by Hall, S. E.
“And you’re forgiven.” She leans over, kissing my cheek. “How much longer?”
“A while. Why, do you need something?”
“No, no reason.”
“Short stuff?”
“Huh?”
“You need to pee, don’t you?”
She huffs, shoulders dropping. “Yes, sorry.”
***Emmett***
Cancel the dream cottage I wanted to build—I want to live here for the rest of my life.
Tucked away off the main road and surrounded by dense woods, Hillside Manor is absolutely magnificent. Our room is beyond breathtaking, the humongous bed so high off the ground I have to take a running start or get a boost up from Sawyer. In the corner, there’s a mini-kitchenette, ensuring you don’t have to leave the room if you don’t want to, though you can go downstairs for meals in your pajamas if you feel like it.
The best part is the bathroom, hands down. A Nickleback-sized garden tub is sunk low in the floor, candles at the ready. Which is exactly where I’m reclined, lost in serenity, when I hear music.
I thought he wanted a nap?
Sitting up, I train my ears, making sure I’m right. “Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis Presley is playing. What a great song; my gramma loved The King.
Sawyer appears in the doorway and turns off the lights, letting the lit candle he’s holding be his guide. He sits on the edge of the tub, putting the candle down on the countertop and dipping his right hand under the water to find mine. “I can’t help it, Emmett, I fell. I love you, birthday girl.”
Oh my gosh, that’s right. With everything going crazy in my life, I’d completely forgotten. How’s it even possible to forget your own birthday?
“Thank you,” I whisper, completely enchanted by him.
“You’re welcome.” He winks. “So what do you want for your birthday?”
“You, in this tub with me.”
“Em, we—”
“Nuh uh.” I squeeze his hand, stopping him. “I’m fine, no problems, and Dr. Greer said it was okay.”
“But what—”
I let go of his hand, letting my own disappear under the water. I slump further down in the bubbles, my head falling back against the wall, and blatantly spread my legs as wide as the sides of the tub allow. “Mmm,” I close my eyes and moan, “it’s okay, babe. I got it.”
“Temptress,” he hisses.
Eyes still closed, I giggle, hearing his clothes rustle off and hit the floor at lightning speed.
“That water better not be too hot,” he grumbles. “You know that, right? Speaking of which, you know not to get in the hot tub should Laney ask, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sawyer,” I agree ho-humly. He just can’t stand it when I take control of the situation.
“Sit up,” he commands, to which I gladly comply. Sliding in behind me, his long, large legs come around either side of me, sending water up and over the edge.
Big hands come under my arms and around the front to massage my breasts. “Feels good. No hotter than this, though, Em.”
“I heard you, bossy,” I hum, enjoying the feel of his hands on me.
“We gotta get one of these tubs,” he murmurs against my shoulder.
“Or we could stay in this one forever,” I mumble, purposely squirming, making sure my ass grinds back into him.
His response is to pinch both my nipples, rolling them between his thumb and finger. “Promise me something?”
“What’s that?” I get up on my knees, sending another splash to the floor, and then turn and straddle him. Very nice, he put in his nipple rings like I asked. Sexy. As. Hell.
He stops my hands from their journey up his chest. “Promise me that you won’t hide. You want my cock again? I want your heart first. Tell me,” his always deep blue eyes, now resembling a starless night sky, stare through mine, “that we’ll be forever.”
It steals my breath, his sweet, sincere plea. I’m done trying to convince him that I’m the wrong one. If he wants me, maybe I should let myself believe I’m the right one. I heard someone once say, “if you know you’re gonna get your ass kicked, walk away from the fight before wasting energy on even one punch.” Honestly, I’ve known from day one this was a fight I’d never win, so here it is—my white flag. I’m done attempting not to notice the days he wears Usher versus Obsession. I’m totally over swapping pillowcases every other day so his scent is always most potent under my cheek. And I refuse, for one more minute, to credit pregnancy hormones for what one smirk from the man does to every part of me.
“Em,” he breaks into my thoughts, “I need you to promise me.”
