Falling for Fallon (Oak Hill Series Book 2)

by S. J. Sylvis

  I wrapped my arm around Fallon’s slim waist, nuzzling up to her, playing along with this hilarious scheme. I wonder if she can feel all the sexual tension there is between us?

  That was probably what made her tense in the first place.

  “Play along,” I whispered into her ear. “Have some fun.”

  Fallon tilted her head up to me, her eyes wide and heated, a small smile playing peekaboo on her mouth. “He makes me sweat, too.”

  That had my laughter stopping.

  I could definitely make her sweat.

  “Whew!” the woman cackled. “You two are… wow. Okay, let me know if you need anything, and…” she looked around sneakily and whispered, “just try to keep it down.” Then she winked at us.

  I could feel the warmth pouring off Fallon’s body. I was melting right there beside her.

  As soon as the clerk was out of earshot, Fallon whipped her body around and playfully slapped me on the chest. “What the heck, Emmett!”

  I laughed, moving out of the way from her smacks. “What? I thought this was all about you having some fun. No?”

  She looked exasperated. “Now she thinks we’re gonna bang it out in the dressing room!”

  I flicked my eyes up to hers. “Want to?”

  Fallon opened her mouth and then abruptly closed it again. She did that a few more times before she stormed away. I laughed and she whipped back around, standing beside a clothes rack full of dresses. “We’re just friends!”

  Yeah fucking right.

  I shrugged. “It’s on your list! I figure since we already ate some tacos, you can cross that off and then… I mean, hey.” I winked. “I’m down if you are.”

  Fallon rolled her aqua eyes. “No! We are not crossing that off my list today! I might not even do that part of the list.”

  I stared at her with desire. “But you want to.”

  Her eyes didn’t move even a centimeter away from mine. She sucked her cheeks in, a flush creeping up her neck onto her cheeks. Then, she turned around and started looking through the rack of dresses.

  I smirked. I mean, she didn’t disagree with me.

  After Fallon tried on a handful of dresses and I sat in the lone chair near the dressing room, I became painfully bored.

  Fallon wouldn’t come out and show me the dresses. She stayed in her tiny-ass dressing room by herself. I assumed it was because she was avoiding me and my “friendly” ways. The clerk hadn’t been back to check on us once, and the store was basically empty. We totally could have banged it out in the dressing room.

  “Psst!”

  I inched my head upward in the direction of the black door.

  Fallon hissed again. “Psst! Emmett!”

  I chuckled. “What?”

  “I need… I need your help.”

  I looked around the store, seeing no one in sight. I stood up, smoothing out my jeans, and walked over to her dressing room door. “What’s wrong? Finally want to take me up on that offer from earlier?”

  I heard her sigh. “No, the dress… is stuck on my belly button ring!”

  “Oh, shit. I meant to ask you how it’s doing? Still like it?”

  “Emmett!” she shrieked. “This is not the time to ask if I still like it! It’s fucking stuck on my dress and it hurts. It’s tugging it.”

  “Open up.”

  I stood back, waiting for the door to swing open. After a few long, dreadful seconds, Fallon slowly pushed it open. I stepped inside and was mind-blown at how large the dressing room was. Jesus. It was perfect for having sex!

  “Emmett!” Fallon cried. I hurriedly took my attention off the expansive room and took in the sight in front of me.

  Holy…

  “Wow, this is a winner. I know I haven’t seen the other dresses, but you look…” I couldn’t even form words. All I could focus on was my dick growing inside my jeans. “Derek was a fuckin’ idiot saying no to red. Jesus Christ. Is he gay? Because you look damn edible, Fallon.”

  Fallon’s mouth fell open at the same time her eyes widened. I could have sworn I saw a faint smile appearing on her lips, but she swallowed harshly. “Emmett, my belly button ring. It hurts.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry. Okay, what do you need me to do?”

  “Well, every time I move my arms up to unzip my dress, it pulls on it. Which is why I’m standing like a robot.”

  I laughed, noting the way Fallon’s bare arms were bent out in front of her. “Okay, well, turn around, and I’ll unzip it and then detach whatever part it’s snagged on.” I started to walk closer to her, but she stepped back quickly, pain evident on her face.

