by Lisa Suzanne
He finally reaches his arms around me, and I feel safe once more. This is how it’s supposed to be.
His hands grip my hair, and then one hand pushes down on my shoulder—the universal signal that a man wants a blowjob.
I take the bait. I break my lips away from his mouth and slowly make my way down to my knees. I unzip his jeans and pull his heavy length out into my hand then I glance up into his eyes, and they’re hooded. He’s looking down at me with all this lust, and an erotic beat passes between us before I take his substantial length into my mouth.
I keep my gaze locked on his, and as soon as I take him in my mouth, his eyes roll back. His head lolls back with a light thud on the wall behind him, but he doesn’t care. I take him to the back of my throat before allowing his length to pull partway out, and then I suck him back in again.
He didn’t dub me the Queen of Head just because he thought it was a cute name.
I can tell he’s chasing the brink of his orgasm, so I release him from my mouth. The only way he’s coming is if he’s inside me, and he knows that.
I slip out of my leggings and pull my shirt over my head. As I watch him pull his off and lower his jeans, I unhook my bra and lower my panties. Without words, we’re both naked.
He grabs me by my ass and hauls me back toward him. He kisses me again as both of his hands find my face, and he holds my head in place as he really kisses me, his tongue dancing sensually against mine.
He pulls back and his eyes find mine. His are still full of hurt, and I’m not sure how to make it disappear other than allowing his body to connect intimately with mine.
I hook one leg around his waist, and he grabs me under my ass. His other hand comes down under my other cheek, and then he pulls my legs around him. I hold on around his neck, and he lets go with one of his hands and grabs hold of his dick before he impales me.
His hand returns to my ass, and he bounces me up and down on his body as we fuck in my entryway. This isn’t make-up sex; no, this is make-up sex’s hotter cousin, angry sex—well, for him anyway. For me…I’m just trying to hold on, trying to show him how I feel about him through my body.
Grunts and groans escape both of us. His mouth is tit-level, so he latches onto one of my breasts and sucks my nipple into his mouth. He lets go with a loud pop, and then he does it again.
I hold on for dear life around his neck as he pumps up into me, his mouth working my nipples. I breathe in his familiar scent, and it’s reminiscent of home and security and all the things I love. That’s what sends me flying over the edge.
My whole body locks up as I grab tightly around his neck, and he bites down on my tit as I come. I feel him start to tighten up beneath me, too, and then he roars as he comes hard up into me.
We both pant for a few minutes, him still inside me as I cling to him.
It’s these quiet moments after such a huge release that I think maybe I am in love with him. Maybe I feel for him everything he wants me to feel. He loves me, and I know I feel strongly for him.
I’m just so scared of getting hurt the way I was before.
Axel isn’t like Declan, and in my head, I know that. Now I just need to get my heart on the same page.
He finally pulls out of me and sets me down. He doesn’t make eye contact with me, but he heads to my bathroom. I get dressed while he’s in there, and he emerges a few minutes later. I’m sitting on the couch, but he doesn’t sit beside me. Instead, he sits on the loveseat across the room.
“I, uh, wasn’t expecting that to happen.” His eyes are focused on the ground.
“What were you expecting?”
“I just wanted to come here to talk.” He finally looks up at me and tugs on his hair again before running a hand over his beard. “I’m frustrated, Emme.”
“I know you are,” I say softly. “But I’ve made it clear what I need.”
“Yes, you have, but what about what I need?”
He’s right, and I know that. He’s got needs that are different from mine, and his aren’t being met in this relationship.
I don’t answer, because I don’t actually have an answer for that.
“We’re stuck, Ems. We’re at an impasse. A stalemate. What do you do when only one person wants more?”
“You wait.” My voice comes out with more vehemence than I intend, and I suppose that’s maybe the first real sign of emotion Axel’s heard from me in a while.
“What if I don’t want to wait?”
I glance away from him, because something deep in my heart knew where this was leading. “Then we have some decisions to make, I guess.” I say it softly because it’s not what I want. I don’t want to end things with Axel.
“I think we do.” His voice is quiet, too.
I heave out a breath.
“Maybe we should take some time and reevaluate our relationship.” He drops the words like a bomb into my lap, and instead of immediate sadness, all I feel is anger.
I press my lips together before I say something I know I’ll regret, and a heavy silence fills the room with thick tension.
I finally stand and break the silence. “I need to get ready for lunch with Courtney’s mom.” I start to make my way toward my bathroom to finish my makeup.
“Of course you do,” he mutters.
I spin on my heel to face him. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” My voice rises again, as if I have no control over the volume.
He’s standing, facing me from ten feet away. “It means there’s always something else, Emme. There’s always something more important than me…than us. We’re talking about the future of our relationship—a pretty serious talk, if you ask me—and you’re finding a way out of it, a way to run away. I’m fucking tired of it.” He clenches the square jaw hidden beneath his beard. “Enjoy your lunch.” His voice is a hiss, and then he strides to my front door, opens it, and slams it shut behind him.
