Entice

by S. E. Hall

  Time to pull it together. I close my eyes and shake my head. Ground zero, Emmett, knock it off. What were we even talking about? Oh yeah, he asked if I was having fun and I may have answered him. “It’s beautiful out today, and everyone’s great. Thank you for bringing me.”

  “You’re welcome, Shorty pants. And with that thank you,” he lifts a finger to my face and slowly traces my jawline, “I would like to know, why a butterfly tattoo?”

  Ah, seems I’m not the only one with wandering eyes…and we’re back to tattoos.

  So he had seen it; I didn’t even think of makeup today. “Butterflies have very short lives. The minute they reach their full potential, become what they were meant to be, their clock is ticking,” I explain. “If they’d never emerged, never taken flight, they’d have postponed their end. So technically, their quest for life kills them.”

  “Emmett.” He searches my eyes back and forth, his thumb resting now on my chin to hold my gaze in place. “If you’re sick, I’ll help you,” he whispers. “Please, let me help you with whatever you need. Whoever it takes, the best in the world, I’ll find them.”

  I cup his face, the words caught in my throat, my thoughts momentarily lost to his beautiful face. “I already told you I’m not dying, Sawyer, I swear. But my destiny’s been chosen and I’ve accepted that as my path and happiness.”

  “What does that even mean? Just tell me, Emmett. Wherever you’re going,” his lips brush my own, flavored with longing and hope, “I want to go with you.”

  “Oh yeah, is that right?” My green eyes glitter with mischief as I throw his words back at him. “How can you be so sure?

  “Because from the day I first saw you until the day I saw you again, I didn’t like where I was. Now you’re here and I do. So it stands to reason that staying with you, wherever it is we’re going, is my best course.”

  “You got any ideas?” I touch his arm. “Cause I’m a little lost.” I am getting lost, every minute I spend with him making it harder to remember why I’m not allowed to enjoy it, crave it, need it like my next breath. Maybe I’ll start leaving myself sticky notes or put a snap band around my wrist as reminders of why it’s simply a bad idea to think he’s a good idea.

  A splash of cold water on my back makes me jump with a loud shriek. “Damn, that was cold!” I laugh, turning to see who got me.

  Evan is pointing at Zach, who’s pointing at Laney. I think they all three pushed each other in the pool in one giant jumble.

  “Sorry.” Evan smiles at me. “Ya’ll wanna play Chicken? Hummingbird, get in here, woman, let’s take these punks down.”

  I feel like I’ve fallen into the Planet of the Hot Guys…none of them are anything short of perfection physically, and they all treat these women like queens. I want to stay in this world, build a small cottage and move in forever…why can’t I stay?

  I’m saved from having to talk myself out of playing when Laney pipes up. “Punks, huh? Oh, we got you, come on, Dane!”

  I lean back against Sawyer, his hands rubbing up and down my arms, as we watch the teams go all out in some merciless games of Chicken. The methodic slide of his hands on my skin, coupled with his solid form, the perfect back pillow, and the hot sun, and I’m soon fighting to hold my eyes open, even amongst all the commotion.

  “Hey,” he leans over me, his hot, smooth voice in my ear, “let me carry you up to my bed for a nap.”

  “I’m fine, really. Little longer.” I turn to my side and curl into him shamelessly. I can’t help it, his skin is hot, and there’s enough of it with his enormous body to warm up every part of me. “Tell me something else, without the game, because you want to.”

  “Like what? Gotta tell ya, this is a lot easier when you tell me the question. I’m a guy; I don’t store up random facts and memories.”

  “Yes, you do; you’ve already proven that’s a lie several times. But I’ll let you slide this once. Tell me about your parents.”

  “No, pick something else.”

  That refusal was adamant and I want to know why, my head perking up. “You don’t have to tell me,” I run my hand gradually up his chest, warm, slick with suntan oil and hard as stone, “but will you tell me why you won’t tell me?”

  “Too ugly. I don’t ever want you to look at me like the people who know do. Ever.” He takes a few deep breaths, so deep from such a large body, and I feel my body lift up and down with his lungs. “What about your parents?”

