It was midnight, and we were parked across a five-star hotel on 45th Street, waiting for the Managing Director of Brookers Realty to come by with his paramour.
A Managing Director that I was going to meet with later this week, and a paramour that Emma had cleverly planted.
Like I said, she was a genius at shit like this.
But unfortunately, not so much at vehicle modding.
Emma had ripped out the seats inside the van, replacing it with surveillance equipment that took up half the space inside. We sat on the floor of the van in near darkness, lit only by the light from her three monitor screens. There were also no extra ventilators.
In other words, it was fucking hot.
But it looked like I was the only one who was uncomfortable. Even though Emma was sweating through her tank top, she showed no sign of feeling it.
I narrowed my eyes and continued to study her profile.
That guy in her class, Dylan Cole. He had stared at Emma throughout the lesson like a lovesick puppy, but I was ninety percent sure he was not her mystery man.
I’d checked with my security guys under Emma too, and all of them had sworn on their mothers that Emma wasn’t interested in them.
But if it wasn’t Dylan Cole, and it wasn’t any of my guys, then who the hell could it be?
Who?
Who?
Great, now I was starting to sound like a fucking owl.
“Shit, it’s like a sauna in here.” I pinched my damp t-shirt and pulled it in and out to fan myself.
“Go home, then,” Emma murmured, peering out the darkened windows along the side of the van.
“In a while. I want to see what you get up to when you hide in your little van like this.”
“I’m doing your dirty work for you, what else.”
I looked over Emma’s shoulder at the screen where she was GPS-tracking the Director. “Mm. Usually I just fuck someone for answers. It’s faster that way.”
Emma scoffed. “Give yourself more credit, you last way longer.”
I ignored her sarcasm and ruffled her hair in approval. “Damn right, chica.”
Feeling bored again within the next minute, I took out my iPhone and started my playlist.
Emma raised her eyebrows at me. “Not that club song again. Aren’t you sick of it yet?”
“We’re not gonna play your One Direction, Emmaline. Not in my presence.”
“You’re in my van,” she reminded me.
“That I bought for you,” I reminded right back.
“One Direction or I’m heading home right now.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Fine, I’ll play nice. But only because you’ve been a good servant.”
I switched to Story of My Life on my phone and put it on repeat. It was Emma’s favorite song, but I couldn’t help thinking that it was sullying my device in some way.
Then Emma began to hum along, and it made up for it.
“You have a pretty voice,” I said, watching how the pale light from the screens reflected off her pixie-like features. “Why don’t you sing more often?”
“You mean like how you sing in the shower?” Emma snickered. “No thanks.”
“Bitch.”
“Bastard.”
I grinned and looked around the cramped van again. “Shit, it’s really hot.”
I pulled my t-shirt over my head and tossed it aside.
Emma froze, her wide eyes sweeping up and down my bare chest. “What are you doing?”
“What, don’t tell me you’re nervous?” I shrugged. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”
“Yeah,” she said in a choked voice, “but not in such a small space.”
“Well, you’re in luck today, chica. This body is all for your viewing pleasure.”
Emma made a strangled sound in her throat. She got up to open the sunroof at the top of the van, letting in moonlight and cold night air.
“There, you big sissy,” she muttered.
I waited until she got back to her computer, then I shifted over to her and lay down on my back, pillowing my head on her thighs where she sat cross-legged.
Emma looked down at me and raised a brow. “Do you want me to do this job or not?”
“I do.”
“Then stop distracting me.”
“Okay.” I clasped my hands over my abs and settled my head deeper into her lap. “I’ll be quiet now.”
Emma gave me a warning squint before she went back to tracking the Director’s route.
At times like this, Emma reminded me of a hunter lying in wait for her prey. I didn't know how she could sit so still for so long. We’ve already been in here half an hour, and I was getting restless.
But at least the view was good from where I was lying. I was staring straight up at the undercurves of Emma’s breasts.
They were tightly wrapped in a sports bra as usual, and I was tempted to peel it off her for a glimpse of her nipples again. I spent the whole of last night thinking about them and how they would taste.
I shifted again, feeling uncomfortable for a whole different reason now.
“Stop moving,” Emma protested. One of her hands came to rest on my forehead and hold me still.
I nudged at her hand with my head, and she started playing with my hair, running her fingers through them and rubbing my scalp.
It felt fucking good, and I closed my eyes as she petted me. “Can I pay you to do this every night?”
“I’ll do for free if you massage my neck in exchange.”
I smiled. “Deal.”
I kept my eyes closed, taking in the softness of her stomach against my face and the clean scent of her soap on her clothes. The feel of her fingers playing with my hair made me sleepy and relaxed. Even the irritating song was tolerable now.
“Don’t ever work for anyone else,” I murmured. “I found you first.”
“Depends on the progression, pretty boy. Where will I be in five, ten, and fifteen years?”
“Is this an interview?”
Emma tapped away at her keyboard with one hand, still stroking my hair with the other. “Yep, so think carefully about your answer.”
