by L. D. Davis
“I’ll bet you that I will make you come at least three times, even with the horizontal lines on my person,” I challenged.
“Psh,” she rolled her eyes. “Don’t be disappointed when I dry up and your dick gets chafed.”
Positioning myself at her entrance once again, I said, “We’ll see about that.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but her words were lost when she swallowed back a scream after I pushed myself in balls deep after one hard thrust.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I purred. “What were you saying?”
She opened her mouth to object, but I had already slid out and was slamming back into her, cutting her off again and making her bury her face in my hated stripe shirt. I circled my hips, grinding against her clit as my cock swirled inside of her tight pussy. Soon she was biting my shoulder to muffle her cries as her body convulsed and her orgasm took over.
“That’s one,” I growled.
She looked up at me with vehemence. “Lucky shot, Kessler.”
I laughed wickedly as I got up on my knees and without warning I grabbed Emmy and flipped her over like a rag doll. Then I was on top of her again, pushing myself inside of her from behind as I pinned her arms above her head with mine. My teeth sunk into the sensitive skin where her shoulder and neck met as I pounded into her. She pressed her face into the mattress to mute her cries and groans. With every thrust, she pushed her curvy ass up to meet me and take me deeper.
I cursed and growled dirty things in her ear as I slammed into her.
“This is my pussy, Emmy. Mine. If I tell you to come, you’re going to come. Your body is mine—your tits…” I used one hand to reach under her and roughly squeeze a breast, making her shriek. My hand moved down to her ass where I gave it a firm whack. “This ass…” I reached under her and thumbed her clit. “And this pussy.”
Emmy clawed at the sheets and bit into her own arm as she came. She tried to wriggle away from me, but I growled at her and pinned her with my body as I continued to fuck her hard with my fingers working on her clit.
“Too much!” She managed through gritted teeth.
“No, it’s not,” I hissed and then groaned in her ear. “And that’s two.”
I fit into her so perfectly. Everything about her right down to her inner walls was a perfect fit for me.
“You’re fucking perfect,” I groaned in her ear as she began to fall apart under me once again. “Three.”
Before she could grasp that she came three times, I was rolling off of her onto my back and pulling her forcefully on top of me until I was sinking into her again.
Her hair was tossed, her eyes were wide, and her flesh was pink. I groaned as I ran my fingers through her hair, over her cheeks and lips, down between her breasts and over her tummy. Then I took hold of her hips and began to buck wildly into her, making her tits bounce and her mouth fall open, and her head tilt back.
“How do you like my fucking striped shirt now?” I growled as I felt my orgasm rising.
She couldn’t answer, because she was coming again. To my delight, she put her hands on her tits and started frantically squeezing and tugging at her nipples. I lost my composure, growling like an obscene animal as I thrust hard, coming deep inside of her. I held onto her as she grinded on me, trying to take everything from me she possibly could, and I gave it, shattering apart as I did.
Emmy collapsed on top of me, holding on to me as if she would fall without me. I wrapped my arms around her, listening to our ragged breaths and feeling our hearts pound together.
When we were breathing a little easier, I sat up long enough to finally pull the offending shirt off. I kissed the top of Emmy’s head and stroked a hand down her back.
“Four,” I whispered.
Emmy snickered and punched me in the arm, but otherwise remained so quiet for so long, I thought she had fallen asleep, but eventually she pulled herself off of my body and disappeared into the bathroom. She came out a few minutes later and pulled on a shirt and a pair of shorts. She tossed me a pair of boxers, which I promptly put on. Even though we just did the dirty with our kid sleeping a few feet away, we didn’t need to compound the awkwardness of that by being naked when he woke up, most likely before us.
Soon Emmy and I were tangled together, contently drifting off to sleep.
“Luke?” she whispered softly.
“Hmm?” I murmured, too tired to open my eyes.
“Are you happy?”
