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Watching as Emma opens the door to the cottage, I can't help the grin that spreads across my face. I had missed seeing her this past week and to be back in her company with plans to spend more time with her this evening, I can’t help the shit eating grin that crosses my face.
After brunch last week, my father had contacted me, telling me that I was going to Napa with him, no arguments. He felt that I needed to put space between myself and Emma, that I needed time to clear my head and accept that she was seeing someone.
What my mother did today, I didn't quite grasp. It was as if she had orchestrated the brunch so that Emma and I would have to talk. At this point, I don't care what she planned because Emma and I had called a truce today.
Maybe I’m getting my hopes up again and I shouldn't have asked her for a run, especially when I had made up my mind at brunch that I would treat her like any other employee and maintain my distance. But driving her home, I had thought there had been that usual spark between us and it made me reluctant to keep my promise. Instead, I had broken the promise I had made to myself to stay away from her and invited her for a run.
I would make sure that we maintained a professional relationship only, - I sternly remind myself. After all, I wasn't into sharing a woman with another man.
With that thought, my mind taunts me with images of the officer touching her cheek, brushing those perfect lips of hers with his. My hands tighten around the steering wheel and I close my eyes for a moment, willing the thoughts away.
Sighing, I back out of her driveway and head to my house, never feeling so lonesome and so anxious for time to pass. Not knowing what to do with myself until our run, I decide to catch up on some paperwork. I work until 5 and then make a sandwich, wanting to keep my dinner light before my run.
As I take the last bite of my sandwich, my phone rings. Seeing Stephen's face light up my screen, I can’t help but grin as I answer.
"Hey stranger. You busy tonight?" I hear him ask immediately.
Thinking of Emma, I reply, "Yeah, I am."
"Unless it's a hot date, you should cancel," he jests.
"Why? What’s your plan?" I ask, knowing what the answer will be. Stephen is even more of a playboy than I ever was.
"I've got two babes that want to hook up," he boasts.
Shaking my head, I laugh as I respond, "Sorry, I’m out. I have plans."
"Change them," he says immediately. "You gotta see this girl I have for you. She's hot. Tall, blond and extremely leggy, just the way you like them."
Still laughing, knowing that the girls Stephen is talking about are most likely two girls who are looking to have the same kind of fun Stephen intends to have, I reply, "Not tonight, Stephen."
"Oh, come on, man! You’ve said no the past couple of times I have asked you," he whines. Then, "Wait now. Do you have plans with a female?"
Sighing, losing my laughter as I think of Emma, I admit, "You could say that."
"Don't tell me you are working or hanging out with the lovely Martha," he says jokingly.
"No, I have actual plans," I avoid mentioning that I’m waiting impatiently, like a loser, to meet a girl for a run, who is already taken. Stephen would be in waves and waves of laughter if he knew my exact reason.
"Tell me, who is she? You going to bang her?" he probes.
"It's a work associate and we are going for a run," I give in, hating the words Stephen is using with regards to Emma. If I was ever given the chance, Emma would never be a quick lay to me.
"A work associate that you want to bang? Thought you usually stayed away from that sort of thing? Tell me what she looks like!" he says, raucously.
"I'm hanging up now, Stephen," I threaten, feeling myself getting irritated. I suddenly realize Stephen’s terminology hadn’t bothered me before when we discussed women.
That’s because it hadn’t mattered before.
"Ahhhh, come on man. Ditch the work chick for a sure lay,” he now says, his voice now revealing a bit of whining in his tone. “I hear Tammy can suck a cock like...”
"Bye, Stephen," I say, hanging up quickly, having no interest in anything further that he has to say.
Perhaps I’m crazy but spending an evening with Emma appeals to me far more than what Stephen has planned. Even though I know I can't touch her.
I glance at the time on my phone once again and it reads 5:32. I sigh as I impatiently take my phone and my empty plate to the kitchen. After laying the plate in the dishwasher, I look around my lonely home.
Despite the warm and cozy furnishings, it has never felt so empty and bare. Sighing heavily, I decide to go back to the paperwork for another hour before I change into my workout clothes.
A few minutes before 7, after what seems like forever waiting, I pull the door to my house closed behind me and jog to the cottage. My strides are long and quick and I arrive in record time. Knocking on the door, it swings open immediately and Emma is standing there, looking so very beautiful with her face beaming up at me.
"Right on time," she murmurs, before stepping out and pulling the door to the cottage shut behind her.
We remain silent as we pick up our pace, but I still feel the contentment slide through me with something as simple as only having her next to me.