I grinned, keeping my eyes closed. “I’ve already planned it out, querida. In five years, we would have conquered Manhattan together. Ten years, we would go back to Rio and throw our resignations in my grandfather’s face. I’ll claim my share of the inheritance, and in fifteen years, we’ll be travelling the world together, living like a king and queen.” I cracked my eyes open to find Emma smiling down at me with her blue eyes. “Sounds good?”
“Hmm.” She furrowed her brows and considered. “On one condition. I get to be the king. You can be the queen since you’re such a diva.”
I turned and nipped her stomach.
Emma laughed and pushed at my head. “Stop it, I’m trying to work—” Then she stiffened, narrowing her eyes and squinting across the street. “They’re here.”
I sobered instantly, sitting up beside her to look at the man who had just gotten out of a taxi with a woman in a short red dress.
One thing I disliked about Manhattan? Everything here was in a tall building. You couldn’t simply wait outside with cameras and hope to catch your target in action on the second floor. The rooms were now on the thirty-second floor, with no line of sight into the windows.
That’s where the girls came in handy. I gave them prey, and they gave me info. Win-win.
The moment the pair got out of the taxi, Ava spilled her purse on the sidewalk and started to slowly pick her things up one by one, giving Emma plenty of time to take photos of the Director and her together.
Emma’s telescopic DSLR clicked busily as she snapped a series of photographs, and she even got a video of the poor bastard entering the hotel with his hand squeezing Ava’s ass.
“Gotcha.” She smiled evilly and pushed a button on a small mic on her table. “We have what we need, Ava. You can bail now, or fuck, have at him and milk him dry.”
A sm
all cough returned, Ava letting us know she got the message.
My lips curved as I watched Emma. With her sky-blue eyes and elfish features, I sometimes forgot how bloodthirsty she could get.
After the pair disappeared into the hotel, Emma hooked the camera up to her laptop and began transferring the photos and video over. I took her night-vision binoculars and tried to look into the building windows, curious to see what New Yorkers got up to in their rooms.
“Now we have evidence he’s cheating on his wife,” I murmured, “he’ll be dancing for me before the week is over.”
Emma made a sound of agreement as she typed away on her laptop. “Drop the bombshell when he pushes back on the contract terms. That’ll make him squirm.”
“Mm. Or when he tries to bargain for a larger share—”
“—then you’ll throw a little hint of what you know—”
“—but not too much.” I narrowed my eyes behind the binoculars. “I need to make the deal sweet, but with just enough bite.”
“Amen.”
We fist-bumped each other without looking.
After another moment of watching, I put aside the binoculars and turned to Emma.
“Playtime’s over,” I said in a businesslike tone. “About this guy you love—”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Emma muttered.
I ignored her. “You’ve loved him for years, yes?”
She huffed. “What’s it to you?”
“Since you said it isn’t that guy in your class earlier, that Derrick—”
“Dylan.”
I frowned, not liking how she knew who I was talking about immediately. “You need to be careful of him, Emmaline. That guy has other reasons for joining your class.”
Emma shook her head and resumed her tapping at her keyboard. “He’s not there to ogle the girls, if that’s what you’re saying.”
“Because he’s looking at you.”
“Yeah, he’s like, my most attentive student.” She cocked her head thoughtfully. “I wish the other students were like him.”
I stared at Emma. “You’re shitting me, right?”
She blinked at me. “What?”
“Woman.” I made a sound of impatience. “You’re so—what’s the word you Americans use? Clueless.”
“Don’t you Americans me, pretty boy. You’ve been living here for the last six years.”
“And in Brasil for twenty, so point mooted.” I folded my arms. “Emmaline, I’m saying that this guy likes you.”
“Like, like? Or friends, like?”
“Like, like.”
She chuckled and shook her head like I just told a joke. “You’re such an idiot.”
I watched in disbelief as she took the binoculars and peered across the street.
Emma was pretty, but for some reason she couldn’t see that, just like she didn’t know how incredible she was at the shit she did.
And that was the moment I understood that Emma needed someone who could show her how amazing she was. How smart and capable and beautiful.
The man she loved wasn’t that someone.
“Em.”
“Hmm?”
“Em, put that thing down and look at me.”
Emma lowered the binoculars and turned to me with an expectant expression.
The moonlight pouring in from the sunroof made her hair paler, in contrast to her dark eyebrows and lashes. She looked even more like a fairytale creature here in this small dark space, with her shoulder brushing against my bare chest and that One Direction song playing in the background.
I didn’t need to know who this guy was. I already knew that he didn’t deserve her.
I drew in a breath. “Forget him.”
Emma blinked. “Who?”
“That guy you’re in love with. You can do better than him.”
A slight notch formed between her brows. “You don’t even know him.”
“You said he doesn’t notice you. That’s all I need to know—that he’s an idiot.” Emma still looked confused at that, so I took her shoulders firmly. “I’ll introduce some guys to you. Men with money, influence, social standing. You can have your pick of the best and find one who deserves you. Just not this guy.”
Bullshit, of course. No one deserved Emma, but at this point I was willing to promise anything as long as she forgot the prick.
