by Lynn Rae
Emily’s eyes brightened with tears and she gave a jerky nod of her head. “I appreciate you bringing me out here to do this.”
He returned from his self-castigation over his parenting mistakes, shaken by her fragile tone. “Out here to do what?”
“Let me know it’s over. It’s hard to say it’s over when it didn’t really start, but better to do it now before we get hurt any worse.” She heaved out a shaky breath and reached inside her purse to pull out a wadded paper tissue. “I mean, it hurts really badly anyway, but it would be so much worse later on, after I’d, we’d…”
With a choking cry, she pressed the tissue to her face, covering her eyes as her shoulders twitched. Completely confused, Paul reached out and touched her arm.
“Emily, what’s going on here?”
She swiped the tissue against her eyes and dabbed at her nose, staring down at her feet. “I understand, and it’s the right decision. It’ll be all right. Shelly’s clearly taking on the statue situation, so we won’t have to run into each other anymore. I’ll even be leaving town soon—”
“Stop. Wait. Why are you leaving?”
“The grant runs out in a few months and I’m sure I won’t have a job here afterward, so we won’t have to have any awkward encounters.” She sniffled and crumpled the tissue in her hands.
He felt as disoriented as if someone had slammed into the car. “Are you breaking up with me?”
She shivered and half nodded, half shook her head. “It’s for the best, isn’t it?”
“No. It’s not for the best at all.”
“But, your daughter—”
“Is going to grow to accept this or not, her choice. Same for my sister.” He cleared his throat and willed his stomach to stop cramping. The idea that Emily might not want to give them a chance made his skin shiver. He’d thought he’d survived the toughest conversations of the day after Courtney and Shelly, but Emily’s grief might overwhelm them both. He couldn’t be a caveman and just drag her off to his house to demonstrate how much he wanted to be with her. But he also didn’t want to do this sitting in his car parked in front of the house of people he’d just met. They might be peeping through the curtains right now, worrying about why he was making their friend cry. “Let’s go. I’m taking you back to your house where we can talk.”
“But my car’s here.”
“We’ll get it later.” Deciding silence was better than stammering, he started the engine and pulled away, navigating the streets of his hometown with more confidence than he felt about anything else. He kept his attention on the road, with only occasional glances at Emily as she sniffled next to him. They were close to her house now, and he didn’t want to end the evening by sideswiping someone’s parked car.
Easing the car into her narrow drive, he momentarily wondered how he was going to arrange the return of her vehicle from where they’d just left while he went through the motions of helping her from her seat. He’d solve that later, it was a much simpler challenge that the one facing him. Right now, he needed to know if she was going to invite him inside, or insist on having this conversation in front of her door where her burly neighbor Nate could volunteer to toss him to the curb.
Moving his hand from her back almost hurt once they reached her door, and he tightened his mouth rather than speak aloud. What would he say? Beg her for another chance? He’d be happy to do it. Without saying a word, Emily unlocked her door and pushed it open. She turned to him and his stomach fell. Here it comes.
“Come inside with me. Before Nate rumbles up.”
Paul blinked, completely blindsided by her invitation. Nodding his head, he let a tiny sprout of anticipation grow in his heart, fueled by his overwhelming attraction to her. Ever since Courtney had blundered in and spewed her rancor, he’d been distracted by worry and dismay, but with Emily standing there in the evening light with a sweet curve of welcome on her lips, he let himself remember their intimacy. How tender she’d been, how she’d welcomed both his initial hesitation and final urgency.
Emily made a beckoning gesture as she stepped over the threshold. He followed, helpless to resist her.
Pulse thudding in her ears, Emily kept her mouth shut as she shut and locked her door, unwilling to risk saying anything and potentially bursting into tears again. She wanted him, desired him, but fear and regret overwhelmed her. If she hadn’t allowed herself to follow her desire, they would have had a decorous dinner last night and Courtney never would have seen them in such a compromising position this morning. If their relationship had progressed slowly enough, his daughter and Shelly might have been better set to ease into it without all this pain. Pain for her, and so much pain for Paul. She’d seen it etched in the lines on his face when he’d seen her enter the city conference room, and when he’d found her at Nicholas’ house.
She was too anxious to look at him now, terrified of the conversation she’d choked back in the car ride over. The idea of sitting with him on her sofa, holding his hand, and explaining again how this would never work between them made her shake. He’d say she was a wonderful woman, and he was so sorry about everything that had happened. Risking a glance at him, she saw he was staring at her, his jaw tight.
Suddenly, everything weighed too much. She dropped her keys, her bag, her jacket, her shoes, and with every shed item she felt even heavier, dread filling her like a glacier. Tears burned in her eyes and she sniffed. The one time she’d pushed herself to be confident and bold, it had blown up in her face with more collateral damage than she cared to contemplate.
Paul’s tight shoulders sank, and he lowered his head with a slow shake. “Please don’t tell me to go.” His soft voice riveted her, and she stared into his dark and anguished eyes.
“I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t. Ask me to stay.”
“But they—”
“They aren’t here. You and I are here. What we had last night, that’s what I want.”