There's nowhere else I'd rather be.
There’s no one else I’d rather be with.
We continue to complete our run in a comfortable, companionable silence and this run is the start of our new comfortable, working – completely platonic - friendship.
Even though there would be times that I would catch myself watching her; watching her accomplish simple daily tasks such as making coffee, the way her hands moved sometimes when she spoken to the foreman about how she pictured certain details for the restaurant, how she would smile at everyone she encountered...making them feel that they were the center of her world.
It’s what she makes me feel every time she shares that smile with me and several times I become hopeful, thinking I’m seeing something there. But then I crash back to earth when she abruptly turns or bestows that smile on some other poor male that has the same hopes as me.
The next weeks roll by quickly as we really dig in, working every waking moment, to get the rooms and restaurant ready for the grand opening. I have an internal fight every day to maintain my distance as I watch Emma take charge of pretty much everything with regards to the restaurant. She has assumed the role for hiring and conversing with the chef on the menu, knowing exactly what she is looking for, but leaving the wine pairing to me. She also oversees the interior decor of the rooms and restaurant, making tweaks here and there from my plans. I don't interfere with her decisions to make changes. I trust her.
I would even trust her with my heart if she only wanted it.
She works steadily beside me throughout it all only gaining more of my respect as time hurries by as she never hesitates at the extra hours. I often wonder how her boyfriend feels that she has spent her every waking moment here lately but I don’t ask and I thankfully don’t cross paths with him again.
Finally, six weeks after Emma started, we reach our opening day. If I thought she was busy before, on opening day she doesn't even take time to eat.
Late afternoon, I watch her scurry through the dining room, stopping here and there to fix something she sees out of place. Her distracted, worried gaze comes to me and she gives me a tired smile before moving to step past me.
Reaching out, I grasp her by the arm. The sizzling awareness that still exists between us sparks electrical currents through my fingers at the feel of her skin.
Her shocked, but extremely tired eyes warily come up to my face as I say firmly, "Emma. You need to eat."
Shaking her head, she breaks the connection with our eyes, using the excuse to glance around the restaurant one more time to make sure everything is right, as she replies, "I'll eat later. Right now I have to..."
"No, you'll eat now,” I interrupt her. “You're no good to this place if you keep this up. Take a break and eat," I continue firmly.
She lets out an exasperated sigh, giving in, knowing that I won't give up. Keeping her arm in my grasp, I force her to sit on the bar stool at the bar as I place my dinner, that was prepared by my mother who knew I was too busy to cook, in front of Emma. I watch as Emma takes a bite, then quickly takes another. She doesn't stop until it is completely gone.
"Wow, I was hungry," she says, bashfully.
Laughing, I agree, "Yes, you were.” Sobering quickly, I say sternly, “Now slow down and take a moment."
Her eyes widen as she replies, "I can't. I have over one hundred people coming shortly plus the guests at the inn that are already starting to check in. I have to get back to work." She jumps up from the stool before I have a chance to stop her and brushing past me, heads right back into it.
That night I’m sure Emma is going to run out of steam. She practically flies around the restaurant, making sure everyone is doing their jobs, along with checking on guests to ensure they are having a great meal. I watch her, always unable to keep my eyes away from her, as I sit with my parents for just a few minutes to have a celebratory toast.
"Emma is so busy," my mother states as she too watches Emma.
Sighing, I reply, "I have tried to get her to slow down. But she keeps going. I’m afraid she is going to burn out soon. I’m hoping that after tonight she will relax a little."
But it doesn't happen and after our second week of operations, I take it upon myself to step in. I call the recently hired host, whom - from what I can see so far - can handle her job perfectly, and ask her to cover Emma’s shift.
Stopping Emma in her tracks as she tries to blow past me in the morning, I catch her arm, knowing touching her will get her immediate attention, to inform her, "Emma, you are not hosting tonight."
She shakes her head and as she opens her mouth to say something, I interrupt her before she has a word out.
"I want you to meet the group I am bringing here tonight. It's business so you don't have to feel guilty. You’ll still be working but you will at least have a chance to eat a sensible meal," I say firmly.
"I think I should work to make sure everything goes fine for the meeting," she replies but I can see the tiredness in her eyes. She wants to give in, take a little rest but she also doesn’t want to let go. It’s hard placing your trust in someone for the first time and I know Emma cares about what happens with this place just as much as I do.
"No, go home. Have a rest and meet me back here tonight at 7," I say coaxingly.
