Bourne to Love Emma
By MacKenzie K. Paxton
Bourne to Love Emma
Text copyright © 2015 MacKenzie K. Paxton
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and other elements portrayed herein are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons or events is coincidental.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher with the exception of the use of brief quotations in a book review.
To my husband, children, neighbors and friends for their support in this crazy endeavor and for encouraging me to ‘just finish it!’
Alex, Heather, Christine, Sasha – here’s to you!
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Prologue
Mia was finally asleep. Emma carefully lowered her into her crib, holding her breath and saying a prayer that she would stay that way long enough for her to take a shower and crawl into her own bed. She breathed a silent sigh of relief as she slid her hands out from under the sleeping bundle and finally crept from the room. Emma had been sick for a week and 9 month old Mia hadn’t slept more than 2 hours at a time in longer than she could remember.
Shower, then sleep, she thought. Food wasn’t even a priority – she could eat at some point when she was up with Mia later that night. Exhaustion was her biggest issue.
“We need to talk.”
Mia turned toward the living room and slowly walked toward the couch. Her husband, Dan, was watching MMA fighting on the big screen television. As she walked in, he switched the TV off and leaned forward in his seat, resting his forearms on his thighs.
“I’m filing for divorce,” he stated calmly.
Emma just stared at him. Her sleep-deprived brain was struggling to keep up with what was going on around her. As she was trying to find the words to say, her eyes strayed to the entrance hall and noticed two suitcases that hadn’t been there earlier.
“What?” was all she managed to get out.
“Look, we both knew that getting married was more about my job than anything else, but I never signed up for a kid. I thought it might work as long as you did all the heavy lifting in that area, but it really just isn’t what I expected. I mean, damn, how am I supposed to work when she fuckin’ cries ALL. THE. TIME.?”
Emma was completely dumbfounded. She and Dan hadn’t been intimate since she found out she was pregnant with Mia, but she thought he was just afraid to hurt the baby – and then maybe he wasn’t attracted to her body right afterward…. He was always traveling for work and she had been so busy with the baby and her own job that this all felt like it was coming out of left field.
“More about your job? What does that even mean? And Mia is supposed to cry - she’s a BABY! I don’t understand what’s going on…. Did something happen at the office?” Emma leaned back on the couch and rubbed a hand over her face. Any minute, surely she would wake up and realize this was just some horrible dream caused by the virus she’d been fighting for a week.
“Well, you’re the one who wanted her, so you figure it out. I told you that you should have just had the damn abortion and we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
Emma gasped in shock.
He continued, “Ever since you fucking found out you were pregnant, you’ve made everything about you and the damn baby. You couldn’t drink at my company parties, you complained about my aftershave making you sick, you didn’t want to have sex, you didn’t even suck my dick because your ‘gag reflex was too sensitive’ – which I still say is bullshit. Every single reason I fucking asked you to marry me is gone. I mean, I can fuck someone else, that’s not a big deal, I’ve been there and done that, obviously – but I can’t really show up in front of my boss with another chick for work functions when he already knows you. It’s all just bullshit.”
Emma was so overwhelmed. “I had morning sickness, Dan. I was sick all the time! And what the hell do you mean you’ve been sleeping with someone else???”
“Jesus, Emma. You are so fucking naïve! What did you think was going to happen when you cut me off for over a year? Did you really think I was going to go from fucking you twice a day to nothing?”
Emma’s jaw dropped as she stared at the man she had been married to for almost five years. Sure, they had probably spent more time apart than together this past year with him traveling and her finishing school, having Mia and taking care of her while working from home. Even though she had seen him angry before, it was rarely directed at her. That was probably because she always did what he wanted. Her life had revolved around his…until Mia.
There it was.
That was exactly what he was saying. He married her to have someone always make him the priority. His job, his parties, his sexual needs. How the hell she never saw that was beyond her at this point. The real question was how she had let herself be used like that for so long.
Emma stood up and said, “Go ahead and take your suitcases and leave. We don’t need someone who doesn’t want us. We deserve more than that. Especially Mia.”
Dan sneered at her, his eyes narrowed and mean, “you don’t deserve shit. If it wasn’t for me, you would still be waiting tables and trying to figure out how to pay for night school. Well, you’re on your own now. You’re still hot or I’d have left before, but I can get that without the kid. Better brush up on your cock sucking skills – you sure as shit haven’t been using those since before you had the damn baby – that’s the only way you’re gonna find someone else to take care of you now that you’ve got a kid they have to deal with, too.”
Dan laughed at her again and turned to get his suitcases. He looked back as he pulled the front door open and delivered his last insult: “take a good look around, Em. I’m not paying for you to stay here without me, so you better start packing your shit and find something you can afford. And, if you think you’re going to rope me into paying for your kid, remember all those attorneys my company keeps on retainer to deal with shit like that. You’ll go bankrupt before you ever see a dime. Good luck.” With that, he slammed the door behind him.