I smiled lazily and gave her a squeeze. “Mmm hmm. The only thing that could possibly make me happier is making you my wife—and don’t think you can get out of that, because you can’t.”
She was quiet again, and I was nearly asleep. In fact, my hearing was just beginning to shut down, making her whisper barely audible. It didn’t even register with me right away. It took a moment for her words to sink in and for me to react.
“I’m pregnant,” she had whispered. “We made a baby.”
Once the words really hit me, I bolted up so quickly that I banged my head into Emmy’s.
“Ow!” she cried, rubbing her head.
“We’re having a baby?” I questioned loudly.
Emmy put her fingers to her lips to indicate that I should keep it down as she shot a look over to Lucas’s bed, but I didn’t care.
“We’re having a baby?” I repeated.
“Yes,” she laughed quietly and then put her fingers on my lips next. “Yes, we are having a baby, but let’s not wake up the one we already have.”
I had said that nothing could make me happier, but I was wrong.
I embraced her and kissed her and repeatedly said, “We’re having a baby!”
I gently pushed Emmy down on the bed and pulled her shorts down to her pelvic bone. I planted kiss after kiss where I suspected our child was growing.
“We’re having a baby,” I whispered as I lay my head on her belly.
Emmy ran her fingers through my hair and wiped away a few of her tears.
“Yeah,” she said with a smile. “We’re having a baby.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Our family dinner was larger than usual. Lorraine’s house was bursting at the seams with family and friends. Kids ran, crawled, cried, yelled, and played throughout the house. There was a happy and pleasant buzz of conversation and laughter and debates from all of the adults, and the various scents of various foods, cooked by various people added to the warm atmosphere.
Many of the same people that were at Lucas’s party were present, and a few others: Emmy’s parents, Emmet and Casey, Donya and her baby, Mayson, Steve and his wife Teresa and most of the staff from KKA, my sisters and their families, and my mom. Tabitha couldn’t make it due to her schedule, and Emmy’s other siblings declined to attend for various reasons. That was fine. Besides Tabitha, everyone else that was important to Emmy was in attendance.
Our family dinners tended to fluctuate. On any given Sunday random people showed up, or out of town visitors were invited. It wasn’t surprising to see someone different walk through the door of whichever sister’s house dinner was at. So, the amount of people at dinner this night didn’t alert Emmy that anything was different. Her best friend and cousin were already in town, as well as her parents. She didn’t question a thing.
Everyone was excited about Emmy’s pregnancy. Many of the women cried. The men warned me about Em’s impending hormonal mood swings and late night trips to the grocery store or a fast food restaurant for ridiculous cravings.
It was a good night, and it was getting better.
For dessert, there were many choices, but it went without saying that Emmy had to have a slice of my mom’s apple pie. I made her sit and relax at the dining room table while I went into the kitchen to get it for her. She was engrossed in conversation with Donya at her side and hardly noticed the large slice I put before her. She absently picked up her fork even as the room fell uncharacteristically quiet. Before she dug into her pie, she looked around the table and asked why everyone was so quiet. She looked dow
n at her slice of pie and gasped loudly.
Lying on the plate, beside the large slice of pie heaped with whipped cream, was a ring, gleaming in the light, diamonds sparkling.
By the time Emmy’s eyes found me, I was already on one knee by her side. She covered her face as she laughed and cried simultaneously. I gently pulled her hands from her face and held them in mine. I knew we were surrounded by everyone we loved, but she was the only person existing for me at that moment. I didn’t hear the sniffles of women crying, the clicking of cameras, or hear the kids running around in the other rooms. I only saw Emmy’s beautiful face and heard her shocked gasps as she cried softly.
I cleared my throat and began to speak.
“People like to tell those they love that they have their heart, but I can’t say that because that wouldn’t be true. You don’t have my heart because you are my heart, and you are my lungs. Without you I am dark and hollow inside. Without you I can’t breathe. Without you I don’t have a reason to breathe. You light up the darkness, Em, and you fill in the hollowness. You give me sweet, refreshing breath. You are the oxygen that my body can’t ever be without. Emmy, you are…life, my life, and without you I am dead. Please don’t ever leave me heartless, breathless, and lifeless again. Marry me, Emmy, and every day I will give you more than my best. Every day I will love you with my whole being. Every day I will be your heart, your breath and your life.”
