Tracing the Stars

by Amanda Richardson

  “Oh my god,” I whisper, completely out of control. I shudder as he slows his pace.

  “Again.”

  I drop my head and face him. He’s moving slowly, in and out, and he’s watching me raptly.

  “What?”

  “I want you to come again,” he says, a devilish grin on his handsome face. “I love watching you.”

  “But I just—”

  “Think of something about me that turns you on,” he says, keeping his pace extremely slow and scrutinizing me with narrowed eyes.

  “Your heart,” I say automatically. “I love your heart.”

  He stops for a brief second, his whole face full of shock and… something else. Something tender and vulnerable.

  “You love my heart?” he asks, but before I can even open my mouth, he slams into me, not deep enough to worry me, but enough to switch things up.

  “Oh shit,” I moan, my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

  He slams into me again, sending my head into the crate, but I barely notice. He doesn’t stop. I don’t want him to stop. I close my eyes and focus on the feeling of him inside of me—full, satiating, exquisite. I feel fulfilled physically, emotionally…

  “Emilia,” he says softly, and my name on his lips tug at something deep-rooted inside of me. Again, the feeling that overcomes me surprises me—trust, friendship, companionship… affection. “Fuck,” he whispers, and then I let go. “Look at me,” he grunts, and I open my eyes.

  The words I utter escape quickly in the heat of the moment. “I love…” I trail off, closing my eyes as the orgasm rolls through me.

  “Emilia.” My eyes snap to his. The chartreuse is darker now—a forest green to match his scent—and they’re wild with hooded desire. He moves quickly, roughly. I watch him, spellbound, as the feeling of my own climax slides down to my legs. I want to see him come undone for me.

  Finally.

  His eyes lose focus as he groans, and it’s glorious. He shudders as the orgasm rips through him. His features soften with an unexpected vulnerability. I watch him the whole time. He bends down to kiss me gently as the last of it leaves our bodies.

  “You love…?” he asks, setting me down and reaching into his pocket for a tissue. He hands it to me as I clean myself up.

  I shake my head, embarrassment burning my face. Did I really just almost confess my love to him?

  “I love your heart,” I reiterate, placing my right palm on his chest. When I look up at him, he’s scowling.

  “We should go,” he says quickly, buttoning his pants and then helping me as I pull mine up my legs. He helps me into my boots.

  “Leo,” I whisper, tugging on his shirt. “I…”

  “I know,” he whispers, nipping my lip with his teeth. “And just so you know, I’m nowhere near finished with you, but right now, we need to go so that we can get to the hotel room as fast as possible.”

  We leave our hiding spot, grab our luggage, and make our way down the stairs to the terminal. We walk down the hallway and emerge in the baggage claim area.

  When I look over at Leo, he looks distracted, miles away… I reach out for his hand just as his face pales. When I follow his gaze, my stomach drops.

  Jake is waiting for us.

  And he’s carrying flowers.

  T W E N T Y - F I V E

  Leo

  I GRIND MY teeth together as I force a smile.

  “Jake,” I say, pulling him into a tight hug. I squeeze my eyes shut and pray the flowers aren’t for Emilia.

  But of course they are.

  “Welcome home!” he yells, slapping me on the back and pulling away. “You look pale as fuck, let’s get some beer and burgers in you.”

  I nod just as his eyes leave mine and find Emilia. They flick adoringly from her face to her small, protruding stomach.

  No.

  Something feral and protective unleashes in me as his hand moves out and touches her belly. She gives him a shy smile. Her eyes dart to mine, and though she seems calm, her eyes tell me everything.

  She’s panicked. She wasn’t expecting to see him again. And when he hands her the flowers, she takes them half-heartedly.

  “I know, I know,” Jake mumbles. He looks nervous. “Can I explain?” He’s not even paying attention to me anymore.

  And then it hits me.

  He didn’t come here for me.

  He came here for her.

  I want to walk away. I want to run and never look back. But my feet stay planted, because I have to know. I have to know.