CHAPTER 10
EMME
Part of me wants to curl into my bed in a sobbing mess and cry into my blankets for the rest of the day. Part of me is so angry that I want to find Axel and just kick him square in the balls. Part of me knows this is my own fault, and the guilt presses heavily on my chest.
But I have to ignore all those parts of me, because I’m meeting Mrs. Sanders for lunch to talk about love and weddings and happy things—all the things I either don’t have or don’t want.
She’s rocking her eighties bangs as she walks into Los Tacos. I’m already working my way through my first margarita and munching on chips and salsa; I arrived early, so I figured I’d make the best out of it. Better to get hammered on margaritas before noon than worry one more second about what’s going on between Axel and me.
“Emme Rose!” she exclaims when she spots me. She makes her way over and I stand to give her a hug. She clings to me a little longer than is socially comfortable.
“Mrs. Sanders!”
“I think it’s okay to call me Lori now, sweetheart.”
“Okay then, Lori. Let’s figure out what we want to order and then get started.”
She peruses the menu—I already decided what I want ten minutes ago—and goes through the whole what do I want routine. I just want to order my food and get the ball rolling so I can get out of here. I’m antsy, and I know it’s because my conversation with Axel isn’t over. It’s on hold—we’re on hold—and that’s a little scary to think about as I sit here planning a wedding with someone else’s mother.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, so I pull it out. It’s then I realize I never checked the text I got when Axel knocked on my door.
The new one is from Courtney, but it can wait a second while I check the one from James.
James: Dinner, then. Or a drink. Coffee?
My initial thought is a big fat no…but now that I might be single, maybe seeing James again isn’t such a bad thing.
Me: I’m open for coffee tomorrow at noon. Does that work?
I open Court’s text while I wait for hi
s reply.
Courtney: Thanks for getting my mom off my back. I owe you BIG.
I glance up at Lori, and she’s still perusing the menu. I’m about to send a reply to Courtney when she looks up from her menu. “Okay, I’m getting tacos.”
Shocking that she would select tacos at a taco joint. I refrain from rolling my eyes and slip my phone back into my pocket. I don’t want to be the rude girl on her phone through the entire meal.
“So where should we start?” she asks after we place our orders.
“Bachelorette party?” I ask, and her eyes brighten.
“I had some ideas…” She trails off and raises her brows at me with a big, cheesy smile.
“So did I.”
She giggles like a schoolgirl. “I thought you might, and since you’re the maid of honor, I suppose I should leave that to you. When were you thinking? Do you have a guest list? Where do you want to take her? When should we do this? Can we invite her Auntie Alice, too?”
She’s firing too many questions at me. A bachelorette party really isn’t the place for Mom and Auntie Alice, but I already thought about that and have a plan in place.
“I thought we could go to Pink Agave for dinner since it’s her favorite, and that would be a good place for family. Then I thought when we hit the clubs, she might just want her circle of friends.”
Lori’s eyebrows furrow. “Hmm…just her friends.” I hold my breath. This could go one of two ways, and I’m hoping she isn’t offended that she’s not really invited to the second part of the evening.
Before she can comment on that, I add, “I was also thinking it might be nice to combine a wedding shower with the bachelorette party. So the shower could be in conjunction with the dinner, and then we go out afterward, but I couldn’t possibly plan a shower and the bachelorette party. It’s just too much for one person—do you think you could help me?”
Her eyes light up. “A shower? Yes, I would love to plan it!”
Thank God.
I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. It’s either James with a reply, Courtney with another text of gratitude, Axel letting me know our relationship is over, or something work-related. My hand dives immediately to my pocket, but I slowly inch my fingers away. I force myself to wait, even though the waiting just might kill me.
I’m just not sure if it’s waiting for the reply from James or the possible text from Axel that’s going to kill me.
We’re in the midst of chatting about her ideas for the shower—which are very pink and way too frilly for Courtney—when the waitress drops off our food. I salivate just looking at my fish tacos, and a bullet of sadness darts through me. Just the other day, Axel and I were making jokes about fish tacos, and now I’m not even sure where we left things. It just feels so wrong.
I pick up one of the tacos and take a bite, and it’s the best damn taco I’ve ever tasted. It still doesn’t erase the sadness, though, and I feel a stab of guilt that I agreed to a coffee date with an ex when everything is so up in the air with Axel.
My phone continues to buzz with messages throughout our meal, and I give myself an imaginary pat on the back for being so strong when all I want to do is see who is texting me.
Lori and I finish our lunch and solidify some plans since we don’t have much time. We agree that invitations will be verbal because we don’t have time to order and mail them out. She promises to call the people she wants at the shower today and I promise to call Pink Agave to schedule our shower-slash-bachelorette party for the following Saturday evening.
We’re all set, and I managed to occupy Courtney’s mom for a full three hours before releasing her back into the wild.
The very second I pop back into my car, I check my phone.
I have multiple texts—none from Axel, a couple from Courtney, a smattering of random friends, and one from James. I immediately open the one from James.
James: Yes. Is the Starbucks across from The Port okay?
The very last place in the world I think we should go is anywhere in the vicinity of The Port.
Me: There’s a cute little coffee place in Gaslamp called Beans and Things. Can we go there instead?
His reply is immediate.
