Hurt, he had lambasted her with what he’d thought had been the truth. That she didn’t take enough risks in her life, had played it safe for too long. And safe wasn’t exciting enough for him anymore.
Shoving that lousy memory aside, he hoisted them up onto the bed. As he moved them toward the middle, she clung tight to his neck and waist, bringing him deeper inside her. His erection throbbed. She clenched her inner muscles. He groaned. More of her tightness, and he wouldn’t last much longer.
He lowered her onto the covers. “Babe, you’ve got to loosen your hold on me.”
She let go, and he pulled out of her.
“The cast. . . ”
“Is nothing.” He ran the tip of his finger across the dark arch of her brow and cupped the side of her face. Her eyes partially closed, and her lips parted. He clamped his mouth over hers. She tasted of a sweetness he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind.
Their tongues touched, and he sucked on hers. She moaned and shoved her fingers into his hair. The reverberations of her moan inside his mouth and the tug of her fingers had him dribbling from the tip of his erection.
He broke off the kiss. “I’m not going to use my fingers.” He trailed his mouth over her neck and lower until his face was smashed between her breasts. Her tits were much bigger and the areolas darker than the last time they’d had sex.
He sucked on her nipple, and she nearly came off the bed as she arched her back and dug her nails into his shoulders. As he grazed his teeth on the sensitive, tight ball, he pinched and rolled her other nipple between his fingers. Relaxing into the bed, she shook her head from side to side. Her legs gripped his waist, and she ground her hips against him, a sign she was close to coming.
He let go of her nipples, and she loosened her legs from around him. He went low, leaving kisses over her slight bump. When he was near her scent and her wetness, she let her thighs fall to the sides. He tongued then suckled her swollen nub.
She groaned, a quiet sound full of satisfaction, before she came in his mouth followed by a fierce shaking of her body. Inhaling her musky scent, he buried his head in her softness and lapped up her come.
After he got his fill of her flavor, he moved up until their eyes met. Lifting her hips, Drew pushed into her. She drew in a breath. He released his. God, he’d dreamt of this moment, had actually woken up with his hand wrapped around his morning erection.
Her gaze unwavering from his, she raised her legs and set them on his shoulders. Emma wanted him to go deep. He’d willingly oblige her. He leaned into her, and grabbing her hips, he fucked her. One, two, three deep thrusts. The bed moved, and her tits bounced. The pressure built from his toes to his head. Unable to hold back any longer, he roared his climax. He kept coming and coming, his body shaking from the force of being without her for so long.
She lowered her legs, clamped them around his waist, and with her arms tight around his neck, she clung to him. Warmth settled over his chest. Contentment, happiness. In her arms, he found home.
They lay plastered to one another for what seemed like minutes. Afraid he’d slip out of her soon and make a wet mess on the bed, he grabbed the nearest thing he could find—his spare T-shirt.
“Let me do it.” She took the shirt from his hand and cleaned them off.
After she was done, he pulled down the covers and patted the side next to him. She glanced from the bed to the door as though unsure whether to spend the night with him or not.
Faking a nonchalance he didn’t feel after the intimacy of what they’d shared, he ignored the casts and hooked his arms behind his head. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
She slipped under the covers. He lowered his arms, turned, and anchored her body to his. Exhausted, he fell asleep with a thought that chapped his hide. If Emma needed love with her sex, why had she given her virginity to a guy she’d claimed not to have loved?
Chapter Twelve
Last night, after Drew had fallen asleep, Emma had snuck out of bed for the cell phone in her jacket pocket. She’d slipped the phone under her pillow, and at six-thirty this morning, the phone’s vibration had woken her.
Careful not to make any sudden moves that could disturb Drew’s sleep, she had snuck out of the bedroom and into the bathroom to clean up before she ate leftovers from last night at the small kitchen table.
