by Danielle Fox
“Why are you blushing, Miss Braxton?”
“I love you, Mr Scott,” she whispered in reply.
“And I love you,” I breathed, before kissing her mouth hungrily, tasting every bit of her as my tongue explored hers.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t kiss her like this, not now. She was hurt - emotionally and physically, and I wouldn’t take advantage. I ended our kiss abruptly and pulled my head back to get a clear view of her beautiful face. And beautiful it was. Her sparkling blue eyes were large in her petite, heart-shaped face - which was framed perfectly by long waves of chestnut coloured hair. Her mouth was most definitely the sexiest mouth I had ever seen. Her lips were a pale rose pink and were full and plump. Her top lip was marginally bigger than the bottom, giving the appearance of a permanent sexy pout. She was totally alluring. Yet, the fact that she couldn’t see it herself only made it more so. Emily wasn’t like any other woman I had known. Other women were like vultures. They see a man in an expensive suit, getting out of an expensive car, and they are all over you like a rash. Always desperately trying to get your attention and shamelessly throwing themselves at you. But, Emily was different. Not once had she made any effort to be anybody but herself. She didn’t plaster her face in makeup and provocatively suck a lollipop in my face whilst squeezing her tits together and up, as high as they’d go. She was just...Emily. It was refreshing.
“I’ll get you some painkillers,” I said, as soon as I remembered the small box that was still sitting on the counter.
Her brow lowered as she frowned at me in response.
“For your head,” I told her as I lifted her off my lap and placed her on the sofa.
“My heads fine.”
She was a terrible liar. I could tell it was hurting her by the way a small furrow appeared between her brows each time her head moved. The way she was trying her damned hardest not to let it move.
“Here, stop trying to be so brave all the time. Take these,” I ordered, rolling the two capsules into her hand and placing a glass of water in the other.
I watched her as she stood and placed one of the two capsules carefully at the back of her tongue. Then, she took a long draw of her water and appeared to freeze. She just stood there, staring vacantly at the wall ahead of her. Her upper body lunged forward and her hand flew up and covered her mouth.
“What’s wrong? Do you feel sick?”
Oh God! Maybe she’s concussed after all, I thought. Maybe her injury is worse than we had thought. I rushed to stand in front of her and studied her face, searching her eyes for the answer that she couldn’t speak as she still had a mouthful - of water, I hoped. She simply waved her hand at me - or more precisely, flapped her hand at me - and turned away so that I was now watching her back. I watched her body heave again and began to panic.
“Emily, do you need the bathroom? A doctor?” I pressed.
She let out a groaning sigh and turned back to face me. “I can’t do another one,” she said, her face twisted with disgust.
“Another what? What’s wrong?”
“I can’t swallow those things, they float! Who invented floating tablets?”
Her tone, and matching expression, was so serious that I couldn’t suppress my laughter. There was me readying myself to rush her to the nearest hospital, and she was simply struggling to swallow a capsule.
“What’s funny?” she asked, obviously completely unaware of how amusing the situation was.
“You! You can’t swallow a tablet?”
“I can swallow a normal tablet, just not one that floats! They hit the back of my mouth and make me gag.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.”
“Bear what in mind?”
“Your sensitive gag reflex when an unfamiliar object touches the back of your mouth.” I sniggered, raising a single brow in a suggestive manner.
Bad joke, I scolded myself, as I winced under her angered glare. Or was it a heated glare - an inviting one?
Definitely heated, I concluded, as she pushed her warm body flush against mine and pulled my head into her urgent kiss, her fingers twisting into my hair as she pulled me back towards the sofa.
Chapter Two
With her slender hands pushing firmly against my chest, effectively lowering me to a laying position across the length of the sofa, Emily sat astride my hips and bent forward to press her mouth to my neck. The warm sensation of her lips nipping and sucking at my heated skin sent a shudder down my spine, and I found myself aching for her. Literally aching for her as I twitched heavily between my thighs. A slow smile spread across my lips as she tugged at my t-shirt, desperately trying to tease it from beneath my heavy weight and remove it altogether, all the while seemingly trying to hide the obvious effort it was taking by keeping a totally straight face. I lifted slightly to assist her struggle as I felt my smile widen.
“Something amusing you, Mr Scott?”
“Nothing at all,” I panted, as she finally freed me from my shirt. “Do carry on.”
She raised her top - or my top, I should say, as she was wearing my oversized hoodie - and pulled it swiftly and very sexily over her head, her hair flailing around her delicate shoulders as it fell through the material, leaving her upper body naked except for the thin, black laced bra that only just covered her nipples.
A soft groan rumbled deep in my chest as I admired her beauty. She was incredible. Her stomach was toned and taut but with that sexy little slightly rounded pouch surrounding her belly button area that I had always loved so much. I struggled to tear my eyes away from her breasts. They were perfect. Exactly the type of breasts I had always admired, although, I must admit, I had never admired any others more than I did Emily’s. Their size fit perfectly into each of my hands, and I loved this. I had always hated large breasts, there was definitely something very unattractive about the way they hung over you. I couldn’t resist pulling her towards me to allow my teeth to gently tease her erect nipple through the thin lace of her bra. She sucked in a hissing breath and rolled her hips against me.
