––––––––
The afternoon sun warmed his face as he relaxed on the picnic blanket. Voices carried over the soft breeze as people wandered across the grass. The dog appeared quite happy to learn there was a park so close to her new home.
Emma sighed. “I’ve been thinking we should put signs up with Marla’s picture in case her real owners are looking for her.”
Riley watched as Emma played a slow game of toss with the dog, which was now called Marla. They’d left their number with the local vets and pet store, but hadn’t heard anything. “That’s probably the right thing to do.” But imagining someone taking the cuddly brown animal away wasn’t easy. One sign should do the trick, one sign, hung upside down on a payphone, by the far East Side.
“Marla, fetch!” she tossed the pink tennis ball from where she sat on the grass. Everything the dog owned was pink, which made the morning walks a test of masculine security. But Emma was happy and, strangely, that made him happy.
“I don’t see what was wrong with the name Stimpy.”
“Stimpy was ugly.”
“And you named her Marla after...”
“Marla Hooch from League of Their Own,” she mumbled.
“Oh, and she was a looker.”
“Shut up. Her name is Marla.”
He grinned.
There were so many hidden parts of Central Park. It was nice to take the time to enjoy the open space. Having a dog gave them an excuse to lounge around in the grass and sun and still believe they were accomplishing something, because dogs needed exercise.
“My sister comes back tomorrow.”
“I know. She’s going to freak out when she finds out we have a dog.”
He worried Emma might forget about him when Rarity returned. “Do you think things will be different when she comes home?”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged, trying not to appear overly concerned. “I don’t know. Us hanging out, you and Rarity doing your thing.”
“We could all hang out together.”
“Sure,” he agreed, but that wasn’t the same.
Once Rarity returned, Emma would have her best friend around for all her little adventures and feats. She’d confide in Rarity and sooner or later he’d just be the roommate again.
Marla returned, dropped the saturated ball on the grass, and collapsed beside them. Emma filled a tiny pink travel bowl with bottled water.
“There you go, baby.”
The dog panted and lapped up the entire offering then nestled beside them on the quilt.
He eased back and made a pillow of the dog and Emma did the same. Clouds drifted overhead and there was a quiet moment of peace shared between the three of them.
“That one looks like a sailboat.” She pointed to the sky.
“This is what our conversations have reduced to, cloud watching?”
Nose wrinkled, she grouched, “What’s wrong with cloud watching?”
“Nothing. It just means we have nothing else in common to talk about. It’s sad really, the death of intrigue between new friends.”
“Aren’t you in a dark mood.”
“No, I’m not. I’d just prefer more stimulating conversation than ‘Oh, that one looks like a dinosaur’.”
“Fine. What’s your greatest fear,” she asked and he grinned at the challenge.
“Ice age. Era not movie.”
“An ice age, really?”
“Yes, really. And don’t roll your eyes. More are coming. They decapitate mountains and cover the earth in sheets of ice eight times the height of the Empire State Building. You’d never survive one.”
She laughed. “And you would?”
“I’d have a better shot than you. It’s just the nature of the beast. I’m a survivor. You’d be in a heap on the floor watching Hugh Grant movies while hugging a pillow.”
She smacked his arm. “I should probably be insulted.”
“But?”
“You’re probably right.”
He chuckled. “Now, a zombie apocalypse, that you might have a shot at surviving.”
“Because it’s totally improbable?”
“Oh, zombies are real and when they come, I’ll be ready. Get yourself a crossbow and some sturdy boots and I might let you join my regiment.”
“You’re a moron.”
He faced her. “What’s your biggest fear?” Her eyes were closed, the sun painting her cheeks in a soft gold hue.
“That I’ll never be enough.”
His brow creased. She’d lost him. “Enough for what?”
“Someone’s love... trust, loyalty... everything that’s worth anything. I want to be worth something.”
“You are.” He scowled. How could she believe she was worthless?
“I mean, by just being myself. I’m so tired of pushing to be more than I actually am. We have to be so much. It’s a lot of pressure and I always feel like I’m coming up short no matter how hard I try. I wish it was enough to just be me.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You’re afraid of zombies and ice ages.”
“Touché.” He studied her for a long moment. “I think you’re just fine the way you are, Em.”
“It’s only natural to want to improve.”