Then she’d left Drew’s place for her meeting with Chris. She hurried down the dirt path and avoided looking up at the dented targets. Around a curve, she veered off the path and trekked through the field that would take her to the cemetery. A few minutes later, she arrived at the cemetery’s border. She walked through to get to her place. The tulips from her father’s gravesite snagged her attention. Why’d you leave the chain and key where I’d find it?
When she returned to Drew’s place, she’d ask him. Last night, before they’d made love, she saw understanding clear on his face. He hadn’t invested himself fully into their relationship, and that realization had hurt him. She didn’t like when Drew hurt. But truth had no concept of emotional consequences. And maybe it wasn’t just Drew that hadn’t been completely committed to growing their relationship as they’d changed over the years.
Her mind made up about the morning ride, she hurried to the truck parked next to her place. From here, she had an unobstructed view of Chris in his truck, scarfing down what looked like a muffin stuffed with eggs and sausage. Her stomach grumbled. Seriously, she was hungry again?
He saw her and waved. As she got closer, he wiped his hands and his mouth with a napkin then got out of the truck. “Hey, you.”
“Hey back,” she said.
He stared at her with keen perception. Trying not to squirm, she kicked at the dirt and avoided his eyes, looking at his mouth instead.
Bad idea. A cheesy grin spread across his handsome, angular face. “You got yourself some action, didn’t you?”
The corners of her lips twitched. “I don’t know what you mean.” She clasped her hands behind her back and rocked onto her heels.
He came over and placed his warm hands on her shoulders, halting her movements. His eyes searched her face. They twinkled while her face burned.
“You got laid.”
“Hush.” She stepped out of his hold. “Someone’s gonna hear you.”
He looked around and shrugged. “There’s only the dead.” With the cheesy grin back on his face, he opened his arms wide. “Get over here, love. You deserve a big Chris Andrews hug.”
Unable to resist his charm and his smile, she jumped into his arms. Laughter bubbled out of her, and he clasped her tighter to him as though her happiness could take away his pain. Eve wasn’t her BFF. Chris was and had been since college. After a year, he’d dropped out to concentrate on training and racing full time.
Racing. Perfect guy.
“Set me down. I have something to ask you.”
He gave her another squeeze before doing as she’d asked. “Shoot.”
“I promised Chance a superstar for the gala. You are a superstar.”
“I ride freestyle motocross, Em. I’m not the one who just won the Super Bowl.”
She grabbed onto the edges of his jacket. “What you do in those shows is utterly awesome and totally dangerous. There’s fireworks and . . . ” She shook her head in awe at the memory of one of his shows. “And those aerial moves. Chance went to a show last year, remember? I introduced you to him and his parents backstage?”
He grasped her hands and kissed the tops of her knuckles. “I do. I’d love to help but I can’t.” He let go of her hands. “Going on a date with a woman . . . I’d feel like an imposter, Em. Like I had with you after we’d done it, ya know?” His attention swung to the ground before his dark eyes bore into hers. “Does that make sense?”
Proud at how far he’d come since that night, yet saddened by his current dilemma, she encircled her arms around his waist and settled her forehead on his chest. “I completely understand.”
His body relaxed against
hers while his sigh seemed loud in the silence. “Thank you.” He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Shall we ride?”
She let go of him and stepped back. “I want to, but after Drew . . .” She took a deep breath. “I want it to be him that I ride with from now on. Does that make sense?” she asked, volleying his question back at him. She wanted to feel alive and reckless with only Drew.
Chris nodded, a slow firm move that showed he completely understood. He opened his mouth to say something, but his attention shifted to whatever was behind her.
“Uh-oh. We’re in deep shit.”
At the ominous tone in his words, Emma spun around. Drew headed their direction with his fists clenched at his sides and a fierce glare on his face. Dammit, deep shit was an understatement. She’d never seen him this angry even after he’d broken his wrists.
“Who the hell are you?” he bellowed.
Or seen him this jealous.
