It’s been a long time since I’ve actually looked at her. Like really looked at her.
Ma puts her fork down next to her plate, and the silver clinks against the ceramic as her hand shakes. “Could you grab me a cup of milk, dear?” Ma sets her elbow on the table, resting her head in her hand.
This happened the other day, too. Eating’s been taking a lot out of her. I don’t know if the chemo is making her nauseated, if she’s just not sleeping enough, or if something else is going on.
Before I can move to the fridge, Emma’s already there. She grabs the milk quickly with a serious look on her face.
Setting the jug on the counter, she opens up one cabinet door and then the next and the next.
“Right here, Sweetheart.” I open up the cabinet door closest to my right and grab a large plastic cup, handing it over to Emma.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
She pours a cup of milk without looking at me.
“Ma, you sure you don’t want to go to your room?” I ask, my hand on her shoulder. “You could lie down. Or maybe the booth in the dining room nook?” I added a bench in there up against the wall, and near the window. She likes sitting in there to read and get some sun. She shouldn’t be sitting up here on the stool with how unsteady she is. I can just picture her falling off.
She puts her small hand on mine, and it’s cold. She pats my hand a few times and nods her head. “I think I should go back to bed. ”She swallows thickly, and the happiness that was in her eyes vanishes. “I just thought I heard a new voice in this empty house.”
“I can take you there if you want,” Emma says softly. “You have to show me where though.” Ma returns Emma’s hesitant smile. “I can get there myself. I’ll be alright. You just stay here and keep an eye on my boy.” Ma turns to me and gives me a wink. “He needs someone out here keeping him in line.”
Chapter 11
Emma
It’s crazy how fast things change.
Two weeks ago, I was caught up in studying for school and thinking about my internship, planning for my future. I had checklists and everything mapped out. All I had to do was stay on the straight and narrow.
Now all I can think about is Derek. I’m second-guessing everything. I want to somehow fit him into all my plans, but he doesn’t belong there.
It’s just like it was back in high school. I’m willing to move everything around for him. The two of us fit together so well. We’re meant to be; I can feel it. But the lives we lead don’t blend.
As the days count down until I go back to school, it’s getting harder and harder to ignore. It’s nearly impossible to pretend everything is just fine and fall into his bed without any worries. The tick-tock, tick-tock of the proverbial clock never shuts the fuck up anymore. I shake my head as I grab my textbooks and head downstairs to the kitchen, pushing the awful truth away. Why can’t life just be easy? Why are there these choices that make it so you can’t have everything? Even as I question it, I know I’m being ridiculous.
After the other night, there’s no way I can walk away from Derek again. But I don’t see how we’re going to make this work. Especially when we aren’t even talking about it. He’s not going to change, and I can’t be with him and turn a blind eye forever.
I set my books on the kitchen table, grab myself a glass of orange juice, and sit down, ready to study. I just need to focus. A sigh leaves me in a long exhale as I push the hair out of my face.
As I open my book and start reading, my thoughts drift back to Derek. I can’t stop thinking about all of the things he’s going through, and how hard his life is compared to mine. He’s only told me little bits and pieces. He never wants to talk about it. I get it. I do. But he needs someone. He has no one, and that’s by choice. I don’t understand how he doesn’t see that. He has me, at least. I can see through his bullshit. But he’s never going to be okay if he keeps it all bottled up.
My chest feels so tight and painful as I think about everything he’s dealing with on his own. Watching his mom slowly being taken away by cancer. Tears prick my eyes, and I take in a heavy breath. I check my phone, merely looking for a distraction, even though I know I don’t have any new messages.
It’s been two days since I’ve seen him, but we’ve been texting back and forth. I miss him, which is a dangerous thing.
I stretch my arms and shake out all this tension before I get back to the task at hand and start reading. Focus, Emma.
I have to blink my eyes several times as the black words fade into the white pages. I read the words, but I can’t remember a single fucking sentence. As I read the same paragraph over for the third time, I hear a knock on the door.