“True, but work with what you got. Don’t go trying to redefine everything you are. You’re an awesome person. If you change too much, people will miss the real Emma and she’s something great.”
She turned and their eyes locked. Something tightened low in his gut as everything inside of him insisted he look away, but he was trapped there, under her close, compelling stare. The breeze passed overhead, intensifying the scent of grass and her delicately perfumed hair. She always smelled so clean, like cotton and sunshine.
“Are you hungry?” she whispered, but her eyes seemed to be saying something different.
He swallowed. “Yeah. I could eat.”
“We should eat.”
The sudden urge to lean close and take a nibble of her plump lower lip took hold of him and he jolted upright, his body sending all sorts of haywire signals to his lower regions. Shit.
Where the hell were these urges coming from? Rubbing his face roughly with his palms, he groaned and thought of the unsexiest place to get food in the city. “Wanna go to Flushing and grab some Chinese? They sell gizzards on sticks.”
“Queens?”
“Yeah.”
“Sure. But I’m not eating gizzard.” She sat up and the dog lifted her head. “We should probably take Marla back to the loft first. She’s tired.”
Nodding, he stood and busied himself with gathering the blanket and dog toys. Emma fumbled with getting her shoes on and he stilled, transfixed by her pudgy little toes.
Dear God, he was chubbing up—chubbing up over Emma—which was abso-freaking-lutely not okay. Turning away, he stuffed anything and everything into their bag.
As soon as he had their stuff packed he started walking at a clipped pace toward home.
“Riley, wait up. I have shorter legs than you.”
He shut his eyes as his mind filled with images of her little, curvy legs. Christ, even the thought of her deformed baby toe was doing things to him.
“I have to use the bathroom,” he lied, deciding that was the best excuse for walking ahead of her.
“Are you sick?”
His mind was definitely playing sick tricks on him at the moment. “Yes. Sick.”
“Okay, well, you go. Marla and I will catch up,” she yelled from several yards behind.
He didn’t need any more encouragement. The entire way home he jockeyed his way through crowds of pedestrians and practically sprinted over crosswalks and through alleyways. What the hell was wrong with him?
It was like a switch was flipped and he could no longer separate Emma his friend from Emma the delicious little cupcake he wanted to nibble. When he made it to the loft he tossed the bag of dog toys on the floor and went to the bathroom.
Staring at his sweaty reflection, he grit his teeth. “Knock it off.”
His breathing gradually slowed as he stared at himself, degrading every baser instinct he possessed until the storm finally settled and he was back to normal. Then the front door opened.
“Riley?”
His gaze dropped to his jeans. “Damn it,” he hissed. “In the bathroom.” He quickly locked the door.
The dog’s nails scrabbled along the wood floor. He couldn’t go out there like this. Emma tapped on the door. “Do you need anything?”
His eyes closed as his head fell back and he silently groaned. “No. I’m good.”
“You’re sure? I have antacids and some stuff for cramps.”
He laughed without humor. “No, I think I’ll be okay.” His dick just needed to chill.
“How about some tea?” That voice... “I can put some ginger in it—”
“I’m okay, Emma! Just...give me a minute. Please.” He shouldn’t have snapped.
“Okay. I’m right here if you need anything.”
Did she have to be so damn nice? Maybe a cold shower would help. Swallowing, he let out a long breath and turned on the water. After stripping off his clothes he climbed under the icy spray and gasped. “Fuck, that’s cold!”
He adjusted the taps, unable to withstand torture below a lukewarm seventy degrees, and glowered at his rock hard cock.
Grandma. Grandma in a bikini. Grandma in a bikini eating tapioca pudding without her dentures. That was working.
Suddenly the image flipped to smooth ivory skin and a familiar birthmark in the shape of a strawberry. That was Emma’s birthmark. He noticed it when she was in a tank top. Sometimes her bra strap covered it, but every once in a while he’d get a peek at it.
Fuck. He was hard again.
Taking matters into hand, he pumped his fingers over his flesh. He needed to get laid, that was all. He squeezed, almost painfully, trying to think of any woman besides Emma. It was impossible.
Soft, blonde curls that smelled like summer wind clouded his mind. Those naturally pink lips, pert and smooth. Those big brown eyes so full of trust and innocence. He imagined all of it, damn him.
