by Meghan Quinn
“Ask me,” he says, his nose rubbing against mine intimately.
“Do you want to worship my body . . . tonight?”
Not even skipping a beat, he says, “More than you fucking know.”
His hand tightens on my jaw, the other one curling around my neck. His mouth opens as his nose grazes my face. Fuck me. Fuck me. Just do it. Just kiss me. I can’t take it any longer.
Our breathing quickens, our breath caressing one another as the air around us ceases to exist. With one more pause, Tucker presses his thumb into the back of my neck and then his lips graze mine, teasing me, tantalizing me with what’s to come. It’s a whisper of a kiss, a brief glimpse of our connection, and when I think he’s going to end everything with just that light touch, he presses further but never too hard. He keeps his lips soft, his need in control. It’s sexy as hell, to the point that I’m forced to wrap my legs around his waist and clench hard.
Lightly he nips my lips, runs his tongue along them and tastes each corner, as if he’s trying to memorize this moment. There is no memorizing for me. It’s impossible when I know this moment will be forever engrained in my brain.
Wanting more, I glide my hands tentatively up his chest. He groans from my touch and starts to work my mouth a little faster. When I press my hands over his pecs, he groans louder, and his mouth picks up pace. I match each kiss with his, our mouths sliding against each other until his tongue parts me, begging for entry. There is no denying his demand. I open my mouth and collide my tongue with his, the force of his kiss taking control. I try to keep up now, matching each thrust, each groan, every lick of his tongue.
This kiss is everything.
From the pit of my stomach I know this moment will top every first kiss I’ll ever experience. From the way he presses his body into mine, to the hold he has on my neck and face, to the way he equally matches my kisses with his, it’s undeniably the most sensual moment of my life, as well as the most misguided judgment of my life.
And just as I settle in for a long night of kitchen make-out time, Tucker removes his mouth from mine, but not before placing a final kiss on my lips. Hazily, I open my eyes to meet his. When I expect to see that charming grin of his, instead, I see a look of uncertainty.
Uncertainty?
Uh, not the kind of thing a girl wants to see after experiencing by far the best kiss of her life.
Uneasy, I ask, “What’s wrong?”
He steps away from me and grabs the back of his neck while his other hand rests on his hip. God, even standing there, looking unsure, he is the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.
“Tucker?”
With his head still turned down, he looks up at me. “Shit, Emma.” Oh no. “I lost control . . .”
And there it is, regret. Wow, that was a lot quicker than I imagined it would be. I would have at least given him the night.
I hop off the counter and put on a big smile. “No problem. I get it.” I pretend yawn and stretch my arms over my head. “You know, it’s getting late and I’m not really that hungry. I think I’m going to call it an early night.” I start to walk away and then turn to him. His eyes? They still look uncertain.
He wishes he didn’t kiss me. Does he want me to leave? Do I just go?
“Let’s just say this never happened, okay? A lapse in judgment. I’ll see you in the morning. Night, Tucker.”
I make my way to my bedroom, listening intently for him to quickly follow behind me, to tell me he was just kidding, that he actually wants to continue kitchen make-out session, but he doesn’t follow me. Instead, the house fills with an uncomfortable silence, while inside my heart and head, I’m screaming. In frustration, in anger, in humiliation.
Disappointed and more than embarrassed, I shut my bedroom door and go straight to my bed where I bury my head in my pillow.
Do not cry, Emma. This is not something you cry over. This is merely an experience that ended sooner than you expected.
Despite my self-talk, my nose starts to sting, the moment in the kitchen playing over and over in my head. Why did he stop? Was I a bad kisser? Was I not what he expected? Did I disappoint the hype he might have had in his head? Was it because I’m not her and never will be?
I can’t stop the stinging feeling in my nose and before I know it, tears start to leak from the corners of my eyes. The tingling, burning sensation of having Tucker’s hands and mouth all over me is quickly washed away by a vat of utter mortification.