Her heart was running so fast she felt it shaking her whole body. Even though what he’d just said was exactly how she felt, she knew it couldn’t work. Hadn’t the bad luck following them made that clear? She’d been so overwhelmed by how good he felt, she’d ruined their chances by rushing. “I moved too fast.”
Paul sucked in a deep breath and took a step her way. “You didn’t go too fast at all. You were exactly what I needed.”
“Past tense.” She couldn’t resist the clarification, even if she felt like she was choking on it. If this was over, they both needed to know it right now.
“Present tense.” He took another step until he was mere inches away and she tilted her head up to watch his face as he looked down at her with such an open expression she reeled. He swallowed and slowly reached his hands out until they cupped around her elbows. “You’ve been right for me from the start. Please don’t take that away from me, Emily.”
Without further thought, she fell into him, pressing her forehead to his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his back as her legs weakened. Here and now was all she wanted. Easing a hand up to cup his cheek, she lifted herself to kiss him but she didn’t have to move much since he was already seeking her. He settled his mouth against hers and curved his arms around her tight enough to lift her to her toes.
“I’m going too fast again,” she whispered as she forced her lips away from his.
“No, I’m too slow.”
His unexpected humor dazzled her, and she stared at him, unsure of what should happen next. He smiled and bumped his nose to hers. “I should take you to dinner.”
“No, you should take me right here.” Emily blinked at her audacity. Where had that come from? The answer to that was easy, she was shaking with desire and relief, and food and manners were the last things on her mind.
“I probably should.” Paul nodded once and with a soft groan, he cupped his hands over the soft knit shirt covering her breasts and held her as he nuzzled her neck. All the joints in her body loosened as her temperature rocketed.
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br /> “I want you. I can’t help it,” she whispered, anxious for his approval even as she struggled to remain upright.
“Here?”
“The sofa’s right over there,” she gasped as he pressed his hips tight to hers. Oh, he was ready, and so was she. “The bed is a little bit farther.”
“Sofa.” He sounded amused. Guiding her with gentle presses against her shoulders and hips to the sofa, he backed her toward the couch, still covered with a crumpled quilt she’d huddled under after she’d rushed home that morning. She pushed his jacket away, barely feeling the soft fleece under her fingertips before she ran her hands over his shoulders and traced up to his scalp and into his thick, springy hair.
When the backs of her legs met the sofa, she fell back and pulled him with her. The pressure of his body against hers was bliss and she groaned deep in her throat as he touched her. Paul’s body trembled under her hands and she smiled in the near dark. They whispered to each other as the rest of their clothes came off. It didn’t take long. Then she could feel him, enjoy the smooth warmth of his skin and flex of muscles against her own. Her curtains were slightly open and the light from a streetlamp dimly illuminated their bodies. She watched his hand as he grasped her breast, seeing and feeling combined into an incredibly heady sensation.
“I want to make you happy.”
“You already do.”
“No, I mean…” Paul deep voice, roughened by desire, tickled her ear and she shivered against him, her breasts pressing into his chest, her thighs flush against his. He drew slightly back and cupped her hips in his warm hands. “I know last night you didn’t…and this morning I couldn’t—”
Emily focused on what he was saying and not what he was doing to her body. “There isn’t a checklist. I’m not here for quid pro quo. Just touching you like this makes me so happy.”
She’d never been all that successful at orgasms but that hadn’t lessened her desire for intimate contact. Paul was sweet to care, but she didn’t relish the idea of their spontaneity turning into a protracted and ultimately unsuccessful attempt for her to climax. She’d just be sore and dissatisfied and he’d feel like a failure.
“But I want to. Please let me.” Paul ceased all his caresses and watched her, waiting for her to decide. Something about his kind tone enticed her.
“Let you what?”
“Touch you. Sit up.” His hands directed her up from her back until she was seated on the couch properly. Gathering her to his side, he kissed her, encouraging her to slide her leg over his hip. Distracted for a second by his mouth, she jumped when he slid his hand between her legs. A few quick kisses later, he shifted against her, putting more pressure just where she wanted it. She stopped thinking about his erection pressing against her belly, stopped thinking about how someone might see them if they crouched in the bushes in front of her front window. All that mattered was his mouth touching hers and his barely moving fingers against her aching sex. Everything swelled and tightened and she couldn’t hold back her agonized gasps. A car’s loud muffler grumbled outside and she lost focus in an instant, pulling back and shaking her head.
“Paul, I don’t think I can.”
“Let’s try again,” he whispered against her throat as one hand stroked along her thighs. “Together.”
The power of that word, combined with how intense her attraction was to the man warming her body with his every touch overcame the last of her caution and she let out a sigh of surrender. Last night she’d cared for him, encouraged and accepted him. Now he wanted to give her the same attention. He moved in front of her and his hands traced down her legs as he knelt on the floor. Oh, he wanted to, oh. Now his hands were at her hips and urging her forward. She put out a restraining hand. He grasped her wrist and kissed her palm.
