by L. D. Davis
Like she knew about paying bills? She was employed for the first time since I was a little kid!
I bit my tongue on that remark and said instead, “I understand that, but I would like to try.”
“I can’t just quit my job and run all over the world with you. We don’t even have the money to do that. Did you think about that?”
I deflated. I had not thought about that. I had not thought much about the details at all. It wasn’t as if my dad was around to pay the bills while I pursued a modeling career. It was just my mom and the money she made and a little bit of social security. It wasn’t very much. We had enough to live with electricity, heat, and to not starve and that was about it. I had become accustomed to the Graynes making up where my parents fell short over the years, but that wasn’t something I wanted to continue to do. I had no expectations or illusions of them supporting me and my mother while I ‘traipsed’ around trying to find work.
But still…
“I understand,” I said slowly. “But can we at least meet Max? I would like to at least hear what he has to say. Maybe I can try on my own in a couple of years.”
Mom shrugged. She was spreading butter on toast, but she looked over her shoulder at me.
“You’re pretty, Donya, but there isn’t anything extraordinary about you. I don’t even know what that Max was talking about. What if he’s just a pervert?”
I pushed away the self-conscious feelings she had just evoked within me. “You and Sam both found out he was the real deal,” I reminded her patiently.
She shrugged again. “I don’t really have time or money to go to New York anyway. You may as well have stayed down south. ”
That was probably one of the longest, sanest conversations I had ever had with my mom. Sadly, it was just that…sad. She had not said one single kind word to me since I walked through the door.
“I have to go,” she said after wrapping her toast in a paper towel. “There’s some food in the fridge.”
She moved past me into the living room, grabbed her keys off of the coffee table, stepped through my obstacle course of bags and walked out of the door without even a glance back in my direction.
*~*~*
Emmet got back to New Jersey a couple of days after me. He had driven straight through and was exhausted, but he insisted on seeing me before he slept. It was mid-morning when I walked the few blocks to my other home. Fred wasn’t home. He had flown to Chicago the night before for some early morning meetings. He had called me to let me know he would be gone a couple of days, and it was that small act that made me smile for the first time since I returned to New Jersey. I wasn’t even his real kid but he treated me like I was his more than my biological mother did.
As I let myself into the house, my heart fluttered madly in anticipation of being reunited with Emmet. I followed that invisible line between us and found him in the kitchen, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, yawning and scratching his chest tiredly. I couldn’t help thinking how cute he looked.
“Hey,” I said, stopping a few feet away from him.
“Hi,” he said with a grin. He closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around me. He planted a kiss on my neck that made me shiver before releasing me. He affectionately tugged on a piece of hair that had fallen from my ponytail.
“How was your drive?”
“Too slow,” he said, putting a hand on my hip. “Mom tried to sabotage me and flattened two of my tires.”
“She did not,” I said disbelieving, but at the same time totally believing it.
He nodded and laughed. “Yes, she did. She didn’t like me driving home by myself.”
“She didn’t have any arguments when you showed up five days early,” I pointed out.
“That’s what I said.” He yawned loudly.
“I’m not going to stay long. You need some sleep.”
“Stay,” he said quietly as he looked down at me. He put his other hand on the back of my neck and dragged his thumb across the nape. I shivered.
“I don’t know if I should,” I whispered as his thumb made another pass across my skin.
Instead of answering me with his words, Emmet leaned over and gently placed his mouth on mine. The tip of his tongue slid across my lips. I granted his request and parted them. He kissed me slowly and softly. I melted against his body and he wrapped his arms around me. After a couple of minutes, he pulled away and rested his chin on my head as he held me. I held onto him tightly. I didn’t realize how much I needed his embrace until that moment.
My days at my mother’s house had been long, lonely and rather sad. She never made any further effort to be near me. If we ended up in the same space together, it was purely by accident on her part. We hardly spoke more than a few sentences to each other since my return. It saddened me deeply. I always believed that if my mother was well, she would be different. It hurt a lot less when I thought it was her mental illness keeping her emotionally detached.
“You okay?” Emmet asked worriedly.
“I’m just glad you’re here,” I said and then cursed in my head when my voice broke on the last word.
His green eyes burned into mine with concern.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine,” I murmured.
“I can feel that there is something wrong,” he said, frowning. “We’re connected, remember?”
It was impossible to forget, but at least I knew for sure that he could sense my emotions.
“I remember.” I gave him a small smile.
“So, talk to me, sweetheart,” Emmet said softly.
“My mom hates me,” I blurted out. My teenage hormones raged and I burst into tears and became bitterly angry at the same time.
Emmet looked alarmed as he attempted to wipe away my tears, but they came faster than he could keep up with.
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand.
I let him lead me through the first floor and up the stairs. He pulled me into his bedroom and made me sit on the bed. He walked out of the room and returned a few seconds later with a box of tissues. He took a couple out and kneeled before me and blotted my tears.
I was so embarrassed. I wasn’t a crier. I hated sissy crying girls. I was tougher than that. I tried to stop, but couldn’t.
“Donya, what happened?” Emmet asked desperately with his hands on either side of me.
“Nothing,” I laughed and sobbed.