  “Jake,” Emilia says, something final in her voice. “I thought you didn’t want to be involved?”

  He lowers his head in shame. “If I’m being honest, I’m still not sure that I do. But… you’re carrying my baby. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. About you.” He looks down at his shoes. “I know it’s weird, me being your boss’s friend.”

  “Ex-boss,” I mutter, and Emilia cocks a small smile.

  Jake sighs and looks over his shoulder at me. “Could I have a few minutes, Leo?”

  He has no idea.

  I can’t tell him anything.

  I have to tell him everything.

  I nod and walk away. When he’s done trying to woo Emilia, I have to tell him the truth. If I explain what happened—that we waited to do anything until we talked to him, that we couldn’t control it—maybe he’d give us his blessing. And if he really wants to make a monogamous relationship work—something he’s never been capable of doing—then I will gracefully back off.

  I sulk and wander around the baggage claim as I watch them from the corner of my eye. Jake is talking animatedly, and Emilia looks shocked. And then she laughs, placing her hand on his arm, and I see red.

  Mine. She’s mine.

  I was inside of her just ten minutes ago. If he knew that…

  I shake my head and sigh. I am deplorable. Competing with my best friend? It’s sick. But I can’t take it anymore.

  And the baby?

  He doesn’t know that the baby currently weighs two pounds and has translucent skin. He doesn’t know the baby’s heart rate was 145bpm at the last appointment, or that she’ll likely go into labor a couple of days early because it’s her first baby. He doesn’t even know the difference between active labor and Braxton-Hicks contractions.

  I do. I know those things. I have to tell him. I have to tell him that I’m in love with her. I walk back to Jake and Emilia. With a newfound resolve, I tap him on the shoulder.

  “Can I have a word with you?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm. In reality, a war is waging between my love for Emilia and my loyalty to Jake.

  “Sure, man. I’ll be back,” he says, kissing her quickly on the cheek and following me to a secluded corner.

  “Look,” I start, unsure of what to say. Jake stops me.

  “I know it’s sudden and unexpected.” He bites his lower lip and sighs, looking away. “The truth is, I’ve never done something like this before. It could be an exciting adventure.” He looks over to where she’s standing. “I think I like her. If it’s weird because she’s your assistant,” he starts, talking slowly.

  He thinks he likes her.

  I know I love her.

  “No, that’s not it,” I mutter, interrupting him and rubbing my face with my hands.

  Jake puts his hands on my shoulder and shakes me. “I was there for you with the whole Margaret ordeal. I know I’m a shitty person for waiting to say something,” he continues, sighing. “Think of it as your thank you gift to me for letting you crash on my fucking sofa for three months,” he laughs, shoving me playfully.

  I’ve never hated myself more than I do in this moment.

  “Why now?” I ask calmly, holding my hands up in question.

  Jake chuckles. “I don’t know. Maybe the thought of her finding another man and raising my baby with him really set me off,” he adds, grimacing.

  Fuck.

  My face must fall, because his eyes suddenly narrow
.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Could you love her?” I ask, my voice tentative.

  He looks at her as she paces a few hundred feet away. “Probably,” he says, his voice unsure. “I’m not looking for marriage, or the whole family road trip thing, but the truth of the matter is, she’s having my baby. Love doesn’t really factor in, you know?” He winks. “I can have the old ball and chain at home while I peruse the streets for a mistress.”

  Like hell he will.

  I bite my lower lip and look away. It’s now or never.

  “Well, I do love her,” I say quietly.

  Jake bursts out laughing. “Good one. You fucker, you haven’t changed!” He slaps my back and begins to walk away.

  “I am in love with her, Jake. And I think she loves me, too. And you know what? She deserves love and attention and all of the fucking adoration in the world. An old ball and chain? Over my dead body, Hansen.”

  He stops walking, and his body stiffens. Slowly, he turns. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  I shake my head, cross my arms, and place my feet shoulder-width apart. A fighting stance. “Dead serious.”

