by Early, Mora
Emma sighed in the dark. It was a forlorn sound and made Josh want to reach out and touch her, but he remembered her words and fisted his hand on his hip.
“You’re never going to trust me, are you?” Her words were so quiet he almost didn’t catch them.
“Emma...” Josh threw himself onto his back again, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Before all of this craziness happened – the watch and this thing with Ransler – I thought I was getting to know you. But you were playing me from the beginning. I may understand why you did it, but I can’t forget that everything you said was just a lie to get to the watch. How am I supposed to trust you? I don’t even know you!”
She plucked at the comforter. “You know me just as well now as you did then. Better, even.”
Josh rolled his head to the side, quirking a brow at her even though he knew she couldn’t see it. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Not even a little.”
“I’ve lost count of all the different versions of you I’ve met! Shy but focused party planner Emma who commands her team with a... what’s the saying? An iron fist in a velvet glove?” He held his hand above his face and ticked a finger. “Brash and sexy Madame Butterfly who lures men in with bawdy promises and then robs them?” Another finger. “Then there’s the Emma who insisted a puppy couldn’t go without a name and pulled me out into the pouring rain laughing. That girl wasn’t timid. She looked me in the eye and fished for information to see if I’d caught onto her crime.”
“Josh...”
“Let’s see,” he continued, voice still low and hushed. “Emma the attentive fiancé, can’t forget her. She stood up to William Ransler and Lolly Tate for me. Hell, you almost had me believing you really love me.” He heard Emma suck in a breath, but he couldn’t stop. The words were all there now, crowding on his tongue as if they’d been just waiting for this moment to get out. “You say I know you? Which you?”
“There’s only me, Josh. You’ve only ever met me. Maybe I don’t fit into a neat little box, like you apparently wish I did, but that doesn’t make me a liar. In fact...” She rolled toward him now, and he could feel her eyes on him in the dark. “I’ve never lied to you.”
Josh shook his head swiftly, a snort bursting out of his chest. “How can you even say that with a straight face?”
“How can you accuse me of lying? Name one thing I’ve ever said to you that was untrue.”
“You’re splitting hairs. You hid your identity.”
He swore he could hear the quirked brow in her voice. “It was a masquerade ball, Josh. I didn’t do anything the rest of your guests weren’t doing. You knew Madame Butterfly wasn’t my name.”
Josh opened his mouth, but couldn’t think of a suitable argument for that. He moved on to another point. “You pretended you were going to sleep with me when you admitted yourself you never had any intention of doing so.” He cringed inwardly. Not really the greatest tactic. He wished he hadn’t spoken. Emma replied softly.
“I never promised you anything.”
She hadn’t. And he knew she desired him, so she hadn’t lied about that, at least. Josh supposed he’d be more angry about that particular aspect if he believed that the only reason she’d come on to him was to get to the watch. But he didn’t. Emma was attracted to him. Watch or no watch, they would have most likely ended up in bed together somehow, some way. It had been inevitable.
But there was still one more thing.
“You told me I wouldn’t mind,” Josh murmured into the dark.
His eyes had finally adjusted enough to see her face. He thought he saw Emma frown. “What?”
“The night of the ball, when you sent me for the champagne. I told you not to move. And you said ‘I’m going to move, but I promise, you won’t mind.’ I minded a hell of a lot, Emma, for several different reasons.”
She was silent, staring at him. Josh stared back. Long minutes ticked by and neither of them spoke.
Maybe, Josh thought, maybe they were both in the wrong. He was willing to concede that perhaps Emma had not been constantly deceiving him. But she had to admit that she had deceived him sometimes.
“You’re right,” she said softly, as if answering his thoughts. She reached across the expanse of comforter and touched his wrist lightly. “I’m sorry. I am, Josh.” She sighed. “If I promised that nothing I say to you from here on out will be a lie, unless we’re in public and it’s required, will you believe me?”
Josh studied her shadowed form. Could he? He wanted to, despite everything. He liked Emma. They worked well together. They did everything well together, truthfully. If they called a truce, wouldn’t it make this whole fake marriage thing a lot easier?
Well, apart from her no sex rule. But maybe... No, he’d better not even go there. Still, perhaps they could be... friends?
“I can try.”
Emma released a slow breath, her shoulders relaxing. “Good. Thank you.” She rolled onto her back. Josh stayed where he was, head propped on his hand. He waited another minute to see if she was going to fall immediately to sleep. When her breathing was still light and even, he smiled.
“So... now that you’re starting this new honesty policy...”
“Yes?”
“Will you tell me about the radio station?”
***
The laughter surprised Emma, bubbling up from her stomach, vibrating in her throat. She’d been hellishly tense as she and Josh talked in the dark, finally addressing things that had obviously been festering between them. They’d never really discussed the night of the ball or the Madame Butterfly thing. But now that they had, at least to some extent, she felt... relieved. As if it had been a pocket of infection, their initial angry words had pierced it and the subsequent argument had drained it.