I instantly push the chair back, thankful for something to do other than this mindless shit, but Sandra calls down, “I’ll get it!” as she’s running down the steps. I grit my teeth and push my chair back in, putting my elbow on the table and resting my chin in my hand. I know I shouldn’t. I break out on my chin sometimes from stress, and the oils from my hand doesn’t help, but fuck it. I don’t care.
As Sandra opens the door, I listen carefully, part of me hoping it's Derek.
“Hey baby,” Tony says softly. Every time he greets her there’s this softness in his voice that he only has for her. I must be emotional today, because just thinking about that makes those damn tears threaten to fall again.
"Hey!" Sandra says back happily. She doesn’t understand how good she has it.
My hopes fall, and I try to concentrate on studying again. I’ll see Derek and we’ll talk about things soon. We need to, and both of us know that.
"Hi, Sandra." I instantly perk up at the sound of Derek’s voice. It's him! My first instinct is to run to him like a freaking child. Calm down, Emma. You don't want to scare him off. You’re an adult.
"Hey, Derek. Em's in the kitchen studying," Sandra answers.
"Ready to go?" Tony asks Sandra. Go? My heart speeds up, knowing we’re going to have the house to ourselves. I'm not sure if these nerves are from knowing I'm falling for him all over again, or if it's because I'm already turned on just thinking about what we could do when we're all alone. It’s weird having sex at his place with his mom there. It’s only happened twice, but each time when it’s over and I remember she’s in the house I get this weird feeling like we just did something wrong. I wish I could drop it and just go with the flow, but I absolutely can't. It feels disrespectful in some sense. So instead we’ve been naughty in the car on the way back to his place or here. Just like old times.
"Em, I'll be home later! Love you!" Sandra yells down the hall on her way out of the house. "Bye, Derek. See you later," she says a little quieter.
“Love you!” I yell back. My response is followed by the sound of the door closing, and Derek’s heavy footsteps in the hallway.
I get up to meet him and quickly smooth my hair before he enters the kitchen, butterflies in my stomach and my heart racing.
“Hi," Derek says with a smile as he enters the room. That smile. It brightens my world. I can't get enough of it. It’s a crime that he doesn’t smile all the time.
"Hi,” I greet as I stand on my tiptoes, planting a kiss on his lips as he wraps his arms around my waist. ‘’What are you doing here?" I ask, rocking on my feet.
He shrugs, looking past me for a moment and then back at me. "I have some time off, and I just wanted to hang out. Like we used to," he says as I wrap my arms around his neck. He leans in and kisses my neck. It’s that sensitive place that somehow seems connected to both my nipples and clit. I'm already primed for him.
He walks us over to the chair I was sitting in before he got here, sits easily and pulls me onto his lap.
"You're on break, so take a break with me," he says as he closes my book.
I look into his eyes. We need to talk about what's happening here. I lick my lips as my blood pressure climbs, and suck it up. I’m a grown ass woman. We aren’t two teens in puppy love. We’re adults, and we need to talk.
<
br /> "I'm scared, Derek," I say honestly. I think back to my lectures. State what you’re feeling. Then explain why you’re feeling it, and how you wish for it to be resolved. It’s as simple as that.
"Of what, Sweetheart?" he says as he strokes my cheek. His eyes shine with sincerity, and a wrinkle forms right down the center of his forehead. It’s always there when he’s concerned. I trace it with my fingertip, wishing we didn’t have to have this conversation. I shift in his lap, knowing it’s for the best. Even if this isn’t going to work, it’s better that we get it out of the way now.
I close my eyes and clear my throat. "Of this, of us," I answer him.
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "Don't think about it. Just go with it, Sweetheart." He kisses my neck again before I can respond, and I want to just go along with it. But I need to know what he's thinking, what we're doing here. I can’t just keep brushing this under the rug.