  I will fight for her.

  Jake rubs his lips angrily. “You hid this from me all winter?”

  I scoff. “Hid it? Jake, you fucked her once and then abandoned her when she told you she was pregnant. It wasn’t like you wanted to be a part of her life!” I yell. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Emilia begin to walk toward us.

  “Wow,” Jake mutters, shaking his head. “I’ve always been one-hundred percent honest with you, Leo. It hurts that the same can’t be said for you.”

  A wave of guilt passes through me. “I’m sorry. I can’t just stand by as you conduct your family experiment with the woman I love. She deserves so much more than that. I’m not asking you to stay away. You can and should be in this kid’s life as much as you want. I’m only asking—no, begging you—to let me love her. Let me have the family road trip thing. You can still fuck around and be a good father to this baby.”

  Jake sneers at me, a disgusted look on his face. “I never thought you would betray me. Of all people.”

  “Jake,” I reply, my voice hoarse. “I’m not betraying you. I’m telling you the truth.”

  “Did you fuck her?” he asks, his voice sharp and quiet.

  Shit.

  “Jake, I—”

  “It’s a simple question, Leo.”

  I slump my shoulders. “Yes.”

  Jake blows out a loud breath of air and widens his eyes as he looks down at his shoes. “If you’d asked me in the beginning—if you’d been honest with me from day one, I would’ve let you have her. You’re my best friend. Practically my brother. But you lied to me, Leo—”

  “I didn’t lie!” I bark as several people whip around to look at us. “I wasn’t expecting to feel what I feel, okay?”

  “Not telling me is the same as lying,” he growls. “You can have her. In fact, I wish you both nothing but happiness.” He watches me incredulously. “I’m so glad I came all the way out here to see you. To see her. Now I feel like an idiot.”

  He turns and walks away. “Jake,” I yell, but he only holds a hand up with one finger extended. He’s flipping me off. Great.

  I sigh and turn to find Emilia watching on, horrified.

  “I had no idea,” she murmurs, shaking her head. “I hadn’t heard from him since—”

  “It’s not your fault. I should’ve known. That man doesn’t like other dogs pissing on his territory.” I sigh and walk over to the luggage carousel. “It’s my fault. I should’ve done the right thing and told him in the beginning.”

  “He’ll forgive you,” she coos, taking my hand. It feels so good to be held by her.

  “He will. Eventually. But that doesn’t stop me from being sorry.”

  “I can talk to him, if you think that would help,” she offers. The carousel begins to move, and we both look for our suitcases.

  I shrug. “He needs a few hours. We can meet up with him later, once he’s cooled down.”

  She nods and points to a large bag. “There’s my suitcase.”

  Once we’ve retrieved our four suitcases, I call us a taxi and we begin the journey to the hotel. The entire way, Emilia holds my hand.

  She almost admitted she loves me. Smiling, I look away and out the window. For the next two days, it’s going to be my mission to make her say it, because I know it’s true.

  Because I love her, too.

  And Jake will forgive me. I know he will.

  Eventually.

  We don’t bother getting two hotel rooms. Since we only have two hours until we meet Gretchen and Damien for dinner, I drop the suitcases as soon as we’re alone and pull her small, warm body into mine as I kiss her fervently.

  “Leo,” she says in a low, guttural voice. If I weren’t already busting at the seam of my pants, eager for round two, that voice alone would make me hard.

  She moves against me. I can feel her, smell her, touch her unabashedly.

  So soft. So fruity. So completely sexy in all of her pregnant glory.

  She’ll be the death of me, because I’m certain it’s not healthy to crave someone as much as I crave her. I bite her lip tenderly, and she moans.

  God save me.

  “Emilia,” I say, my voice raspy.

  “Shh,” she urges, unzipping my straining zipper.

  And then she gets on her knees.

  Fuck. Me.

  My whole body tenses as she takes me in her hand. My heart is pounding in my chest. I can’t remember the last time I wanted something this much.

