I, however, was pretty fucking wound up. My erection had mostly gone away, thankfully, but it was crazy how badly I wanted to go back downstairs and finish what we’d started.
No, I told myself. Out of the question. You shouldn’t have even done what you did. Do you not have a big enough life crisis right now? Do you want to add another one? You don’t do relationships, and that’s ALL she does. It’s what she wants and deserves. So keep your tongue in your mouth and your pants zipped before you add a whole new set of expectations to your plate and become the latest name on a very long list of assholes who let her down.
I took a few more minutes to let that sink in and catch my breath. Then, moving slowly and carefully, I placed my daughter back in bed, waited a moment to make sure she remained asleep, and went back downstairs.
Emme was in the kitchen, finishing the dishes. She’d put her hair in a ponytail, and I recalled the way it had felt like spun silk in my hands. I wanted to touch it again. I wanted to touch her again. So I crossed my arms and leaned back against the counter, five feet away from her, the island between us. “You know, if that whole event planning thing doesn’t work out, you’d be a kickass housekeeper. I’d hire you.”
She smiled at me over one shoulder, eyes narrowed. “You couldn’t afford me.”
“Ha.”
“You get her back to sleep?”
“I did. Got her to take the pacifier.”
“Good job.” She turned off the water and dried her hands. Then she turned around. “So.”
Fuck, she was cute in my shirt. “So.”
She twisted her hands together and glanced over at the couch. “Guess I was a little loud,” she said sheepishly.
“I didn’t mind.”
“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever been that loud.”
Oh, Jesus, Emme. Don’t tell me that. “Good.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t get to—you didn’t—” She made a little bursting motion with her fingers.
I had to laugh. “What is that? An orgasm?”
“Yes,” she said, giggling too, although her cheeks went a little pink.
“Well, don’t be sorry. I quite enjoyed myself. And actually, it’s probably better that we were interrupted before we took it too far.”
“Definitely. I mean, what were we thinking?” Her eyes were wide.
“I’m not sure there was a whole lot of thinking going on.”
She laughed. “Probably none at all.”
“Let’s call it a momentary lapse in sanity. Forget it happened.”
Her smile was relieved. “Let’s.”
“Friends?”
She nodded. “Friends.”
But we stood there looking at each other across the kitchen for a moment longer, and I found myself wishing that somehow we could be more. That there was a state of closeness that existed between friendship and commitment. Something more than platonic but less than romantic. Did such a thing exist?
No. And she wouldn’t want it if it did.
“Well, I should go,” she said. “It’s late.”
I followed her out of the kitchen and watched her drape her blouse and jacket over her arm. “Oh, your shirt!” she said, turning to me with a worried expression.
“Keep it,” I told her. “Looks better on you.”
She smiled at me and stepped into her heels. “I’ll wash it and bring it back.”
Actually, I kind of liked the idea of her lying around in it, maybe sleeping in it with nothing underneath, but that was probably the kind of thing you didn’t say to a friend. And you definitely didn’t imagine yourself smelling it once she gave it back. “Okay.”
She walked to the door and opened it herself, which totally violated my sense of chivalry, but I thought it might be smarter to keep some distance between us. “Night,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder.
“Night,” I echoed, remembering her hand in mine as we’d lain next to each other in bed last night.
The door shut behind her with a soft click, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
I needed a break from her. The more time we spent together, the easier she made my life, the harder it was to suppress these stupid urges I had whenever she was around. Urges that could ruin our friendship and destroy her opinion of me. If I was really the man I was pretending to be—no, the man I wanted to be, strong and able and independent, I’d be able to get through a few days without her.
I vowed to do it, starting tomorrow.
Seven
Emme
My head was spinning. I couldn’t believe what we’d done. What we’d almost done. Was there a full moon or something? A strange disturbance in the electromagnetic spectrum? An unusual alignment of the planets? I’d read my horoscope earlier, and it hadn’t mentioned anything remotely interesting—something about keeping my distance from issues that trigger my feelings of imprisonment, which I didn’t even have.
I didn’t recall letting myself into my apartment, going upstairs, or getting undressed for bed. It was only when I stood in front of the mirror, wearing only his white T-shirt over my underwear, toothbrush in one hand, toothpaste in the other, that I caught my reflection and realized where I was. But I had no idea how long I’d even been standing there. All I could think about was Nate.
Don’t obsess. It was a mistake, it meant nothing, and you need to forget it.
And I would. I really would.
But not just yet.
