Wake Me Up (Love Knows No Boundaries)

by Michelle Horst

  “Aiden,” she says, and I lessen my hold on her so she can look up. The look slams hard into my gut and other places I shouldn’t be thinking with. She looks really anxious, vulnerable even, and again it makes my protective side flare to full capacity. “Sorry I grabbed hold of you back there.”

  I smile. “Katia can be a bit overwhelmin’,” I say to put her at ease. I should stop right there, but for some reason my mouth is not properly wired to my brain any more, “and I really don’t mind. I’d rather be dancing with you than sittin’ over there.”

  Her eyes leave mine, jumping to my chest, another nervous action. And then it hits me - she’s not nervous about Katia, it’s me, and I haven’t been out of it that long to know that it’s a sign that the attraction is mutual. I struggle to keep from smiling, knowing she’s all flustered because of me.

  “I want to ask you something,” she begins, “I don’t want you to ask me any questions and I won’t ask you any. I want …” She swallows hard. “You look like a pretty decent fellow and I’d like to get rat-arsed without Medusa over there.” Medusa, good one. “Then I’d like to shag you, as in a one night stand. No strings attached. Do you think you could do something like that?”

  I stop moving and people bump into us. It’s the last question I expected from her. Right now my mother would smack me upside the head. My brother would high-five me, and Zac would sigh with relief.

  Without thinking, I grab her hand and drag her out of the bar. Once we’re outside and I’m sure we’re alone, I turn to face her. “Do you have a death wish, Emma?” I snap. The detective in me takes over, because shit, I care about what happens to people. I’ve seen too many women assaulted and murdered to just walk away and not care. “What if I’m some psycho?”

  “You…” She looks shocked. “You’re not,” she says, and then glances away from me. She can’t even look at me. She sighs miserably and I hear it catch in her throat, and then she starts to walk away.

  “Hold on one damn minute there.” I take hold of her arm. “Why ask the first guy you see to go to bed with you?” She flushes a deeper shade of red. I frown, I can’t be wrong about her. I don’t sum up people wrong. I’ve done it for too long.

  “You’re not the first bloke I saw. There were some ugly blokes and then you.” She still won’t look at me. This is all about that stupid “wanting to experience things” for her.

  I shove my hands through my hair. I can’t just let her go. I’ll worry myself to death whether her face will pop up on my screen tomorrow as one of the missing ones. “You’re being damn near stupid,” I snap. I wish I could just talk some sense into her but I’ll blow my cover and I can’t risk that. Damn it all to hell.

  “And you want to get drunk?” I should be angry at her for being so careless with something as precious as her life, but I’m not. I’m just damn-well frustrated.

  She nods.

  “Why?” I hate the fact that I now sound like her father.

  “I’ve never been drunk. I want to know what’s so fancy about it that people keep doing it.” The look in her eyes makes me take a step closer. It’s not pain or heartache, it’s something else. “I’m not looking for a big brother. I have one of those. Tonight is all I’m giving myself. Sloshed, wonky, a shag, all of it.” Her eyes pin mine back for the first time. “Are you in or are you leaving?”

  Dammit! I can hear it now. Hey, Mama, I just wanted to let you know I did the noble thing and got a girl drunk. Then, I slept with her so no other guy would. It just doesn’t sound right. Maybe I can still change her mind.

  “Okay,” I agree. “I’m in.”

  She smiles brightly. Damn. Maybe she’ll change my mind.

  ~*~

  Not even one hour.

  Four drinks.

  And a few more attempts from Katia to grab hold of Emma in some way.

  That’s all it takes for Emma to grab my hand and drag me outside. She’s drunk all right. I was hoping to have more time to convince her otherwise.

  The nights are still warm even though it’s fall. Yeah, I’m trying to think of the weather and crap like that, but it all goes south when we get outside and Emma swings around. She slams hard into me and lifts herself up on her toes. I feel every curve press against me and my blood speeds up, racing a mile a minute. Her mouth presses hot on the corner of my lips. I think she was aiming to kiss me, but missed.