I reached up and wiped at the tears that were pouring out of her eyes. I used the sleeve of my shirt to wipe her nose, making her sputter out a small laugh.
“And finally…” I continued. “I promise I will never wear a striped shirt in your presence again, but I really like Jell-O. I think we can compromise with that one. So, please…marry me, Esmeralda Grayne.”
She was crying and laughing and making a weird hiccupping sound. It was so unattractive and so damn cute. After a moment, she calmed down enough to nod her head.
“Yes,” she said. “I will marry you, Luke Kessler.”
I took the ring off of the plate, slipped it on her finger, and released a deep breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Around us, our family and friends clapped and cheered, cried and laughed. Emmy grabbed my face in both hands and pressed her lips to mine. I put my hands in her hair and held her as we kissed deeply and without shame in front of our captive audience.
***
“I’m ready,” Emmy said to me hours later as we lay in bed.
“For what?” I mumbled, already half asleep.
She had worn me out in the living room, completely manhandled me—only because I let her—after our return from Lorraine’s house. Mayson had done us a big favor and took Lucas with her overnight. Without having to worry about putting Lucas to bed, Emmy had attacked me before the door even closed.
“To talk,” she said now.
I opened one eye and looked at her. “About what?”
“About Kyle,” she said softly. “You have every right to know what happened. I told the girls when I was in Jersey and I told my mom when I was in Louisiana.”
“Why did you tell everyone else but me?” I asked, not bothering to hide how aggravated that made me.
“You are…the hardest to tell,” she whispered. “You’re the last person…The things that happened to me are…humiliating, and up until the last time I saw Kyle, I felt such deep, debilitating shame.”
“Baby,” I said softly and shifted so that I was leaning over her and cupping her face in my hand.
“And honestly, Luke?” she started with her forehead creased. “As much as I felt that I deserved what happened to me, I was so afraid that you would agree, because you hated me for what I did to you.”
“I never hated you,” I said, shaking my head.
“You did,” she nodded. “And that’s okay. I understand. But even recently when you wanted to know, I didn’t want you to look at me…like that.”
I touched my forehead to hers. “Tell me.”
I felt her breath hit my face as she let out a long sigh.
“I want you to understand something before I start,” she said earnestly. “Kyle was on drugs when he did the things he did to me. I’m not excusing him for his behavior, but the drugs changed him. He would have never hurt me like that if he was clean.”
“Or he would,” I argued, trying to bite back my anger. She was about to tell me how Kyle broke her, but she was defending him.
“Luke, I know him, okay? I know he wouldn’t have hurt me.”
“But he did,” I spat out. “I don’t care if you somehow convince me that he was abducted by aliens and they programmed him to be an abusive asshole. I don’t care what the reasons are behind his actions, Emmy. Facts are facts. If he was on trial for this, he would be convicted.”
She was so quiet for so long, I thought she changed her mind about telling me.
“Tell me,” I said again.
Her voice was extremely soft. “A few weeks after you left, I was really struggling. I hated myself for what I did to you. Kyle wanted to take me away for a long weekend. He said he wanted to spend some time with me before the busy season hit us full force, but I knew he was just trying to take my mind off of you.
“We went to Miami,” she continued. “I chose Miami because…well it’s Miami, and Leo lives there. I thought we could have dinner with Leo, you know? Have dinner with a friend like a normal couple. Dinner was fine until Kyle realized that Leo and I had…a past…”
This was news to me. I shook his hand at Lucas’s birthday party, and friended him on Facebook for fuck’s sake.
“What kind of a past?” I asked tightly, though I knew.