  “No!”

  I stood back, confused. “What?”

  “You can’t unzip it!”

  “Why?”

  “Because…” Fallon’s eyes darted away. “I’m not wearing a bra, and you’ll straight up see the goods.”

  I paused, and my eyes went directly to her chest. I really took in her dress, her curves. Everything.

  The dress was cut really low in the front, like a V leading down toward her toned stomach. Her breasts looked round and perky, the skin on the sides showing off their creamy, smooth color.

  I swallowed, trying to think of anything else but her.

  “Okay… um,” I said aloud, trying to think of a way out of this fiasco. “I’ll just go under then.”

  Fallon’s face scrunched. “What?”

  “Are you wearing underwear?”

  She bit her lip, and my eyes almost fell out of my head. Holy shit. If she says no, I’m likely to die.

  “Yeah... but it’s a thong.”

  Dead.

  I am dead.

  “Emmett,” Fallon hissed.

  I coughed, clearing my throat and head. “Sorry, okay, then it’s fine. I’ll just go up and under and unhook the ring, okay?”

  Fallon looked mortified at the thought, but I definitely wasn’t. God, if anything, I was eager. It was only going to intensify this need inside of me, but I couldn’t care less. If I were told I’d be kicked in the balls repeatedly for twenty-four hours, if I went under her dress, I’d still do it. No doubt.

  Her voice was shaky. “Okay…”

  I started to inch over to her, and she blew air out of her mouth. I got down on my knees, the soft carpet adding a nice touch to the massive dressing room. Yeah, sex in here would have been damn near perfect.

  “Can you hold up the fabric? Otherwise, I’m gonna need a damn flashlight.”

  Fallon tried to move her hands down a little but yelped.

  I quickly peeked up. “It’s fine. Just stay still, okay?”

  She nodded her head, her mouth set in a frown.

  I let out an uneven breath, trying to think of something that would induce nausea so I could stop focusing on the fact that I was underneath Fallon’s dress.

  Her legs were so close to my face I could feel their warmth. My hand gripped her leg to steady myself, and I heard her take a sharp inhale of air. I mumbled, “Sorry, I’m kind of blind.”

  Fallon’s voice was wobbly, out of breath. “It’s fine.”

  My hand inched up a little farther. Her legs were as smooth as fucking butter. She could star in an I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter commercial, and every man on Earth would be lined up in front of a grocery store.

  I paused, feeling my heart trying to escape out of my chest. A throaty laugh started to bubble up and out of my mouth.

  “What?” Fallon asked, her voice still breathy and sexy sounding.

  “This is killing me.”

  “Why?”

  My hand paused on her bare leg. My head dropped down. “I’m underneath your dress, Fallon… a few inches away from your pussy. Why do you think?”

  Was that a little blunt? Yes. Did I care? No. I was fine with her knowing I wanted her in the worst of ways. How could I not?

  “Well, if it makes you feel any better… it’s killing me, too.”

  I smirked. “Why is it killing you?” I started to creep my hand up a
little higher. I moved slowly, knowing my fingers would soon brush over her hipbone and then over to her stomach. Then I would unhook the ring from the dress, and it would all be over before it even began.

  I heard Fallon’s short breaths. She wiggled on her feet a little, and I knew right then that I was driving her just as crazy as she was driving me.

  “Why is it killing you?” I asked again, my face closer to her skin. I knew the warmth of my breath on her leg would set her body on fire.

  I was toying with her, but only because I couldn’t help it.

  It was fun… for the both of us.

  “Because you’re… right there, and it’s…”

  My hand swiped over her hip and then up to her belly button ring. I slowly brought my clouded vision up to her flat stomach and started to fiddle with the piercing caught on the silky material. My face was right in front of the fabric of her thong, and if I looked closely enough, even through the tent of darkness, I could see that it was blue. Just like her eyes.

  “It’s what?”

  I was waiting. I was waiting for her to answer me before I unhooked her ring. I was only a centimeter away before she said, “It’s turning me on! Are you happy?!”