It was too fresh in my mind, every detail still vivid and thrilling.
The torture of his lips so close to mine, not yet touching them. The booming in my chest as I waited to see what would happen. The will-he-or-won’t-he agony that stole my breath and rendered me unable to move even one little finger.
And then…
Closing my eyes, I swooned, remembering how it had felt when he’d finally given in to it.
The pressure of his fingers at the back of my neck. The warmth of his mouth closing over mine. That first shocking stroke of his tongue between my lips, the barest hint of chocolate flavoring the kiss.
And then…
I opened my eyes and leaned forward on the vanity, lifting my chin and staring at my neck.
His mouth moving down my throat. His hands in my hair. The heat coming off his body as he’d loomed over me, tall and strong and masculine.
And then…
His fingers beneath my thighs. My body being lifted. My legs twining around him.
I set my toothbrush down and put a hand over my stomach, which was flipping wildly.
His weight on me.
His hands beneath my shirt.
His mouth on my breasts.
His tongue on my—
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.
Nothing had ever felt so good in my entire life. Where the hell did he learn all those tricks? Why didn’t other guys I’d been with know them? How was it possible I’d never been with anybody who knew how to make me come like that, like my entire body was being gloriously ripped apart at the seams?
I clapped both hands over my lips, remembering how loud I’d been. Color seeped into my face. How embarrassing! He was probably used to women who were way more sultry and sophisticated during sex. Women who moaned and purred instead of screaming like a teenage girl on the Dragster at Cedar Point.
Then again, he hadn’t seemed to mind. I remembered the feel of his cock through his jeans when he’d lain on top of me, thick and long and hard. He’d been as turned on as I was. For a moment, I let myself wonder what would have happened if Paisley hadn’t woken up. Would we have gone further? Would we have gone all the way?
My stomach whooshed. My pelvic muscles clenched. My breath stopped.
Stop. Stop it right there. It would have been a huge mistake. You guys are friends, and nothing ruins a friendship like sex.
Forcing the thought of sex with Nate from my mind, I finished my teeth, washed my face, took my birth control pill, and switched off the light. Crawling beneath the covers, I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling. Suddenly I wasn’t the least bit sleepy. My whole body was tingling. I wondered if Nate was still up. I wondered what he was thinking. I wondered if things would be awkward between us tomorrow and hoped they wouldn’t be. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to sleep.
No, I told myself. Out of the question. You shouldn’t have even done what you did. Do you not have a big enough life crisis right now? Do you want to add another one? You don’t do relationships, and that’s ALL she does. It’s what she wants and deserves. So keep your tongue in your mouth and your pants zipped before you add a whole new set of expectations to your plate and become the latest name on a very long list of assholes who let her down.
I took a few more minutes to let that sink in and catch my breath. Then, moving slowly and carefully, I placed my daughter back in bed, waited a moment to make sure she remained asleep, and went back downstairs.
Emme was in the kitchen, finishing the dishes. She’d put her hair in a ponytail, and I recalled the way it had felt like spun silk in my hands. I wanted to touch it again. I wanted to touch her again. So I crossed my arms and leaned back against the counter, five feet away from her, the island between us. “You know, if that whole event planning thing doesn’t work out, you’d be a kickass housekeeper. I’d hire you.”
She smiled at me over one shoulder, eyes narrowed. “You couldn’t afford me.”
“Ha.”
“You get her back to sleep?”
“I did. Got her to take the pacifier.”
“Good job.” She turned off the water and dried her hands. Then she turned around. “So.”
Fuck, she was cute in my shirt. “So.”
She twisted her hands together and glanced over at the couch. “Guess I was a little loud,” she said sheepishly.
“I didn’t mind.”
“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever been that loud.”
Oh, Jesus, Emme. Don’t tell me that. “Good.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t get to—you didn’t—” She made a little bursting motion with her fingers.
I had to laugh. “What is that? An orgasm?”
“Yes,” she said, giggling too, although her cheeks went a little pink.
“Well, don’t be sorry. I quite enjoyed myself. And actually, it’s probably better that we were interrupted before we took it too far.”
“Definitely. I mean, what were we thinking?” Her eyes were wide.
“I’m not sure there was a whole lot of thinking going on.”
She laughed. “Probably none at all.”
“Let’s call it a momentary lapse in sanity. Forget it happened.”
Her smile was relieved. “Let’s.”
“Friends?”
She nodded. “Friends.”
