Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“Nice to see you too, asshole,” Vance grumbles from the driver’s seat.
Ignoring his asshole remark, I answer, “Thanks for bringing her, I'll talk to you tomorrow.”
He nods and grins knowingly at me right before I shut the car door. With Emerson beside me, I feel like I can breathe again. I tighten my grip on her hand, not wanting her to pull away as we walk to the truck. Only when we reach the truck, do I release her, but only so I can get into the driver's seat.
Starting the truck, I pull out of the parking lot, trying to think of how to start this conversation. It's the ballooning elephant in the room and if I want things to go back to normal, then we need to talk.
Glancing over at her, I can see she's focused her attention on her nails, as if they're more fascinating than me.
Fuck. I wanted to wait until we got home to do this, but with every second that passes with her in this can my resolve diminishes. I need to talk now, I need to explain.
“I’m sorry about earlier, it really wasn’t what it looked like—”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Emerson cuts me off, her tone light. “We’ve been over this. You don’t owe me anything. You can do whatever you want with whoever you want. It’s none of my business. I don’t care who you kiss Clark.”
White knuckling the steering wheel I remind myself of the fact that she is doing this to protect herself. She’s trying to cut me out, trying to make it seem like there is nothing between us, but even a blind person could see the chemistry, the compassion.
I don’t care who you kiss…
Her words anger me, enrages me. Gritting my teeth, I shut my mouth taking the rest of the ride home to calm down, thinking about what I’m going to say when we get to the house.
By the time we pull up to the condo, I still haven’t come up with anything good. I park in front and cut off the engine. Emerson grabs her backpack and gets out before I can come around and help her out.
Frowning, I follow her to the door and unlock it. She pushes the door open and heads straight for her room.
“I’m going to bed,” she said without even looking at me.
“No, you’re not,” I snap, shutting the door behind me with a little more force than needed. She stops walking and spins around to look at me, shock and terror written all over her delicate features. I hate how she's looking at me, like I would ever hurt her.
“Don’t look at me like that, I just want to talk.” I know I’m pushing her boundaries, pushing her into unknown waters. Maybe I should back off, or maybe I need to push her a little, see how far she's willing to go.
“Why did you run off earlier?”
She starts to back up at my question, her head shaking back and forth. “It’s nothing. I don’t care who you kiss…. If… I mean if that’s what you're referring to.” Her stutter is adorable. I stalk toward her, which causes her to take a step back, and another and another until she's against the wall with nowhere to run.
My eyes drop down to her heart-shaped face, her eyes, fear resides there, but so does another emotion. It trickles in slowly, dissolving the fear, drop by drop. Want? Arousal? Maybe a combination of both, I have no clue. All I know is I would rather see that then fear, or sadness.
“I didn’t kiss her, Em. She kissed me when I was distracted… distracted by you. I didn’t want to kiss her…I don’t want her.” Long lashes the color of autumn leaves fan against her cheeks as she blinks up at me.
Lifting a finger, I trail it against the creamy flesh of her cheek, so warm, so fucking perfect. I never saw her coming, never saw her ruling my mind, my body, my heart, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let her go. She needs me as badly as I need her.
“I saw the sadness flicker in your eyes. Why were you sad, Emerson?” My voice is low, deep and gravelly. I can feel my cock pressing against my zipper begging to be unleashed, but when it comes to Emerson, he doesn’t rule me. No, it’s the muscle beating out of control in my chest that does.
She owns your heart.
My eyes roam down her face stopping on her chest. It heaves up and down, but not so fast that I worry she’s afraid. No fear isn't what she's experiencing right now.
Caging her with my body, leaning in, so close I can almost feel her lips against mine, I whisper, “Why?”
“I…” Her throat bobs as she swallows, her eyes flickering to my lips. Is she going to kiss me again? Fuck, I hope so, because I want to kiss her so bad it’s taking everything inside me not to right now. My muscles tighten, quivering with want, with need that I refuse to give into. Relax… calm yourself, for her.