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by Leah Holt


  When my mother was gone, Emery asked, “Is everything really alright? I could hear your stepfather yelling, he sounded really upset. Is he angry that I'm here? I don't want to cause any trouble.”

  “No, he's not angry at you, he's angry at me. He hates that I'm here, and he wants me out. I get it, I really do, but I won't leave unless I know you'll be alright.” Picking up the clothes off the end of the bed, I held out my hand. “Come on, let's get you in the shower. It'll probably feel great, and help any tension in your muscles.”

  “Will you help me?” Tilting her head, she smiled and winked.

  Fuck I loved that smile. She wasn't scared of me anymore, she didn't look at me like she hated me, and that meant everything now.

  I didn't have to pretend to be something I wasn't. She knew how we got here, she knew the truth, and that was all that mattered. I didn't give a fuck what Franco or my mother said about who I was or what I would do.

  I wasn't leaving this girl, I wasn't going to just turn my back and walk out that door. There was no way I could, because she meant something to me. There were no words to explain why or how she had clawed her way into my heart, but there she was, digging a spot just for her.

  “Of course I'll help.” Tangling our fingers together, I helped her to her feet. “If by help you mean touch your tits and rub your cunt.”

  “Porter!” she yelled as her cheeks blushed, and her eyes went wild. Smacking my chest, her jaw hung open. “Dirty, dirty boy.”

  Chuckling, we took small easy steps towards the bathroom. “Yeah, dirty is how I like it. Does that bother you?”

  “No, it just surprised me is all. Especially, after how Franco reacted earlier to us being in bed together.”

  “Ah, forget about him.”

  Opening the door, I flipped on the lights and helped her to the toilet. Emery closed the lid and sat down, softly rubbing her lower back. “I feel like an old lady, everything is so sore.”

  “Some hot water should make you feel better.” Turning on the shower, the steam started to billow out from behind the curtain and fog the mirror. “Can I help you get your dress off?”

  “Actually, yes.” Twisting her torso, she pointed over her shoulder. “Can you unzip me?”

  Tugging down the small metal tab, her sexy back emerged. Lean muscles contoured the supple skin as she pulled the thin straps down her arms, letting it pool around her waist.

  “Oh wow,” I said, gently running my fingertips over her back. “Does it hurt over here?”

  “A little. Why?”

  Thinning my lips, I didn't want to tell her that the area around her ribs was dark purple. “There's a pretty big bruise, but it probably looks worse than it feels.”

  Standing up, she wiped the mirror with her forearm, and turned to see her back. “Fuck, huh? Yeah, it hurts for sure, but it looks terrible.” Peering at me through the mirror, her lips turned into a deep frown. “I'm sorry I did that, I'm sorry I caused us to crash.”

  Grabbing her arms, I turned her around so I could look in her eyes. “Don't apologize, you had no clue what was going on. I should have told you from the beginning, but I didn't. If anything, it's my fault. I had no right to take you the way I did, I should have been honest from the start.”

  Emery brought her hands to my face, cupping my cheek and stroking her thumb up and down. “We both made mistakes, neither one of us is innocent in this. I won't let you take all the blame, it's not yours to carry alone.”

  “No, it's my fault. I gave you no choice, I should have just turned and walked away. You wouldn't be here if I had done the right thing.”

  “Stop, you couldn't have known.” Her eyes softened as she angled her head into her shoulder. “I made a choice too, you didn't force me into that bathroom.”

  Smiling, I said, “Everything was pretty good up to that point, wasn't it?” She nodded in agreement, the corner of her lip curving into a little smirk. Holding the sink, she glanced at the shower. “Are you ready?” I asked, taking her arm in my hand and holding her at the elbow.

  “Yeah, I need to get wet.”

  “We don't need the shower for that. . .” Drawing out my words, I bit my bottom lip.

  “I set myself up for that one.” Rolling her eyes, Emery giggled.

  “You really did, how could I not take it there?”

