Another shot of pride hits me. Damn.
“Oh. Well, everyone has to start somewhere.”
Emma’s fingers close around the star charm on her gold necklace. She remains quiet, but her gaze never falters.
“Where did you get your necklace?” Elise asks, pointing at the charm squeezed tightly between Emma’s fingers. “It’s… sweet. Not what I would’ve chosen for a black tie affair, but to each his own, I suppose,” Elise finishes, twirling her hand that is extravagantly adorned with several diamonds between the ring on her finger and the bracelet on her wrist.
“It was my mother’s,” Emma declares proudly, and I want to kiss her.
The urge to pull her into my arms and push her against the wall, devouring her lips with mine, not giving a damn who’s watching, is overwhelming.
Elise opens her mouth for what I’m sure is another bitchy remark, but I grab Emma’s coat, thrusting it at her before turning towards Elise. “Good night,” I state firmly.
Taking my umbrella from the valet, I cover Emma’s head as we walk the few feet to where the valet left the car and I open her door, ushering her inside. My head begins an annoying thud as I struggle against the unwanted urges Emma elicits, tugging at my heart and swelling another part of me into a throbbing shaft of unfulfilled need.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you work in a restaurant that you own?” Emma asks, her voice soft, free of accusation, when I slip behind the driver’s wheel.
“I’m a private person, Emma. I don’t like people knowing anything about my personal life,” I reply coldly, making me feel like the bastard I am.
“People,” she whispers, pain lacing her words. “Sorry, I guess I was under the impression that I didn’t fall into such a general category with you any longer. I thought we were becoming friends.”
Friends? Doesn’t she realize that I want so much more than that? And that want of mine that intensifies every time I see her is exactly why I need to end this. Now. I’m sorry that I’m about to hurt her. I am, which prompts me to do it quickly. Staring at the road, trying to navigate the next turn in the pouring rain, I keep my gaze straight ahead, hating myself as I tell her, “I needed a logo for Dur Acier. You did an excellent job designing one, that’s all. I’m sure I’ll see you around sometime at the Dark Hole because you’re friends with Jess, but, no, we’re not friends. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.”
An ache radiates through my heart when Emma’s gaze falls. A few torturous seconds pass as I wait for her reaction.
“Stop the car,” she states so quietly, I’m not sure I heard her correctly.
“What?”
“Stop the car! I’ll take a cab home.”
Turning towards her, I’m surprised by the anger in her voice. I expected her to be a little huffy, shed a couple of tears maybe, but not angry. “I picked you up, I will take you home, Emma.”
“I said to stop the car!”
I’ve never heard her so mad before. I find it amusing, and a little heart wrenching, at how sexy she looks with her lips pressed tightly together and her arms folded defiantly across her chest. “It will take forever for you to get a cab here, and, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s pouring rain and freezing.”
“I don’t care,” she replies flippantly.
“I’m not leaving you on the middle of the street, Emma,” I tell her, my voice rising at her stubbornness.
Slowing the car at a red light, I turn to tell her that I will get her home as quickly as possible, but Emma throws open her door and jumps onto the street, in the pouring rain.
“Are you kidding me?” I yell after her.
Her response is slamming my door, loudly.
Throwing the car into park, I get out, yelling, “Get back into the car right now, Emma!”
“No!”
“Dammit, Emma, I’m not playing with you, get your ass in the car!”
Emma doesn’t reply, she just quickens her pace as I stare after her in disbelief. A car honks its horn behind me as I realize the light has turned green. Shit.
Throwing the car into drive, I follow slowly beside her, ignoring the blaring horns. “Get in the car,” I coax, trying to get her out of the cold rain.
Completely ignoring me, Emma crosses her arms tighter around her chest, continuing to look straight ahead as she maintains her steadfast pace.
Gritting my teeth, I pull closer to her, “I said get your stubborn ass in the car!”
Finally acknowledging my presence again, she gives me a lethal glare, “NO!”