  I unhooked the fabric, and her body instantly relaxed.

  I gripped her ass with my hands, feeling her bareness underneath my palm and whispered, “Yes.”

  Then a loud voice boomed from the front of the dressing room.

  “How are you doing back here? Need anything from the back? A different size?”

  Fallon yelped, clearly startled by the clerk, and accidently hit me in the face with her knee.

  “Fuck!” I said, holding my jaw as I flew backwards from the hit. I slammed into the dressing room door—unfortunately no longer underneath Fallon’s dress—which caused a loud bang to go throughout the room.

  Fallon gasped for air, and then we heard the clerk say, “Oh, goodness. I thought I’d given you two enough time back here! Sorry!” Then we heard her shuffle away.

  My mouth fell open, and a rumble of laughter flew out of it. Fallon was looking down at me, her face blazing. “Oh, my God!” Then, she reached up and smacked herself in the forehead, closing her eyes tightly together.

  I shook my head, still half lying on the floor. “I’m not sure there will ever be enough time for what I want to do to you.”

  Fallon’s eyes abruptly opened. She took me in with a rapt look in her eyes and shook her head. She bit her lip and exhaled. “You’re trouble, Emmett Lanning.”

  I winked. “So are you.”

  Chapter Nine

  Fallon

  I inhaled the crisp, spring air into my lungs, hoping to ease the agitating dread that was filling up my entire body. I pulled my shoulders back and looked down at my gown. Emmett was right: red was my color. The dress was stunning. It was cut low in the front, showing off just the right amount of skin on my chest. Then, it was tighter around my torso and fell gracefully to the floor. My hair was pinned back in a low, messy knot, and I wore the diamond earrings that my father gave me for my 21st birthday, along with a delicate gold bracelet.

  I looked nice. I looked like I was going to some type of red-carpet event, although it was just a fundraising gala that the company liked to make face at. I still felt fancy. I just wished I could have focused on anything other than Emmett.

  He overtook my brain. He overtook my senses. He was like the air that I needed to breathe. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, especially after the whole him-under-my-dress thing.

  As soon as we parted ways last week, after feeling his breath on my groin, inflicting tingles that covered my entire body, I felt out of sorts. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him, yet I knew that I needed to.

  Since then, I’d been constructing ways in which I could see him again. The best was the spiel I had planned in which I walked into his tattoo shop asking for a daith piercing to help with my migraines.

  My nonexistent migraines.

  Obviously, I came to my senses, shut down all of my well-thought-out ideas, and tried to get a handle on myself.

  It felt like Emmett was some type of drug, and I couldn’t get enough. I couldn’t get enough of his smile, his charm, his laughter. I couldn’t get enough of him.

  He was so carefree with his “I don’t give a fuck” attitude, and he made me laugh so hard that my stomach hurt. I had fun. And it was the type of fun that I didn’t want to give up. Ever.

  Just a few days ago, after it seemed my Emmett love spell had been lifted slightly, I’d been lying in bed when my phone buzzed on my side table. My eyes sprang open, noticing the illuminating light from the screen. I slowly reached my hand over and pulled it in front of me. It was a number I didn’t recognize, but I answered it anyway.

  My heart did a series of tumbles in my chest.

  It was him.

  His voice on the other line was that full-on sleepy, gravelly voice that completely had me rethinking all of my plans from earlier in the week. We talked for three hours that night.

  Three entire hours.

  Honestly, if I were to add up all the times Derek and I had held a conversation, just the two of us, it probably didn’t even come close to being a whole three hours.

  Emmett and I had been texting every day since then. It had been over a week, and we were still texting like high schoolers who just got their first phones.

  I inhaled another deep breath, loving the refreshing scent of spring, and tapped my heeled toe on the cobblestone. Derek’s car was about to arrive any second, and I audibly groaned.

  This night would have been a whole lot better if Emmett were my date instead of Derek.

  The one thing I loved when talking to Emmett was that he wasn’t a part of this world. We talked about everything, except Derek and my impending marriage. He stayed true to his word. He told me he wouldn’t ask any more questions, and so far, even after talking several times a day, he hadn’t made a peep.