There had to be something—
My door opens and without turning around I can feel Tucker’s presence. I have my back turned away from him so he can’t see the devastation I’m feeling.
“Emma.”
I don’t think I have the strength for this . . .
Chapter Fourteen
TUCKER
Fuck.
The grip on the back of my neck is so tense that it almost feels like I’m about to move all of my vertebras out of place with one swift movement.
What the hell do I do?
I kissed her. I fucking kissed Emma Marks. The sweet, compassionate, slightly spicy Emma I grew up with, and I only have myself to blame.
It’s been a monumental buildup from the moment I saw her at the bar, to her impersonating Playboy models, to her blatant staring and thick-dick comments, to the way she practically hums with pleasure when I invade her space. Tension, sexual frustration, and yearning built and fucking built until I could no longer resist her.
I’ve wanted to fuck you since the moment I saw you at the bar.
What was I thinking? Hell, I wasn’t thinking, I was acting on pure instinct, on desire, on everything I’ve been holding back since the moment that incredible woman walked back into my life.
And I pushed her. Fuck, did I push her. I wanted to see how far I could go, how many innocent touches I could get in, how many times I could crowd her space just to catch a glimpse of her scent. She might think it wasn’t fair to her, but it wasn’t fair to me either.
But tonight, seeing her in those matching pajamas, bright-eyed, beautiful, and innocent, fuck, I couldn’t hold back. I had to know if she wanted to fuck me. From her body language, the way her eyes would peruse me every chance they got, or the hitch in her breath when I walked by her, I knew there had to be something there, but I had to hear it from her lips, those sweet, plump lips.
Christ.
I run both hands through my hair and glance toward her bedroom. That kiss, fuck, it’s still making my body hot. And then like an asshole, I pulled away, unsure of every little nip and press of my lips I gave her.
It’s not that I don’t want her, that couldn’t be further from the truth. But it’s hard, giving in to the desire coursing through me when thoughts of Sadie still lurk in the back of my mind, taunting me every goddamn day of my life with what could have been, the future we missed out on, the world we could have created just between the two of us. The world she didn’t want. Doesn’t want.
Get over it.
It’s the common thought in my mind. Drop it, she’s moved on. But how can I drop it when I’m far from moving on? When I don’t want to move on? When there is a room right across from Emma’s that was designated for the little life we were supposed to bring into this world?
Taking a deep breath, my hands on my hips, I look to the ceiling and try to ease the ache in my chest. I can’t worry about Sadie or what could have been. I need to focus on the present and the present isn’t looking too special right now. But it was.
Flashes of Emma’s face plague me as I think about what I said to her. I lost control . . .
Yeah, I fucking lost control, but in one of the hottest ways possible, with her lips screaming across mine, full of sweet relief from the fucking incredible tension built between us. And then like the bastard I am, I threw it away.
I need to make this better. Despite my reservations, my baggage, I can’t let Emma think she’s anything less than perfect.
Storming to her room, I open the door without knocking to
find her curled up on her bed, a slight shake in her shoulders.
Fuck. Me.
One word falls past my lips; it’s all I can get out.
“Emma.”
Keeping her back turned away from me, she refuses to rollover as she says, “I’m tired, Tucker.”
Her voice wavers with each word, a mirror image of anguish passing through her. God, I hurt her.
Knowing I did this to her . . . again . . . I take a step forward, past the books and pillows on the floor from her study session with Adalyn and tread carefully.
“Emma, please look at me.”
“Just go, Tucker. Let’s not make something of this, okay?”
Fuck that. Even though I’m battling with relationship demons, there is a comfort within Emma I’m craving, that I need to get lost in, that I desperately want to soak in.
“Turn toward me.” It’s a demand, not a request, and from the way she slightly shifts on the bed, she hears the seriousness in my voice.
When her wet eyes meet mine, a feeling of utter turmoil hits me straight in the gut. I should have known from the beginning if I was going to pursue this, I was going to have to dive in, not fucking tippy-toe my way around whatever electric energy is surrounding us. I did this to her. Once again, I need to fix this. She is worth it.
