Chapter Seven
It was hard to concentrate on the celebration when the promise of what would happen later tonight hung over my head, but somehow I managed, going through the motions with my fingers linked with Emmett’s. I was just about sure that nothing would ruin my day, but just as the fireworks started, my eyes landed on the last person I wanted to see tonight.
Damn, what was she doing here?
Several feet away from us stood Emmett’s sister, looking like a festive fashion plate in a pair of tight white jeans, red wedges and a little red, white, and blue halter top. She was with some guy and was chatting his ear off as he laid a blanket in the grass, but when she spotted her brother and me on a nearby bench, she paused for a moment. And sneered.
“I retract what I said earlier about your sister hating me. I think she’s just insane and slightly stalkerish,” I said, shooting a glance across the grass at Hazel, who returned the gesture with her trademark icy green glare. What the hell was her problem with me? Leaning back on the bench, I tilted my head to the side and narrowed my eyes to match her expression. “I swear, she makes Cersei look tame.”
Emmett arched his brows and lowered his gaze. I tilted my face up, swallowing hard when our eyes met. “Who the hell is that?” he drawled, a smile teasing the corners of his full lips. “Well, don’t just sit there looking all sneaky, Kinsey, who is it?”
I wasn’t looking sneaky. I was looking at him underneath the brilliant shades of red and yellow lighting the sky. At the tiny bump on the bridge of his nose. The shadow on his chin from not shaving this morning—he should never shave, ever. At his eyes. Green like his sister’s, but so different they made it hard for me to breathe because his eyes were everything.
I was looking at him and that was just as bad as looking sneaky, because I wanted things with him I couldn’t explain.
Sliding off the bench, I looked over my shoulder. I almost expected the bronze face under all that curly brown hair to go up in flames when I caught him staring at my ass, but he simply grinned. He wanted me to know he was watching me, wanting me, and the knot in the pit of my stomach tugged even tighter.
This might not last, I reminded myself. He was twenty-one and maybe Hazel was right—maybe he wouldn’t give my ass another thought after the summer. Besides, his grandmother had done way too much to help me for me to screw myself over with him.
But when he stood, pressing his tall, built body close to mine to whisper in my ear, “You planning to answer me, gorgeous?” and I breathed in his scent, it was hard to think about anything but the present.
Gorgeous.
No wonder he already had the music industry falling all over itself for him. He was going to be a star.
One word. One softly whispered word, and I was starstruck.
I held my breath. Released. Repeated. “She’s a … book character. Epic fantasy,” I murmured at last. “She’s like the queen of all messed up siblings. If they ever bring her to the big screen, maybe your crazy sister could play her.” I took a step away from him and forced a laugh. “But enough about your sister. Once the fireworks finish, do you want to get out of here?”
His fingers on my hip stiffened, but he moved his head up and down slowly. “I thought you’d never ask, Angel.”
♫
We didn’t bring up Hazel again because as soon as the fireworks were over, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward his truck. He drove in silence, but I didn’t need words. His hands said everything his mouth didn’t.
They started on my bare knees, his fingertips carefully spreading my legs apart and moving the skirt of my sundress aside. The thunderous sound of my heart overpowered the song playing softly on the radio—something slow and sexy that was way too convenient for the atmosphere here in the truck. And when his hand moved higher, stroking the insides of my thighs, the moan of pleasure that escaped my throat made it impossible to hear any other sound in the cab of the truck.
I wasn’t innocent—wasn’t even close to it—but being with Emmett made me breathless, made me feel like this was something brand new and undiscovered for me.
“Do you still want this?” he asked when he pulled into the hotel parking lot, and I moved my head slowly.
“More than anything.”
His lips covered mine the second the hotel door closed behind us, and his hands splayed over my ass possessively. “Fuck, I want you so much.”
I arched my back, letting myself get lost in the need behind the demanding kisses he spread over my lips. My head was spinning when he pulled away to drag my dress over my head. He tossed it aside, and it landed on an armchair by the mini fridge. “I understand if this is a one-time thing,” I murmured, sliding my fingers beneath the hem of his black tee shirt. I splayed my hands over his muscular torso and shivered. God, no man’s body should be this tempting. “I mean, I realize that you’ll be leaving soon.”
“Kinsey,” he groaned as I shoved his shirt past his chest. “Stop talking.”
Shrugging him out of the tee shirt, I pressed my lips to one of the cogs linking the elements of his eagle tattoo together and inhaled his scent. “But if it’s going to be more—” I started, but he covered my lips with his thumb.
Moving us in the direction of the bed, he moved his finger, replacing it with his lips for another kiss. I trembled when he unsnapped my bra and cold air touched my bare breasts. He laid me down on the bed. “God, you’re beautiful, Kinsey.”
Swallowing hard, I started to repeat myself—to tell him I’d understand if this would be a one-time thing—but he lowered his dark head to my breasts. His tongue circled my nipple, then the other, and fire ignited in my core.
“This won’t be a one-time thing,” he said in a low voice between little flicks of his tongue. It was torture. Sweet, beautiful, incredible torture. “I told you already—I can’t stay away from you. I’m not even gonna try anymore.” At my sigh, he landed a kiss on my bellybutton, his tongue skimming my bellybutton ring.
