On top of the sexy attire, her blonde hair was pulled back in a French twist and she was wearing red lipstick. She hardly ever wore makeup, and when she did, it was always so natural, it looked as if she wasn't wearing any at all. Even now, with her delicious red lips and thick, black lashes, she still wasn't overdone. She was still Emma underneath it all, just more dressed up than I'd ever seen her before.
The effect was beyond stunning.
As I stared at her, I could feel the fire burning low in my belly. Oh God, how I wanted her.
“May I come in?” she said, smiling awkwardly.
She barely looked up at me, almost like she was feeling a little self-conscious herself. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her own waist , as if she was afraid of showing off too much of herself. She was shy. Never in a million years would I expect Emma to be shy, but there she was, trying to hide even while, at the same time, she was trying to show off her beautiful body.
“Of course,” I said, opening the door wider for her to come inside. “But we need to – ”
Before I could finish my sentence, she pressed herself against me and kissed me. And just like that, shy Emma went straight out the window.
“I've been waiting all week to do that,” she said, blushing as she pulled away. “I was afraid I'd lose the nerve if I waited.”
I closed the door behind her, unable to speak. My gaze fell on her once more and I felt myself growing harder just looking at her. I could only imagine what seeing her naked would do to me.
“Emma, can we talk about this?”
“Sure,” she said, looking worried. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Your dad spoke to me the other day.”
She sighed as she fell down onto the sofa. “Seriously?” she said. “He just can't leave it alone. And he can't accept that I'm an adult and am fully capable of making my own adult decisions.”
“Yeah, he told me to stay away from you,” I said soft
ly. “And I don't want to make enemies with my neighbors.”
She wouldn't look at me. I saw tears welling up in her eyes, but she also looked angry. Biting her lip, she shook her head and seemed to be willing herself to not let her tears spill out and down her cheeks. She was trying so hard to maintain her control.
“I can't fucking believe this,” she said. “I'm twenty-one years old and still get treated like a child. No one – not even you, Marcus – trusts me to make my own decisions. It's all about what everyone else wants for me. But when do I get a goddamn say in how I run my own life?”
“Listen, Emma – ” I started to argue, but she was right. I mean, her father was still controlling her life, even though she was an adult. And I supposed, by extension, I was guilty of the same thing. “I do think of you like a grown-up, I just don't want anything to come between us. Not just your father and I, but also you and me. I love having you here with the kids. And the last thing I want is for something to go sideways between us. I value you, Emma. And I know my kids do too.”
“Who says anything has to come between us?” she asked. “Why can't we just be two consenting adults having a good time? Aren't we entitled to enjoy ourselves?”
Her comment surprised me. Sometimes it was hard to believe she was twenty-one years old. She was wiser and far more mature than most girls her age, that was for sure. Even still, there were some things she was still a bit naïve about.
“Because it's never that easy, Emma,” I said. “Not when sex is involved. There's emotions and everything that goes with it too. It always tends to get complicated.”
She crossed her arms in front of her chest defensively. “So basically, you're not trusting me to be mature about all this, to not act like an adult in this situation and know what I'm capable of emotionally?” she ranted, her tone clearly indignant. “Got it, thanks for doubting me too, Marcus.”
She stood up, a clearly annoyed expression on her face and walked toward the door, passing me. As she did , I reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her. Her sweet scent lingered in the air, and as she turned to glare at me, I wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to tell her I was wrong, that we could do this. I wanted to tell her that it would all work out and we wouldn't have the problems I was envisioning.
“What?” she snapped.
“Maybe you're right,” I mumbled.
“About?”
“About everything,” I said. “Maybe I'm just scared.”
“Scared of what?” she asked, her tone turning gentle. “There's nothing to be scared of, Marcus.”
Her face softened somewhat as she turned and faced me, finally meeting my eyes. I had a hard time holding her gaze, so many conflicting emotions swirling around inside of me.
“Scared of being intimate with someone again,” I said. “Especially someone like you. I don't know if I could trust myself, Emma. The way I feel already is overwhelming to me and that's what makes it scary.”