I nod, smiling from ear to ear. He’s taking a huge chance on me because he thinks I’m worth it. I need to do the same for him. “I promise. No running, no hiding. We belong together.”
“Mine?” He lifts a hand to my cheek, the thumb tracing my jawline. When I nod, he runs that hand down my body to my stomach. “Mine?”
I suck in a breath and tug at my lower lip, trying not to cry. Yeah, right, like that’s possible. Tears stream down my face, but again, I nod.
“I love you, Emmett.” He starts to kiss me, my tears, my eyelids, my forehead, lastly my lips. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Sawyer,” I choke out, chuckling at my pathetic blabbering. “You’ll always be my first miracle.”
Now he tilts my head, kissing me deeply. I kiss him back with all the adoration and lust I feel coursing through me; this sexy, badass, tender man wants me, and he’s always making me feel like the most precious gem in the whole world. I sneak one hand between our chests and give a tug on his nipple ring—scorching hot on him.
“Love these,” I praise into his mouth.
“Love these,” he answers instantly with a pull on my own nipple.
Ever so slowly, absorbing the feel of every muscle, my hand creeps lower until it’s exploring the head of his dick. “Want this,” I run my tongue along the inside of his upper lip, “now.”
“Yeah?” He sucks on my bottom lip and tugs, opening his eyes and finding mine. He leans back, shifting his hips, and wraps his right hand around himself. “You want this?” he taunts me, holding our locked gaze as he leisurely rubs himself.
I silently nod, giving him my best seductive look.
“Then climb on it, babe,” he encourages. “Take it.”
One hand braced on his pec, I raise my bottom half and spread my knees out further. I guide myself over him until I feel the tip of him hinting at my entrance. I try to hold his gaze while I slide down him, but he’s not looking at me right now. His orbs are DEFCON 5, locked on the exact point where we’re about to join, his tongue sliding methodically back and forth along his lower lip.
“That’s my girl,” he croons, fingers curled mercilessly on my hips. “Take me in you, baby, nice and slow.”
Like there’s another option; it’s a tight fit and more than a tad intimidating. I look down when I swear I feel him poking my ribs. What? Jesus Christ, there’s more.
“Relax, babe.” He catches my eyes now. “You’ve had it all before. Relax your muscles and take deep breathes. Take all the time you need.” He winks that sexy smirk, telling me he doesn’t mind the slow burn one bit. “Lemme help.” He releases one hip, the blood rushing back into the spot he’s been squeezing, and presses his thumb to my clit, moving it left then right to really get in there. Oh yeah, that instantly makes my pussy moisten, the natural lubricant sliding me further down on him.
“Yeah, Em, good girl, baby,” he groans, rubbing harder on my hot spot. “All of it.” His head falls back as my skin finally rests flush against him.
I give it a second without moving and bask in the overwhelming feeling of fullness. It’s a lot different in this position; a hard, long rod straight up in me, the hint of his coarse hairs tickling my most sensitive spots. Acclimated, I start to rock, up and back, down and forward, and the animalistic groan that rips from Sawyer’s chest spurs me on, encouraging me to p
ick up speed.
“Fucking hell, Shorty, you have no idea how good you feel. Ride my dick, babe, ah fuck yes, Em,” he grunts, breathing hard in and out, “ride me.” He never stops his ministrations on my clit, and when his left hand guides my hip, showing me how to roll my hips, I get this curve and pop thing going that feels like nirvana.
“Gonna, oh gonna—” I hiss through my teeth, my throat closing up as the sensation grows.
“Yeah you are.” He sits up now, sucking one breast in his mouth and biting my nipple gently. “So damn good, Emmy, let go all over me.”
And I do; grinding my clit into his thumb, wiggling around to find the right spot, and detonating like the space shuttle at lift off. “Uhh,” I moan, never wanting it to end.
It’s a whole new kind of orgasm than the last time and I feel the difference again as he thrusts up into me. Leaning over him, I take his nipple in my mouth, tugging on the silver ring there with my teeth.