Horns honk behind me as I follow behind Emma, looking like a complete fool.
“That’s it,” I yell, slamming on the brake and shoving the car into park, “if you want to be a brat, I’ll treat you like a brat.” Stepping out of the car, I grind my jaw at the freezing temperature of the pouring rain pelting down mercilessly as I catch up to her, ignoring the honking horns and people on the sidewalks watching us like we are insane, “Get in the car right now, or I’ll tan your behind!”
The blaring indignation in her eyes at my empty threat makes me want to laugh, but I keep my face stern.
Taking a menacing step towards me, she juts her chin out, “The hell you will!”
“Your father shouldn’t have spared the rod so much with you,” I continue to torture her, loving every second that her beautiful cheeks flame scarlet despite the cold winter air. “You’d think by him being a preacher and all, he’d know that.”
Balling her fists into tight knots, I can tell that she’s having to force herself not to hit me, “Who in the hell do you think you are?”
“Two cuss words in less than a minute, he’d be so disappointed in you.” It’s obvious that her thinning restraint is about to snap, so I grab her arm, pulling her towards the vehicle, “Get in now, or everyone on the street is going to see your beautiful ass.”
Her mouth gapes open at my crude audacity as she tries to pull away from me, stopping only when my grip tightens, and I go to pull up her dress.
“Stop! I’ll go!” She yells, grabbing her dress and smoothing it down. The flush on her cheeks is flaming as she reluctantly gets back into the car.
Sighing at how the Italian leather seats are now soaked, Emma smirks, seemingly pleased at that fact.
“What the hell were you thinking to get out of the car at night, in the pouring rain, when there’s not a cab in sight?”
Silence greets me.
Giving a discreet sideways glance, I find her shivering uncontrollably, but I’m not so sure that it’s entirely from the cold. It’s clear that my threat infuriated her. Turning the heat up a notch, I drive as Emma sits in silence, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her back straight and rigid as she refuses to look my way.
“So, you’re not going to speak to me now?” I goad, “that’s perfectly fine with me.” Starting to hum, I bite back a grin at her defiance. I knew she was strong by her moving to Boston by herself, especially coming from a small town like hers and knowing no one before she arrived, but her tenacity impresses me.
When I take a street leading away from where she lives, she bites her lip, in obvious conflict of whether or not to break her silent spell and speak, or continue to give me the silent treatment.
“Where are you taking me?” she finally asks, her voice dripping with undiluted contempt.
“My place. Well, the place my grandfather bought for the manager of his company, so, technically it’s mine, but only for the time being since I’ve not agreed to take the position permanently, which is why it’s not where I usually reside.”
Emma spins to look at me so fast I can’t keep from chuckling. “Your place? Why are we going there?”
“My place is closer, and from the looks of you, hypothermia might already be settling in,” I tease, “your lips are blue, and you’re so damn stiff, it looks like I could break you in half.”
Lengthening her spine further, she turns away from me, still shivering.
Cranking the hea
t higher, I glance at her, feeling a twinge of guilt, but not enough to stop playing. Continuing to hum, I entertainingly watch her state of agitation ignite to new levels.
“You are not seriously sitting over there humming “Sister Christian” right now?”
Repressing the strong urge to burst out laughing, I shrug, “Seems fitting.”
Emma huffs, crossing her arms tighter around her drenched body and turning towards her window. Knowing she can’t see me, I grin as I continue to hum the Night Ranger’s tune.
No more words are said until I pull up to the imposing gates. Pressing in the security code, I take the winding drive to the house. The look in her eyes when she sees the 5000 square foot home next to the Olympic size pool greatly amuses me. “You’re not in Kansas anymore, huh?” A hearty laugh erupts as I look at her, “Auntie Em, ha! I just thought of that.”
“So not funny, and I’m not from Kansas, jackass,” she mumbles, wiping the astonished look from her face.
“Three,” I state calmly, but edge the words with a stern tone.
“Three, what?” she hisses.
“Three cuss words which means three strikes, want to keep racking them up?”