  Shaking her head, she pushed back the curtain, and stepped into the tub. Steam poured out, filling the room. The air was thick and hot, making me sweat easily.

  “This feels so good.” Hanging her head under the water, she let it roll down her shoulders.

  I stood in awe, my cock hard and throbbing as I watched her skin glisten from head to toe. Even with the bruises coating her body, with thick scratches and cuts, she looked stunning.

  Arching her back, the water pooled in the small dimples above her ass. Absorbing the erotic woman in front of me, I licked her body with my eyes.

  Her nipples were hard and firm, her ass was plump and enticing, calling me in. Grabbing the bar of soap off the holder, I held it under the water.

  “Get against the wall, I'll wash you down.”

  Resting open palms against the tiles, she laid her face on the wall. Her eyes were shut, legs spreading to make room. Scrubbing the soap in my hands, I began massaging her back.

  The feel of her skin, slick and hot against my fingers sent my head in a spin. Every muscle in my body exploded, filling my cock with need.

  Pressing my thumbs up her spine, I wrapped my fingers over her shoulders and squeezed her neck.

  Emery let out the prettiest little moan as she pushed her cheek harder against the tiles and kept her eyes closed. “That feels incredible.” Bending at her waist, her ass dipped higher, spine curving deep.

  Stroking her flesh, my hands drifted over every curve, curling around her stomach and slipping up her tits. Pinching her nipples, I rolled them between the pads of my fingers, watching the goosebumps as they jumped across her body and made her shiver.

  “You like that?” I asked, gliding my hand down her belly, and cupping her mound. “Does that feel good?”

  “Yes,” she groaned, parting her thighs and rocking her waist.

  “Good, I like making you feel that way.” Trapping her pussy lips between my fingers, I squeezed the wet folds around her swelling button. Back and forth, I wriggled my fingers so her pussy teased her clit, making her body jiggle and move.

  Flipping her around, Emery's head tipped back as I ran my hands up and down her stomach, and through the valley of her breasts. Thumbing her hardened beads, she let out a moan that was music to my ears.

  I was tempted to devour her right there, tearing her off her feet, and fucking her until her legs were numb and she couldn't catch her breath. My control was weak, it was barely grounded as my head lost sight of what I was doing, and my dick decided to take over.

  Peeling her eyes open, Emery's lids hooded as she pressed her palms to her sides and bit her bottom lip. Seductive and alluring, the tips of her curly blond hair dropped water over her chest.

  I watched the drops, following their path as some slipped down the center of her chest and others trickled over her tits, hanging dangerously off the edge of her nipples. Dragging my tongue over my lips, my eyes glazed over as I allowed the carnal feelings raging inside to come to the surface.

  I should have been tender, I should have been easy and gentle with her. But that was gone, there was nothing left for me to grasp.

  My touch was impulsive, my muscles no longer under the control of my brain, but driven by something stronger. The starvation I felt painfully delved deeper into my body, shutting down the world around me.

  Emery's eyes anchored on mine, caressing my heart into soothing beats. Her lashes swept up as she blinked, her gaze blazing bright like torches.

  Covered in soap, with drenched hair and prickles running up and down her arms, she stretched her hand out, and grabbed my wrist. Pulling me into the shower, Emery tore my shirt over my head, driving her l
ips onto my chest.

  The hot water splashed around us, washing her naked frame clean. My boxers stuck to my legs as I tried to slide them down. Shifting my hips, I worked the soaked material to my knees.

  My cock throbbed painfully, ready to take this woman again and again. In one quick swoop, I lifted Emery off her feet and curled her legs around my waist. Our eyes were locked on each other, never breaking away, never losing each other as our bodies pressed together and sheer desire became the driving force.

  Cupping her ass, the tip of my cock hit her wet entrance, slipping inside with ease. Groaning hard, I dropped my head into her neck and bit her throat. Her walls tightened around me as my shaft filled her up, spreading her wide.

  Thrusting hard and fast, I dug my fingers into her ass, and pushed her back firmly against the wall.