He violated their friendship so severely in those passing seconds, imagining his fingers knotting in her hair as those full lips closed over his flesh, those big, virtuous eyes staring up at him.
He cursed, bracing his arm on the slick tile of the wall as his release shot from his pulsing veins and his entire body shuddered under the force of temporary relief. Panting hard, he tried to remember a time he was that turned on. It didn’t matter that he’d masturbated to completion. He was still twisted in knots, raring to go. He wanted her. “Fuck!”
Rinsing off, he stood in the cooling steam a while after he shut off the water, shivering. Mind over matter. Whatever this was, it would pass. He’d ignore it, because Emma was his friend and he didn’t want to ruin that. Plus, if he crossed that line his sister would castrate him. Yes, there would be absolutely no fornicating with Emma.
He’d been in the bathroom for an embarrassingly long time, which worked in his favor. Explosive diarrhea—imagined or otherwise—was about as far from sexy as one could get.
Climbing back into his clothes, he buffed his hair dry with the towel, and prepared to face the music. Cautiously, he turned the knob and stepped in the hall.
She stood up from the couch. “Are you okay? You were in there a really long time.”
His heart pounded and his blood thickened. There was no hope. “I’m...sort of having a problem right now.” It was unbelievable. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Why now? They were fine an hour ago.
Noticing his discomfort, she took a step forward.
He held out a hand. “Stay back! It might be contagious.”
“Do you need a doctor? Something from the pharmacy?”
His hand trembled. “Just...stop. For the love of God, stop...talking.”
Taken aback, she stilled and he regretted his choice of words, as her expression turned wounded. “I’m only trying to help.”
“I know.” He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, facing the wall so she wouldn’t notice his situation. “That’s the problem.”
She scoffed. “Fine. I won’t help.”
Glancing to his left, he tried to say something, but his words got distracted when he looked at her. She no longer wore shoes. The bottom of her thighs peeked out beneath her little white dress. He could have a hundred fantasies about that tiny dimple above her knee.
Jesus, what was wrong with him? Taking a deep breath, he pulled his attention away from her legs.
His mouth went dry as his stare focused on her breasts. Soft and round. He bet her nipples were the same deep peach as her lips. Oh, and what color would her other hidden parts be? He swayed as dizziness came over him.
“Riley?”
Shit. He was going to explode if he didn’t get out of there. “Emma...”
She took a few quick steps toward him. “Are you sure you don’t need a doctor? You’re sweating.” She tsked. “I’m calling the doctor.”
“Wait!” Trembling, he released a shaky breath. “I...” Forking his fingers through his hair, he squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m not sick.”
“Well, something’s wrong with you.”
“Definitely. Emma, don’t hate me...”
“Why would I hate you?”
She touched a hand to his arm and he whimpered. Giving up, he blurted, “I’m having really inappropriate thoughts about you right now and I can’t make them stop!”
Everything stilled. The apartment fell into utter silence, the ticking of the living room wall clock tapping with the subtlety of a hammer.
“What?” she croaked.
“I’m sorry. It came out of nowhere. I’m totally freaked out and trying not to think of you that way, but I can’t stop.”
When she didn’t respond, he chanced a glance at her. Her breath was labored, but slow, each pull of air lifting her breasts against the cotton fabric of her dress. He looked away.
“You’re...having fantasies? About me?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Like what? Maybe we should talk about it.”
He really wanted to undo the top button of his jeans, get some breathing room. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why? We’re adults. We’re friends. We can talk about...that.”
Visions of holding her plush thighs open as he dragged his tongue up her pink flesh filled his mind. “No,” he said, voice strained. “Talking would definitely be bad.”
She tsked and laced her fingers with his, tugging him toward the living room. “Don’t be silly, Riley.” A thousand volts of electricity shot up his arm as she pulled. “Come sit down and—”
He yanked her back and pinned her to the wall. “You’re not listening, Emma. I don’t want to talk.” He ground his hips into her soft belly and she gasped. “Feel that? That’s what talking to you did to me. I’m telling you, I think we should put some distance between us until things settle down and go back to normal.”
Her gentle brown eyes went wide as she stared up at him. Slowly, she licked her lips. “Riley,” she rasped.