  “Very ugly.” I lay my head back down but leave my hand beside it. “Man, we need some happier questions.” I chuckle, and he joins me.

  “Em, you’re almost asleep. You ready for me to carry you up now?”

  Wiped out, I nod and curl my arms around his neck. He lifts me with one arm behind my back and the other under my knees and I can’t help but feel cherished.

  “Bye!” a myriad of voices call out from the pool as we leave.

  “Don’t forget, Thursday night Crew Night!” Laney calls from the water. “You better come too, Emmett!”

  “Mhm,” I answer her with a mumble into Sawyer’s neck, where my head rests on his shoulder.

  He walks us down a hall and then lays me, as though I am made of glass, onto the softest bed I’ve ever felt. My body sinks into the mattress and I turn on my side, snuggling my face into a pillow that’s saturated with the smell of Sawyer.

  If I can’t have him, at least I can see him in my dreams, and smell him now too.

  I hear the buzz of the fan he must have turned on, then feel covers being tucked tightly around me.

  “Get some rest, Shorty,” he whispers, kissing the top of my head, “and when you wake up, we’ll figure out how to make you mine.”

  Pretending to be already so deep in sleep I don’t hear him, I will my breathing to remain even, concealing the panic his almost irresistible words stir in me. The lights go out and he pulls the door silently closed, with one more whispered, “Sweet dreams, Emmett,” before he retreats.

  When I finally pry my eyes open, the room is completely black, no light offered from the window. I’m not surprised I slept into the night; not only was I exhausted, but sinking into this glorious bed was intoxicating.

  I try to sit up when I’m stopped by a large arm slinking around my waist and tightening its hold, begging me to stay close. I slowly push out my butt, seeking reconfirming contact with an actual body, proof that this isn’t some wonderful dream I never want to awake from. Oh my!

  “You keep doing that and we’re gonna be talkin’ bout a whole new ball game, woman,” he mumbles in a sleepy voice.

  I flip over and gasp. “Sawyer, why are you in this bed?”

  “Well, Shorty, that’s an easy one. It’s my bed.”

  “And the little surprise poking me?”

  “If by little you mean gargantuan, then it’s my dick. He likes you too.”

  Sitting up abruptly, I cross my arms with a huff. “Do you have a lamp or something? I can’t see a thing.”

  “You can feel your way,” he suggests with a chuckle, fumbling around and knocking things over before finally switching on a light. “Nice nap?”

  Oh, God. Sleepy Sawyer is even more tempting than usual Sawyer. He’s lying on his side, looking over at me with one arm stretched above the pillows and one down his side. There’s already a slight dark stubble on his jaw and his blue eyes are downright sinful.

  “Wonderful, thank you.” I look away, down at the fascinating sheets. “For carrying me and letting me sleep, I mean. But…but I didn’t think you’d get in here with me.”

  “Why not?” He scoots over, sliding both arms around my waist and kissing the outside of my thigh. “I’ve never slept with a girl before,” he drops a kiss on my knee, “though I definitely understand the appeal now.”

  I lay one of my hands over his at my waist and rub circles with my thumb. I’m not sure whether I want to soften the blow for him or soak up the feeling for myself. “Sawyer, I told you many times that this can’t happen. We barely
know each other and the stuff you don’t know—it’s pretty big.”

  “Then tell me.” He lifts up, kissing my shoulder then letting his tongue linger and trace small circles near my collarbone. “I don’t think there’s anything you could say to make me not want you.”

  “Is that it?” I turn my face to his. “You want me? So if I sleep with you, you’ll listen and go be happy? Fine.” I flop back, flat against the mattress with my arms out to my sides and speak in monotone. “Oh. Yeah. Take. Me. Now.”