He pointed a stiff finger at Chris. She uttered a curse under her breath. The men were the same height and build. If a major smack down was going to happen, there could be serious injuries. Please behave like men and not boys fighting over a toy.
Chris extended his hand to Drew. “Chris Andrews, Emma’s friend from college.”
From college. She resisted the impulse to cover her flaming face with her hands. God, this was awkward. Her secret guy BFF and her secret boyfriend occupying the same space and breathing the same air choked with smothering testosterone.
Surprising her, Drew grasped Chris’ hand and shook. “Nice to meet you, man.”
The air cleared, and she inhaled a deep breath. Wow. He’d spoken the words with a lightness that again caught her off guard. Without knowing what she and Chris were to one another, Drew had accepted Chris in Emma’s life.
Seeming to understand something had shifted in her relationship with Drew, Chris let go of Drew’s hand and stepped back. An unknown emotion, one she’d wanted so badly to identify when it came to her hurting and confused BFF, crossed his face then disappeared just as suddenly. He smiled. “I should get going and let you two have time together. Time is precious when you love someone unconditionally, isn’t it?”
He turned and headed for his truck. Chris walked tall as though he’d come to a very important decision. She’d come to her own important conclusion too. After witnessing how Drew had handled himself around who he must realize was Emma’s perfect guy, she trusted him to give him the truth. But only with Chris’ consent.
“Wait, Chris.” She hurried after him.
He waited for her by his truck.
“You can say no if you want, and I wouldn’t hate you or be mad at you—”
He silenced her outpouring of words with a warm hand to her face. His brown eyes shone with a brightness that had tears welling in her own. “It’s okay, Em. I’d be honored if you told him my . . . our secret.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Before he ended the innocent kiss, his tears dampened her cheeks. “I think it’s time you tell him why you gave your virginity to me and not him. And you can’t give him one reason without the other, right?”
“Right.”
After he dried his tears off her face with the heels of his palms, he got into his truck and drove away, leaving her alone with Drew. He came up from behind and started to massage her shoulders.
“Let’s head home, Em. You need to lie down, baby doll.”
His moods confused her. In the beginning, he seemed pissed. Now he came off concerned. Shouldn’t he be giving her the third degree after witnessing Chris kissing her? She unraveled herself from his hold and faced him.
Throughout their relationship, she’d kept unsafe topics out of their conversations, thinking they’d do more harm than good. Yet not talking about the unsafe stuff, the important stuff, the stuff that had mattered the most had done just that—more harm than good.
She’d stick to her word and lay her heart out in the open. She traced a path from his stubborn chin down to the notch of his neck. The lock to her heart would’ve hung slightly below the hollow.
“Earlier you were mad. Why?” She figured he was angry after seeing her with Chris.
“I woke up and you weren’t there.” His voice shook. “I searched the house and the woods. You. Weren’t. There.”
His truth left her breathless. His anger wasn’t from seeing her with another guy. Drew had been scared for her safety.
“I’m sorry, Drew.” She reached up and cradled his face in her hand. “I should’ve told you.”
He turned into her touch seeming to need her comfort. However . . .
“Would you have let me go if you knew it was to see a guy?”
Uncertainty marred his handsome face. Seconds ticked by. With a tenderness in his eyes that nearly brought her to her knees, he covered her hand with his and said, “Yes, Em, I would have.” His certainty broke her heart.
Chris could’ve been her new love interest and Drew’s rival for Emma’s heart. Instead of treating him unkindly, Drew had accepted Chris and respected her and Chris’ friendship.
It is what it is. Words Drew had uttered when he’d come to a conclusion that he couldn’t change something.
He took her hand in his, and they started walking back to his place. The tulips on her father’s grave taunted her, begging her to ask her question.
“Why’d you leave the chain and key where I’d find it?”
His steps faltered then he continued at a faster pace, as though his hesitation hadn’t happened at all. With her hand firmly in his, she hurried to catch up with his long strides.
“Why isn’t your lock near your heart?” he asked, in a quiet, brooding manner.