Gently, I place my hand on her wet cheek and brush away the tears coating her beautiful face. “Scoot over.”
“Can you just go?” More tears stream down her face, her lip quivering with each word.
“I’m not going to ask again, Emma, scoot over.”
Her eyes bounce back and forth while looking at mine before she shifts to the side, making room for me. Taking charge, I lie down next to her and pull her into my chest so she’s resting her head on my shoulder and my arm is wrapped around her, playing with the thin fabric of her pajama shirt.
Immediately, I can feel her tears on my bare skin and it breaks me inside.
Taking a deep breath, I say, “I’m temporary breaking rule number six.” I stroke her back with my fingers, hopefully conveying the warmth I feel for her. “I haven’t been with anyone other than Sadie. She’s been it for me. You know that?” I gruffly clear my throat. “Until you walked back into my life.” I run my spare hand over my face, nerves tickling my spine. “This is new to me, Emma, being attracted to someone else, and I mean attracted enough where I think about you constantly. For so long, I’d just believed I would end up with Sadie, that we would have a family together, living in this house, growing old together. But I think we both know that’s not going to happen. No. We both know it’s not going to happen. So I have to switch gears and it’s been fucking hard. I need to learn to be okay with that, and I think I will.”
I take a second to gather my thoughts, gathering strength from Emma who now has her arm wrapped around my stomach. How does she know how to hold me in a way that comforts me so well?
“But, I want this, Emma. I want your arms around me, your lips on mine, your body tangled in my sheets, naked next to me. We just have to go slow, despite how much my dick thinks differently. My mind has to catch up.” I want this. I want her.
Emma draws little circles on my chest as she speaks, “This is new for me too, Tucker. These feelings. I don’t think I’ve been so attracted to someone before in my entire life.”
“Not even the man-nurse?” I can’t help it, I have to ask.
“Man—” Emma pushes up to look at me, the sorrow gone from her eyes. “Are you talking about Logan?”
“Yeah. You’re not itching to have him give you a one-on-one check-up?”
Laughter boils up out of Emma’s mouth as she shakes her head. “No. I mean we tried at one point but it never worked out. We’re just friends.”
“Nah.” I shake my head. “You think you’re just friends but he so wants to fuck you.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Emma states in defense with such surety in her voice. It’s cute. Women can be clueless about men sometimes.
“Babe, he does. It’s all in his eyes.”
“You don’t know that.”
“To hell I don’t. He wants you. I know this because it’s the same look in my eyes when you’re around.”
Swallowing hard, she stares at me for a few seconds before laying her head back on my chest. “Well, that’s neither here nor there.”
I chuckle and grip her tight. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to make you feel inadequate or embarrassed. It’s just . . . fuck.” I wish I knew how to say this right. “When I gave in to the yearning that’s been eating me alive over the last few weeks, I lost it and it scared the ever-living fuck out of me. I don’t want to lose you, but fuck me, do I want you.”
Her fingers graze across my nipple, the she-devil. “I want you, too, Tucker.”
“Are you scared about our friendship? Of what might happen?”
Not answering right away, silence falls between us before she shakes her head against my shoulder. “No, I’m more worried about what Sadie might think.”
Sadie?
“Why?” Why the hell does she care what she thinks?
“Tucker, she’s one of my best friends and I just made out with her ex in the kitchen of the house we’re rooming together in. I’m now cuddling with her ex. That’s not very best friend like.” Her hand pauses on my stomach and then goes to her forehead where she grips it with concern. “Oh God, what is she going to think? She’s going to disown me.”
“She’s not going to disown you. She’s in her own little world right now.” And isn’t that the fucking truth. The last time I talked to her was when I brought her to the house, after she was already committed in her heart to someone else. Since that day, I haven’t spoken to her. Hell, I hadn’t spoken to anyone from my hometown until Emma came along.