  “Let’s get you to a bed.” My voice comes out raspy, and I clear my throat as her hands slip down my chest. My muscles tighten under her touch as she drops them lower. I settle my hands over hers to keep them from going too low. I am a man, after all is said and done; I am still just a man.

  My new roommate is only coming in on Sunday. I’ll let her crash in his room for the night. But she doesn’t pass out as I hoped she would, on the drive over. She’s really cute, walking to the wrong side of the car, and her eyes go huge every time a car comes at us. She must still not be used to driving on the opposite side of the road.

  I stop outside the apartment block and watch her tug at her seatbelt as if it will just spring loose on her command. Like I said, real cute.

  “Let me get that for you.”

  I reach over and unsnap her, but before I can pull back her hands are soft on my face and slip into my hair, pulling me in.

  All kinds of dammits.

  “Wow, they do get more intense when I touch your face,” she murmurs against my mouth.

  “What?”

  “The tingles,” she admits with her new-found drunken bravery.

  I meant to put her to bed. I meant to be a gentleman. But there is only so much a man can take.

  Her hot mouth presses against mine and she teases me with those full lips I’ve been staring at. The second her tongue slips over my bottom lip, I grab for her hips, pulling her to my side of the car. I bring her leg over me so she’s straddling me. Just a little taste. I’ll allow myself a small taste of paradise.

  Then she moans and opens her mouth, and I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of heaven’s bliss. I thought I‘d been to heaven and back before, but this is different. She has me standing on the edge of the unknown, and when our tongues meet, I want to just free-fall. I dig my fingers into her hips, tugging her closer, and another moan drifts up her throat.

  I slip my hand up the back of her shirt, brushing her soft skin. I nip at her bottom lip. I’ve been wanting to do that since I spotted the tiny freckle Katia tried to wipe off earlier. I should thank Katia. If it wasn’t for her unwanted attention, Emma wouldn’t be sitting on my lap right now.

  The thought makes me hold her tighter, pressing her body into mine. She hums her approval as my fingers trail up her smooth skin towards her neck. Her shirt inches up with my arm, and I bring my other hand up to her exposed ribs. She feels so good.

  I should take her up. I should put her in bed. I shouldn’t touch her. I shouldn’t kiss her.

  She pulls away and takes hold of my hand resting on her ribs. Now there’s a lot I should’ve done and there’s a lot I shouldn’t be doing, but when she slips my hand under her shirt and presses it hard against her breast, it’s game over.

  Just one more slip of my hand and the slight piece of lace is no longer in my way, I have full access to all that soft flesh. The warmth of her skin, the hardening bud, coupled with her grinding her pelvis down into me, is unbelievably erotic.

  “Dammit, you’re hot,” I growl, before crushing my mouth against hers.

  She kisses me back with the same maddening frenzy, then she takes hold of my shirt, slipping her hands in underneath. I take hold of her hair, tilting her head. I break the kiss so I can taste her neck. Her skin is all creamy, and I start beneath her ear, working my way down to her neck. She moans and I feel the vibration against my lips.

  Then she surprises me by trailing her hands down and taking hold of my pants. She grinds down real hard into me, making my vision blur for a second. This is not good, I’m definitely not going to be able to keep control of anythin
g if she goes down there.

  Her fingers slip just in, brushing my overly sensitive skin, and the world spins out of control around me.

  Her mouth brushes my ear, making my body ache for her. “Do you want me to beg?” she whispers, and it’s just about the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.

  “Hell no,” I groan.

  It takes me mere seconds to get us out of the car and up the stairs.

  It only takes one second to cool us both right on down.

  “Aiden! Oh, good, you found Emma.” Ms. Jessie. There is nothing like Ms. Jessie to sober you up, cool you down and put you back on the straight and narrow. It’s like your grandmother walking in on you.

  “I found Emma?” I’m completely lost as I stand with my arm around her feeling her whole body stiffen next to me.

  “Your roommate. She came early and I let-” Ms. Jessie’s eyes widen and we hear a garbled ‘pardon me’ before Emma runs for my door.

  I see her take the key from her pocket, and really it should all start making sense by now.