  He rolls and lays his body on top of mine, keeping most of his weight on his forearms, which are deliciously bracketed on either side of my head. “Don’t insult me, Emmett, I don’t deserve it. Yes, I’ve fucked a lot of women. Yes, I would love to get lost inside of your sweet little body, but not like that. I want to know you, everything about you. I want to make love to you, which I’ve never done before. Never. When I take you, it will be because you can’t wait another fucking second, and you’ll be begging me to take you to a place where only you and I exist, a place where only I can show you I love your heart as much as your body, your mind and everything else that makes you you.” He gets rights in my face now, our noses bumping and his plump bottom lip grazing mine. “And you’ll never want to leave that place. You’ll feel me here,” he rubs a hand over my heart, “you’ll ache for me here,” he traces a circle around one nipple, bringing it to painfully pointed life, “and you’ll beg for me here.” He brazenly cups between my legs and I whimper, biting my bottom lip in a futile attempt to stop my panting. “You’ll feel me in every part of you, every day, until we’re together in our place again.”

  I shake my head back and forth, shrinking into the mattress. “I won’t. I can’t.”

  “Why. Not?” he growls, his voice harsh but his eyes still kind.

  This is it—this is where I tell him…and lose him. My mouth is open, my eyes squeezed shut, ready to finally blurt it out when he speaks again.

  “Emmett, look at me. Don’t shut me out. I’ll pick the lock, baby.”

  Against any judgment, I slowly open my eyes, shuddering in actual physical pain at what I see. His face looms over me, filled with agony, asking me to take the leap with him.

  “Hey, you’re shaking. Never mind. Shh, new plan. Don’t tell me yet. If you don’t have complete faith in me, I haven’t earned your secrets. When you trust me, trust that I mean it when I say I won’t run, no matter what it is, then you tell me.” He lays a finger over my lips. “That’s it, end of discussion, so stop worrying about it. Tell me other things.”

  “L-like what?” I’m dazed; nothing’s up or down, round or square anymore. He’s pleading with me not to tell him and I’m berating myself for considering taking the coward’s way out. “I really think I should tell you, Sawyer. Just let me get it out, then I’ll get out.”

  “Nope.” He laughs, rolling over onto his back. He takes me with him, tucking me into his side. “Surely you can think of something else to talk about. Stimulate my mind, woman,” he teases, chuckling to himself.

  Our friendship or whatever we have is baffling and confusing, but I don’t want it to end. So for now, I curb the nagging guilt and soak up Sawyer.

  Fascinated, I lift one finger to his nipple, examining it. “Why pierce them if you’re not gonna wear a ring in it?”

  “Do you have ADD? Is that your secret?” He smirks at his own cleverness, kissing my head, as seems his developing habit. “I’m fully prepared to have my mind challenged and you touch my nipple? Playing with fire, Shorty.”

  I blush, but simply can’t look away from his chest. Suffice it to say, his physique piques my interest.

  “If you want me to wear them, I will. I’ll wear all of them, just say the word.”

  “All of them?” I raise my head, my mouth agape as I stare at him. “How many piercings do you have? No wait, I bet I can guess.” His words come back to me, and the feeling of…I have no idea what to call it, washes over me. I know, without a doubt, the answer, and somehow I feel closer to him, special, that I do. “Seven, right?”

  He nods, his dark blue eyes boring into my own. “Very astute, Ms. Young. Now, can you tell me where they all are?”

  “Two in your ears, two for your nipples, your eyebrow; that’s five.” I look him over gradually, letting my eyes shamefully take in his large, hard body, every defined line a thing of beauty. He lets his tongue slide from his mouth and wiggles it at me. I lean in, getting a closer look, and sure enough there’s a small hole. “Okay, that’s six. One more,” I tap my chin thoughtfully, eyeing his belly button.

  He laughs out loud, his stomach muscles tightening under my stare. “I didn’t pierce my belly button, Emmett.” Still staring at his tummy, his hand glides down the ripples, one finger tracing over his dark happy trail. “Lower,” he taunts in a rich, tantalizing voice, no longer holding even the hint of a laugh.

  I don’t even know my own body, shivering yet burning hot at the same time from the thought of his. And my eyes, they roam lower, following the trail of his finger, taking in the outline of one very large, very hard penis through his light blue basketball shorts. Like a brazen hussy, I squint, searching for the hint of any jewelry.

  “I don’t have it in. I usually don’t.” His raspy comment startles me, and I look up at him. His eyes are smoldering, filled with the same lust I feel between my legs.

  “Why not?” I whisper, licking my lips.

