Sweet Little Nothing

by Farlow, LK

  I use my grip on her hair to gently leverage her into the exact position I want her in. Her taste is heaven, like she was made specifically for me, and I can't help but wonder if she'd taste this amazing if I were to kiss her somewhere else, somewhere much more intimate.

  Emmalyn smooths her hands over my chest, gripping the material of my shirt as she loses herself to our kiss.

  I'm already as hard as the stone wall at my back when she presses in closer to me and rocks her hips against mine, a soft moan slipping past her lips. That sound, that singular breathless whimper, nearly has me ready to strip her down and claim her here and now.

  Luckily, the sound of voices trickles our way on the breeze, reminding me we're in public. We're both breathless as I pull away, ending our kiss with a few small pecks.

  "Thank you for this, Sterling."

  "For what?"

  "For this date, for being so gentle, so sweet."

  Fuck. This woman. Her capacity to forgive is beyond me. If I were her, I wouldn't give my sorry ass the time of day, but here she is thanking me. I don't deserve her, not in the least, but I'm damn sure not letting her go.

  "We're just getting started, baby."

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Emmy

  "I can't believe you set all of this up for me. It's been the best first date ever."

  He grins. "I don't think you have much to compare it to."

  His words, while blunt aren't meant to be mean. "You're right, I don't. But I stand by what I said. I can't imagine anything that would've been better than this."

  "We're not done yet," he says. "We still have one more thing to do."

  I stare at him in disbelief. What more could there possibly be? "Seriously? We did the incline railway, an amazing dinner at 1885, and now ice cream. I can't think of a single thing that would make tonight better than it already is."

  "I need you to trust me, little mouse. Trust that I know what I'm doing and that I know how to make you happy."

  "I do," I murmur, dropping my gaze to my lap.

  Sterling reaches across the table and skims his index finger beneath my jaw, tilting my face back up to his. "Don't do that. Don't hide from me. I want to know how you feel and what you're thinking. I want us to be transparent with each other, Emmalyn. We started with so much dishonesty and distrust that I think it's the only way we can be successful."

  His words give me pause. There's such earnest truth behind them that I know he means what he's saying. "Okay, Sterling. I trust you, and I'll do my best not to hide from you."

  "Good. Now let's go."

  "Where?"

  He stands and chucks our empty bowls and spoons into the trash. "Trust, remember?"

  I roll my eyes, but follow him back to the car all the same.

  Fifteen minutes later, we pull up outside of what appears to be a rundown warehouse. I shoot Sterling an apprehensive glance. "Are you sure we’re in the right place?"

  Looking at me from the side of his eyes, he smirks. "Remember that talk we had about trusting me? It wasn't that long ago."

  "I do trust you, smartass. But come on, this place looks shady."

  He rolls his eyes, but there's a smile on his face, so I know he's not put out by my skepticism. "You're right, it does look a little sketchy. Weren't you taught not to judge a book by its cover?"

  "Sterling Abbot, this place is not a book! It's a seedy building." I throw my arms in the air, motioning toward our surroundings. "This is the kind of place people get kidnapped or mugged!"

  "I promise you're not going to be kidnapped or mugged. In fact, if you come inside with me, this will be a step to ensure none of these things happen to you, or at the very least you'll be able to handle yourself if they do."

  His words are just ominous enough to be intriguing, or maybe they're just intriguing enough to be ominous. I'm not sure, but either way I find myself nodding and getting out of the car.

  He guides me toward a garage-style door that's rolled up just enough for people to walk under. To say I'm not prepared for what we find inside is an understatement. This definitely isn't a seedy warehouse, but a state-of-the-art gym.

  The space is unlike any gym I've ever set foot in before. The back wall is made up entirely of mirrors, giving patrons a clear view of the entire space. Punching bags, ropes, heavy mats, and more fill the space. There are even a few fighting cages.

  Off to the right there's a desk, and I’m shocked to see Abigail sitting behind it. "Hey, you two. Welcome to Full Contact."

  "Hey, I didn't know you worked here."

  "I don't, not really. It's my brother's gym, and his receptionist called out." She grins. "So, what can I help you with?"

  Good question, Abigail. Why are we here?

  Sterling steps slightly in front of me. "I want to sign her up for self-defense classes."

  A warm feeling moves through me at his declaration. My heart is basically a pile of goo in my chest. The fact that he cares enough about me to make sure I'm able to protect myself is almost unfathomable.

  "Really?" I ask, emotion clogging my throat.

  "Really, baby."

  "Thank you." I throw myself into his arms, forcing him to hug me.

  "It's as much for me as it is for you. I want to know you'll be able to take care of yourself when I'm not around."

  His words cause something inside of me to break a little, but in the best possible way. This man is nothing like what I thought he was. In fact, he may very well be everything I never knew I needed; he's damn sure everything I've ever wanted.