He groaned. His name on her lips was an unfinished caress that ended in private pain. She didn’t understand the affect she was suddenly having on him. “Emma, you don’t—”
“You’re turning me on.”
Every good intention vanished. Nostrils flared, he breathed in her feminine scent. “What?”
Her lips parted as she breathed, staring up at him with dark, lust filled eyes. “I’m aroused. The moment you said you were thinking about me that way, my body just—” His mouth crashed over hers, silencing her ramblings as he stabbed his tongue deep between her lips and tasted heaven.
Sweet, like coconut, her kisses were the perfect blend of temperance and lust. She gripped the side of his face, pulling him closer and he growled, unable to get enough. They were frantic, unstoppable, raw, desperate. No kiss had ever been so frenzied.
Her small form cushioned his body as he pressed her into the wall. Frantic need took hold of him, burning hot and fast like brushfire. Everything inside of him demanded he move and move fast.
“Let me take you to bed,” he whispered over her lips, giving voice to everything he wanted in that moment.
“Yes.” Her fist tightened in his hair. “Please.”
Her legs lifted to his hips and he cupped her sweet little ass, excitement tunneling through his veins. Oh, he and that ass were going to be good friends by the end of the night. Her mouth detoured to his neck as he toddled them to his room. Opening the door he frowned at the clutter.
Recalling her crisply made bed, he pivoted and headed to her bedroom, not stopping until he was dropping her on the floral comforter and catching his weight above her.
She smiled, her hair a wild spray of mad curls. God, she was beautiful.
“Are you sure about this? There’s no taking it back,” he warned. Please don’t ask me to stop.
Not a glimmer of concern showed in her eyes. Reaching down, she grabbed the hem of her dress and lifted until it slipped off her shoulders. “No going back now,” she whispered.
His breath caught in his throat. Emma was naked, naked and lying beneath him in nothing but her bra and undies. The intensity of the moment hit him and he froze. This was different from every other sexual encounter.
“Are you sure?” she asked when he hesitated too long.
Slowly nodding, he swallowed. There was no doubt he wanted her. The depth his wanting traveled frightened him. “Yeah. It’s just... You’re different, Emma. You’re important. I don’t want to ruin anything.”
Her smile was warm and comforting as she cupped a hand over his jaw. “You won’t ruin anything, Riley. I promise.”
He glanced down. She was lovely, like some sort of centerfold for vintage lingerie, in her plain Jane white cotton bra and panties. Something about the simplicity of her undergarments undid him. She was so no-frills, so unquestionably stunning in her own right, more delicate than any lace, and softer than any bow, she was the real thing.
His hands shook with the magnitude of the moment. Once he touched her body it could never be undone. He needed her to understand how important she was to him, that he never got this nervous with other women.
He tried for something romantic. “You take my breath away, Emma. I think you’re really...great.” Not quite what he imagined, but he wasn’t a poet.
Her face softened as her lashes swept low. “Riley... I’ve never been with anyone that knows me the way you do. This probably should feel weird, but I’m totally comfortable with you. I’m not afraid.”
She should be. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips into the wing of her collarbone and breathed. He was greedy for her scent, suddenly aware of how long he’d refused this desire silently building inside of him.
His hunger was so potent it seemed impossible that it stayed hidden for so long. Letting it out was the best feeling in the world.
She made the most girlie sigh as she arched into him, pressing her breasts against his chest. He wanted to feel her skin against his.
“Take off my shirt.”
Reaching for the hem of his T, she pulled, gathering the material until it lifted over his head and she tossed it away. Sliding an arm under her back, he raised her to him so they were chest to chest. Her heated flesh pressed to his in an intoxicating burn.
His mouth kissed down her shoulder as he dragged the strap of her bra away. Nestling his knees in the space between her legs, he took his time kissing the swell of her soft breasts and tracing the edge of her bra with his tongue.
Her breath turned sharp the more he teased, her hands needing his arms, as her tight nipples beaded against the cotton. They were lost in a rhythm so natural yet rare, every caress fueled their yearning, but never did they stumble, never did he overthink what he was doing. Instinct drove him like never before.
Her fingers sensually combed through his hair. Easing back, he looked at her, committed her image to memory, finding her the absolute definition of beauty. Hair tousled, cheeks rosy, lips parted, eyes dark with desire, she was suddenly a threat to all of his control.
