul.” I hold up a hand. “That’s not what I’m here about. Well, not directly anyway. The situation with Leslie is getting sorted out, and Reese, West, and I will do whatever it takes to keep Emma from getting hurt by any of it.”
The intensity of my tone seems to startle him a little. He leans back in his chair, resting his elbows on the arm rest as he regards me.
I honestly have no idea what Paul Holloway thinks of me. I know I was a fucking asshole the night he and my mom took me and Emma out to tell us about their relationship. Mom was pissed as shit at me for that, which she had every right to be—but she’s my flesh and blood, so forgiveness comes easier for her. Paul? He probably still thinks I’m an asshole, although I’m sure for my mom’s sake, he’s tried to give me the benefit of the doubt.
But I don’t think he’s ever had any idea of the depths of my feelings for his daughter.
Now isn’t the time or place to get into all of that with him, and I don’t want to make things harder for Ems by saying too much. She’ll tell him what she wants him to know when she wants him to know it, and I’m not going to spill her secrets.
I am gonna make sure her dad knows she’s got people in her corner though.
“My mom told me the two of you split up,” I say, and Paul stiffens at my words. A flash of pain cuts across his features before he puts on a neutral expression again.
“Yes, that’s—that’s right. Just for the time being, I hope. I really do care about her, but with everything Emma’s gone through, with getting kicked out of Clearwater and now this whole hacking business… I felt like I needed to make her my priority. To be there for her if she needed me.”
I can hear the truth in his words, and self-loathing roils my gut. This man loves his daughter. He’d do anything for her, and I’m positive if he knew all the shit my friends and I put her through, both in high school and more recently, I wouldn’t have even made it inside the building to have this conversation with him.
