The Rule Breaker

by Cat Carmine

  He turns to a tiny, white-haired lady in a crocheted cardigan sitting on the end seat.

  “Will you hold this?” he asks, handing her the microphone.

  “Of course,” she says, then repeats it into the microphone for everyone’s benefit. “Of course.”

  The audience laughs, but they’re nothing but a blur in my vision, a buzz in my ear.

  “I love you,” I say to Tyler.

  His hands are in my hair, pushing it back out of my face as he gazes down at me. “I love you too.”

  Then he kisses me, and it’s everything — everything I ever wanted. His lips are soft but commanding, and when his tongue strokes against mine, I want to cry in pleasure. My hands fly over his body, his chest, his back, his shoulders, as if to remind myself of everything I’ve been missing.

  “Well, I think I’m going to have to get myself a copy of this book,” I hear, as the audience erupts into laughter. I look down and see the white-haired lady wiping her glasses, still clutching the microphone.

  “You don’t need a book,” I tell her. “Just be yourself and find someone who loves you that way.”

  Tyler squeezes my waist, and I look back at up at him.

  “Will you take me out of here?” I ask.

  “Hell yes.”

  I let him lead me the rest of way up the aisle, to the back of the studio, and then out into the lobby.

  “Where to?” he asks.

  “Anywhere.” And I mean it. As long as I’m with Tyler, anywhere sounds good.

  Thirty

  Anywhere turns out to be the St. Regis, a gorgeous hotel just a hop, skip, and a jump from the Channel Nine studios. Tyler checks us in as I stand next to him, shifting anxiously from foot to foot. The five minutes we spend standing there seem to take a lifetime, but then we’re riding the elevator up to the ninth floor, and my palms are sweating in anticipation.

  We tumble into the room together, our hands already exploring and winding around each other’s bodies. I rip at his jacket, pulling it off his shoulders, and fumble with the buttons on his shirt. Why do they have to make these things so damn small?

  Tyler pushes off the white jacket I’m wearing then steps back to take in the green dress.

  “I like this,” he says, stroking the fabric.

  “It’s my sister’s,” I admit. I’d borrowed Blake’s dress again, because the studio had insisted I wear something with color, and, to be honest, I kind of like the way I look in it.

  “You should keep it,” he says. “But right now, I’m going to peel it off you.”

  “Good.”

  I turn and let him pull down the zipper. He does it so slowly that I can feel every tooth as it tugs apart. The soft fabric slips down over my body and pools on the floor at my feet.

  Before I can turn, Tyler is pressed against me. He kisses the back of my neck, then runs his hands down the length of my body, skimming over my ribs and my hips before coming back up to cup my breasts.

  “God, Emma, you have no idea how much I missed you.”

  “I think I do,” I murmur, turning around in his arms so I can see his face again. “Because it’s probably how much I missed you, too. I’m so sorry about everything.”

  His brow furrows. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

  “I do. I was kind of a bitch to you, especially when you were just trying to get me to lighten up a bit.”

  He shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have pushed you so far. It was stupid of me to think I knew you better than you knew yourself.”

  “You did, though. In some ways, anyway.”

  “Yeah?”

  I smile. “Yeah. Sweet and spicy, remember?”

  “Oh, I remember.” His gaze is hot, burning into every part of me. “So, which will it be today?” he asks. “Sweet?” He takes my hand gently, kissing my fingertips. “Or spicy?” He sucks one of my fingers between his lips, making my stomach flip-flop.

  “You know what? I refuse to choose. I want both.”

  His eyes flash with desire. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

  His hands wind through my hair, and then suddenly he’s dipping me low, kissing me so deeply and passionately that my legs give out completely. It’s the perfect kiss, spicy and sweet and a thousand flavors in between.

  When I can breathe again, I lead him to the bed.

  “I missed your hands,” I whisper, guiding his palms to my breasts.