“Gonna fill you up, baby.” He grasps both my hips strongly, holding me down and still, forcing me to absorb the impact of his deep, hard thrusts up into me. “Fuck, fuck,” he pants, the last sound a long growl until he’s finished twitching inside me.
I rest my cheek upon his chest; playing with the nipple ring right in front of me. He rubs my back, kissing the top of my head. We stay like that, no words, until the water starts to get a chill to it. Staying inside me, he rolls us to one side, slipping out of me then and kissing my nose. “Stay right there.”
When he climbs out of the tub, I take a moment to appreciate his tight, fine ass. I’m enjoying the view immensely, but I’m also curious—how the hell is it as tan as the rest of his body? “Do you go to tanning beds?” I ask.
“No,” he chuckles, wrapping a towel around his waist then grabbing another off the shelf. “Why?”
“How is your butt as tan as your arms then?” I pull the plug, then stand, taking his hand offered out to me.
He wraps the towel around me, downright snickering at me. “I have no idea. What about you? Your ass isn’t exactly fluorescent. Sexy as fuck, yes. Bright white, no.”
I reach behind me to lift the towel, craning my neck to have a looksee at my own rear end. Huh. I’ll be, he’s right. “Where do you come up with this stuff, anyway?” He chuckles as he asks, smiling at me with warmth and sincerity.
Shrugging, I move around him to brush my teeth and pull back my damp hair. Who I see in the mirror is a stranger, a version of Emmett Young who was only just born.
I look content.
There’s no fear or second guessing in my eyes, no hint of fraud in my smile or burden to the lay of my shoulders. My jaw is slack, unclenched for the first time in as long as I can remember, and the blush to my cheeks is the perfect shade.
Scratch that, I look happy.
“I love you.” His arms come around my waist from behind, our gazes meeting in the mirror. “Never thought it’d happen to me; maybe even thought I was making you up. Turns out you were better than a fantasy and more than I’d ever been foolish enough to hope to want. You see that absolute beauty in the mirror there?” He points and I shrink in embarrassment, but he quickly moves my face once again. “You think that’s gorgeous, you should see this.” He moves his hand over my heart. “Most determined, caring, courageous, resilient, loving person I know. And she’s all mine.”
Behind us on the back of the door are plush robes, so he grabs one, holding it open for me. I loosen the knot on my towel and let it drop to my feet, our eyes still connected in the mirror. Feeling his way, the robe is draped around me, my arms maneuvered through. Then I turn around and do the same for him.
“You ready for bed, lil’ mama?”
“Yes.” I yawn at the reminder.
“Movie?”
“Nah,” I pull him behind me, then stop waiting for his touch on my hips for my hoist into the bed, “too tired.”
He climbs into the bed, pulling me right up against his front, one arm over my waist, loosening the knot on the robe. “I couldn’t sleep those few nights, Shorty.” He nudges my hair off my shoulder then pulls the cloth off my shoulder. “I missed this.”
“Me too,” I sigh, tipping my head left to help his cause.
“Then why you’d pull back? You never really told me.”
I flip over and grab his cheeks, stroking them and looking him directly in the eye. “I refused to believe I was as great of a package as you seem to think, and I guess I’m a glass half empty girl. When I didn’t know for sure all I might lose if you ran, I could deal, pretend we had more time as friends. But once I felt you, really felt the instant you became the other part of me, thinking of how much harder it’d hurt when you ran? It shredded me; all at once I had so much more to lose. I was scared.” I pause, collecting my thoughts while sampling his sweet lips. “I thought if I gave you up slowly, and first, by the time you did leave, I’d be used to it. But then, I slept without you. I ate without you. Something was funny and I’d turn to tell you, but you weren’t there. I couldn’t do it. I’m not strong enough to let you go. I already had a “forgive me” letter written; I was gonna hand it to you and run, but then I had to call about…you know. I’m selfish and scared and new to feeling like this, but I’m hoping you’ll love me anyway.”