She was stunning.
He pulled back the cups of her bra and two petite peach tinted nipples hardened. His body throbbed as his mouth watered. She was perfect.
Shoving the bra to her ribs, the straps slightly pinning her arms to her sides, he massaged her breasts, plumping them in his palms and rubbing the tips with his calloused thumbs. “Does that feel good?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“You have amazing tits, Emma.”
Her eyes flared and he wondered if he should have called them something else, something a bit more delicate. Breast wasn’t a word he typically said unless describing chicken. But they were tits and they were lush and full and he couldn’t quite think beyond getting them into his mouth at the moment.
“Are you uncomfortable? Do you want me to take off your bra?”
“No. I kind of like it like this.”
Appraising the way the garment held her arms in place he raised a brow. “Really?”
She nodded. He was fascinated by the steady rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed.
Scooting up her body, he moved his legs to the outside of her hips and unsnapped the top button of his jeans. Using both hands, he pinched her nipples. “Do you wanna see me?”
She licked her lips. “Yes.”
He pulled at the tips of her breasts, stretching her delicate nipples until they were dark and engorged. “Do you want me in your mouth, Emma?”
She swallowed, her breathing audible. A tinge of rose darkened her cheeks. Eyes wide, her lips parted as she gave a subtle nod and whispered, “Yes.”
Well, Christ. Releasing her nipples, he unzipped his jeans and wrapped his hand around his length. He pumped leisurely and slid a hand behind her neck until she was sitting up. “Open for me.”
Her lips parted and he eased the tip into her hot mouth. Sweet Jesus, the heat and suction was incredible. Innocent Emma’s sucking your dick.
He shivered and nearly exploded. Not wanting to overwhelm her, or himself, he made a few quick dips, and eased back.
Slithering down her body, he caught a pert nipple in his mouth and pulled. She nearly jackknifed off the bed, and he had to press her back down. “You like that?”
“Yes.” She panted as he moved to the other nipple, teasing and playing, flicking the tip with his tongue then nibbling and pulling until she cried out.
His hand slid over her panties and settled above the heated crease between her legs. Her arousal had left the cotton damp and he massaged her through the material as he sucked on her beautiful tits.
“Riley, please.”
“Please what?”
“I want more.”
Dirty, dirty girl. He chuckled, never expecting this sort of sexual verve from a girl like her. “I’m going to kiss you there, Emma. And I’m going to make you scream.”
“Oh, God.”
He slid lower, peeling her panties away with exquisite slowness. Distracted by the dimple at her knee, he spent a few moments kissing it. “Your legs turn me on.”
“They do?”
“Oh, yeah. Even your weird little toes. I wanna bite them.”
Dragging his palms up her outer thighs, he savored the last moment wondering if she’d be shaved, waxed, or soft with a natural nest of blonde curls.
Curls it was, neatly trimmed into a tidy strip of gold. He teased the fine tuft with the back of his knuckle and groaned.
Seeing her arms were still twisted in the bra, he pulled the material lower and freed her hands, leaving the cotton around her nipped waist. She had a great body. It wasn’t boyish or bony. It was petite, but womanly, all compact feminine curves, soft and rosy, swelling at all the right places, and responsive to his touch.
He bit the little pouch of softness below her belly button and she yipped in surprise. Nestling his nose against the soft patch of curls, he breathed her in, sharp and tempting, he couldn’t wait to taste her.
Sliding back, he parted her thighs and—soft shades of pink. It was everything he’d imagined. Something inside of him shifted. His desire melded with implications and responsibility.
So exposed, so vulnerable, he felt every ounce of trust she’d laid on him. He’d never forgive himself if he hurt her.
Reaching forward, he gently parted her folds and teased her sex. “Are you sure about this, Emma?” Crossing this line was bigger than perhaps either of them realized. “We can stop if you want. It doesn’t have to be weird.”
Her brow knit with confusion as she turned to her side, closing her legs and shutting him out. “You don’t have to go any further, Riley. It’s okay.”
Frowning at the dejected tone of her voice, he reached for her chin. “Hey, what are you talking about? I want you. I just want it to mean something if we do this and I don’t want you to regret anything.”
Her chin trembled as his words sunk in, relief evident in her eyes. Biting her lower lip, she whispered, “It means something.”