  “My hands missed you, too.” He shoves down the cups of my bra to thumb my nipples, and I remember exactly why I missed those hands so much. My breasts pucker and pull, taut and tingling under his touch.

  “I missed your cock, too,” I tell him, running my hand over the growing bulge in the dark pants that he’s still wearing.

  He chuckles, though there’s nothing funny about my words or about the desire that flashes in his eyes. “My cock missed you, too.”

  I undo the zipper and free his shaft, feeling another thrill when it bobs towards me, already hard and ready and dripping with the most delicious looking dot of pre-cum.

  Tyler takes his hands off me long enough to shuck off his shirt and kick away his pants and boxer briefs. When he stands in front of me, naked and oh so ready, I lick my lips.

  “Don’t think I’ll be needing these,” I say, stripping off the lacy panties I’m wearing.

  He chuckles again. “No, I don’t think you will. At least not for the next two days.”

  “Two days?”

  “If I have my way.”

  “So two days of fucking?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “And then what?”

  The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Old Emma never would have asked a question like that — it’s against the rules, after all. But the new Emma thinks rules are meant to be broken.

  “Then …” Tyler licks his lips, then runs them over my jaw. “Then a lifetime. If you want it.”

  I swallow. Make myself nod.

  “I want it, Tyler,” I whisper. “I want everything with you.”

  Somehow, with the words finally spoken, the last wall is shattered. I finally feel ready to give myself to him completely.

  When we’re both naked, he settles on the bed between my knees. For a second, a flash of nerves come over me. Everything feels different this time. It’s real now. No more pretending. No more resisting.

  No more condoms, either. I grab his wrist as he reaches for the foil packet and lightly shake my head. A grin splits his face, and he tosses the packet on the nightstand. His hands cup my face as he holds himself over me.

  “I couldn’t love you more, Emma,” he whispers. His voice is hoarse, thick with desire and something that I recognize now as love. Real love.

  “Ditto,” I whisper, which makes him laugh. I graze my lips over his and pull his hips towards me. “Now please shut-up and fuck me already.”

  He dips his head, laughing again. “I see Spicy Emma has entered the building.”

  There’s no more time for talking or jokes, because Tyler is spreading my thighs, running his cock along my slit, and every nerve in my body sings. I bite my lip, trying to hold back the moan that wants to escape.

  “Let it out, Emma,” he rumbles.

  He runs his cock over my entrance, spreading my wetness around, coating himself in my juices, readying himself and me. When he pushes the tip against me, I groan.

  “Oh, God, Tyler. Yes. Yes.”

  He slides in slowly, and the feel of his skin against mine, with no latex barrier between us, is the most exquisite thing I’ve ever experienced. I pull his hips, wanting to feel him deeper inside me, but there’s no hurrying Tyler. He savors the moment, pushing in so slowly, so deeply, until I can feel him all the way into my soul.

  When our bodies are fully joined, he pauses. He looks down at me, and the expression on his face is half joyful, half bewildered. I know the feeling. Who knew it could feel this good?

  But there’s more goodness to be had, still. Tyler mo
ves his hips, slowly at first, and then faster, picking up the pace as my walls squeeze around him. I cling to his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin, trying to find purchase, as if I were scaling some vast height.

  I whimper his name, again and again, like a chant, and he echoes every incantation with one of his own. We’re completely in sync, moving as one, both of us chasing after the same sun.

  It takes no time at all, it seems, before I’m clenching around him, my nerves on fire, my bones melting, my muscles cording under the weight of his body.

  Then the explosion. Like dying and being born at the same time. Like a fractal prism, where every version of Emma shatters and turns to colored light. My body bucks against his, and I think I might scream, though I’m not sure there are words involved. We’re past the point of words.

  I feel the moment Tyler lets go, too, even if I couldn’t see the way his face goes slack and almost stunned. For the first time, I can feel him filling me, and it makes me feel reverent in a way that takes me completely by surprise. I clench around, greedily wanting to milk every last drop of his pleasure, wanting to claim it for my own.