  Emery let out a loud moan, grabbing my neck and pinning her thighs to my hips. She was holding on tight, bouncing her ass to my rhythm. I would slam in, she would slam down, I would pull back, and she would clench her pussy so my cock stayed inside.

  “You need me, don't you?” Whispering against her shoulder, she cooed. “You need me to erase all the pain you feel, don't you?” Expelling a breath, her nails raked my scalp. “Fuck, that's sweet.”

  Harder and harder, I buried my cock in her pussy all the way up to my balls. My fury base tickled against her skin, while her smooth wet lips milked my shaft.

  She couldn't speak as every inch of her trembled, shivering from head to toe. I could feel the shake as it radiated through her muscles, and spread through her body. With one final thrust, my cock exploded, filling her with hot cum.

  In the end, as her eyes fluttered up to mine, and her fingers raked through my hair, I knew something changed between us. I could see it, I could feel it, and there was no denying it now.

  I was hers, and she was mine.

  There was no room for anything else.

  Chapter Twelve

  Emery

  Pulling up the sweatpants Jo had given me, I tugged the purple t-shirt over my head, and let it drape around my waist.

  “You look incredible,” Porter said with a smile, his eyes twinkling like stars against a lusty background.

  Turning my lips up into a disbelieving grin, I tempt some truth out of his comment. “In your mom's clothes . . . you think I look incredible?” Giggling, I sat down on the edge of the bed, tucking one leg under my thigh, and running my barefoot back and forth against the carpet.

  Porter was leaning against the door frame of the bathroom, arms wrapped over each other, forcing the muscles in his biceps to thicken and bulge like rocks under the surface.

  My heart fluttered, knowing exactly what it felt like to have those strong arms curl around my body, touching me in all the right places. Everything about this man replaced my nerves with shivers, and my uncertainty with desire.

  I stared at him, tracing the muscles I could see with my eyes, wondering if it would always feel this good to be with him. I felt safe, I felt adored, I felt things I had never experienced before with anyone else. Those flutters were magic, they were mind altering, because Porter had drawn them out.

  All I wanted now was to be with this man. I thought I didn't need someone by my side to make me feel special; but I was wrong. Having someone didn't mean I had to change who I was, it didn't mean I would suddenly crave acceptance and not know how to be myself.

  Having this man meant I could share the best parts of who I was with someone who would cherish me. And everyone deserves to have someone like that in their life; even him.

  Running his hand through his hair to pull it away from his eyes, his head tilted into his shoulder. “It's not the clothes, it's the person in them.” Stepping forward, he leaned down and thumbed my jaw, placing a tender kiss on my forehead. “Ready?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Knitting my brows, I fiddled with the strings on my pants. “What if your stepfather says something? What if he goes off again?”

  “Don't worry about him, he might not even be here. My mom basically told him to get lost if he was going to keep being a dick.” Taking my hand, he helped me to my feet, letting his hand settle on the small of my back.

  “What does your mom want to show us?”

  Crooking his jaw, Porter shrugged. “I have no idea, but knowing her, it's probably something that's going to embarrass the hell out of me.” Laughing, his hand massaged the dip in my spine.

  Another wave of arousal washed over my body, reigniting the heat in my core, and the throb in my clit. His touch did things to me; great, wonderful, intoxicating things. Gentle or rough, my entire being only wanted more.

  If I had the energy, I'd mount him again, straddling his waist and devouring his cock for a third time. Porter was the best kind of drug. A high that never ended, one that leaves you dying for more.

  The house was really warm and homey. It felt like a loving, caring family had lived there for ages. I knew that wasn't the truth. This wasn't the home Porter had grown up in, these weren't the walls that watched his childhood unfold, but you could still feel him here.

  All the furniture looked used and worn, just like you would expect in a house with boys. I could see dings in the table as we walked through the kitchen, and light tears on the cushions from years of abuse. There were pictures of flowers all around us, mingling with happy faces of Porter and his brother when they were kids.

  “Look at you,” I said with a smirk, glancing at him over my shoulder. “Weren't you a cute little kid.”