“Don’t be stupid.” She shrugged my hands off her shoulders, not meeting my gaze. “If I could forget him, I would have.”
“What ways did you try?” I challenged. “You haven’t dated.”
Emma stared at me. “Are you seriously suggesting that I forget a guy by falling in love with another?”
“Not just any guy—” I broke off when I realized what I had been about to say.
What the fuck was happening with me? This was Emma. I shouldn’t be wanting her, and worse, wanting her to want me back.
But like an addict, my gaze dropped to her lips, staring at the two soft, plump pillows that I was dying to taste.
“What is it?” Emma wiped at her face self-consciously.
The action brushed her arm against my chest. Her skin was cool and smooth, and it made me remember how I’d teased her last night. How I’d pressed my hot mouth over her ear, arousing the both of us with my words.
“I want to know how you taste,” I said in a low voice.
Emma blinked at me, and I was sure she was going to tell me to go fuck myself.
But then her lips formed a slow smile.
“I taste like heaven, pretty boy.” She leaned in closer to me, the clean smell of her skin filling my lungs. “But you’re getting none of this,” she whispered.
Without warning, I tackled Emma, pinning my body over hers on the floor of the van. I grabbed her wrists and restrained them above her head like in her class earlier.
Emma’s eyes went wide. Her shallow breaths fanned over my lips and chin as she gazed up at me.
But she didn’t throw me off.
“What are you waiting for, querida?” I said softly. “Do your armbar.”
But I knew she wouldn’t.
Because Emma wanted to taste me too.
I shifted higher over her body, pressing her down with my full weight the way I knew she liked. Her breathing became faster against my chest, and her gaze burned into mine, hot and full of desire.
I knew I shouldn’t give in. Like I always told myself, Emma was one in a million, irreplaceable if I fucked things up with her.
But for the first time, I wanted to taste Emma more than I cared about the consequences. We could sort that shit out later. First I needed my tongue in her mouth, and her to suck on it.
And more importantly, I needed her to realize that the clueless asshole she loved wasn’t the one she should give herself to.
There was also the option of me.
I released one of Emma’s hands to take her jaw and tip her chin up. Her eyes were wide, and I could feel her heart beating fast against my chest.
My own pulse was rapid as if it was my first time, and the moment my lips touched her soft ones, something seemed to crack in my chest.
The feeling was new to me, but all I knew was that I needed more of it.
My hand cupped Emma’s face and I pressed my lips firmer against hers. She was shy, but I took my time coaxing her, urging her to kiss me back.
And when her mouth parted and her tongue met mine hesitantly, I realized that Emma was wrong.
She didn't taste like heaven.
She tasted like home.
A groan came from the back of my throat as I took her more deeply. The space we were in was claustrophobic, with the leg of the short table digging into my arm and my shoes reaching the back door of the van, but in that moment I was right where I was supposed to be.
This wasn’t like the sexual kisses I had with other women. Emma’s mouth was sweet, and her kisses were innocent and tender. That aroused me like nothing ever had.
Until she tightened her strong legs a
round my waist, holding me down and pressing my hardened cock right against her pussy.
Then I was fucking lost.
I thrust my hips hard, letting my erection grind right where I knew she needed me. Emma moaned into my mouth and clenched her thighs tighter, pulling me deeper into her. I grabbed her jaw so hard it had to hurt, making love to her mouth in deep sweeping strokes.
Our clothes were in the way, and I wanted to tear them off her and bare her body completely to me for the first time.
What would it be like to sink into her heat? To feel her pussy squeezing my cock? After years of not knowing, I couldn’t wait another minute.
I braced my forearms and eased away, drawing a breath to tell Emma that if she was going to choose an asshole to love, it might as well be me—
And that’s when I heard it—Emma whispering my name.
But it wasn’t what she said that made me go still. It was how she said it, like it was her favorite word in the world. Like my name was a prayer that had passed her lips a thousand times before.
I looked down at her, and my heart kicked at what I saw.
For the first time since I met her, Emma’s guards were completely stripped away. Her lips were swollen and parted, and her cheeks were flushed. Her blue eyes gazed up at me like I put the moon in the sky.
I knew that look.
“That guy you love.” I stared at her. “It's me.”
Marlon’s words came like a dash of cold water.
He cocked his head, staring down at me in open fascination. “You love me.”
His reaction absolutely gutted me.
“I don’t. This is a mistake.” I pushed at his heavy shoulders, desperate to put distance between us.
Marlon narrowed his eyes at my answer.
He sat back and braced his elbows on his raised knees, watching me closely like he was trying to figure me out.
“You’re lying,” he said simply.
“I’m not.” I sat up too, hugging my knees to my chest. The blood had leeched from my face, and my hands were trembling slightly. I tightened them around my legs to hide it.
What had I expected?
That Marlon would kiss me and realise that he had always loved me as well?
Because he didn’t. I recognized the look on his face. It was the same one he had when he was gearing up for a challenge.
Untamed (New York Heirs #1.5) Page 5