She relaxed back against the soft mattress, her muscles full of the pleased, heavy exhaustion that follows a strenuous day, but her blood fizzing with happiness at the dissipated tension between her and Josh. She felt so good that she actually answered him. Or maybe it was because it was dark, and he wouldn’t be able to see her face.
“It’s really embarrassing.” She turned her head, gazing into his shadowed face. “It involved a guy. Are you sure you want to hear this?” She really hoped he’d say ‘no’. Even though they were just pretending to be a couple, he could hardly want to hear about her exes, right?
“I’m sure.”
Emma smoothed the covers over her stomach. “Fine. So, I was dating this guy... Tim. He was from Texas. Not the brightest tool in the shed, but attractive. Honestly, our entire relationship was based on his Southern drawl. And the cowboy hat. Anyway, long story short I caught Tim cheating. I called him a lot of not nice names. He had a lot of very rude things to say about... er... my sexual performance.”
“What?”
Emma was rather gratified to hear the shock in Josh’s voice at that. Not that she was about to admit it. She barreled on with the story, heat stinging her cheeks. Thank god for darkness.
“He was only the second guy I’d ever been with. Some of his criticisms were no doubt valid. At the time, however, I was not disposed to be magnanimous about it.” She’d only been 19 and mortified that he’d found her lacking. Part of her had wondered if he was right and if a bit of the blame for his cheating lay at her feet. The self-doubt had made her even angrier.
Josh chuckled. “No, I imagine you weren’t.”
“So, after a lengthy and loud public argument about just whose fault our lousy sex life was, I decided to prove an, equally public, point. I was friends with one of the guys who ran the campus radio station, so I’d been there a few times. I stormed in and Terry, my friend, must have seen something of what I was planning on my face, because he just handed me his headphones and got out of the way.” Emma smiled, remembering her college friend’s twinkling blue eyes as he’d slipped out of the sound booth and closed the door behind him, after pointing out the lock on the inside.
Beside her, Josh shifted. �
�Where did you get a recording of an orgasm?”
Heat crept up Emma’s neck and down into her belly. “I preempted KALX’s punk rock block to announce that Tim Schenkman didn’t know the first thing about how to turn a woman on, and that I’d faked every orgasm I’d ‘had’ for the entire 8 months of our relationship. And then I said, ‘For future reference, Tim, this is what an orgasm really sounds like’ and then... well...” She shrugged, staring up at the ceiling.
“Wait. Are you saying... it wasn’t a recording?” His voice was an awed hush.
“Well, I let the dean think it was. But... no, it wasn’t a recording. I rather went to town. And it got quite a response on campus.”
“I’m sure!”
Emma’s flush grew deeper, her belly trembling with remembered heat. A good deal of it was embarrassment that she’d done that – pleasured herself for all those people to hear. But she’d be lying if she said it was all embarrassment. She’d been fired up about Tim, angry and wanting very badly to prove to him that she wasn’t the ‘boring lay’ he’d called her.
“People, mostly guys but some women too, swarmed the station and began pounding on the doors. Terry had thought to lock the exterior ones when he realized what was going on, thank goodness. There was some damage to the front doors and some of the surrounding quad, benches knocked over, garbage cans tossed. Campus police showed up and I was hauled to the dean’s office. Luckily, Professor Burling came to my defense and convinced him it was some sort of social experiment, or I would most likely have been expelled.”
Josh gave a low whistle. “How did Ben not find out about this when he did your background check?”
“The hearing was sealed, and the college made sure the recordings from the station were edited. I’d never given my name on the broadcast, only Tim’s. Apparently, Tim did quite a bit of cheating so there was a lot of speculation as to which one of us was behind it. Other girls took credit; even ones who’d never dated him. Aside from faculty, me, and Terry... and now you... I don’t know that there’s anyone else that even knows for sure it was me.”
“Wow. Wait... what about Todd?”
Emma snorted. “Not exactly the kind of story you tell your kid brother, Josh.”
He laughed softly in reply. “Yeah, I guess not. I just thought you guys told each other everything.”
She thought of her brother’s quiet words on the patio before the wedding. Carla Fiorentino. “No, we don’t tell each other everything,” she said softly.
They were both quiet for a moment, and then she heard Josh shift suddenly next to her. She heard the silken shift of skin on skin as he reached for her, felt the warmth mere inches from her cheek. But he stilled. Wary, she realized, because of her earlier threat.
Slowly, staring into the darkness where he lay, Emma pressed her cheek into his hand. His palm was hot and smooth against her skin. His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth. His voice was a low rasp.
“Thank you for telling me, Emma.”
It was just a stupid, embarrassing college story. Yet, he made it sound as if she’d given him a gift. Maybe, in his eyes, she had. She’d told him something about herself, something real. She heard no trace of doubt in his voice, either. He believed her. A stone she hadn’t known was resting on her chest suddenly rolled off.