Emma shifts slightly in her seat. It was a small motion, just enough to show that she’s nervous.
Trying to sneak a glimpse into her eyes, she catches me and turns away, but not before I see how they are tinted with uncertainty. Feeling a twinge of guilt, I ease up on her, calming my tone, “C’mon, let’s get you inside and dry.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she proclaims, her surliness thrust full force while her resolve burns cobalt blue as she stares at me defiantly.
Feeling stupid for my premature empathy, I decide a little uncertainty never hurt anyone. Unbuckling her seatbelt, I haul her on top of my lap before opening the door and firmly, but gently, take her arm as I lead her inside.
“Let go of me,” she seethes, jerking her arm away once we are inside the door.
Stepping so close to her, I can feel the warmth of her sweet breath against his neck, pushing me further over the edge into those damning emotions I want no part of…except the anger. I’ll take the anger. Glaring at her, my tone is harsh, “You are the most impossible, stubborn brat I’ve ever met in my life.”
“I’m not a brat, stop calling me that!”
“You’ve been nothing but a brat since I met you. You must’ve been a piece of work growing up. You might have Jess fooled, but you’re not fooling me.”
“Have you ever considered that maybe it’s you? I have no issues with anyone else. You’re the one who is completely self-centered, so wrapped up in your own little world filled with mindless bimbos falling at your feet to do whatever it is you ask of them that you can’t fathom when someone doesn’t automatically undo their bra and spread their legs when you walk into the room. Just because I find you and your preferences offensive, not to mention, disgusting, doesn’t mean I’m a brat!” she yells, her finger coming closer to my face with every word.
“You know nothing about me, or my preferences, so you can close your mouth and spare me your over-righteous attitude and judgment that I don’t give a shit about!” I yell back.
“I can imagine what your preferences are, you don’t exactly try to hide them! And, as far as judgment, it’s been you who has been self-righteous, not me! You’ve done nothing but judge me because of my father, my upbringing, without even trying to get to know me! I’ve had enough of your flippant, smartass, ignorant comments, so you can be the one to keep your mouth shut!”
Holding up four fingers, I take a step even closer. “Your father may have spoiled you and let that smart mouth slide, but you won’t get by with it with me. I love Jess, but I’m done with this; I’ve reached my limit with you,” I growl, pushing her finger away from my face. “The next word to come out of your mouth better be the one I want to hear.”
“I swear if you are even thinking about suggesting for me to pick a safe word, I’m going to slap the hell out of you right here!” she snarls, practically spitting fire.
Safe word? I bite back the laugh that is rumbling up my throat at her wrong, but very interesting twist of what I actually meant, but I decide to roll with it, “That’s five, and you’ve seem to have forgotten something. There’s no way you could possibly stand even a remote chance against me, sweetheart. I’d have you over my knee and at my complete mercy in less than two seconds.”
Her eyes bore into me, darker than I’ve ever seen. Anger is evident, but so is fear. Cursing myself for pushing it too far, I realize that I’m scaring her and that she had no idea that I didn’t mean it when I threatened to bare her ass and punish her in front of a street full of strangers, I can only imagine what more she thinks I will do to her in a private setting. Damn, this has gotten out of hand.
I watch her standing in front of me with those radiant eyes defying me through her fear. Swearing under my breath, I can’t believe I didn’t see it earlier; she’s not just afraid, she’s really scared. I don’t blame her. Why wouldn’t she think me capable of physically harming her when all I’ve done is belittle her, treat her like shit, and humiliate her? I have to fix this.
Her breaths come out in tiny, shallow puffs as she stands stubbornly in front of me, still trembling. I now know that only part of her shivering is from the cold and the rest is from how she’s scared that I’m going to strike her in some way. Taking a slow step towards her, she stands her ground, jutting her chin a little higher. Her bottom lip trembles, although I can tell she’s trying very hard to keep it steady. I admire the hell out of her for that.