  I suck in a deep hiss as her fingers hold me, and then her mouth follows, and I instantly submit. The warm, wet feeling of her lips on my cock…

  I don’t dare look down. I know I’ll lose it if I do. The touch of her smooth hands enhances everything. She moans as she works.

  Holy shit.

  Never, not once in my life, have I enjoyed a blowjob as much as this one. It’s her—the key player in all of my fantasies since age fourteen. It’s her.

  It’s always been her.

  “God, Emilia. What the hell are you doing to me?” I ask, my voice husky. “Stop,” I demand. “I want to be inside of you.”

  She stops—regretfully—and stands. Just as I reach out for her, she moves her hands underneath my shirt and pulls it over my head. I inhale sharply. Just her touching me, everywhere… it’s is so intense with her. I am drunk off of her. The sight of her as she reaches down and unbuckles my belt is enough to intoxicate me. When my pants fall to the ground, I kick them off along with my shoes. She undresses, and as she stands there vulnerably, I pull her gently into me once again.

  I didn’t get a chance to look at the hotel room before I ravaged her, but with one quick glance, I can tell it’s the same layout as the last time I stayed here. Living area, kitchen, loft-style bedroom.

  I don’t have the patience to walk up to the bedroom. I bend down and gently place my lips on her skin, right on the freckles on her shoulder.

  Andromeda.

  She groans.

  I lift her up and carry her to the kitchen counter. Our mouths don’t separate the entire way; our lips and bodies hungry for each other; her legs wrapped tightly around my hips.

  I set her down on the linoleum. She watches me with wide, dark grey eyes. Like a stormy sky. I take a step back and admire her naked body for the first time ever. I inhale a sharp breath. She’s perfect—curvy, soft, small, and delicate. I place my hands on her stomach. Mine. I take a step toward her, and she opens her legs for me.

  One of her adages pops into my head: Jesus Christ on a cracker.

  I brush my thumb around one of her nipples and she throws her head back, moaning. Every noise she makes undoes me. I watch every movement like a hawk.

  Tracing my hand lower, she stops me.

  “No,” she whispers. “I want all of you. Okay?”

  I remove my hand and kiss her
.

  Mine. Not Jake’s. Mine.

  I move my mouth to her nipple.

  She arches her back and whimpers. “I like that,” she says, her voice breathy. I continue, flicking my tongue gently. Her pale, supple skin writhes under my touch. After a minute, she reaches out and grabs me. Yes.

  I enter her, thrusting quickly as she cries out. I can’t stop staring at her. I kiss her fervently, my mouth hungry and crazed, my hands flying everywhere, pulling her closer. Pulling her as close as possible as I move in and out of her.

  I groan and thrust into her slowly. “I want to make one thing clear,” I mutter, closing my eyes and resting my forehead on hers. “I am never going to be able to fuck anyone else. You said I ruined everything. Well, you ruined me, Emilia.”

  When I open my eyes, she’s biting her lower lip. I reach down and massage my thumb against her clit, and she starts to quiver.

  “Say it,” I growl, upping my tempo and moving one of her legs over my shoulder.

  “I’m close,” she whispers, her head lolling to the side. I can feel my orgasm building.

  “Say. It,” I demand, working my hand feverishly.

  “I love you,” she whispers, just as the climax pours through her.

  Her words bring me to the edge. The pressure builds and then slides down slowly. I cry out but I don’t take my eyes off of her.

  “I love you, too,” I whisper, as our bodies shake and spasm.

  We don’t say anything as we both come down from the best kind of high. I pant as she places two hands on my shoulders.

  I love you.

  I love you.

  I love you.

  I can still hear the words that came from her lips, all breathy and tense. Like saying them brought upon her release.

  “Say it again,” I whisper, nipping her ear with my teeth.

  “I love you,” she repeats. “I can’t believe we have to say goodbye.”

  Right. That.

  She closes her eyes tightly. I don’t attempt to pull out.

  Not yet.

  “Eyes open,” I mutter.