Emma had been frozen in place while he spewed his hateful message, but the slamming of the door led straight to the screaming of an infant. Mia was awake again.
Emma dragged herself back to the nursery, lifted the baby out of her bed and dropped into the rocking chair that had belonged to her grandmother. Once she got Mia situated and she was happily nursing away, Emma finally let herself cry.
“What are we gonna do, baby? What are we gonna do?”
Chapter 1
~Emma~
One year later…
“I need more wine for this,” I said as I grabbed the bottle to top off my glass.
Heather grabbed the bottle before I could take the last of it. She’s a sneaky one, Heather.
“I’m just saying – being a single mom doesn’t me
an you have to live like your life is over, you know? There are a ton of guys out there who would totally volunteer to end your drought. Have you looked in a mirror lately? You’re beautiful and smart and funny and successful. Hell, if you got me drunk enough, I’d hit that….”
It took a few minutes for the hysterical laughter to die down. I fanned my face, feeling the flush that was equal parts alcohol and complete mortification at my lack of a sex life being the topic of conversation…again. I had to wipe my eyes before responding. “As much as I appreciate that thought – because you’re pretty hot yourself – I don’t want to bring some strange man into Mia’s life. She’s always going to come first in my life and, if that means I don’t get to have sex until she’s out of the house, well…that’s just going to have to be okay.”
Heather just stared at me. “It’s been, what, over two years, right? And you’re sitting here saying you’re going to willingly wait another SEVENTEEN YEARS before you have sex again? Seriously?” She looked at me in complete disbelief. “How can you even think like that? Don’t you miss it? I mean, I know I have a minor obsession with John’s cock, but how can you think about NOT fucking SOMEONE for THAT long???”
“Shhhhh! This night is over if we wake up Mia!” I laughed as Heather pretended to zip her lips and throw away the key. “Well, I don’t think anyone would fault you for being a little obsessed with John’s…body. He’s beautiful and I’ve obviously heard plenty about how well he uses his… parts.”
Heather laughed out loud and immediately clapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. “Say it, Em. SAY. IT!”
“What?!?”
“Say COCK!”
“I… why is this a big deal?” I covered my cheeks with my hands to try to cool them down. This was something that happened fairly often with Heather – she was always trying to loosen me up and get me to try new things, be more adventurous. Lately, that had primarily consisted of getting me back out into the “dating pool” so I could prove to myself and, obviously, to Heather that I am over my divorce and my total jerk of an ex-husband.
I’ve known Heather for years. She was the bartender at a restaurant where I was waiting tables before I met Dan. She never liked Dan, but she actually held her tongue (mostly) when we got engaged and then married. Dan never liked her, either, and told me that she was a ‘bad influence’ on more than a few occasions. In hindsight, Heather was a much better influence than Dan. Yes, she’s bold as brass and says whatever she’s thinking, but I think most people could do with a little more of that in their lives.
Surprisingly enough, Heather had finally found a man who could keep up with her – in and out of the bedroom – and none of us were more surprised than Heather. My friend told me long ago that she figured she’d never get married or have kids. She never dated a guy longer than a couple of weeks and she always claimed to ‘like variety too much to settle for one flavor the rest of my life.’ I’ve heard enough about John – too much actually – to know that he loves Heather more than anything and Heather trusts him enough to allow herself to love him back. That says a lot.
Heather leaned forward and grabbed my hands – both of us now holding my face, squishing my cheeks. “Say it… or I’ll start handing out your phone number when I get hit on at the bar.”
“I don’t believe you.” Because, really. We’re friends. She really wouldn’t do that to me….
“I’ll post a profile on that booty call app and use your picture!”
“Oh my gosh, Heather! Fine!” I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. “Cock.”
“See, that wasn’t so difficult, was it? It’s a word they love to hear you say – you should practice: ‘ooooh, I love your big, hard cock.’”
I slapped her hands away from my face and grabbed my wine glass from the table. “I’m not going to be saying that to ANYONE – hooker.” I gulped the rest of my wine. I’m done with the two glasses I allow myself to have when Mia is with me. Bummer.
Heather laughed at me and asked again, “You’re seriously going to live like a nun, though? That would never work for me.”
“Actually…. It’s not easy….” I took a deep breath and blurted “Iorderedavibratorthisweek.”
“What?”
I fiddled with my wine glass, desperately wishing I hadn’t gulped it down so fast so I could do so now…. I looked at the wall behind Heather’s shoulder and repeated myself. “I ordered a vibrator this week.”
Heather’s smile slowly melted off her face as she set her wine glass down to focus all of her attention right back on me. Why the hell did I even mention this? Oh yeah. Because… wine.