The clean, peachy, intoxicating scent of her damp skin permeates the air. The swelling in my soaking wet pants becomes uncomfortably tighter as I watch the water drip from her drenched hair and roll down her long, slender neck to the exposed area just above her chest that I’m dying to touch. Raising my hand to brush a wet, chestnut tendril from her face, she flinches slightly. That action slays me, searing deep into my soul.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I whisper, hating how harshly I have treated her.
“That’s not what you said earlier,” she spits out, the words brave, but her eyes losing some of their fiery spark.
“I only said that to get you out of the rain before you froze to death. I was just kidding, and I didn’t want to get wet. I’m sorry if I frightened you.” I am sorry. More sorry then I’ve been in a long time.
Emma’s shoulders lose a fraction of tension as they ease lower.
Carefully studying her, I see the fear fading, but only a little. “Besides, I threatened to spank you, not beat you.”
Emma takes an unsteady step backwards, reacting to another misunderstanding of my intentions.
Damn! I soften my gaze, needing her to understand that I won’t hurt her, that I would never hurt her. “Look, I like giving a few sensual, playful smacks on the ass like the next guy, but I’m the type of man to deliver pleasure, not inflict pain.”
The thought of her leaning over my lap, her breasts pressed against the outside of my thigh, and her naked ass positioned perfectly for my touch while the soft skin of her lower abdomen warms the part of me that needs to be buried deep inside of her, leaves me throbbing excruciatingly. Gently grabbing a wet lock of her hair, I slowly slide it through my fingers, my eyes locked on hers, which only engulfs me further into a blazing desire.
Giving her a reassuring smile, I feel like a bastard for scaring her, “You have my word that I will never hurt you. Rest assured, your physical well being is perfectly safe with me. Your virginity, now that’s a different story.”
Slowly, the fear begins to fade from her eyes as I rub her arms in my hands, trying to get her warm.
“Sorry,” I whisper.
“You already said that,” she responds, her voice much calmer.
“No. I mean, that’s the word I was looking for from you earlier,” I wink. “How does a small town, preacher’s daughter know about safe words anyway?”
I ask, laughing, “especially one that’s a virgin.”
“I’m from a small town, not a different planet,” Emma blushes, “we did have television, and I do know how to read?”
“What exactly have you been reading, Ms. Jones?”
Her blush deepens, and so does my throbbing. Looking at her standing in front of me, dripping wet, embarrassed, and vulnerable, the truth hits me square in the gut, taking my breath away. There is no way in hell I’m going to be able to forget about this woman. Taking her home will do nothing to rid her presence from my mind. She’s already imprinted on my soul. This one is going to be a handful, and I’m ready to take whatever she will give.
“You need to get out of your wet clothes,” I tell her, stripping her from her drenched wool coat.
The fear in Emma’s eyes returns, but it’s different this time.
“I told you, you’re safe with me,” I whisper, tilting her chin with my finger so she’s forced to look at me.
“I know you won’t hurt me,” she breathes, and I realize that she’s not afraid of me; she’s afraid of what she feels for me.
She’s not the only one. I’m terrified.
“I’m sorry I ruined the clothes Dur Acier bought.” Her eyes fill with regret as she glances at the soaked clothing.
“It’s your dress, Emma. You earned it, and, no worries, they will dry clean just fine.”
Her tongue runs nervously across her lips, “If you want to change, then take me home, I’m fine until I get there.”
“You’re freezing. You’ll take a shower here.” Taking her hand, I lead her into the bedroom, feeling how she hesitates at the door before continuing to follow me. How she doesn’t seem to trust herself around me both excites and humbles me. Opening the closet, I take a towel from the shelf, “I’ll find something for you to wear home while you’re showering.”
“If I fit into your clothing, then I am going to start ordering only salads,” she teases.
“You’re beautiful, Emma. Perfect.” Pulling my eyes away from her, I turn on the bathroom light, “Nothing I have will fit you, but I’m sure I can find something that will work well enough to keep you warm until you’re in your own clothing.”
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