Relaxing her hips and knees, she spread her legs and gripped his shoulders as he shifted between her thighs. Shivering as he nuzzled along the twitching skin of her lower belly, she tried not to think about how her body must feel and smell to him. She was soft and full, so different than his trim and fit late wife.
He didn’t seem to be put off by any of her curves as he traced his way closer to the part of her aching for him. First, his fingertips brushed along her folds, and she again jumped in shock, her knees lifting. With his free hand he encouraged her to drape her legs over his shoulders, giving her thigh comforting strokes even as his fingers eased against her. The painful ache returned, thrumming between her legs in counterpoint to the tiny circles his fingers made. Her only warning of his next move was the gust of warm breath before his mouth found her, his wet tongue sliding against her equally wet sex. A loud groan escaped her throat, and she arched back against the sofa, her lower half pressing his way desperate not to lose the connection. He grabbed her hip and slid his fingers around to clutch at her bottom as she shook, tightening his grip as uncontrollable tension tightened all her muscles. She unclenched one hand from the innocent sofa cushion and thrust her fingers into his hair, feeling his head move against her palm as his mouth caressed her.
Hot and cold waves flowed under her skin as he kissed her, and in the moment before she broke, she opened her eyes and took it in, what he was giving her, how much her body and soul was connected to him at this moment. He held her as she climaxed, his strong hands spread against her soft flesh as everything within her cascaded with sensation.
As her tortured breathing calmed and her thudding heart slowed, Paul rose up and shifted her limp legs back against the sofa as he braced his hands on either side of her body. He took a seat next to her and rested his head against her shoulder as she weakly embraced him.
“I don’t know what…” She panted to a confused halt as echoing contractions twitched though her.
“Thank you, Emily,” he whispered against her skin, and tears sprang to her eyes. She sniffed and tightened her hold on him, overwhelmed by how well he’d pleased her. He kissed her cheeks and when she sought his mouth with hers, he gave her a slow caress that made her tighten her legs around his hips and tilt against him, her body seeking his without conscious thought.
“More.”
He gave her a low sound of amusement as he cupped her breasts and dragged his thumbs across her tight nipples again. Her belly clenched. “We should wait a bit, your body—”
“Needs more.”
Releasing his hold on her, Paul reached for the clothing scattered around them, finally lifting his trousers, the loosened belt jingling as he pulled a condom from the pocket. Emily could make out the squared shape of the package in the near dark and reached for it, her sex clenching as she anticipated how he’d feel sliding inside her body.
“You want to put it on again?”
“I love to touch you.” She was too aroused to wince at her use of that inflammatory, betraying word, and Paul didn’t seem to react to it as she tore at the metallic wrapper and felt along the latex ring to align it properly. His warm hands guided her and she bit back a triumphant cry as they rolled it into position.
Her quilt had slid off onto the floor during her earlier thrashing, Emily felt its soft texture under her knees as Paul reclined and guided her to straddle him. A band of light from the window slashed across her chest, illuminating her breasts and nipples, his lean hands clutching at her.
His breathing accelerated as she stroked her hands across his abdomen and lower, grasping him as she moved over him. Her body resisted long enough for them both to gasp out, then he was easing inside as she settled against him. His body was warm and she pressed herself to him, her breasts against his chest, and her cheek to his all as he filled her. Her heart swelled as he moaned in her ear, praising her as he flexed under her.
Slow and steady they worked with each other, Emily’s body tightening and heating as she rocked her hips in slow circles against him. He tensed and gasped under her, one of his hands tightly clenched into her hip, the other spread against her upper back. She sat back to suck in shallow breaths as the pressure increased. Paul’s hand slid to
where they were joined and his thumb pressed against her. That slight touch galvanized her nerves and she shook, one hand anchoring her to the sofa. She concentrated and flexed against him, determined to please him.
Paul tensed under her body, his head flung back as he groaned in sharp, primal bursts. Joy filled her as she felt his climax, glad she was coherent enough to appreciate it. She finally felt beautiful as she watched him shudder out the last of his release.
After she collapsed alongside his body, Paul withdrew and struggled with the blanket until it covered them both. He gasped against her neck and tightened his arm underneath her breasts.
“I guess you’ve figured out I like you.”
Emily chuckled, feeling warm and dizzy. “I wasn’t sure.”
He tugged at a lock of her hair. “You don’t wear this in pigtails for me to pull on.”
“Is that what you did in school when you had a crush?”
She felt him nod against her skin. “I wasn’t very good at flirting. I usually offered to help with homework when I liked someone. I started a math study group when I wanted to spend more time with Karen.”
Emily stilled at the mention of his late wife. She was glad he felt comfortable enough to mention her, but she didn’t want to say the wrong thing and deflect this intimacy. “So, she was your high school sweetheart?”
“Yes. All through college, even though she broke up with me when I went away freshman year. But we were back together by Christmas. There wasn’t anyone else.”
Ever? Emily’s mind reeled. She couldn’t imagine having so much faithfulness in her life. It seemed like all her relationships had fizzled before they’d even begun.
He must have sensed the tension that thrummed in her body because he stroked her shoulder and lowered his voice even further. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel awkward. I just wanted you to know that being with you is important to me.”