  Miss Jessie continues making no sense at all. “I went and got it wrong on the application. You see, she’s a girl and not a guy like I’d gone and thought.”

  Wait? Emma’s my roommate? Emma is E. Walker?

  Why didn’t I see that one coming? Damn, all kinds of dammits, just … DAMMIT!

  ~*~

  Chapter Three

  Emma~

  Kill me.

  I want to die. Let me die. I need to die.

  Die. Die. Die.

  But I don’t. Instead I heave, again and again, and I swear I’ll never touch alcohol again, if only the world will turn back on its axis and I won’t feel this sick any more.

  Seconds later, I still want to die.

  The one night I get rat-arsed and I gather enough guts to throw myself at a bloke, he turns out to be my bloody flatmate. It took everything I had to ask him and not just high-tail it out of the pub.

  The only reason I went through with it was because it actually felt nice to touch him. It felt nice being touched by him. The drinks tasted awful but I drank them, and now I’m paying for it in the most horrid of ways.

  And I didn’t get shagged.

  I’m still a virgin.

  And now I’ll have to find a new place to stay. I have to phone Chloe and tell her what a massive failure I am. She’ll help me figure this mess out. The thought makes me feel even more miserable, and that jug of sand lodges itself back in my throat.

  “Emma.” His voice is too kind for what I did. He should be disgusted with me; especially seeing as I’m hanging onto a germ-infested toilet for the little my life is still worth.

  “Please go away,” I groan. I don’t want him to see me like this. If I look like I feel, then they can use me for a scarecrow somewhere.

  I shouldn’t have talked, because my body starts heaving again. I’m hot, and just feeling plain old awful. Sloshed-awful. I flush and take my jacket off. It’s still hot, and I peel my shirt off. It’s instantly cooler and better. If I can get into the shower without breaking my neck, I’ll be alright.

  One step at a time. First teeth. The basin jumps in front of me and I stumble toward the middle point. My stomach rolls, and I stop. The basin or the loo? I wait to see what my stomach decides.

  “You’re going to fall and hurt yourself. So, how about I just help you get settled in.” His arm slips around my waist and the world stops tipping to the side. His arm feels so nice. I never knew it could feel so good to be touched by someone. I only knew what it felt like to be touched by my mother, and the thought alone makes my stomach roll.

  “I want to brush my teeth.” I want to cry because I feel so bloody awful, but first I need to get rid of the taste of alcohol.

  “Let’s do that, then.” His voice comes closer and he presses his chest against my back. If I can just lean back and close my eyes for a second. “No, Emma.” My eyes snap open. “Teeth,” he whispers to me, and I reach for the jumping items.

  The basin rushes toward me as I grab for it, and it makes my stomach lurch. When I try to squirt some toothpaste on the brush, it decides to jump and I get it on my hand.

  “Let me get that for you,” he says. His arms wrap around me and he takes hold of my hands to steady them.

  “You’re so nice.” It sounds as if I’m whining. I am so not making a great first impression. I wouldn’t want to shag a whiny me. I think I’ve done just about everything possible to put off a bloke for good.

  I brush my teeth more than once. Four or five times, I think. But the taste of the horrid alcohol is still there. I give up and reach for my mouthwash. I rinse a few times, and I’m about to start drinking the rest when Aiden takes the bottle from me.

  “You’re minty enough. Off to bed now.”

  “Can I shower first?” I’ve moved onto whimpering. Next step is crying. Gosh, I’m a rotten drunk.

  I pull a face, but I’m half asleep already and I really don’t care. He’s right, I should go and sleep before I start crying. That would just be the cherry on top of the monumental disaster I’ve been tonight. I lean back against him and close my eyes until the smell of alcohol wafts up my nostrils. I reek of her, my mother.

  “I need to shower. I need to get her off me.”

  I move towards the shower and turn the water on. Now if I was sober I’d care, but clearly I don’t, because I stumble in clothes and all.

  People do nutty things when they’re sloshed. Some people are fun, some get angry and mean, others go all depro. Me? I’m not so sure about me. I thought I’d be like my mother.