I clutched her backside with both hands and thrust my hips tightly against her groin as another involuntary growl escaped me. She rolled her hips again, grinding herself against my erection. Leaning forward, she pressed her wet lips to my chest, her back arching - encouraging her very fine backside to sit high in the air, making my breath hitch in my throat. God, I had never wanted anyone as much as I wanted Emily. I never knew such an intense level of desire was even possible. My entire body was on fire, ready and waiting for her next touch, her next kiss.
Her mouth trailed kisses and gentle nips across my chest and continued down the centre of my belly before pausing at the waistband of my joggers. Her fingers hooked around the material beside either hip, and then she tugged gently and slowly, following their movement with her mouth. Her chin skimmed ever-so-lightly over my arousal as her mouth nipped at my inner thigh. I inhaled deeply as her soft contact made me physically ache, my body begging for more.
She knew exactly what she was doing, the chin was no accident. She was teasing me, building my anticipation until I couldn’t take any more.
“Emily, you’re killing me here,” I panted, the desperate and raspy sound of my own voice surprising me.
I heard her soft laugh as she finally freed my ankles of my trousers. She tossed them onto the floor, leaving me stark naked. She raised her head and her eyes raked over my entirety before she crawled forwards, with an incredibly sexy grin etched on her face. Then, she stopped her approach and her soft lips teased at the tip of my length, before taking me fully into her mouth.
My groan was almost animalistic as her tongue swirled around my end. Her full lips surrounded me once more and she began to move in a steady rhythm. She drew back her lips, revealing her teeth which grazed gently across my sensitised skin, and my entire body tensed in response to her torture. If her warm tongue touched my head one more time, I was going to lose it. She swirled her tongue again, before I had even managed to finish
that thought, and I felt my hips jerk in response. I couldn’t hold it any longer, as much as I really didn’t want this to end. It was just too much, too damn sexy.
“Emily, stop. I’m going to come,” I choked through my strained jaw as I desperately tried to hold on to my composure.
“That’s the whole point,” she murmured, her mouth releasing me briefly.
But not briefly enough, and as her tongue made contact again, I couldn’t hold back against the shudders that rippled through me. I involuntarily thrust myself upwards and further into her mouth, unable to control my hips’ jerking movement. Crying out loudly and clutching fistfuls of her hair, I spilled into her mouth - her mouth that never attempted to release me until my shuddering body had calmed. I slumped heavily into the sofa beneath her, my body still quaking with each tiny movement.
Then, I realised what I’d done. Fuck! I hadn’t meant to come in her mouth. That had never been my intention, as sexy as it was, but I had completely lost all control of myself. With her and her gag reflex, that was bound to make her ill, surely.
I peeked up at her through squinted eyes, preparing myself for her disgusted expression, but she was directly above me now, grinning ridiculously at me as she removed my dampened hair off my forehead with her fingertips.
“You never cease to amaze me, Emily,” I muttered through my heavy breaths. And her returning smile was one to behold forever. Her face glowed with sheer joy and triumph.
God, I love this woman, I thought, as I pulled her head to mine and kissed her hungrily. I owed her an orgasm now, I suppose. Well, that was my excuse anyway as I swiftly flipped her over, reversing our positions, and quickly relieved her of her clothing as I felt my manhood begin to twitch once more.
This woman, I was certain, would be my undoing.
“Breakfast is served, Mr Scott.” I heard her almost teasing voice echo from the kitchen as I shrugged my black t-shirt over my head.
I swung a towel lazily around my neck to catch any last remaining droplets from my freshly washed hair and headed out of the bedroom. The smell of cooked bacon never failed to make me feel instantly ravenous. I hadn’t even realised I was hungry until the delicious scent filled my senses and my stomach growled in response. Emily smiled adoringly at me as I took my seat at the breakfast bar, and I read the familiar wanting in her eyes, the very eyes that did such a despicable job at hiding any single emotion or thought from me. I felt my own eyes narrow, in response to her heated stare, and she blushed as I flashed her a lopsided grin. I had no clue as to why she blushed so frequently, I only wished I knew what she was thinking when she did.
“You’re blushing again, Miss Braxton,” I informed her, matter-of-factly, as I wiped at a stray droplet of water that tickled my skin as it rolled down my temple.
“You look good with wet hair.” A perfectly defined brow rose in an almost suggestive manner - almost.
Did I? I hadn’t pictured messy, still dripping wet hair as being a particularly attractive style. Mind you, as I watched her as she carefully spread a thin layer of butter onto a slice of toast, her own dampened hair hanging loosely over her chest, I must admit, it was a very appealing sight. Yes, there was something strangely sexy about wet hair, I suppose. I felt the familiar twitch between my thighs and tried to force my thoughts in a different direction. I was like an animal around Emily, constantly finding myself aroused by such ridiculous circumstances that really shouldn’t be arousing in the slightest. Like watching her throat tighten as she gulped down a mouthful of tea, or watching her jaw move in an almost sensuous rhythm as she chewed on a small bite of toast. Seriously, how could any of this be even slightly erotic? Bacon, I thought to myself, I’m starving!