"You know I'm going back soon. In three weeks," I say, pulling away to look him in the eye. A part of me thinks this is all just temporary for him anyway. As soon as I leave, he'll have someone else. It's a small part though. If I really believed it, it would make ending this so much easier. If I thought I could just be replaced so easily by him. But I don’t think that. Maybe I’m naive, but I don’t want to believe it.
His hands pause on my waist, his fingers gripping me a little tighter. "Yeah," he says suspiciously, that wrinkle returning.
"And then what?" I ask. That’s really where my problem lies. I need to know.
"Well, it's only one semester, right?" he responds.
"Yeah." What is he thinking? I can feel that damn wrinkle on his forehead form on mine. My heart seems to beat so loud that I can’t hear anything else. I wish it would shut up. I need to hear what he’s saying.
"That won't be long. Just a few months, and we can handle that," he says hopefully.
"I just don't want to start something, and then you go and fuck around-" the words come out so fast. I can’t help it. It’s what’s in my head, and I need him to tell me it’s going to be alright.
He grabs my face with both hands, forcing me to look at him. "I have never fucked around on you. I never will. I'm not interested in anyone else," he says, cutting me off. My breathing comes in faster.
"What is this between us?" I ask him. I stand up, pushing off his lap and getting out of his hold to put some space between us.
"I told you I want you." His voice is sincere as he grabs my hand, as if he needs to touch me to get through this.
"For now?"
He stands up and wraps his arms around my waist; I don’t deny him. "For however long we have." I hate that answer. I need something more than that, something concrete. But the way he says it reminds me of what he's going through. I have to close my eyes and try to focus on our conversation, but I can’t.
"Don't think about it, sweetheart. Just kiss me." His voice lowers as he pulls me closer to him.
I wish he would just say the words I’m thinking. I love you. It would make this so much easier. But that would be too good to be true. And I’m stupid for thinking it. For however long we have.
It’s so easy to do as he says. To just stop thinking. The way he presses his lips to mine makes me want to forget about everything and just be his for the moment and I take them greedily, needing to just get lost in his touch.
Just this moment.
His hot tongue slips against the seams of my lips and part for him, opening and letting him inside my mouth. His tongue strokes strong and heavily against mine possessively. His kiss is taking from me with everything he has. It’s a hot dark dance of our mingled breath.
As his hands roam my body, I realize that I’m enabling him. I’m allowing him to have me without any type of resolution. I’m weak because of him. I’m weak for him.
His fingers trail along my waist, tickling my skin and making me writhe under his touch. Such a soft touch. He’s always gentle at first; that’s how he gets me. He shows me the side of him that no one else can see.
It’s a side I’m addicted to.
“Lie to me, sweetheart,” Derek says as he pulls back, his eyes closed and his hot breath coming in quicker.
He lifts me up by the waist, walking the length of the small kitchen and setting me down on the counter. He kisses my neck gently as I register his words.
His lips barely press against the sensitive area just under my ear. That spot. He must know exactly what it does to me.
“Lie to you?” I ask. I’m surprised I can even talk, my heart’s beating so fast and I feel like I can hardly even think.
His deft fingers unbutton my jeans, and I let him. I don’t tell him no.
I can’t. I want this just as much as he does, even if we haven’t resolved a damn thing. He did say he’d never cheat on me. But how long is he mine to claim? And more importantly, when is he going to stop dealing? When is he going to straighten up his life?
I shake my head at the thought as he slips my jeans off my hips. He lifts my ass up off the counter and I have to lean against him, my arms wrapped around his shoulders. The denim slides down my thighs and he lowers himself while he pulls them off, kissing my collarbone, down between my breasts, down to my hips. He stops at my thighs, tugging the jeans down my legs.
They fall to the floor, making the only sound that fills the silence in the room besides our heavy breathing. “Lie to me and tell me I was your first,” he says softly with his eyes on my pussy as he pushes my legs further apart.