“You’re as far from selfish as one can possibly get. And I love you for all you are, not even though.” He drops a delicate kiss to my lips. “Never again though, Emmy, promise.”
“I promise,” I reassure him with a smile, a yawn taking me by surprise.
“Baby, I know you’re tired,” his hot breath is on my skin, “but can you stay awake for me to give you your birthday present?”
“This trip was my present. That bath was my present.”
He kisses the crook of my neck, along the slope of my shoulder, and chuckles. “Pretty sure the bath was my present. Hang on.” He gets out of the bed and goes to his suitcase where he pulls out a wrapped package.
“Sawyer, you got me too much,” I argue.
“Zip it.” He air smooches to soften the blow of his directive. “Happy birthday, Emmy.” He hands me the gift and climbs back beside me.
“When’s your birthday?”
“May fifteenth. Now open it.”
Peeling back the paper, I snicker at the excited man by my side, twitchy with anticipation more so even than me. “Oh my,” I gasp, moisture building in my eyes.
It’s a black leather journal with “Shorty” embossed on the front, accompanied by a black and gold pen.
“Sawyer,” I turn to him, not quite sure what to say besides, “thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, love. No more tiny notepads in your back pocket. You deserve a big, badass place for your thoughts.”
I go in for a chaste kiss on his lips. “You still can’t read them.”
“Dammit,” he grumbles. “I can see your nipples but not your notes?”
My head falls back on my laugh. “They’re not notes!”
“Pussy but not your passages?”
“Better,” I set aside the gifts, “but still, no.”
CHAPTER 18
The Sweetest Things
***Emmett***
The birthday weekend with Sawyer was the happiest I’ve ever been in my life—and way too short. Driving home, I can actually feel my mood start to sour the closer we get to reality. Not that our real life isn’t spectacular, because he makes it so, but still…
He takes hold of my hand. “Babe, we can go back soon, I promise.”
“That obvious, huh?”
“Lil’ bit.” He smiles. “Here, I got something for the baby.” He releases my hand to fiddle with the radio while driving. “The book said babies can hear voices and music, so… I give you…La Baby Lullabies.”
Me, the mother, should probably think of these things, but I must confess that it does something to me to watch him get so involved, so excited at his discoveries.
The first song is slow and peaceful, something about the
moon. Not bad. We smile at each other, an endearing moment of classical music that of course we both find painful to the ears, but good for our baby.
The second song is morbid, about falling out of a tree or a swing or something. “Oh my God,” I gasp, shocked someone thought this song would comfort a baby. “That’s awful. They said—”
“I heard.” He slams the “off” button. “Bastards.”
“I think Alex is a Bruno Mars baby.” I reach up, plugging in my phone and searching artists.
“Alex?” he asks, turning down “It Will Rain.”
“Cute, right? And unisex.”
Sawyer goes silent, highly unusual, and drops his shoulders. “Yeah, cute.”
“Hey,” my hand finds his now and squeezes, “what just happened? The CD was very sweet. We can try some other songs if you want.”
“That CD blew—babies falling to their deaths? Fuck Rock-A-Bye,” he grumbles, his grip on the steering wheel noticeably tightening.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Or something.”
“I guess I kinda thought we’d pick the baby’s name together,” he says softly.
Oh. Well, if a Sawyer pout isn’t the sexiest, most charming thing ever, I just don’t know what is.
“God, you’re the best man alive,” I whisper, constantly astounded by the many sides of Sawyer. “Babe, I have to call the baby something and we don’t know what we’re having, so I thought Alex was a cute unisex nickname, for now. I wouldn’t pick the name without you. Promise.”
He cuts his eyes to me skeptically, that luscious bottom lip of his pulling up in the corner. “Alex works for now.”
“You let me know if you think of something better,” I suggest, hiding my smirk.
***
“Surprise!”
I look around my living room, startled. There are no balloons and nothing’s changed, the only occupants Laney, Bennett and Whitley, who are all three beaming at us and clapping. I’m not sure what the surprise is exactly, but I thank them anyway.