Humiliated by my weakness, I turned my face away from him. I gently pushed him away until he stood up and stepped back. I crawled onto his bed and lay down with my back to him. I covered my face with my arm in an attempt to hide from him. I felt him move onto the bed behind me, however, and he gently pulled my arm from my face and wiped away my tears. He didn’t ask me anymore questions. He simply wrapped his arms around me and held me close and let me cry like the baby I felt like.
I don’t know how much time passed before I stopped crying. My body still shook involuntarily with small shudders and Emmet continued to hold me while stroking my hair. The sob session had taken a lot out of me. My eyes began to droop. I struggled to stay awake, but tucked in Emmet’s hold, I lost the battle and slept.
*~*~*
It was late afternoon when I opened my eyes again. Emmet’s digital clock next to his bed glowed 4:45p.m. I felt his chest rising and falling gently against my back. I carefully rolled over to face him. I tried not wake him, but completely failed. He was smiling even though his eyes were still closed as he pulled me closer.
“I like waking up to you,” he murmured.
“Even though I cry like a little girl?” I asked, feeling the mortification in my warm cheeks.
Emmet’s smile faded and his eyes blinked open. He looked at me with worry again.
“Why were you crying?”
I sighed and picked at an imaginary piece of lint on his shirt.
“My mom doesn’t like me,” I said in a small voice. I told him about my arrival back home and how she had behaved. I told him
everything she had said about Max and how she made no real effort to be near me.
“I usually don’t care if someone likes me or not,” I said at the end. “I was able to deal with it before because she was sick, but she’s better now and she still doesn’t want anything to do with me. I’m trying not to care, but I do. I wish I didn’t.”
“I don’t really know what to say about your mom,” Emmet said. He seemed to be dumbfounded by what I told him. “But I do know that my parents love you as much as they love us.” He chuckled and said “Sometimes I’m sure my dad loves you more than Emmy. Don’t tell her I said that.”
“Your parents are great and you know they’ve been the only parents I’ve really had most of my life, but it’s not the same thing. You expect your real parents to love you, too.”
Emmet kissed my forehead. “I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. I feel really bad for you.”
“I’ll get over it,” I sighed, though I wasn’t sure if I could ever get over it. How does a kid get over being disliked by her own mother?
“I don’t want you to give up on the modeling thing. It pisses me off that she said you weren’t good enough.”
“There’s nothing I can do about it,” I said resolutely. “It costs money we don’t have.”
“Yeah,” he said distractedly as he absently rubbed my back.
We lay there in silence for a little while, just holding each other. With Emmet rubbing my back, the constant movement gradually pushed my shirt up. Instead of pulling it back down, his warm hand slid across my bare skin, sending small shivers up and down my spine.
“Remember the last time we were in this bed together?” he asked in a murmur.
How could I forget it? I squirmed slightly just thinking about how his body had pressed against mine.
“Yes, and I should get up so we don’t have a repeat session,” I said, but made no effort to move away from him.
“I’m not letting you get up,” he warned, looking at me with mischief in those sparkling eyes.
“I don’t need your permission.”
“Yes, you do, but even if you asked, I wouldn’t grant your request.”
He pulled on my ponytail, forcing my head to tilt up towards his face. He smiled like a villain and then kissed me.
Though I knew I should have probably got out of his bed, I fisted my hand in his hair instead and wriggled closer to him as his tongue stroked mine. His hand roamed over my bare back and down to my butt where he squeezed and kneaded. I moaned softly against his lips. When I felt him erect against my thigh, I pulled away from his lips and gently pushed at his chest.
“We should stop,” I said. I didn’t really want to stop kissing him. I loved kissing him, but we were completely alone. Sam and Fred were both hundreds of miles away. There was no chance of anyone banging on the door to interrupt us, no chance of getting caught.
Emmet squeezed my butt again and ground against me. He groaned and then suddenly released me and rolled onto his back. Relieved and disappointed, I fell onto my back too.
“I should go home,” I said.
“You should stay,” he said and hooked his pinky with mine.
I snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“Seriously,” he said. “Sleep in Luce’s room like you normally do, or Emmy’s. Or…” Quickly, before I could register what he was doing, he rolled on top of me. He straddled my legs and leaned over me, trapping me beneath his body. “You can stay here. In my bed.”
His words sent warmth between my legs and my breath hitched ever so slightly.
“You know I can’t do that,” I whispered.
“Yes, you can,” he whispered back and left a soft kiss on my lips. “Please, stay.” He kissed me again, taking his sweet time.
“Emmet,” I sighed. I wanted to tell him no, but I had a romantic image in my head of falling asleep in his arms as the stars came out and waking up in his arms as the sun rose in the sky.
“How many opportunities will we have like this?” he asked.
None, I knew. Fred would be back the next day, and we didn’t know for sure if he would be out of town again, and soon Emmy and Sam would be back. Then Emmet would be gone.
Emmet will be gone.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll stay.”