  Somehow, he's morphed from my own personal nightmare into a dream come true.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Sterling

  "So, you're cool with me bringing you here?" I ask, feeling particularly nervous. I can't even pinpoint why I'm so on edge over her liking this, but I am. "You're not upset or anything?"

  "Sterling, how could I ever be upset at you for wanting to protect me?"

  "True, true." I shoot a cocky smirk her way. "I do what I can."

  She laughs, and the sound sends zips of molten energy through me.

  "I mean, really, you owe me."

  I groan at her teasing, even if there's a thread of truth to it. "Are you ever going to stop bringing up what an awful shit I was to you?"

  She grins. "Probably not."

  "Fair enough. Now, let's get you signed up."

  Once the paperwork is complete, she turns to me with a timid smile. "Seriously though, thank you for an absolutely amazing night. I know I keep repeating myself, but I truly couldn't have asked for anything better for my first date."

  I brush a strand of hair off of her face, tucking it behind her ear. "You deserve all of this and more, and it might sound crazy, but if I have any say in it, I'm damn sure going to be the one to give it to you."

  Her eyes get a faraway look as we walk back to my car. I can't help but wonder what she's thinking. Deciding to go for it, I ask.

  She laughs nervously. "Nothing."

  "No, not nothing."

  "It's nothing," she insists.

  "It's something." I open her door and help her into her seat.

  "Sterling, please." She turns her face away from me. "Can we talk about it later?"

  I debate pushing the issue, but eventually decide that she's right; we can talk about it later.

  "So, what next?" she asks once I'm behind the wheel.

  "Well, we can either find something else to do or we can go back to my place...if you're still okay with staying over. If not, I'll take you home."

  "No!" she blurts, whipping around to face me. "No, please take me back to your place...that's where I want to be."

  Feeling like I've won the lottery, I don't waste a second starting the car and pulling into traffic. The drive home passes like molasses. Every mile feels like ten with her shooting me these nervous, coy looks, nibbling on her lip, and squirming in her seat.

  It's obvious there's something on her mind, possibly even something d
irty, but I don't want to push and risk her shutting down completely.

  Once we’re safely inside of my house, I offer her some after dinner coffee, which she readily accepts. I'm starting to think she might be as addicted to caffeine as I am, if not more so.

  "Do you want to drink it on the deck? I can light the fire pit."

  "That sounds perfect." Her voice has an almost dream-like quality to it that sends an appreciative chill down my spine.

  "Great. Do you think you can handle making the coffee while I start the fire?"

  "Pretty sure I can handle your fancy coffee maker, Sterling. It's not exactly rocket science."

  I laugh at her smart mouth, loving the little bit of spirit that's starting to break through.

  She's no longer the subdued, meek little creature from the start of the semester, instead she's a woman with fire and sass and a will stronger than steel. I love the woman she's becoming, and I'm fucking thrilled that I get to be a part of it. It's an honor, one I'll never take for granted—especially since I know I don't deserve it.

  The fire is lit by the time she joins me outside, and we decide to sip our coffee on the small loveseat facing the mountain peaks in the distance.

  When I set up my deck, romance was the last thing on my mind, but suddenly I'm glad I let my designer do her thing. Because having Emmalyn this close has me feeling content in a way I've never known before.

  "Are you sure tonight was good?" I know I'm a shit, fishing for compliments, but my ego demands it. Something about hearing her tell me it was good settles the part of my soul that screams I'm not good enough and don’t deserve her.

  "It was perfect, Sterling. I'll be honest, I was really apprehensive, but you made tonight better than anything I ever could've imagined."

  I nod my head, feeling proud that I was able to give her this, as small as it may be. "The next one will be even better."

  "It's not a contest, stop trying to one up yourself. Honestly, I don't even think you could."

  "Tonight was that perfect, huh?"

  Her teasing smile turns serious. "Sterling, I need to ask you something."

  Apprehension and dread collide inside of me in a head-on collision. "What?"

  "Can I kiss you?”

  "Baby, that's not something you ever have to ask for."

  Her brown eyes glint in the firelight as she leans forward, setting her mug down onto the table. I place mine on the deck at our feet, waiting anxiously for her next move.

  I'm expecting her to lean in for a gentle kiss, so imagine my surprise when she turns toward me and swings one leg over mine to straddle my lap.

  "Fuck, baby," I groan, but she swallows the sound, boldly pressing her lips to mine, flicking her tongue against the seam until I open for her.

  In the span of a breath our kiss goes from tame to heated, with her tunneling her fingers through my hair and rolling her hips against mine.

  My hands roam her body, squeezing her ass. She trembles in my arms as I drag my hands across her hips and over the dips in her waist.

  "Sterling," she moans, and I swear, between the sound of her voice and the way she moves against me, it feels like I'm in paradise.

  But I'm worried she's not ready for where this is headed. "Baby." I move my hands back to her hips, stilling her movements. "Stop. Slow down. Let's talk about this."