“Good.” Dragging a hand under her hair, he pulled her mouth to his and kissed her. Her warm body curved around his as his hands explored and teased.
She clung to him, arms wreathed around his neck, breasts smashed to his chest, as he eased her back and parted her thighs again. This time he wasn’t stopping.
Gliding his touch to her center, he gently slid a finger into her heat. She arched and breathed against his neck as he delved deep, swirling in and out.
“Riley,” she whispered as her grip tightened over his shoulders.
Easing her to the pillows beside him, he dragged his mouth down her throat to her breasts as he continued with his fingers. Soft mewing sighs filled the room as she crested and her sex contracted in what was likely the most delicate climax he’d ever witnessed.
He smirked. If that slight tremor was what she was used to, he was about to blow the doors off her house. Withdrawing his fingers, he brought them to his mouth and stole a taste. Heaven. Her eyes flared.
Leaning over, he kissed down her soft tummy and parted her thighs, exposing her sensitive pink folds, caressing gently as she trembled.
“Easy...” He lowered his mouth and she gasped.
Sliding his middle finger into her sex, he closed his lips over her and sucked as he thrust his finger, deep and firm. Her hands knotted in his hair as her knees curled around his shoulders. Those soft little cries transformed into breathless sobs as he drove her higher and higher.
Slipping another finger inside, he pressed deep as his mouth pulled tight, sucking her engorged bud hard, barely probing, and she shattered. Her cries broke like a wave of diamonds, shattering every bit of calm in a blinding display of beauty. Her body twisted in his grip as she came undone.
Tipping back her head, she cried out his name. He swallowed, finding her response indescribably sexy. Soft ringlets clung to her throat as dew coated her skin.
He licked at the perspiration between her breasts, pulling her onto him as he rolled to his back, wanting to hold her as she came back to earth. As she curled into him and shivered, he realized he needed to hold her as much as she needed to be held, perhaps more than he needed his own release.
Time passed in immeasurable beats where he simply kissed her ear and played with her hair. When her mouth pressed into his shoulder he knew she was coming back to him.
Her hand drifted over his abdomen and fit its way into his pants. He shifted, giving her room as her gentle fingers wrapped around his engorged flesh.
She fondled him for several moments, her head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world to touch him that way. Shutting his eyes, he luxuriated in the weight of her caress, the awareness that it was actually Emma’s hand making him tremble.
Releasing him, she shifted and kneeled between his legs. “Let’s take these off.” She smirked as she gave his jeans a gentle but firm tug.
He lifted as she stripped him. Tossing the pants to the floor, she settled between his knees and appraised his body. “You’re a big man, Riley.”
He grunted with amusement. What guy didn’t like hearing that?
Her dainty fingers curled around his flesh, burning in the most delicious way. “I’m not really good at this, so be patient, okay?”
Those eyes. They were his undoing. Unable to form words, he nodded and watched as she stared up at him. Her lips parted and she guided him deep. Wet heat closed around his flesh as his hips reflexively lifted.
She watched him as she lowered her mouth, gently taking more and more. His spine tingled and the soles of his feet prickled as fire rushed through his veins.
Gently brushing the hair away from her eyes, he simply stared as she sucked him off. The unintentional eroticism of her stare would haunt him forever. It wasn’t about making him come or taking him deep. It was about the connection, and he felt it more in that moment than he ever had with anyone else.
Her hand leisurely glided up and down beneath her lips. Saliva slicked her way as her motions turned bolder.
“That’s it, Emma. You’re doing amazing.”
His encouragement seemed to register as she tightened her grip and took him deeper. Her eyes closed and he immediately felt their connection sever.
“No.” He rubbed a finger down her cheek. “I like when you look at me.”
Her lashes lifted and her focus intensified. Deeper and deeper she took him, making him mad with need and lust. Her eyes sparkled as she watched him and he loved knowing she saw the moment he came apart, the moment she drove him to the edge of reason.
Not wanting to shock her, he nudged her back as his climax erupted. She was breathing roughly, her awe-struck gaze focused on his hand as he trembled through that moment of ecstasy. It was as if she’d never seen a man come before.