  “Nobody gets that, Emmett, nobody.” He sits up, putting his face inches from my own. “I did it on a dare, and it hurt too bad not to keep it. But it’s all yours if you want it, Angel.”

  “Why? Why can I demand I want it and get it?”

  “’Cause I said you could. Listen,” he holds my face between his palms, one thumb outlining my jawline, “I have no idea why it takes some couples years to fall in love and some only a day, or if any of them even know. But I do know that I like you, so much. I want to know you, and I think you want the same thing.”

  This went from the kinkiest conversation I’ve ever had in my life, my mind’s eye conjuring up fantastic images, to the sweetest. My heart is banging against its own walls and the tingles that started in my belly have now turned into sharp, sporadic twinges much lower.

  Holy mother, I want him. I mean, I want him like I want air.

  No, no, Emmett. Tears threaten in my eyes and I quickly turn my head, starting to climb from the bed. “I have to go,” I stammer, trying to untangle myself from the sheets, but only getting stuck further. Grappling, swinging limbs and sheets in a tizzy, I finally free myself and stumble to the bedroom door, still embarrassingly in a bathing suit and shoeless. I don’t know how, but I have to get the hell out of here and away from him. I can only torture myself so much.

  One arm comes over my head, bracing the door shut. I feel every hard inch of him against the back of my body as his other hand moves my hair to the side. “Don’t leave, please. I’ll be good.” He runs his nose up the side of my neck, whispering against my skin. “You’re just so beautiful, Emmett, and in my bed, still in that damn bikini. I wouldn’t be a man if I didn’t want you.”

  I lean forward, letting my forehead rest on the door, but it’s no escape as he leans with me, pressing the length of his hard body against my own.

  “I’ll get you some shorts and a t-shirt to change into if it’ll make you feel better,” he says. “Come back to bed, it’s late. We can talk about astrophysics and grandmas just as long as I can hold you.”

  I can’t help but snicker, the desperation in his voice as he invites me to discuss grandmas with him is so cute, and charming. “I don’t want to leave, but we can’t have it both ways. You say not to tell you, that we’ll be friends, but then you make me feel…”

  “I know, I know, my fault.” He rubs my shoulder and kisses behind its wake. “Don’t spook on me, Shorty. I understand.”

  No, he doesn’t, but it’s good enough for now. It’s late, I’m tired, and he’s warm and inviting.

&nbs
p; “Okay, some clothes would be nice,” I admit. “Maybe I’ll hop in your shower real quick?”

  “Uhh,” he growls behind me, pressing his body into me more firmly. “Don’t tell me you’re going to shower, woman. Tell me you’re gonna go poop and blow your nose.”

  And the moment is officially gone… I die laughing, turning to face him. “Gross!” I slap his chest, still giggling. “Go get me the clothes, ya big nasty!”

  I take my time in the shower, praying he falls asleep before I come out. The cold shower thing doesn’t work on me. I lather my hair twice, regretting it when I realize he has no conditioner in here, and double soap every inch of myself before finally turning off the water. I dry off and slip on the way oversized clothes he gave me, towel drying my hair to an acceptable sleeping dampness and creep back in to his bedroom on tiptoe.

  “Are you asleep?” I whisper to his back as I climb in behind him.

  “No.” He rolls over, smiling at me widely. “Nice try with the marathon shower, though. Why are you avoiding me? I told you I’d be good.”

  “I’m not,” I say over-exuberantly, burrowing down under the covers. “I’m just not used to spending the night in a man’s bed, I guess.”

  “You haven’t ever done that?”

  “God no!”

  “Oh, Em, you keep making me happier every time you let something slip out.”

  “So glad I could help.” I use my thumb and finger to flick him in the chest. “Go to sleep. I’m wiped.

  “Night, Shorty.”

  “Night, Seven.”

  Chapter 9

  Then He Found Me

  —Emmett—

  The digital face on the alarm says 9:24 when I wake again, now alone in the bed. Or not alone…for there’s a note on his pillow with my name on it.

  Em,

  Maybe not exactly like a lumberjack, but definitely a snore. Good morning, lovely.