She hesitates and I switch to a firm tone as I state, "Go home, Emma."
She sighs, clearly exhausted, before reluctantly giving in. Finally, she nods as she concedes, "Okay. Call me if you need me for anything."
I don't answer her. There's no point. Unless the place catches on fire and she is the only one who can save it, I won’t be calling her.
I spend the afternoon taking over part of Emma's job, making sure the kitchen has everything it needs, ensuring the new staff are paired up with the staff already trained before heading home to have a quick shower.
A few minutes before 7, the hired limousine pulls up out front of the restaurant and my guests for the evening from other vineyards in the area spill out. As I’m showing the last one to her seat, the restaurant door swings open and Emma steps inside.
My attention is immediately riveted to her, my need for her pulsing through my body.
Dressed in a long, black, floor length evening gown that has a scooped neckline which clearly shows off her cleavage to the best vantage point, she has my body begging for her from across the room. The dress clings tightly to her body, outlining her perfect, luscious, sensual silhouette.
Managing to find my brain, I move forward to greet her, my eyes moving over the elegance of her long neck that is on display with her hair pulled up and off her face.
"Emma," I whisper.
Her eyes turn to me, soft and sensual, and I feel a punch to my gut that she isn't mine. Sorrow spreads through me as I hold out my arm for her to take, cursing the damn cop as jealousy eats away at me.
Escorting her to our table, I seat her next to me. Even though she isn’t mine, I will take this small gift to be able to sit next to her all evening, soaking up the smell of her, the look of her as she sits next to me.
Throughout the night, I am unable to take my eyes from her. Her laughter often rings out over everyone else and I realize that while I had been worried about her working, she was thriving. With each step getting closer to our opening date, she had found more and more confidence in herself as a business person.
She is radiating pride and accomplishment.
I’m now in total admiration of her. Even more smitten.
Everything goes off without a problem and I feel the pride continue to radiate from her as my guests compliment us both on a job well done.
Escorting the guests back to the limo, we both stand on the steps as the last guest, an elderly man named Jack says, "Hold on to this one, Lucas. She's a gem," before ducking his head to get in the rented limo.
Chuckling, I glance over at Emma as I tease, "He's smitten too."
My words hang heavy in the air between us and I swallow my laughter.
I had inadvertently let it slip that I was definitely into her with that small three-letter word too.
She flushes as she turns to go back into the restaurant.
"Emma," I murmur.
There’s so much I want to say to her.
She pauses, her eyes weary as she looks at me.
I swallow the words I want to say and instead continue with the platonic words, "You’ve been working so very hard. I wanted – no, need - to tell you how much I appreciate it."
I see her relax again, losing that weary and cautious look as a full genuine and happy smile spreads across her face.
God, she is radiant, - my heart thuds softly in my chest.
"It has been my pleasure. I enjoyed it all thoroughly. And not just tonight," she murmurs.
With true honest intentions in mind, I gently coax, “But your body must be very tired. I have a hot tub at my place that you could relax in and give your muscles a much-needed break."
She moans softly, her eyes closing in the anticipated pleasure, and I forcefully remind myself to keep this totally platonic, as she admits, "That does sounds heavenly."
"Why don't you head back to the cottage to change and I'll check in on the staff. I’ll ensure Melissa is okay to lock up on her own," I suggest. I silently tell my heart thudding heart that we’re just friends. Just two friends unwinding after a very long stretch of working hard.
"She has never locked up before..." Emma hesitates, but I can also see that my suggestion has her intrigued.
"Melissa has been trained to lock up by you. She has to do it on her own at some point and it’s time to let go of some of your responsibilities," I interject firmly.
Emma sighs, giving in easily, even as she asks, "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I’m sure. I'll meet you at my place in half an hour," I reply quietly.
Emma nods and finally turns to walk to her car. I watch as she climbs in before turning to go back into the restaurant.
I ignore my racing heart beat as I speak with Melissa and the chef, thanking them for a job well done and asking Melissa to close up.
Grabbing a chilled bottle of Pol Roger Pink Champagne from the restaurant, I hop in my car and cover the distance to my house quickly. As I lay the bottle in an ice bucket, my doorbell rings. My heart races even faster as I scold myself that this is a platonic evening, that Emma is with someone else and she is hands off.
Firmly getting my excitement under control, I cross to the door and swing it open. Emma is before me in a short swimsuit wrap that comes down to the top of her thighs, barely concealing the rest of her body with the see-through material. Her hair is piled high into her usual sexy, messy bun leaving that long elegant neck I want so desperately to taste on display.