  When it’s over, he collapses onto the bed beside me. Both of us seem to have forgotten how to breathe, and it takes a long minute to remember. Tyler reaches his arm out and pulls me against his chest, and I’m glad, because even a second without touching him seems to be too much. At least right now.

  “Wow,” I finally manage to breathe.

  “Yeah.” He runs his lips along my jaw. “I hope you don’t have anything else planned today. Because I wasn’t joking when I said I want two days of nothing but this and more of this.”

  I giggle. “Nothing else planned. The Channel Nine interview was the only thing I had to do today.”

  Oh my God. The interview.

  I sit up straight, looking down at Tyler.

  “What’s wrong?” He sits up, too, his face concerned.

  “I just realized … I literally walked out of the studio in the middle of the interview.”

  “Um, yeah.” His brow furrows.

  “How could you let me do that?”

  He chuckles. “In case you’ve forgotten, you were the one who asked me to take you out of there.”

  I rub my forehead. “Oh God. You’re right. I just … walked out.”

  Suddenly, I’m overtaken with a fit of laughter. Of all the stupid things I’ve done recently, walking out in the middle of a live television segment seems to really take the cake. I even left my purse in the green room.

  And for the first time, I couldn’t care less. Because right now, at this moment, I know I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

  Of course, that’s not going to stop me from sending Charlie an email later to apologize. Maybe I’ll even send a gift.

  “You aren’t the only one who walked out on something today,” Tyler says, drawing me back to the moment.

  “What are you talking about? Oh, crap, were you at work?” I think back to the suit and tie that I’d so frantically ripped off him earlier.

  “Something like that,” he says.

  When he doesn’t elaborate, I poke him. “What’s up, Tyler? Something’s bothering you.”

  He shrugs, then adjusts the pillow so that he can lean back against it.

  “I was in a meeting with my father,” he admits. “Trying to convince him that he should let me keep the job at Good Grant Books. I saw your interview playing on one of the televisions in his office. I couldn’t let you just sit there, crying on the stage of a morning talk show.”

  I clap my hand over my mouth. “Tyler! You should have told me. What’s going on?”

  Then he tells me everything, about his father’s fury after we’d embarrassed him the night of the gala, about Tyler’s bid to convince him he was still the right man for the job. I can see in his face that he’s upset about the situation, even though he tries to keep his tone light. I think he’s just trying not to upset me.

  As he talks, I rub his chest. My heart aches for him, at the way he’s changed and grown so much since we met, only to be left out on a limb like this.

  “You deserve that job,” I tell him when he’s done. “Your father would have to be an idiot not to see that.”

  “The man may be a lot of things, but he’s not an idiot.”

  “Then he has to come around, Tyler. You just need to prove to him that you’re serious. That you deserve this.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just not sure how. I’m not sure he’s going to take another meeting with me, especially not after I ran out on this one.”

  Guilt fills me. I know the only reason he ran out was because of me. I vow to myself that I’ll make this up to him. I have no idea how yet, but somehow.

  I know how I can start, though.

  I let my fingers trail down his chest, over his abs, and down his hips. I find his cock half-hard, and when my fingers squeeze around it, it stiffens more. Tyler groans. I position myself between his knees and grin at him.

  “For coming to my rescue,” I tell him, before dipping my head towards him.

  A couple of hours later, we’re both limp and wrung out and deliriously happy.

  “Room service?” Tyler asks, running his hands through my sweaty, tangled hair.

  “That sounds great. Make sure you get lots of carbs.”

  Tyler grins. “On it.”

  When he crawls back into bed a few minutes later, he plants a line of kisses across my collarbone.

  “Question for you,” he asks, distracting me as he runs his tongue along the soft hollows of my skin.

  “Anything,” I pant.

  He grins. “How do you feel about babies?”

  My eyes widen, and Tyler bursts out laughing.