His smile melted me and I completely forgot the anguish I had felt earlier in the day. I reached up and put my hands on his face and pulled him down for a kiss. The kiss was light and flirty at first. We chuckled and giggled as we teased each other with our lips and tried to nip each other. I tried to tickle his side and he succeeded in finding a ticklish spot right under my arm. When I tried to fight him as I laughed, he wrapped his hands around my wrists and pressed my arms down above my head.
“Oh, now what will you do?” he teased and managed to hold my wrists in one hand while he tickled me with his other hand. “You should have never started this tickle fight, Donya.”
I laughed and squirmed as he tortured me. He took great satisfaction in my helplessness. I begged him to stop and after another minute he finally did. I felt my shirt hiked up over my belly button and he must have noticed it at the same time. He looked down and saw my bare stomach and his playful grin turned into a heated smile. He dragged his hand down my side and over my bare skin. Caressing my belly, Emmet leaned down and kissed me. There was nothing playful or soft in the kiss. It was hard and demanding.
As he kissed me, his hand moved under my shirt. His fingertips came in contact with my bra and then stopped. He breathed a little heavier as he kissed me, as if not touching me any further was taking a tremendous amount of energy. I tried to release my wrists from his hands, but he growled low in his throat and his grip tightened as he simultaneously cupped my breast. When his thumb moved over a hard peak I groaned loudly and absent mindedly lifted my hips off of the bed.
Emmet stretched out over me and settled his body on mine. He released my wrists and kissed me along my jaw as his free hand joined his other hand under my shirt. I stared up at the ceiling as his kisses continued to my neck. His tongue tasted my skin as his hands rubbed the aching tips of my breasts. I didn’t recognize the mewling sounds coming out of my mouth.
I put my hands on his shoulders with the intent of making him stop, but when I felt his hair between my fingers, I realized how powerless I was to stop him. My hands pressed gently on his head as he suckled on my neck and I arched my back slightly, pushing my breasts into his hands. Even as I wrapped one leg around one of his, I knew I needed to push him away. When Emmet suddenly pulled away from me and sat up on his knees, I should have taken that opportunity to make him stop.
His hands tugged at the hem of my shirt. I sat up, fully intending to end it, but quickly complied in taking off my shirt by lifting my arms. He moved his body over mine and kissed me hard while he continued to touch me in ways I should have objected to. His lips left mine as my eyes stared up at the ceiling again. I should have spoken up, but when my lips parted, I only groaned as he again suckled on my skin.
When one of his hands drifted away from my chest and began to migrate south, I didn’t stop him. He angled his body so that he was not directly on top of me, giving his hand the space it needed to explore. His fingers edged just under the waistband of my shorts, moving slowly back and forth, from hip bone to hip bone. I soon felt the button release on my jean shorts and heard the zipper as he pulled it down. When my shorts were open, Emmet looked me in the eyes and pushed his hand into my shorts and under my underwear and pressed his palm down on the swollen button that had been waiting for his touch.
He stared at me heatedly as he palmed me. I pushed my hips up, increasing the friction as my mouth made more noises I was unfamiliar with. I stared into Emmet’s eyes as I began to feel pressure building inside of me. I squirmed and mumbled incoherent words as the pressure increased at an alarming rate. Emmet rubbed me faster and harder and moaned, which I couldn’t understand because I was the one being touched, but he seemed to be enjoying it just as much
as me.
“Emmet,” I gasped, gripping his shoulders. I was suddenly afraid of what I was feeling. I wasn’t stupid. I knew I was on the verge of my first orgasm—again—but I had no idea how I would look or how my body would react, or if it would please him.
“It’s okay,” he said in a surprisingly soothing tone. “Don’t fight it.”
So, I didn’t.
“Emmet!” I cried out his name as the most incredible sensations attacked the sensitive flesh beneath Emmet’s hand. I dug my nails into his shoulders and bucked my hips into his firm hand. My toes pointed to the end of the bed and then curled and pointed again and curled again. I tried unsuccessfully to close my legs around his hand even as he continued to rub me.
I screamed, shuddered, and fell back against the pillows. Emmet pulled his hand out of my underwear and softly kissed the corner of my heavily breathing mouth. Though I felt him hard against my leg, he didn’t try to get back on top of me. He simply wrapped his arms around me, kissed my forehead, and then we both slept.
Chapter Thirteen
It was a little after seven that night when I woke up ravenous and amazingly relaxed. Though my stomach growled, my muscles and limbs felt ridiculously pliable. After kissing Emmet for a few minutes longer than my hungry belly could take, I escaped from his bed and ran from his grasp and jogged downstairs to the kitchen in search of food. Emmet wanted to make me dinner. Like his mother, he was capable of cooking great food, but since the family was gone all summer, there wasn’t much in the refrigerator to work with.
“We can order take-out,” he suggested.
“I’m starving,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t wait for take-out. Can you drive us somewhere?”
“Sure,” he said and grinned when he looked at my hair and my clothes.
I put a hand in my hair and knew that it was probably wild from being in bed all day, but I didn’t care. Emmet had seen me first thing in the morning on countless occasions, but when I looked down, I realized I was still shirtless, and my shorts were still unbuttoned. Memories of why I was wearing less clothing made my cheeks warm with embarrassment. I avoided his eyes and crossed my arms self-consciously across my breasts.