But we stood there looking at each other across the kitchen for a moment longer, and I found myself wishing that somehow we could be more. That there was a state of closeness that existed between friendship and commitment. Something more than platonic but less than romantic. Did such a thing exist?
No. And she wouldn’t want it if it did.
“Well, I should go,” she said. “It’s late.”
I followed her out of the kitchen and watched her drape her blouse and jacket over her arm. “Oh, your shirt!” she said, turning to me with a worried expression.
“Keep it,” I told her. “Looks better on you.”
She smiled at me and stepped into her heels. “I’ll wash it and bring it back.”
Actually, I kind of liked the idea of her lying around in it, maybe sleeping in it with nothing underneath, but that was probably the kind of thing you didn’t say to a friend. And you definitely didn’t imagine yourself smelling it once she gave it back. “Okay.”
She walked to the door and opened it herself, which totally violated my sense of chivalry, but I thought it might be smarter to keep some distance between us. “Night,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder.
“Night,” I echoed, remembering her hand in mine as we’d lain next to each other in bed last night.
The door shut behind her with a soft click, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
I needed a break from her. The more time we spent together, the easier she made my life, the harder it was to suppress these stupid urges I had whenever she was around. Urges that could ruin our friendship and destroy her opinion of me. If I was really the man I was pretending to be—no, the man I wanted to be, strong and able and independent, I’d be able to get through a few days without her.
I vowed to do it, starting tomorrow.
Seven
Emme
My head was spinning. I couldn’t believe what we’d done. What we’d almost done. Was there a full moon or something? A strange disturbance in the electromagnetic spectrum? An unusual alignment of the planets? I’d read my horoscope earlier, and it hadn’t mentioned anything remotely interesting—something about keeping my distance from issues that trigger my feelings of imprisonment, which I didn’t even have.
I didn’t recall letting myself into my apartment, going upstairs, or getting undressed for bed. It was only when I stood in front of the mirror, wearing only his white T-shirt over my underwear, toothbrush in one hand, toothpaste in the other, that I caught my reflection and realized where I was. But I had no idea how long I’d even been standing there. All I could think about was Nate.
Don’t obsess. It was a mistake, it meant nothing, and you need to forget it.
And I would. I really would.
But not just yet.
It was too fresh in my mind, every detail still vivid and thrilling.
The torture of his lips so close to mine, not yet touching them. The booming in my chest as I waited to see what would happen. The will-he-or-won’t-he agony that stole my breath and rendered me unable to move even one little finger.
And then…
Closing my eyes, I swooned, remembering how it had felt when he’d finally given in to it.
The pressure of his fingers at the back of my neck. The warmth of his mouth closing over mine. That first shocking stroke of his tongue between my lips, the barest hint of chocolate flavoring the kiss.
And then…
I opened my eyes and leaned forward on the vanity, lifting my chin and staring at my neck.
His mouth moving down my throat. His hands in my hair. The heat coming off his body as he’d loomed over me, tall and strong and masculine.
And then…
His fingers beneath my thighs. My body being lifted. My legs twining around him.
I set my toothbrush down and put a hand over my stomach, which was flipping wildly.
His weight on me.
His hands beneath my shirt.
His mouth on my breasts.
His tongue on my—
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.
Nothing had ever felt so good in my entire life. Where the hell did he learn all those tricks? Why didn’t other guys I’d been with know them? How was it possible I’d never been with anybody who knew how to make me come like that, like my entire body was being gloriously ripped apart at the seams?
I clapped both hands over my lips, remembering how loud I’d been. Color seeped into my face. How embarrassing! He was probably used to women who were way more sultry and sophisticated during sex. Women who moaned and purred instead of screaming like a teenage girl on the Dragster at Cedar Point.
Then again, he hadn’t seemed to mind. I remembered the feel of his cock through his jeans when he’d lain on top of me, thick and long and hard. He’d been as turned on as I was. For a moment, I let myself wonder what would have happened if Paisley hadn’t woken up. Would we have gone further? Would we have gone all the way?
My stomach whooshed. My pelvic muscles clenched. My breath stopped.
Stop. Stop it right there. It would have been a huge mistake. You guys are friends, and nothing ruins a friendship like sex.
Forcing the thought of sex with Nate from my mind, I finished my teeth, washed my face, took my birth control pill, and switched off the light. Crawling beneath the covers, I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling. Suddenly I wasn’t the least bit sleepy. My whole body was tingling. I wondered if Nate was still up. I wondered what he was thinking. I wondered if things would be awkward between us tomorrow and hoped they wouldn’t be. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to sleep.