  But instead I get all tangled in my jeans around my knees. Yeah, all Emma style, I arse-plant right there in the shower. I suppose I’m just daft.

  “You can’t even stand, babe.” He doesn’t sound upset as he helps me up, and I miraculously step out of my jeans without arse-planting in front of him again.

  My chest tightens and I close my eyes. It didn’t sound the same. It didn’t. I tell myself this once more. He didn’t sound anything like her when he called me babe.

  I open my eyes and the first thing I notice is the drops running down his face. His eyes have darkened to charcoal as they start at my legs and travel back up to meet my eyes. His hands drop from my arms to my waist, and I feel his fingers pressing into my skin. The tingles are back, spreading through my body, and it feels intoxicating in a way the alcohol couldn’t make me feel. I want to feel the way he made me feel in the car. I don’t want to think. I want to lose myself again until there’s only that maddening rush inside me. I’ve never felt as alive as I did in that moment while we were kissing.

  I take in his wet clothes. Oh, he looks dishy in wet clothes. I reach for the hem of his shirt and tug it up.

  “You’re wet, Aiden.”

  Like he didn’t know that already! But it’s all my alcohol-drenched mind can come up with as an excuse to get under his clothes.

  Even in my smashed stupor I falter, or maybe it’s because I’m so smashed. His skin is hot and silky wet and bloody hell – there’s lots of ink covering his skin. I glance up and he pins me with those penetrating grays of his.

  I still want tonight to happen so very badly, but I’ll have to leave then. There’s no way I can share a flat with him. I open my mouth to speak and he leans in closer, pressing me lightly into the tiles. The tingles explode in my stomach, sending a wave of nervous excitement up to my heart. The words get lost in my throat, and I tighten my hold on his shirt.

  “Be careful what you ask of me, Emma. I’m trying real hard here.” He moves in even closer and, heart pounding, I push his shirt up, until he has to let it pass between us.

  OMG. He’s a work of art, all hard muscle and ink. My insides clench and I bite at my cheek to keep myself from saying something embarrassing, something like ‘take me now’.

  My eyes zero in on his right arm and chest, both inked with some sort of tribal design. I follow the pattern from his shoulder over his chest, and woven into the de
sign is the head of an eagle. I swallow and reach for him, for the eagle.

  I’m standing in the shower of my new home that’s supposed to offer me a place to hide. All I wanted to do tonight was find out why she does it. For once I wanted to be in control, but I’m not. I’m losing control.

  Tracing the outline of the eagle, I know there’s no way I can use him. I watched a documentary once on an eagle. I watched it soar, be free from everything and everyone, and I wanted that. Its cry was the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.

  I press closer until there’s no water or air between us, only the heat of our skin, and I whisper against him what I want most.

  “If I had wings I'd fly, I'd soar on high where only eagles dare. I'd let them rip, I'd let them tear, until all that remained was me bare.” I press my cheek against the eagle embedded just beneath his skin, closing my eyes.

  The water disappears, and before I can get cold, he wraps a towel around me. Somehow the bed appears before me, and I watch it for a second.

  “Next time it comes around I’ll get on.”

  I deserve to feel miserable.

  I get out of the wet underwear and dry myself. Once I’m in my PJ’s, I climb into the bed and lie as still as I can. The world tilts and turns, and every movement makes my stomach wobble. The bed moves, and I peel my eyes open.

  “Drink this.” Aiden holds a glass out to me, and I take a few sips. I wait for it to come up, but when it settles deep down, I take a few more.

  “Why are you being nice to me? I haven’t been nice to you,” I groan, feeling more miserable by the second.

  I flop down against him. He is really nice. It’s a shame he’s not the one. Got all sloshed, but I didn’t manage to lose my virginity. So much for killing the two big-arsed birds with one stone.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been nice to you. I’m a knackered, stupid girl. You would’ve liked the real me.” I groan. Oh, but as if that isn’t enough, I keep mumbling, and if I don’t stop I’ll start drooling on him soon, “Why is it such a hard thing to lose? I’m going to die one. I’m going to be the only one left on the bloody planet.”