James: Of course. See you there at noon.
I should’ve said no. I should’ve backed out.
But I didn’t.
CHAPTER 11
AXEL
Angry sex with Emme managed to alleviate the pain in my nuts, but the rage is still there. I drop the bomb that maybe we need to reevaluate things and she gives me some shit excuse about having to get ready for her lunch meeting? What-the-fuck-ever.
I sit in my office, pretty much pissed at the world. I went home first, but everything just reminded me of her. Now we’re in this strange place where I don’t know if we’re breaking up or if there’s potential for us to make it past this.
I check my messages, and Haley, the waitress who is supposed to be starting at two, called in sick. I rub my eyes. I slept like shit without Emme in my bed, worrying about where the fuck she was and why the fuck she wasn’t beside me.
I assumed she went home, but that didn’t make me feel much better. I still can’t sort out why she chose to go to her own apartment instead of my place. If she’s trying to send me signals that she’s done with me, she’s succeeding.
I pull up Kasey’s contact info to give her a call.
“Hey Ax-man,” she answers. Her voice is sleepy and a little groggy.
“Sorry. Did I wake you?”
“No, I was just getting up.”
“Liar.”
She chuckles.
“Listen, Haley’s out sick today and I need a waitress. If you want the early shift, it’s yours.”
“What time is it now?”
“One.”
“Can you give me an hour?”
“Yeah. See you then.” I end the call and head out to the bar. Looks like I’ll be waiting tables until Kasey gets in.
She arrives a little after two-thirty. “If you’re gonna cut it as a waitress, you need to get here when you say you will,” I snap at her.
She mock salutes me. “Sir, yes sir!”
“Fuck off,” I mutter.
“Someone’s got their panties in a bunch.”
I don’t acknowledge her comment, but she’s right. My panties are in a bunch. “You’ve got three tables in zone four.”
She gives me a look. It’s not crowded. The three tables are the only three occupied tables, and there’s a smattering of patrons sitting at the bar.
I ignore the look and head back to the bar to check on the customers seated there. Ben’s accepting deliveries in the back, so I’m watching the bar. Carter keeps nudging me to give Ben more responsibilities and cut back my own hours, but it seems like I’ve been working more and more since we bought this place. Maybe it has more to do with escaping my personal life—I don’t know.
So, I give him deliveries while I cut in on his shift. Hauling heavy ass boxes of glass bottles isn’t exactly my favorite part of the job, anyway.
One of the guys at the bar ordered a burger, so I head to the kitchen to see if it’s ready. The kitchen is back behind the bar down a short, private hallway. There’s a window with hot lamps where the chef sets the food when it’s done.
Kasey falls into step beside me just as I turn down the hallway and walks with me up to the window. I glance into the kitchen and see Vince over by the refrigerators. It’s quiet back here—not that it’s not quiet in the bar, but it just seems quieter than usual.
“Hey, boss.” She lays a hand on my arm. “Is everything okay with you?” She looks concerned.
My eyes stay level on hers. I’m not interested in the tits that are begging for attention, and I don’t think it’s appropriate for her hand to be on my arm.
I sigh in frustration and run a hand along my beard. When I lift my arm to do that, her hand falls from my skin. “I’m just going through some things.”
She takes a step closer to
me. “I can make you feel better.” Her voice is low and sultry, and I immediately know something bad is about to happen, yet I’m somehow powerless to stop it. Emme flashes through my mind, of course—she’s always on my mind. She doesn’t seem interested in me, but Kasey with her tits here does seem interested. Is it so wrong to want someone to want me? Is it so wrong to want some warmth when all I’ve gotten lately is ice?
Emme and I aren’t in a committed relationship because she won’t commit. Maybe it’s just words, and maybe it’s a poorly constructed justification, but that’s where my head’s at as Kasey takes another step toward me, her eyes hot on mine.
She slides her arms around my neck and pulls me down toward her.
I just stand there stupidly for a few seconds as her lips press to mine.
She pushes at the seam of my lips with her tongue, and I grant her access by opening my mouth. I can’t stop my tongue as it starts a slow dance with hers. It’s an automatic response.
Her arms tighten around my neck, and my hands go to her hips. My mind is playing a dangerous game. Pull her closer or push her away? Push, pull. Push, pull. It’s a fight, and I’m not sure which side is going to win.
Her hips feel different from Emme’s. Emme is thinner, bonier. Her hips jut out, giving me this perfect spot to press my tongue before I’m drawn down lower. Kasey is fit, too, but her hips are softer, and for a split second, my dick wonders what else might be softer.
No one can see us back here, but that doesn’t make it right. One of her hands goes up into my hair. She grips tightly. Push, pull. Push, pull.
This kiss feels good. It feels like someone cares about me again, and I’ve been missing that feeling ever since…I have to think about it, and it finally clicks.
Ever since I asked Emme to marry me. Ever since Emme said she doesn’t want to marry me.
Kissing Kasey is so different from kissing Emme. Sure, Kasey is more overtly sexual, but Emme is sensual. Emme and I have always had this connection that goes deeper than sex, but my friendship with Kasey is much more surface-level.