He gently nips my thigh, his hands at the back of my knees as he gently kisses my leg, up to my hot pussy. He brushes his nose against my panties, and my cheeks flame with embarrassment. His hands move to my hips, holding me in place as he bites through the lace and gently nips my clit. Fuck! The heated sensation vibrates through my body.
My hands slide into his hair as I cry out, “Derek!” It’s a sensation I’ve never felt before, a sharp pain followed by the sweet bliss of pleasure. I want it again. I want more; my clit throbs for more.
“Do it, Sweetheart,” he says as he looks up at me with a hunger in his eyes I’ve never seen. He stares deep into my eyes as his thumbs tear through the lace of my panties, shredding them, making me bare to him. Holy fuck. “Tell me I was your first, I need to hear it.”
He pulls my ass to the edge of the counter and lines his dick up; my legs wrap around his waist, my arms wrap around his shoulders. He kisses my throat and my head falls back as he gently pushes into me. I’m still sore. He’s had me every day since he took me at his house.
“I can’t,” I say, shaking my head. We're already denying so much of the truth, but I won’t lie to him. “I’ll never lie to you, Derek.”
He fills me so slowly, so sweetly, but with an aching stretch that burns slightly from his thick girth.
Derek’s arms wrap around my back and one hand grips the nape of my neck as he thrusts harder into me. It’s a punishing fuck, like he’s angry I won’t lie to him. I scream out loudly, not caring about anything. Just needing him to hear what he does to me.
“Lie to me, sweetheart,” he groans through his clenched teeth as he continues to thrust harder and harder, pushing me higher and higher toward the peak I’m desperately seeking.
He forcefully pumps his hips over and over as his jeans fall to the floor around his ankles. He fucks me with primal need; my body heats, and my skin tingles with the sensation of desire. I need more. I whimper an incoherent response as I cling to him.
His rough pubic hair brushes against my clit with each stroke, making the intense feeling that much stronger. I feel so unsteady. Extreme pleasure stirs in the pit of my stomach and radiates outward. My toes seem to go numb as my fingers grip onto him, my nails digging through his thin t-shirt and into his shoulders. I bury my head in the crook of his neck as he continues the punishing fuck.
“Did he fuck you like this?” Derek asks, moving away from me slightly, but still buried deep in my heat, gripping my throat with his h
and, forcing me to stare back at him. His blue eyes pierce into me.
“No,” I say and shake my head, or at least I try to. I can barely function, paralyzed by the pleasure he’s giving me.
“No one will ever fuck you like I can,” he says in a low voice, and the intensity in his gaze is nearly too much. He reaches down with his other hand still squeezing my throat and pinches my clit again. My ass slams against the granite countertop, and the force of his thrusts are so strong that the dishes in the sink rattle. His fingers tighten around my throat although they don’t constrict my breathing.
“Remember that, Emma,” he says breathily. “I can give you this. I can give you what no one else can.”
I grip onto him harder, the wetness between my thighs growing hotter. The sound of him pounding into me only makes him fuck me faster and harder as my arousal makes it easier for him. My heels dig into his ass as I hold onto him for dear life. The sensation numbs my body, heating it with a pleasure that threatens to consume me.
“I wish it had been you,” I moan into the hot air between us tears pricking my eyes.
With the feeling of him taking from me so ruthlessly, savagely, devouring me with his hard merciless thrusts, I’m already so vulnerable. I’m already so weak and at his mercy. But I do wish it’d been him.
He’s so rough with me I can hardly stand upright at the mixed sensations of pain and pleasure. He leans down, pushing my tank top and bra out of the way and sucks my nipple into his mouth, his teeth bite down and he pulls back. It hurts, but it’s what sends me over. I spiral into a black abyss of paralyzing pleasure.
“It’s my fault for letting you go.” I barely hear Derek’s whisper as he pushes himself inside me all the way to the hilt. I can barely stand the sensation as my head is thrown back, and a scream is ripped from my throat. He rubs my clit ruthlessly as my orgasm slowly radiates through my body, as if deliberately torturing me slowly with a pleasure so intense I can’t fight it.
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