His question was fair. She swept her hand over her throat. They’d made love last night, and she’d been naked, sans necklace. He waited for her answer, giving her a fleeting sidelong glance before he stared forward again.
If the granite mask over his face was meant to shield his hurt from her, he was too late. Emma had heard his pain in his words.
“The key and heart are safe, Drew.” She reassured him. “Answer my question.”
He clamped his jaw.
She whispered her plea. “Whatever you have to say to me, I won’t judge.”
He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back. Toss safe out the window, love, she had wanted to tell him. But he had to decide to take that next step himself. There’d be no more reassurances from her. Yes, talking about the unsafe stuff sucked.
“After I got to Willowbrook, I stopped by to see you,” he finally said. “I wanted to apologize for being a jerk, for being so crass. But after I saw you with him . . .” He blew out a breath. “The key to your heart means everything to me, Em. If I could, I’d take back what I did.”
“Aw, Drew.”
It took guts for him to admit he’d been jealous and hurt. She grasped his hand and tugged him back, toward the cemetery. “Let’s go say hi to my dad.”
“I’d love to, baby doll.” He released her hand and, grasping her waist, lifted her and claimed her mouth with his. Sighing, she opened up to him. Talking about the hard stuff wasn’t so bad after all.
Chapter Thirteen
They stood in front of her father’s grave. Tulips covered the granite marker. Recalling the story of how Emma’s dad had proposed to her mom, Drew smiled and pulled her back against him. She pressed her tiny body into him, resting her head on his chest.
He’d told her the truth earlier. About his fear, his hurt, his jealousy. Afterward, a weight lifted. It’d felt good and right to bare his soul to her rather than come off as the tough guy who would reassure her that things were okay when everything in their relationship hadn’t been fine.
“Drew, there’s something I have to tell you.” She faced him. “You know the guy I lost my virginity to, the one from college, the guy you don’t know?” She fidgeted with the buttons of his jacket.
He stopped her nervous movements with a hand over hers. “Go on.” He gently encouraged.
Finally, she opened up to him, and no way would he miss the importance of her words with the stats in his head or by thinking of the places he needed to be, or of his lines for endorsement commercials. With Emma, football would have to be placed on the back burner.
Drew wanted new experiences, new places, new . . . anything but only with Emma and their baby by his side. And he had a gut feeling he’d be getting that and more. In less than twenty-four hours, he understood so much about Emma—his girl, his love. The credit went to her. When she had dropped her guard, she let him in. That’s where he’d always wanted to be, closer to the beats of her heart.
“Chris was the guy.”
Her soft words pulled him out of his thoughts.
“We met in math class and hit it off right away. I knew instantly we’d be best friends.” She looked at him through thick, smoky lashes. Recognizing that he was more curious than jealous, she continued. “I also knew he was confused about his . . . his sexuality.”
She shivered. He tugged the edges of her jacket together and zipped it up. She rewarded him with a crooked smile. Adorable. He kissed the tip of her nose.
“So you and he slept together to ease his confusion?” he offered. At the thought of Chris easing himself into Emma, Drew . . . Drew pushed down the jealousy threatening to undo Emma’s trust in him. “But you said you hadn’t loved him.”
“I do love him but not in the same way I love you. A different kind of love. The love for a friend. Does that make sense?” She explained, barely taking a breath between her words.
“Perfectly.” Chris might bat for the other team, but his sexuality didn’t explain why he and Emma looked ready to swap spit inside Chris’ truck. “What happened between you two the night I saw you in his truck.”
She wrapped her arms tight around his waist and looked up. Tears glistened in her eyes. She hurt for a guy she loved like a friend. “His partner broke up with him. Said Chris wasn’t accepting of his own sexuality so how could he fully love another man? It broke Chris’ heart. I understood his hurt but couldn’t give him advice. How could I when I was also an imposter?”
What If (Willowbrook Book 2) Page 6