Reaching to the nightstand, he snagged a few tissues and hissed with lingering sensitivity as he quickly cleaned up the mess. Slightly self-conscious, he looked around the room, unsure what to do next. He was going to need a few minutes.
Chancing a glance at Emma, he sucked in a jagged breath. The sight of her sitting naked with that plain cotton bra still twisted around her waist hit him like a bolt of electricity. His insides tightened as a rush of excitement left him dizzy.
Her lips compressed in a tight smile. “I can’t believe we just did that.”
Fear snuffed out his excitement. “Are you sorry?”
Slowly, she shook her head. “No.”
Thank God. Relieved, he blew out a slow breath. “Do you have a condom? I’m going to need a few minutes, but...we should probably have one on hand.”
Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of rose than what she already wore. “I have some in my purse.”
“You travel with condoms?” This surprised him.
“I’m a new woman, Riley. You never know what the day might bring.” She laughed. “I’m also overly optimistic as the box hasn’t been opened.”
She climbed out of bed and he swatted her plump little ass. “You better bring that ass right back, because I’m far from done with you.”
Her smirk bloomed into a full smile, her upper teeth pressing into her full lower lip. “Okay.” She pulled the sheet free and wrapped it around her like a toga.
“Emma.”
She paused at the door. “Yeah.”
“Leave the sheet. You don’t need it.”
Her stare drilled into his as her smile froze. Carefully, she uncrossed her arms and let the covering fall away. Sweet, curvy hips jutted and nipped into a pert little waist as the sheet fluttered around her ankles. Her breasts hung like ripe fruit and he wanted to sip their nectar for days.
“You’re exquisite.”
Her gaze lowered to the floor as a flush worked its way down her throat. It wouldn’t always be this private in the loft, so it was fun taking advantage of their seclusion while they had it. As a matter of fact...
Riley followed her into the living room and snuck up behind her. She gasped when he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his naked body to hers from behind. Sighing, she relaxed into his hold as he kissed the back of her neck and he whispered, “I wanna fuck.”
She stilled and he worried his words had upset her. Pulling out of his grip, she turned and faced him. The flash of royal blue foil pinched between her fingers caught his eye.
She stepped back, sauntering deliberately, and lowered herself to the big chair in the living room. Draping one leg over the arm, she slid the ottoman out of the way with her foot, giving him a clear view of how aroused she was. “I’m all yours.”
His jaw literally loosened from its hinges. Who was this girl? Her breast bore the rosy mark of his stubble and her delicate folds were still swollen and wet from their play.
His body hardened as she raised her arms overhead and stretched. Her tits lifted, her nipples hardening and darkening as blood filled the tips.
He swallowed. He couldn’t blink. “You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you, Emma?”
She giggled. “Not usually.”
That made it even better. “Just with me?”
Her arms returned to rest on the chair. “Apparently.”
Things just got interesting. “Is there anything you won’t do?”
“I don’t know.”
He grinned, a breath of laughter slipping past his throat. “Let’s find out. Touch yourself.”
A mischievous smirk teased her lips. “Only if you do it too.”
Not even a question. He grabbed himself and stroked, watching as she traced a slow finger down the side of her breasts. “Touch yourself.”
Her hand stilled, her gaze dropping to where his hand deliberately stroked.
“Please,” he rasped.
Her fingers dragged over her belly and settled between her legs. She teased her outer lips.
“Is that how you masturbate?” he asked, still caressing his own flesh.
“I don’t really masturbate.”
“Liar. Use your fingers. Show me how you do it when you get off.”
She stilled for a moment and he worried the game was over. Too far? A second later her finger disappeared between her folds as her body arched and her head dropped back. Her lips parted as she breathed and that petite finger pumped in and out of her tight pink folds.
He strode to the chair, mesmerized. Standing beside her, he thickened under his own steady touch as she cupped her breasts, pinched her nipple, and continued to finger herself—graduating to the hottest girl he’d ever met.
Licking his dry lips, he touched her cheek and her eyes opened. She seemed to read the plea in his gaze and understand his need. Rolling to her knees, she bent over the back of the chair and parted her lips. He stepped forward and gradually fed himself deep into her hot mouth.
Those dark eyes widened as she moaned, long and needy, vibrating his flesh. He’d never seen a girl take so much pleasure from giving head. She sucked hard and he rose to his toes. “Don’t stop touching yourself.”