“I’ll need to go down to The Lounge at some point later to see what damage has been done; I’ll drop you home first.” I tore my focus away from her perfectly pouted lips and tried desperately to follow a normal line of conversation.
“I can come with you, if you like?” she replied, with the small hitch in her voice that always revealed her nerves. Why was she nervous? Was I really that much of an arsehole that she felt she couldn’t simply invite herself along with me?
“I’d rather you didn’t come, to be honest.”
Yep! I really was an arsehole, no wonder she felt that way. Why did I insist on pushing people away? I wouldn’t see her suffer anymore because of her past. I didn’t want her to go back into the club so soon, to see the blackened evidence of what had very nearly happened to her there last night, the evidence of what I had done there last night.
But she wouldn’t know that, would she.
Her eyes flickered down to the mug in her hand as she accepted my rejection and a pang of guilt shot through my stomach.
“I don’t want you being reminded of him, Emily, that’s all,” I explained as I read the hurt behind her eyes.
“It’s fine, I should go home to Maia anyway,” she assured me before inhaling deeply and holding the breath in its place. “So, are you going to tell me what really happened last night?”
“No, probably not,” I said casually, allowing my gaze to drift down to my breakfast.
I sighed heavily, realising that once again I was being sharper than necessary but somehow finding it difficult to communicate in any other way. No, I couldn’t tell her what had really happened. As much as I wanted to be honest with her, she would be disgusted if she knew, and I simply couldn’t risk losing her. My actions were not ones of a stable human being. I was a menace. How could I tell her that I had beaten the father of her child so badly that he was barely recognisable, and how I hadn’t stopped until he was unconscious and in a twisted heap on the floor? And, not content with that, I had then set fire to the room, knowing full well that there was no way he would get out, he couldn’t. I had frightened her once before with a brief glimpse of this very side of my nature, and I wasn’t going to do it again. I would make sure that this woman never had to feel afraid again.
When she had pleaded with me to leave with her, after I had dragged Jay off her, the fear behind her eyes was agonising to witness. She had looked petrified, so vulnerable and in need of protection, there was no way I could have left with her and allowed Jay to live, no matter how much she begged me. He had done that to her. He had mentally destroyed her once before and I’d have been damned if I had have given him the chance to do it again. As much as it had crushed me to order Ryan to force her from the room whilst she begged and screamed for me, it didn’t even compare to that feeling when I had looked into her terrified eyes. I would make sure I never had to look into those again.
“Okay.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper as she stood and placed her plate in the sink before turning and disappearing into the bedroom.
I was doing it again, and I knew it. I was hurting the one and only woman I had ever cared for by distancing myself from her, over and over again. I didn’t know any other way. I had never allowed myself to so much as even care for a woman, let alone to love one. This was a concept I was struggling with. I just had this overwhelming need to protect her, yet I couldn’t seem to bring myself to just explain this to her. So, instead, I let her believe I was a cold hearted bastard.
When Emily emerged from the bedroom, she was wheeling a small case with one hand whilst the other held onto a tatty old rucksack.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my astonishment evident in my raised tone.
“Going home, like you said.” Her voice was weak, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she had been crying. Her eyes looked reddened and slightly swollen.
Never mind distancing myself from Emily, now I was apparently rejecting her entirely without even realising I was doing it. Would it always be this way? Would I continue to make her cry, over and over, for as long as I allowed her to love me?
“I never said I wanted you to go home,” I said, my voice raising at the end of my sentence, making it sound more like a question than a statement. I managed to keep my voice steady though, I didn
’t want to reveal just how disappointed I was by the thought of her not being in my apartment when I got home.
“You said you would take me home before you went to the club.”
“Yes, to get Maia and do anything you might need to do. I was intending to pick you up again before I came home.”
“Julian, I need to go home. I need some normality for Maia’s sake.”
Her simple words gutted me more than she could ever have realised.
“So this isn’t normality?” I gestured a single hand towards the expansive space around us that made up my apartment. What I had hoped could be our apartment.
“Maybe one day it will be, but right now I need to be home.”
I assumed that she thought of this place as home. At least, that was the impression that I got. Was she leaving me? Was that what this was about? Surely not, she had just agreed to become my wife. I suppose I couldn’t blame her if she was running. She could only imagine what I had done last night, and my actions made me no better a man than Jay. I had harmed another human being, and she had witnessed it. Then, I had played out my vicious plot and had successfully killed him, all whilst she was just downstairs. In the same building. That was never part of my plan. She was never supposed to be there. But I saw him on top of her and I flipped, nothing could have stopped me from doing what I had set out to do all along. Not even her desperate pleas as she was dragged from the room. But, it was only just hitting me now that, as determined as I was to make sure Jay could never hurt her again, Emily had needed me. She had screamed for me, and I had not only allowed Ryan to carry her from the room, I had ordered him to. She had needed me and I had let her down for my own selfish reasons of wanting Jay to pay for what he had done to her. I hadn’t given a second thought to what Emily needed.
I was disgusting. I was no better than he was. Had Emily finally figured it out?