“Oohhh,” I moaned hoarsely.
"Relax, Angel," he ordered, his voice low and hypnotizing as he glanced up at me with moss green irises full of promise. At the sound that released from the back of my throat, he repositioned his body and returned his mouth’s focus back to my breasts and my mouth. With his fingers, he stroked the insides of my thighs. The fire speeding through my body—it was hotter, heavier, demanding more. I arched my back. Curled my toes into the hotel sheets.
“Relax and open your legs,” he told me again between demanding kisses and agonizing strokes of his tongue over my nipples. Cupping my breast, he gave it one rough pump before sitting up straight and staring down at me. “I want to see you, Kinsey.” I shivered when he said my name like that. Like I was his.
“I want to taste you.” He traced his fingers along the lace center of my panties, causing me to gasp when I felt a fingertip ease under the fabric. “I need to feel you.”
“Yes,” I breathed. I slid my feet apart on the sheets slowly. My heart slammed harder against my chest with every centimeter I moved, and his grin widened right along with my legs. I’d never been this exposed to anyone before—not without begging to turn the lights completely down first—but here I was. With the lamp on. Showing every inch of my bare body to the last person I should be in bed with.
He stopped me by sliding his bronze body between my thighs when they involuntarily started to squeeze together. Pinned my wrists by my head when I tried to cover my breasts from his gaze.
“Why not?” I whispered and he nipped at my lips with his teeth.
“Never hide your body, Angel. You were made to be worshiped.”
I was going to combust.
“Touch me,” I whispered.
“You won’t sleep tonight,” he promised. Positioning my legs over his muscular shoulders, he bent his head between my legs. Kissed my thighs and inhaled my scent and made my pulse sing a frantic melody beneath my skin. “You’re already trembling. What are you going to do when my tongue touches your pus
sy, Kinsey?”
That word was so dirty, so primal, that I had to catch my breath before I responded. “I don’t know, I’ll probably—” I started, but he decided to answer the question himself, his mouth hot and demanding as it greedily devoured my core. My legs stiffened around his shoulders. I felt the vibration of his teasing laughter against my flesh, and a second later, the velvety softness of his tongue as it pushed inside of me. He flicked it in and out, his mouth memorizing me, his fingertips rough on my thighs.
When I felt a long finger join his tongue, I bucked my hips. “Oohhh!” I cried out. He murmured something, and even though I wasn’t sure if Emmett was asking if I approved, I couldn’t help nodding my head feverishly. By the time the orgasm pulsed through me—and it didn’t take long—I was biting down hard enough on my lip to taste copper and tangling my hands in his curly dark hair.
When I loosened my grip, I let out a noise that sounded nothing like me. “Oh. My. God.”
Looking up at me, Emmett grinned cockily. “You want more?” he asked. My earlier reservations temporarily forgotten, I nodded. He licked my center. And every muscle in my body tightened. “What do you want, Angel?”
How the hell could he even ask me that when I was still writhing beneath him? “You!”
“For me to what?” Another lick—this one long and teasing and drawing a deep moan from the back of my throat. Dear Lord, this man was blessed with an epically talented tongue, and I was dangerously close to coming. Again. “Let me hear you say it like before.”
“Touch my pussy, Emmett. Just … touch me.”
He sucked in a breath. “Do you know how sexy you are when you say that?”
I shook my head wildly, strands of golden hair flying into my face. “Show me.”
He gave my sex one last kiss before sitting up. He was still in a pair of black boxer briefs, but that didn’t hide the impressive bulge. Noticing my wide-eyed stare, he chuckled and pressed the palm of my hand to his cock. “You did this. You’ve been doing this since I laid eyes on you.”
My throat was dry as I scrambled to get up, but I still managed, “Do you want me to—”
“We’ll do that later, Angel. For now, I want you on your knees and elbows.” When I started to question him, he pressed a finger to my lips, repeating slowly, “On your knees and elbows.”
Nodding, I barely registered what he said next as he repositioned my legs, his fingers spreading me apart all over again, turning me into a trembling mess. “Please,” I murmured.
He leaned over me and pulled a gold condom packet out of the back pocket of his jeans. It took him twenty seconds flat to get himself ready, and then I sighed at the sensation of him rubbing himself back and forth over my sex. “Say that one more time,” he whispered. I looked over my shoulder at him, and he pushed himself a little inside me. He was deliciously thick, and I clenched myself around him and bucked my hips. He gripped my ass, stopping me. “Damn, you’re going to be my undoing.”
I didn’t think of how many times this gorgeous, insanely talented man might have said those exact same words to other women, because right now, he was mine. I just wanted his hands on my body. I wanted his body in mine.
I wanted him everywhere.
“Please,” I murmured.
Then he was all over me—filling me, his teeth skimming my shoulder, his lips against my ear. I reveled in the sound of our bodies moving together and the squeak of the bed. And later, after we left the hotel room and he took me home, he kissed me softly as he helped me out of his truck. Then he said three words that made my heart soar:
“You are mine.”