  “Not like that. Well … someday. Someday, I definitely want to see you all soft and curvy and pregnant. But in this case, I’m talking about someone else’s baby.”

  “Who?” I ask, trying not to sound too relieved. New Emma might be up for breaking some rules, but accidental pregnancies aren’t one of them.

  “My sister. Lacy. She’s here in the city, and she had her baby.”

  “She is? She did?” I clap my hands together. “Tyler, that’s so exciting.”

  “Yeah, it was a whirlwind. Well, probably more so for her,” he chuckles. “Anyway, she and her husband are here in the city for another couple of weeks, and it would really mean a lot to me if you came to meet her. I think you two would like each other.”

  “I would be honored.” I glow.

  “Good.” His tongue is back against my collarbone, and then it dips lower, lower, to the space between my breasts. “Now, I think we have at least twenty minutes before room service gets here. How about we try to make the most of it?”

  Thirty-One

  The next day, Tyler takes me to the First Presbyterian Hospital to meet his sister, her husband, and their new baby.

  I admit, I’m nervous. We go straight from the hotel, so I wear the same green dress of Blake’s that I’d worn on Wake Up New York! the day before. It’s probably for the best — if I’d been able to go home to change first, I would have spent a good couple of hours agonizing over what to wear.

  I’m nervous about meeting someone from Tyler’s family. The only other person I’ve ever met was his father, and both those occasions weren’t my finest moments. At least when I meet Lacy, I won’t be ass-up, naked on a staircase. I mean, I’m assuming. I suppose there’s still room for error.

  But no, everything goes smoothly, and we arrive at the hospital in good shape. We stop in the gift shop so I can get some flowers — hey, I might be leaving some parts of Old Emma behind, but you can’t turn your nose up at good manners. Then we ride the elevator up to the fifth floor, where they’re staying.

  I expect to find a regular hospital room, but the space Lacy and her family are occupying seems to be almost a suite. One with a better view than my apartment. I had no idea the hospital even had rooms like this, but I suppose whe
n you have Good Grant money, you can make that kind of thing happen.

  The room is filled with huge bouquets of flowers, and my small arrangement from the gift shop looks pretty pitiful in comparison. Still, Lacy’s face lights up when I hold them out to her.

  “You have to be Emma,” she says. “Come here and give me a hug.” She holds her arms out from the bed, where she’s propped up against a nest of pillows. She has Tyler’s dark hair, which is now pulled into a fat bun on top of her head, and she’s wearing a plush robe and a pair of bunny slippers.

  I go over and hug her carefully, and the hug she returns is strong and fierce. I like her immediately, and not just because of the bunny slippers or because I hear her hiss, “Oh my God, she’s pretty!” at Tyler.

  I pull away, laughing.

  “Postpartum hormones,” Lacy explains. “I can’t be held responsible for anything I might say or do.”

  “Fair enough,” I agree. “Well, it’s great to meet you, regardless.”

  “You, too. Bringing you here was just a formality, of course — Tyler already knows I approve. Ever since I found out you were the one who told him to text me.”

  “Oh, yeah, that was me,” I grin. “He just needed a little prodding.”

  “We both did,” Lacy admits. “But I’m glad he finally did it. It feels good to be back in New York. I swear, at some point I’m even going to make it outside. Or at least past the parking lot.”

  “Can we smuggle you in anything?” I ask. “Pretzels? Bagels? Pizza?”

  She groans. “I’d kill for a banana split martini from the King Fisher.”

  I tap the side of my nose. “We’ll see what we can do.”

  I glance at Tyler and find him smiling at the two of us. When he catches me looking, he winks. It fills me with a warm glow.

  Before I can say anything else, a nurse arrives in the room, pushing a bassinet.

  “Oh, there’s my little guy,” Lacy coos. “Is he sleeping?”

  “No, he’s just checking everything out,” the nurse smiles. “He’s very alert. Would you like him in the crib, or would you like to hold him?”