Her hand disappeared under her soft body. She moaned as he thrust in and out, gradually increasing his speed. It was so much pleasure and still not enough. Faster, he pumped his hips.
Her gaze remained soft as he touched her hair, scented her arousal. His hands cupped the back of her neck and he slowed, his thumbs tracing over her delicate jaw, as he pressed deeper. She took it, hummed, and begged for more.
“So fucking sexy, Emma.”
Her hand rubbed between her legs as her gaze appeared drunk with lust.
“Make yourself come. Are you a dirty girl? Or are you a good girl?” The more he spoke the more excited she got. “Keep going until you come, dirty girl.”
Two seconds later her body quaked as her eyes closed. Releasing him, she cried out her self-induced orgasm. It was easily the hottest display he’d ever witnessed. So sexy, he had to pinch off his own release at the sound of her climax.
Enough.
Rounding the chair, he snatched up the condom and tore it open with his teeth, gliding it over his engorged flesh. He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off the chair. As tempting as nailing that alluring ass from behind was, he wanted to look into those eyes some more.
He carried her back to her room and dropped her on the bed. Pulling both ankles, he centered her on the mattress and climbed over her. “Ready?”
“Ready,” she rasped, face soft with sated lust and endless temptation.
He caught his weight on his palms and lined his body up with hers, drew in one last breath, and thrust. His eyes momentarily shut in intense bliss. There would be absolutely no going back now. He slid deep, not stopping until her pelvis kissed his.
She whimpered and his eyes quickly opened.
“You okay?”
Blinking, she swallowed. “You’re bigger than...what I’m used to.”
His ego selfishly swelled. “Do you wanna stop?” Please, God, no.
The briefest shake of her head told him to hold tight. He should have eased back a little, but he couldn’t. She fit him like a glove. He liked being fully inside of her.
The selfish prick that he was, he refused to budge, wanting her body to mold to his and erase the memory of anyone else. He gently touched her cheek as he offered a comforting kiss. “Just take a minute to adjust.”
She nodded and caught her breath. It was intense. He needed a minute, too, if he was expected to last—
“Riley?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re inside of my bajingo right now.”
His thoughts swung like a boomerang in the total opposite direction. Rolling his eyes he started to laugh. “And you think there’s something wrong with me? We’re having a moment, Emma. It’s not the time to use weird names for anatomy.”
“Bunny muff,” she said and snorted.
He shook his head.
“Pink mink,” she chuckled and then fell into a full fit of giggles. “Wizard’s sleeve!”
He withdrew and shoved forward. All humor left her expression. “It’s impolite to laugh the first time a man puts it inside. You’ll give him a complex.”
“Sorry.” She was still smirking, the wench.
He leaned over her, lowering to his elbows so they were intimately face-to-face. He brushed the hair away from her eyes and kissed her lips. As much as they could amuse each other, there was no ignoring the significance of the moment.
“Does it still hurt?” he whispered.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Good.” He sighed as he shifted his hips, his face sliding to that sensitive spot where her shoulder curved into her neck. He breathed her in. Just breathed.
There were countless ways to have sex, yet he couldn’t remember a time more intimate than this one. He could have sat up for deeper penetration, or perhaps done some fancy hip work to increase the pleasure, but neither of them seemed to want to let the other go.
Belly to belly, chest to chest, they rocked slowly, holding each other close. Rising gently, he stared into her eyes as her pupils bloomed and dilated. The entire experience was incomparable to all others. He’d never taken the time to watch a woman the way he studied Emma, never enjoyed watching a woman that much.
Pleasure built like a slow and steady rainfall, washing away all that came before. The longer it lasted, the deeper he fell. They were damp to the tips of their hair and shivering under the intensity of their joining.
It was like a sexual reincarnation, because after sleeping with Emma all other experiences paled. She’d somehow redefined his standards, making them unattainable for all other women.
Her nails scraped over his shoulders as she trembled through another climax, this time triggering his. Pressing his face to the curve of her shoulder, he lost a piece of himself there, inside of her.
She was different. He wasn’t sure what made her so, but being with Emma changed him in ways that could never be undone.
It was the first time, since becoming a man, he could recall having something to fear. As he lay there, trying to recover, one truth became perfectly clear. He could not lose this connection.