  I glanced down at my phone again, clearly annoyed, wondering where the car that Derek was sending for me was. My phone vibrated in my hand at the same time I saw that it was 4:57.

  Joy replaced my annoyance when I saw it was Emmett texting me.

  Emmett: I’m rolling my eyes because it’s a Friday night, and instead of you and me tackling something on your bucket list, you’re probably wearing that sexy-as-fuck dress.

  I laughed out loud, quickly replying.

  Me: I’m rolling my eyes, too. I don’t want to go. These events are boring, and I have to fake my happiness for the sake of my parents.

  Emmett: Don’t go. Just come hang out with me instead.

  I shook my head.

  Me: You’re a bad influence.

  Emmett: That’s what I’m here for. Are you there yet?

  Me: No, not yet. Derek’s car isn’t here yet. Did you look up that restaurant I told you about? I was told it has the best tacos in all of Ohio.

  As soon as I hit send, a sleek, black town car pulled up. I was hoping that Derek wouldn’t be inside and that he’d just be meeting me there, because I wanted to continue living in my fantasy world of texting Emmett like there was some type of future with him.

  I breathed out a bundle of held breath when I realized that he wasn’t, in fact, inside waiting for me. I didn’t admit it to Emmett, but I was a little nervous for Derek to see me wearing the color red. He specifically told me not to, and it was a really fun thought to rebel against his wishes, but I was beginning to think it was a bad idea. Maybe I did look bad in red.

  My nerves only intensified when the driver pulled the car up to the convention center. I quickly pulled out my phone, realizing that Emmett never replied. I hurriedly texted him, my fingers flying rapidly over my screen.

  Me: I’m here, and now I’m slightly worried that Derek is going to make me feel like crap for wearing red because he said I looked bad last time. If I don’t text back, he’s shoved me in a closet and demanded I change before he allows me back into the gala. LOL. />
  The driver pulled open the door, and I took his white-gloved hand, allowing him to help me out. I looked ahead and saw Derek standing by the doors in his classy black suit. He paired his suit with a red bowtie and black dress shirt. My head slanted, confused by the color choice of his bowtie.

  So he can wear red? But I can’t.

  Figures.

  I stepped one foot out in front of the other before I paused. My phone had buzzed, and something inside of me told me to read it before taking another step forward.

  Emmett: Don’t give him… or anyone, really… the power to make you feel something you’re not, Fallon. I can promise you that you look amazing. And yes, you’ll taste one of those tacos very, very soon.

  A small smile formed on my mouth. I pushed my phone back into my clutch and continued walking up to Derek. As soon as I was a few feet away, he walked over to me and leaned down to place a soft kiss on my cheek. I paused, waiting for the reprimand of my dress choice, but he pulled back and licked his lips.

  His mouth formed a devious grin, and he whispered into my ear, “I knew you would wear red simply because I told you not to. You look… beautiful. Thanks for defying me.”

  My heart turned to stone. MOTHERFUCKER! Emmett’s and my plan backfired!

  I didn’t say anything, but I knew he could tell I was seething. Derek guided my hand to his arm, and I had to hold back my pinch. What a dick! Was this his form of flirting? Was this his way of getting me to like him so we didn’t have the world’s worst marriage?

  The lights were bright, and flowers were placed in every direction. The event had been planned to perfection. Everyone had a drink in their hand and was wearing their fancy gowns and pristine suits. Servers in their white shirts, black vests, and bowties were carrying around silver platters full of hors d’oeuvres. I saw my parents up ahead. My mother wore a stunning, black sparkly gown that fit her small frame like a second skin. My father looked snazzy, as always, his graying hair combed over with a clean-shaven face.

  I ran my gaze around the room as Derek continued to pull me through the threshold. He introduced me to a few people, mentioning the fact that I was his soon-to-be fiancée. I played my part well. I smiled and shook hands, knowing my parents were watching me closely–especially my mother. It wasn’t hard for me to play my part, honestly. I was born and groomed for this sort of thing, which only made me feel worse on the inside when I knew that it wasn’t really the life I wanted.