“No problem.” Her lips curved upward. Josh’s thumb brushed over the lower one gently, sending tingling golden sparks through her veins. She should tell him to stop, pull away. This was dangerous. They lay only inches apart – when had they moved closer? – on his big bed. It would be the smallest expenditure of energy just to roll toward him, touch that smooth, broad chest and toy with the crinkled blond hair there.
Josh’s thumb kept stroking. No other part of him moved, just that broad thumb, caressing her bottom lip. Then the top one. Then pressing into the seam between them. Emma’s breath caught in her throat and she parted her lips to suck in air.
She gasped as he slid the first inch of his thumb into her mouth, wetting the tip, and then retreating to drag the damp digit over her lips again. The second time he slipped his finger between her parted lips, Emma closed her eyes and flicked her tongue against it.
Josh groaned. The sound sent an instant lance of desire straight into the pit of her belly. He rubbed the rough pad of his thumb against her tongue and the edge of her teeth. “Christ, Emma.”
His voice was ragged as she sucked gently at his finger, nipping the end lightly. Josh hissed.
She needed to stop this. Now.
Emma just couldn’t remember why. And then she felt the bed shift as Josh slid closer, leaned over her, and slanted his mouth over hers. He withdrew his finger, replaced it with his tongue, and Emma could barely remember her own name.
Chapter 5 ~ The Night Before, The Morning After
Josh wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. Their fight had become a civil discussion, and then an intimate conversation, and now Emma’s tongue was twining with his and her fingers were tangled in his hair, pulling him down to her mouth.
Not that he was trying to get away.
He didn’t try to do anything but kiss her, despite his body’s instant and ferocious reaction to touching Emma again. His dick had snapped to attention so fast it was a wonder he hadn’t sprained something. Trapped in the confines of both his boxers and the damn sleep pants, his cock throbbed and swelled, painfully hard.
“Oh god,” Emma whimpered brokenly. Her breathy voice was exquisite to his ears, but there was a note of distress there too, he thought.
Josh stilled, raising his head, staring down into eyes that looked black in the darkness. Her fingers clutched tightly at his hair.
“Emma, love, do you want me to stop?”
She bit her lower lip, plump and damp with his kisses. The sight nearly made him forget what he’d been saying, that he intended to let her dictate what happened here. He wanted to press his mouth to hers again, to taste the dark sweetness of her, but he held on to his last shred of self-control as she scrutinized his face. Or perhaps she was examining her own inner landscape. It was difficult to read her expression in the dimness.
“No,” she said finally. It was the sweetest word Josh had ever heard. “No, I don’t want you to stop, Josh.”
With a groan, he lowered his head again, sweeping his tongue into her mouth. He slid his hand down to cup her jaw, thumb stroking her chin, opening her wider for him. He sucked at her tongue, nipped her lips, and brushed her open mouth gently with his. He spent what felt like a good half an hour or more doing nothing but making love to her mouth with his own.
He caressed her cheek and hair, traced the curve of her ear, stroked her neck and the bare curve of her shoulder. He spread his palm flat over her collarbone, resting his thumb in the small dip at the base of her throat, feeling her heart thrum against his finger.
Josh dragged his mouth from hers to pepper kisses along her jaw and scrape his teeth over her throat. Emma threw her head back, pulling him into the crease of her shoulder. He licked her skin, tasting salt and spice and Emma.
His hand hovered over her breast. Josh could feel the heat radiating from her skin, beckoning his touch. He raised his head, met her eyes, and asked again. “What about now? Do you want me to stop now?”
Emma slipped one hand from his hair, her eyes intent on his face, and covered his hand with her own. She pressed it downward, arching up into the touch, gasping, nostrils flaring. “Don’t stop until I say.”
Josh smiled, his thumb brushing over the hard peak of her nipple through the soft cotton. “Yes, ma’am.”
He covered her mouth again, tugging the thin strap down off her shoulder to bare her breast to his caress. He kneaded the firm mound gently, plucking the stiff crest until Emma cried out into his mouth. He swallowed the sob, satisfaction building a fire in his chest with each new whimper and gasp he drew from her.
Josh tossed back the covers and pulled her against his body, lowering his head to the smooth, rosy skin of her breast.
He took it in his mouth, reveling in her writhing, clutching response. She held him to her chest as he nibbled and suckled her tender flesh. He brushed back and forth over her rigid nipple with his tongue, softly, enjoying the heat and texture of her skin.
“Josh!” She stroked his hair and back, grasping his hips, trying to bring him closer, bring him over her. But Josh didn’t want to rush. As turned on as he was, and he was incredibly turned on – his cock was a steel bar in his pants and his heart was apparently trying to gallop faster than a 4-minute mile – he wanted to savor every moment of this.
Reluctantly, he released her nipple from between his lips and lifted off of her. Her tiny mewl of disappointment was gratifying, at least. “Take off your top, Emma.”