I feel my cock twitch.
Stop it, - I mentally berate myself. Platonic, remember?
Swallowing, I say hoarsely, "Come in," and step back so that she can step through.
I’m careful to keep one hand on the doorknob, squeezing it, while sticking the other in my pants pocket to keep from reaching for her as I close the door behind her.
"This place is spectacular," I hear her say in awe.
No, you are what's spectacular, - is what I want to say aloud, as I watch her gazing around the room, her barely there cover up teasing me with glimpses of her shapely ass. My cock turns to pulsating.
And I realize this idea was a mistake.
I had subjected myself to an evening of torture.
Powerlessly, I watch as Emma walks to look out over the vineyard through the floor to ceiling windows in my living room and I wonder if I will ever want another woman as much as I want Emma.
She turns to look back at me, and I quickly try to hide my yearning for her, as she says honestly, "I love it. The view must be incredible in the daylight."
"It is incredible," I agree, softly, my eyes only on her. Silently, I curse the cop.
She crosses to my gourmet kitchen that is rarely used, running her hands over the pristine white countertops where I had set the bottle of champagne, and I helplessly envision what her hands would feel like running over my chest.
How they would feel wrapped firmly around my cock as she guided me into her body.
How it would feel to finally slake my lust for her in her body.
My cock tightens further.
Hurting...
"I know of chefs who would give their right arm to have a kitchen like this," she says admiringly. The kitchen lights are brighter than the living room lights.
The result is that her figure is illuminated even more.
Clearing my throat, feeling like a horny teenage boy unable to have a simple conversation with a girl, I murmur, "I don't use it much." Inviting her back here had been the wrong thing to do.
How could I be so stupid?
I want her too much.
She laughs as she continues with a strictly platonic conversation while I’m having anything but platonic thoughts, "I can see why you wouldn't. It's kind of big for one person."
I continue to stand there watching her gaze take in every nook and cranny of my home with my body screaming for hers, unable to allow my mind to form words.
She glances over at me after finishing her perusal and asks, "Is that champagne for us?'
Nodding, I watch as she grasps the bottle neck in one hand as she tears the foil off the top. I should offer to open it for her but I’m in danger of almost moaning aloud as I continue to imagine her hand grasping me.
"I have to go change," I mutter quietly, leaving her to her own devices. If I stay and help her, I won't be able to resist touching her.
And how do you plan to get through this idiotic suggestion of yours to come here tonight without touching her? - my brain taunts. She has worked so hard for you. She doesn’t deserve to have you ogling and lusting after her while she is trying to relax.
I hastily pull off my clothes and change into my swim shorts, grateful that they are loose and somewhat able to hide my heavy, throbbing erection.
Sighing heavily, I grasp the doorknob and mentally prepare myself to face the torture of what I had started.
Emma has a glass of champagne in her hand and is wandering around my living room, looking at photos here and there that I have on display, bending over to look closer at a picture of my parents as I walk by her. My hand itches to touch the soft skin of her outer thigh that is exposed by her pose. Instead, I forcefully avert my eyes to continue to the kitchen and hastily grab my champagne glass that Emma had poured for me, telling myself not to break the fragile crystal by clutching it too tightly. I take a large gulp of the bubbly liquid, draining it completely, wanting it to seep quickly into my veins.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
I’m so hard it hurts.
Refilling my glass, I grab the ice bucket with the bottle in it and walk to the living room doors, easily sliding them open with my knee. I don't say anything as I lay the bucket and glass on the section of the hot tub that has been perfectly molded to hold drinks. I remain silent as I remove the cover from the hot tub. Not bothering to see if she followed, I climb into the hot water and shut my eyes. Laying my head back, I silently pray for the strength to get through this without exploding in the water.
I hear a splash as Emma enters the tub and my cock jumps. I bite my lip, my whole body, tense.
When I’m sure she has had enough time to safely submerge herself beneath the surface, I open my eyes. She is seated across the tub from me, her eyes trained on some point past me, purposely avoiding any eye contact with me. She is clearly uncomfortable as well.
I won't dare let my eyes drop below her neck.
I have fantasized about those breasts - having them bounce as I suckled on them as she straddled me to sink herself onto my cock repeatedly - way too much to have them displayed so perfectly in front of me and knowing I can’t touch.
I sigh heavily and force myself to appear somewhat relaxed.
She deserves to unwind without worrying about me coming on to her, – I again reprimand myself.
"Doesn't this feel great?" I ask, breaking the silence.
She nods, letting out a big exhale as well.
