Emma holds her hand out to me. “Sophie, I need to borrow my fiancé. You can leave whenever you’re ready or stay and listen. I don’t care.”
I freeze, my whole body hard in an instant.
Emma smiles at me as she backs into the bedroom. “You coming, Brett?”
Fuck, I breathe deeply. I’m not a stupid man. I stride heavily across the room. I don’t even look toward Sophie; I get to the bedroom and shut the door behind me.
Emma’s eyes are huge in her face, and I don’t think she thought this through. I’m a man on the edge. Just the hint she’s going to give me something and I’m hard and almost ready to pounce.
“I’m not going to ask you if you meant that out there, because I’m pretty sure you did. I’ve already discovered you don’t say things unless you mean them.” She’s rambling, and I take a big step toward her.
“You’re right,” I grunt. My cock is stiffening in my jeans almost uncomfortably.
She’s nodding her head. “So I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to be scared anymore.”
“I’ll protect you,” I tell her.
She smiles, a soft smile. “I know you will.”
Still not sure exactly what this means, I ask her, “What are you saying, Emma? Because I need to hear you say it.”
“You held me all night long...”
I nod my head, nostrils flared, remembering her against my body. “I did.”
“I liked it,” she says softly.
“I liked it too.”
She’s nodding and takes a step toward me. She’s still in her long shirt that kept riding up in the night and I kept pulling down because temptation was about to be too much.
She juts her chin out. “I want you to hold me every night. Until you’re sick of me or don’t want to anymore. I just know that as long as you’re willing to, I want it.”
I take another giant step toward her. “It will be forever then.”
She lets out a long, deep breath. “Brett, you don’t know how badly I want that.”
Because I can’t stand it anymore, I reach out and put my hands at her waist. “Whatever you want, I will do anything I can to give it to you.”
Her hands slide up my chest, and she fists the material of my shirt. “You. All I want is you.”
8
Emma
The sound of Sophia slamming the front door lets me know that we are completely alone in his house. He’s staring at me and doesn’t even seem to acknowledge the door or his ex leaving. I know exactly what he wants. And if I couldn’t tell from his almost black eyes and the flared nostrils, then I definitely could from the bulge in the front of his jeans. I know he's uncomfortable. Whether he knows it or not, he's adjusted himself three times since he came into the bedroom.
I may not know a lot, but I know some. My mom told me about the birds and bees. I know how babies are made. Plus, I’ve read the books that my dad would bring me from the library. He never borrowed them, he would just grab some from the free bin at the entrance, and usually there was a romance or two in every pile. It’s sad to say, but I learned a lot about the love of a man and a woman in those books.
"Are you sure about this, Emma?”
I nod, but he doesn't like that because he's shaking his head. "Baby, I'm going to fill you up and make you mine. I will make it to where you never want to look at another man; you'll only have eyes for me. But trust me when I say it, you will be mine."
"I know, Brett. I'm already yours."
He reaches for the hem of my shirt and slowly starts to pull it up my body. I can feel the chills cover me, whether it’s from knowing what he's about to do with me or the draft in the house, I don’t know or care. I want this as much as I want my next breath.
I raise my arms so he can pull the shirt off. The only thing I have left on is my panties, and I don't know what kind of coverage they're giving me because I can feel the wetness that is pooling between my legs.
He's staring at me, taking me all in. I'm probably too skinny, I didn't get to eat a lot at home. And I'm not big chested like Sophia. All the doubts start to whirl in my head, and I raise my hands to cover my chest.
I put a hand over each breast, and I swear he stops breathing. "Don't cover yourself. Not from me."
"I know you're probably used to big..."
But I don't get the words out. "You're the one, Emma. Fuck, you're so beautiful." He grabs my hand and brings it to his chest. In frustration, he pulls his shirt off and then puts my hand on his naked chest right over his heart. He's all lean muscles, and I can't resist running my fingers through his hair roughened chest. He smiles but stops my hand over his heart. "Do you feel that?"