  His lips crept up his face, igniting a bright smile. “Don't sound so surprised.” Pointing at himself, his jaw hardened, eyes holding steady. “Look at this face, like I'm still not cute.”

  Laughing, I turned back to the picture. “And this is your brother?”

  Nodding, he stepped up to my side, his eyes set on the small boy, with dirty red hair behind the glass frame. “Yeah, that's Zander. Shit, I think I was ten and he was five in that picture.”

  Looking up, there was a small frame with a picture of Jo, Porter, and Zander. They were on the beach, squinting with crooked smiles as the sun blinded them. “Where was this taken?”

  “The Cape.” Porter plucked the picture off the wall, and held it tight. “We had a beach house there for years when I was kid.” Stroking the outside of the frame with his thumb, he kept his eyes on the image.

  “Your mom said she used to be a nurse, how come she's not anymore?”

  Porter stretched his arm up over my shoulder, and placed the picture back. “My real dad died when I was three. My mother was working in the hospital at the time when the call came in that there had been an accident. Adult male, car veered off the road, major injuries. . .” Pausing, he stared off into space as he talked. “She had no idea it was my father. When they brought him in, she said she just froze, she couldn't think, she couldn't function. She watched him die on the table, and she couldn't do shit to help him. It changed her, she was never the same after that. She couldn't go back to work, she couldn't even look at me for months because all I did was make her cry.”

  Touching his shoulder, I tilted my head. “That must have been so hard on her, to go through that, and then to lose your brother too. . .” Sadness crept over my face as tears swelled in my eyes. “I'm so sorry, Porter.”

  Giving me a thin smile, he ran his thumb over his bottom lip, and looked down at the floor. “It hasn't been easy.” I watched him as he buried the emotions that were trying to take over his body. He wasn't going to allow himself to cry or be sad, and that hurt me.

  He shouldn't have to hold it in, that wasn't fair. If he never let it out, he'd never be able to let it go.

  Taking in a big breath of air, I decided to give him something from me. We came from different worlds, but we shared the same sadness. We weren't that different in a way, there was a common thread between us, one that was braided in hurt and pain.

  “When I lost my parents, my entire world crumbled.” Porter lifted his face to mine as I started
speaking, and laid his hand against my cheek, tracing the curve of my jaw.“They went out to dinner for their anniversary, and on the way home some drunk asshole hit them head on.”

  His eyes were intense as he peered down at me, making my heart stumble on itself. I didn't like talking about my parents, it was a hurt that never went away. Time only dulled the ache, but it was always there.

  I hated the look people gave me when they learned I was an orphan. I hated the guilt they somehow placed on themselves, and the need they felt to give me handouts.

  So, I stopped telling people what happened, leaving it open for them to wonder and draw their own conclusions.

  Except, sharing this piece of my life with Porter felt right, it felt like he was the only one who could even understand what I went through.

  “It all came out of nowhere; one day they were here, the next they were gone. Just like that, I never saw them again. But, I was lucky I had my grandmother, she took care of me.”

  Porter didn't speak, he simply held my face in his hands, and kissed me. His kiss was soft and tender, filled with all the things he couldn't say out loud.

  His kiss said he was sorry I had to go through that.

  His kiss told me that he understood.

  His kiss told me not to worry about what I lost, but to focus on what I found.

  “Oh good, they fit.” Jo popped in from behind us, causing us to jump, and break apart. Smirking, her loving smile made me feel right at home.

  I wanted to thank her for that. It felt nice to have a mother figure look at me the way she did. It reminded me of my own mom; the caring eyes, the light smile, the thoughtfulness.

  “The one in the middle is my favorite,” she said, folding her arms over her chest, and looking through us at the wall. “You'd never know it, but it took me almost an hour to get that shot, neither one of them would cooperate.” Smiling, her eyes went distant, lost in a memory. Shaking herself back into the present, she glanced between us. “Come in the living room, I have something I want to give you, Porter.”

 

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