I press a button on the tub and soft music fills the air. Taking a sip of my champagne, I watch as Emma does the same, keeping my eyes firmly on her head.
We both stay like this, silent, on edge - cautious - as we finish our wine. I reach for the bottle and top us both up, remaining silent. I see her hand tremble a little as I pour hers.
My eyes shoot to her face.
But Emma firmly avoids my eyes, as she breaks the silence to say, “Your guests were great tonight."
Nodding in agreement, I decide to try an attempt at lightening the situation. Despite wanting her as much more than a lover, I know I have to settle for friendship.
"What did you think of Billy's toupee?" I ask, chuckling.
Emma covers her mouth trying to hold back the laughter. But her mirth won't be contained and it breaks through, ringing out into the night air, delighting me.
Entrancing me further.
"Oh my God. He really thinks he is hot wearing that thing, doesn't he?" she quips, sparking my genuine laughter.
"Billy has always thought he was God's gift to women," I say, loving her laughter. I watch the amusement in her eyes, happy that I have broken some of the tension between us.
I love seeing her so relaxed and content, I only wish she was relaxed and content with me. Despite her being with someone else, despite that my body is being tortured by longing for something that I can’t have, I suddenly never want this night to end.
A little bit of her is better than none, - I silently console myself.
Wanting to keep things light between us, I continue to tell her of some of Billy's escapades as we unknowingly finish off the full bottle of champagne.
“Well that's empty," I say, as I lift the bottle and shake it in front of her face.
Emma immediately sobers as I stand to lean over the side of the hot tub to place the empty bottle on the deck.
"I should be going," she says as she shoots, cumbersomely, to her feet.
My eyes helplessly drop to her full, jiggling breasts that are barely covered by her black bikini top. Blood rushes to my head and I forget everything as my cock, past the point of no return, leaks precum.
I watch her, my body overtaking my head, as she turns to place her right foot on the first step to the stairs.
And I know I can’t let her go.
It feels like I’m dreaming, as my right arm reaches out under its own spell, to place my hand on her outer right thigh.
Her skin feels better than I ever dreamed.
She halts, staring straight ahead. The only sound in the night other than the hot tub jets and soft music is Emma’s ragged breathing. Encouraged that she hasn’t moved, I move a little closer to stand behind her, as I slide my hand around from her right thigh to her flat belly. I cautiously place gentle pressure on her abdomen, encouraging her to grind into me as I allow my cock to come into contact her with her ass.
My cock jumps and I have to temper the desire to tear her bikini bottom away and sink myself deep, allowing myself to finally rut into oblivion with this woman that I have obsessed about since the day she walked into my life.
But outweighing that urge is my need to keep her here.
With my chest pressed against her back, I can see the tops of her breasts, trembling from her shortened breaths.
Fuck, I need her.
“Stay,” I whisper into her ear, inhaling her scent. My body only screams more for hers at this sensory overload.
She doesn't do or say anything, but she does continue to stand there, unmoving, her breathing erratic in the night air with her foot still up on the step and the other remaining on the floor of the tub - allowing me perfect, easy access.
I slowly slide my hand from her belly back to her right hip, to grasp her gently, but firmly. Stepping back slightly, I trail the fingers of my free hand up her inner right thigh, absorbing the heady feeling of her muscles jumping and quivering underneath my fingers, until I reach the juncture of her thighs. I hear her breath hitch as I feel the pulse of my body settle entirely in my cock.
I’m so close to where I want to be.
So very badly...
Meeting the barrier of her bikini bottom, I stop breathing and listen – watching - for any signs of resistance from her as I pray silently to myself that she doesn’t stop me. Exhaling slowly, I gently and cautiously slide my index finger underneath the elastic, gently pushing her bikini bottom to the side to slide my middle finger up into her.
She feels like velvet.
And so fucking hot.
My head now feels as if it will explode.
I hear her soft moans, further inflating my lust. Releasing her hip from my other hand, I step back slightly and with my heart thundering, I push my shorts down to allow my raging cock to spring free. Grasping it, I slowly stroke myself as I push two fingers into Emma before continuing my strokes inside of her velvety softness. Emma has now arched her back, affording me a better view of where I’m longing to be.
I watch as my finger slides in...and then slowly out.
God, she is beautiful, - I silently moan.
The precum now drips from my cock in anticipation.
"Lucas..." I hear her whisper.
It's the first time she has used my name and my cock twitches in my hand.
Leaning forward, my chest connects with her back again and I savor the feel of her soft skin against mine.