“Is this …. Why are you embarrassed telling me this? OH MY GOD, is this your first one, Em?”
At my very small nod, Heather just stared at me. “You’ve never owned a vibrator before? But, you’re THIRTY. I mean, Dan was out of town a LOT and you were only married for a few years and it’s been over two years since you had sex with him. I just always assumed you were… taking care of things on your own….”
My entire body has turned beet red at this point, but I tried to soldier on since I know there is no way in hell she is going to let it drop. “Heather – it’s not like I don’t know how to…you know. I’ve had fingers my whole life, obviously. But, lately, I miss…other parts of it.”
“You know that vibrator isn’t going to be the same as a real, live cock, right? It will help if that’s what you’re missing, but nothing substitutes for the real thing.” Heather did the most awkward eyebrow waggle as she sat there discussing cocks. I laughed. She is such a dirty whore, but she’s my best friend.
“Maybe I’ll find someone I can trust to be around Mia – but not now. I’m not ready for that…but I do miss sex. A lot.” A. Whole. Lot. Like, really.
Heather raised her now empty glass in a toast and clinked it against my own.
“To sex. Hot, sweaty, amazing sex…in all its forms.”
“Here here.”
~Emma~
After a grueling week of overtime hours, I forced myself to work out Friday night when Mia went to bed. I had just finished a circuit training DVD and was chugging my water when there was a knock at the door. When I looked through the peep hole, I didn’t recognize the tall man standing on the other side.
“Who is it?” I asked through the door.
“My name is Jason. I live in the apartment next door. I have a package for you that was delivered to my place by mistake....”
“Oh. Okay.” Huh.
As I put my hand on the top lock to turn it, I looked down at myself for a moment and consider not opening the door. I was still in my sweaty yoga pants and tank top – both of them are more than a little damp and I do not ‘glisten’ when I work out. I sweat. Oh well. Neighbors are probably going to see me a whole lot worse when Mia and I get sick at the same time and I don’t have time to shower for a week.
I unlatched the locks and opened the door… and was nearly struck dumb by the man standing on the other side. Tall, broad, muscular and tan, he was everything that starred in my nightly fantasies from the neck down. His thigh muscles pressed against his slacks, his pecs proved his chest was firm – probably lickable. I bet he doesn’t even stop at a six pack. What comes after that? Eight? Ten? How high can it go?
When I finally glanced up to meet his eyes, he was smiling a little too hard at me. Busted. I could feel heat creep up my neck and across my cheeks.
His dark hair was cut close to his head and his eyes were the gray of a stormy summer sky. And he was laughing at me. Because I was standing here practically drooling over him. Awesome.
He stuck out his right hand and said, “Jason Davies. Apartment 6B.”
I looked at his hand for a second before raising my own to take it. “Emma Parsons. 6C…. Uh. Obviously you already knew that…” I stammered. I felt myself turning even more red as he continued to hold my hand and smile. I am seriously stunted in social development sometimes.
“So…you have a pa
ckage for me?” I saw his eyebrow quirk before he released my hand. A package…. I couldn’t help glancing down to the front of his khaki slacks in response to the thought to check out his own personal package before mentally slapping myself and jerking my eyes back to his. I have issues, apparently.
He handed me a box that had obviously already been opened. The tape had been cut and not replaced and the four sides had been crisscrossed over one another to hold it shut. I just looked at him. He didn’t just get my package, he opened it. RUDE.
He looked a little embarrassed and explained, “I do a lot of…computer work from home, so I’m always getting shipments of parts. I didn’t even look at the name until I opened it and realized it was…. Uh. It wasn’t something I had ordered.” He looked away from me and seemed slightly uncomfortable suddenly. It’s really not a big deal, but it’s kind of cute that he feels guilty for accidentally opening my mail.
The timer in my kitchen went off, letting me know the muffins I made for this weekend are done. Both of us just stood there while it beeped.
“Ooookay…” I said, finally snapping out of it. “Well. Thank you for bringing it by. It was nice to meet you.” I started backing into my apartment with the box in my hands, memorizing how his shirt clung to his broad shoulders and his slacks low on his hips even with a belt. He really was amazingly built.
“It was definitely my pleasure,” he returned with a knowing smirk. Weird. Of course, I would probably smirk if some dude was checking me out like I did him. Duh.
He was still standing there when I closed the door and locked it. I peeked out the peep hole to see him run a hand over his head before walking back down the hall. He was gorgeous! He had acted a little strange at the end, but I could forgive that. Acting strange is one of my favorite past times, obviously. I sighed and walked to the kitchen to shut off the timer and take the muffins out of the oven. While they were cooling, I started to clean up the dishes.
Bourne to Love Emma (RED-Stone Operatives Book 1) Page 1