Wanting to pull away from the topic of Sadie, I say, “There’s no need to tell her anything because we don’t know what the hell we’re doing. Yet.” There’s no need to fuel a possible fire of drama over something we can’t even label ourselves.
“I guess so.” Emma starts to drag her fingers over my chest again. “Can I ask you something though?”
“Sure.”
“What is going on here? What’s happening between us? I mean, does the fact that we kissed change anything between us?”
I take a moment to think about her question. She wants to know what’s next for us. Are we going to let this be awkward or give in to our yearning?
Knowing the answer right away, I say, “We’re still roommates, Emma, there is no changing that and I want our friendship.” I need our friendship.
Her fingers stop immediately as she nods. “Okay, yeah. I don’t want to lose our friendship.”
I kiss the top of her head and add, “That doesn’t mean we aren’t going to fuck like bunnies all over this house. Just when the time’s right, because at some point, my head is going to be between your thighs and I’m going to love every fucking second of it.”
Her breath hitches in her chest as her body relaxes into mine.
When the time is right.
I just need to get my fucking head straight first. For Emma. For me. For us.
Chapter Fifteen
EMMA
“Oh God. Oh, fuck me,” I moan as I twist in bed. “Ahhhh.” I sit up and grip my neck, pain coursing through it. The morning sun streams through my window, blinding me enough to let me know it’s later than my usual wake-up time. Slight panic picks up in the pit of my stomach until I realize it’s the weekend. I don’t have classes or scheduled clinical.
As my anxiety wanes, the pain in my neck becomes noticeable again. Muttering to myself, I swing my legs to the side of the bed. “Stupid muscular man shoulder, putting a kink in my neck.” I rub the side, trying to ease the tightening of my muscles where I must have rested the entire night on Tucker.
God, that man. We slept together again. Platonically.
I don’t even know what to do with him. He’s my friend and still caught up on Sadie. H
e’s also the man I can’t stop thinking about, the man that makes one move toward me, and my entire body lights up. And let’s not forget the man who told me, straight to my face, that there will be fucking between us. Fucking. Tucker Jameson.
I mean . . . how do I even respond to that? What do I say? “Oh sure, yes, please tell me when the fucking will commence.” Do I sit back and wait, to see if it will ever happen? Or do I just decide one night to strip down to nothing, point at my crotch, and say, “Open for business.” Maybe I put an additional sign that says, “Tucker welcome here.”
I’m so confused. I feel like last night was nice, but the mixed signals confuse me. He wants me, but not yet, but we will be having sex, but he’s waiting, but then he sticks his tongue down my throat in the kitchen. I’ve never met a more indecisive man. It makes me question whether or not he is capable of deciding what to do with us.
Sighing, I stick my feet in my slippers, brush my hair out of my face—another winning morning do—and trudge out to the kitchen where I stop dead in my tracks.
Standing in front of the stove, freshly showered, wearing nothing but a pair of briefs and a spatula in hand, is the man who gave me a kink in my neck. Right now, I could really care less about the pain.
With his back toward me, I observe him in his chef element. One of his hands is tucked behind him in the waistband of his briefs, the extensive amount of muscles rippling through him flex and contract with every shift of his feet, and little droplets of water run the length of his back from his still wet hair. I’m enamored . . . once again.
Grown-up Tucker is one fine specimen.
I take a step closer, which causes the floor to creak, and draw Tucker’s attention away from the stovetop. When he turns in my direction, a slow, sexy, heart-stopping smirk catches my attention, causing every nerve ending in my body to be on hyper-alert, jumping, jiving, and dancing across my skin with excitement.
“Morning, babe.” His voice is gruff, low, still waking up from a good night’s sleep. He pats the counter next to the stovetop and motions with his head for me to sit down. Still taking in the sight in front of me, I follow his non-verbal request. Of course, when I go to lift myself on the counter, Tucker does it for me, picking me up at the waist and gently setting me down, all the while, I stare at the way his chest ripples with every movement. His thumb and index finger gently pinch my chin in a loving way as he says, “Didn’t think you were going to wake up.”