Little by little, I remove my fingers from her as I whisper in her ear, "Turn around."
Slowly, she does as I ask. I watch as her eyes widen, focusing on my cock that I have continued to stroke. I see her lick her lips and I’m suddenly unable to think, to wait any longer.
I reach forward and slowly tug on the string that is tied behind her head holding her beautiful full breasts up. I watch as, almost in slow motion, the string releases and her top falls away, finally leaving her breasts exposed to my gaze.
Gently heaving with her shortened breaths.
I have never seen anything so beautiful, so lustful...so erotic.
"Untie the strings on your bottoms," I murmur, continuing to stroke myself, the anticipation killing me.
I watch as my fantasy plays out before me as Emma unties one side and then the other, allowing the moving water from the jets to take away her bottoms in the current.
“Sit down and spread your legs for me, Emma," I whisper, barely able to breathe.
I watch as Emma slowly slides into a seated position before tentatively spreading her legs. The sight of her spread before me, waiting for me – wanting me - makes my cock jump and twitch yet again.
Stepping over to her, the height of the hot tub seat is at the perfect height to where I’m standing in the middle of the sunken part of the tub, lining us up perfectly. I tease her as I finally touch the tip of my cock to her opening, the current of the water flowing in and around us, stimulating us both even more. I watch her once again bite her lip, all resistance gone, as she breathes heavily, yearning for me to be inside of her.
"Wrap those long beautiful legs around me," I whisper, not sure how much more I can handle of my own teasing.
Feeling her legs slide around my waist makes me lose control. Placing my hand on her hip, I hold her still as I push forward into her.
"Say my name," I whisper harshly.
"Lucas," she says softly.
Hearing my name again from her lips spurs me on and I sink myself deep. Now grasping her tightly by both of her hips, I watch as her breasts jiggle from our movements, the water lapping around her nipples firing off so many explosions inside my body, inside my head.
Glancing down to where we are joined, I watch as I slide myself out and then back into her again, my cock throbbing, close to cumming much too soon. I pull out again and raising my eyes back to her breasts, I watch them shake from the force of my thrust as I push into her again, lust completely consuming me. My gaze moves up to her face as I force myself to slowly back out.
I need to watch her face, to make her cum.
Holding her eyes, I push back into her forcefully, then just as forcefully pull back out - over and over - my moves becoming savage as I place a finger on her clit. I watch as her eyes become intense, staring back at me as I work her body, commanding it to listen to me.
Her eyes slide close and I feel her squeezing - oh so tightly - around my cock. I finally allow myself to let go, filling her deeply.
Satisfyingly.
The sensation of making love to her is so much better than my dreams and I feel as if my body is filled with electric darts that all scream her name.
I collapse on top of her, my mouth hot on her neck, gasping for air as my brain tries desperately to catch up to what just happened.
I feel her legs release around me and I suddenly comprehend that I may be crushing her against the side of the hot tub. Stepping back from her, I glance around for towels, only focused on wanting to take her to my bed to continue this because that was way too short for my liking.
I need more.
So much more.
I have a driving need to explore all of her body. Make her cum like that again.
"Damn it. I forgot the towels. I'll be right back," I murmur, as I pull my shorts up before climbing out of the tub.
Not caring that I’m dripping water all over my floors, with my heart still hammering – still tripping in excitement from being with Emma and finally experiencing her, I head back to my bedroom to grab a couple of towels.
What about the boyfriend? – slips unwanted through my mind. I push it away, unwilling to deal with it right now after having the hottest sex of my life.
Heading back outside, my heart is still hammering, and my head is still in sensory overload leaving me with a heady feeling.
"I have towels..." I trail off as I realize that Emma isn't there. The hot tub is empty except for her bikini that is floating around in the moving water. My stomach pitches violently with panic as I go back inside and cross quickly to my front door, swinging it open. I can barely make out Emma at the end of my driveway, dressed only in her short wrap, running the fastest I have ever seen her run.
My heart drops as I realize she is running away from me.
Sliding my feet into my sandals, I run after her, calling her name, my voice sounding empty and desperate in the still night air. By the time I catch up to her, it’s too late as she already has her door open. She doesn't look back at me, ignoring me calling her name along with my pleas as she steps inside, shutting and locking the door behind her just as I reach the top step.
I bang on the door, still desperately calling her name, trying to coax her to open it so we could just talk and sort through what had happened but she completely ignores me. And as I watch the lights being turned out, I feel a hollowness settle deeply in my chest.
Chapter 9