Emmy sounded a little irked by my question when she answered in short, snipped words. “We fucked, Luke. Three, maybe four times. Maybe it was three times and a blowjob. Maybe it was two times and two blowjobs. I don’t remember. I don’t remember because I was a careless teenager.”
I bit back any angry retorts I had and asked her to continue. I would have to get over the Leo thing. It happened too many years ago to be significant now, and at least he hadn’t abused her.
“Anyway,” she said. “When we got back to the hotel, Kyle was jealous and suspicious and argumentative and I felt he had no right, considering the fucked up situation we were in. When he went into the bathroom, I took off. I ended up at Leo’s apartment, drunk off my ass. I was angry and bitter. I didn’t go back to the hotel until morning—and no, I didn’t sleep with Leo,” she added hastily.
“When I got back to the hotel, Kyle had been up all night, and he was high. We argued and I said a lot of things that I knew would get under his skin. I guess I pushed him pretty hard,” she said distractedly. “He pinned me to the bed. He was so angry. He squeezed my wrists so hard…he was extra strong and extra aggressive…he broke my wrist.”
After speaking to Mayson about this, I already knew it had happened, but to hear Emmy say it was a different experience. I cringed and balled my hands into fists.
“And that’s why he gave you that bracelet,” I said, trying to breathe evenly and failing.
“You know about the bracelet?” she looked up at me with wide eyes.
“I had a feeling it was from Kyle,” I said. “Just by the way you wore it, but Mayson confirmed it. I hated seeing it on your skin, Emmy, especially after I found out why you had it. You still wanted him after everything…I had a hard time understanding that. I still have a hard time understanding it.”
“I didn’t want him,” she objected. “If I wanted him, I would have gone to get him.”
“Then why?” I pushed. “Were you feeling sentimental? Did you want him to break your damn wrist again?”
“No,” she snapped and then sat up. “Maybe you’re really not ready to hear this.”
I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. I wasn’t angry with Emmy. I was angry that she went through this shit. I was angry with Kyle. I was angry with myself for not being there for her when she needed me.
“I�
��m sorry,” I said. “This is hard to hear.” I reached up and put my hand in her hair. “I’m sorry. Lay back down.”
Hesitantly, she shifted back down into bed and I wrapped my arms around her.
“What happened to the bracelet?” I asked quietly.
“I gave it back to him the last time I saw him.”
“Good,” I said. I was glad it wasn’t lying around in our home, like some kind of curse. “Tell me what happened on New Year’s.”
“I’ll give you the short version of the night,” she said and flung an arm over her eyes. “Drugs and alcohol don’t mix, and Kyle had had a lot of both. To this day I’m not even sure how he managed to drive to my house without killing himself or someone else, because when he got to my house he had already begun the transformation of becoming a monster. I think he must have taken something either just before he got to my house or before he came upstairs, because he changed so damn quickly. One moment he was somewhat coherent and the next he was…inhuman…”
She paused and took a very deep breath and then breathed it out in a long shudder.
“He was too far gone in his drug and alcohol induced rage. He had no more control over his actions than I did.” She swallowed hard, moved her arm, and peered up at me. “He attacked me—viciously,” she whispered and then looked away. “In those few minutes, I was stripped of what little dignity and hope I had left. What wasn’t broken before the first strike was destroyed after it.”
I felt as if I had been kicked in the chest. It ached so badly, I had to touch it to be sure it wasn’t indeed bruised and broken. There was a roaring in my ears as my heart pumped extra hard to push my boiling blood through my body. I already knew it. I already knew that Kyle had beaten Emmy, but again…to hear her confess it was unbearable. Hearing the pain and desolation in her voice was killing me. Where the hell was I? Why wasn’t I there for her? I was in Chicago trying so damn hard to forget about her, fucking other women and working my ass off. I had no idea that she was suffering and I should have been able to feel it somehow.
I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I put my elbows on my knees and put my head in my hands. I felt Emmy sit up next to me, but she didn’t touch me.