  But she doesn't let up. "I want this, I want you," she murmurs, her lips never breaking from mine.

  "I want this, too, Emmalyn, but I also want to make sure we're on the same page."

  The amount of self-control I'm displaying right now impresses even me. Because while I would love nothing more than to flip her onto her back and claim every square inch of her delectable body, I refuse to take more than she's willing and ready to give.

  I refuse to take anything more before getting complete consent.

  "Just kiss me, Sterling!" She leans back in, frantic for my touch in a way that sets my teeth on edge.

  “Slow down and talk to me, little mouse.”

  She huffs and flings herself from my lap, moving to the chair beside me. "Sure, Sterling," she bites out my name. "Let's talk."

  "Are you mad at me?"

  "It's not every day that a girl gets rejected in the heat of the moment. Especially on her first date."

  "Whoa, hold up. I am not rejecting you. I just think we need to talk before we go any further. You're more to me than some cheap fuck. I see the possibility of a future between the two of us, and I don't think slowing down to talk is a bad thing. Can we please...I just want to understand where you are, what you want, and to make sure that everything is what it should be."

  She instantly deflates. "Okay."

  "It's not that I didn't like where this was going, but it seemed sudden."

  Her shoulders curl forward and she wraps her arms around herself. "I guess you're right. It's just..." Tears well in her eyes, and my heart clenches at the sight of the droplets clinging to her lashes.

  I don't ever want to see her cry ever again, and yet here she is, on a night that was supposed to be magical, with tears dripping from her chin.

  "Talk to me, baby, you're breaking my heart."

  A broken sob spills from her lips. "It's...I... He’s the only man to ever touch me, and I don't want the memory of his touch to linger. I want you to erase it...I need you to. I don't want to think about sex and see his face. I want to think about pleasure and happiness. I want to think about you, about your touch and the way you say my name. Please, Sterling, please make it better. Touch me, brand me. Make me yours."

  And just like that, my heart absolutely shatters in my chest.

  I mean—fuck—who am I to deny her?

  "C'mere, baby," I whisper, opening my arms wide.

  "Really?" she asks, a slight tremble to her voice. "You really want to do this with me? Even knowing...everything?"

  My tongue darts out, swiping across my lower lip, savoring the lingering taste of her kiss. "Baby, want is not a strong enough word."

  She wipes away the last of her tears. "Okay, then,” she whispers as she stands, stepping into my waiting arms.

  I guide her through the house, straight back to my bedroom. I can feel the nervous energy pouring off of her. Or maybe it's me, because I'm damn sure a wreck, hoping like hell I can make this good for her, that I can indeed erase his touch and replace it with mine.

  That I can submerge and drown her in so much pleasure, she’ll never think of his hands on her again. I want to purge that piece of shit from her system until she associates sex with pleasure, and pleasure with me, with my body, my touch, and my voice.

  Once we cross the threshold into my room, Emmalyn pops up on her toes and kisses me softly.

  I brush my lips against hers twice before pulling back with a smile. "It's not too late to change your mind," I tell her. "It's never too late to change your mind. If at any point it's too much or you don't want to continue, all you have to do is say the word and everything stops. This is about you, okay?"

  Her hair falls into her face as she nods; I reach out and brush the strands so I can see her eyes. "I mean it, baby; I won't get upset. I won't get mad. You set the pace, you're in charge."

  She smiles up at me with so much faith in her gaze that my knees nearly buckle. "I trust you, Sterling. I know you'll take care of me."

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Emmy

  I went into this date hopeful yet apprehensive. Given our twisted history, it seemed wise to be at least a little guarded. But after all of the thought and effort Sterling put into tonight, I know he’s worthy of me. That he will cherish me, and treat me right.

  By the time we made it back to his place, I was confident in my decision. Eager for his touch even. Ready and willing.

  As foolish as that sounds, I stand by it, even as my body quakes in terrified anticipation of what's to come.

  It's not him I'm scared of, but how he’ll react to me once it’s over.

  What if he finds me lacking?
What if I'm not good enough? Surely a man like Sterling has plenty of experience. How could someone like me ever satisfy him?

  A jolt runs through me as he smooths his index finger along my jaw and over my cheek. "Where did you go, little mouse?"

  "Sorry."

  He kisses my forehead. "Let me into those thoughts. Remember what I said about not hiding from me? How can I take care of you if I don't know what you're thinking?"

  I laugh ruefully. "How did I get so lucky to have you?"

  "I don't think luck had anything to do with it. I'm pretty sure you were meant to be mine. The wires of the universe just got crossed along the way. But I'm here now, baby, and I'm gonna make up for everything."

  Unable to help myself, I loop my arms around his neck and pull him down for another kiss that quickly turns heated as Sterling walks us back toward his bed.

  "I want to touch you here." He whispers the words against my lips as he reaches up to cup my breasts. "To taste you here."

  I try to capture his lips again, but he pulls away, making me whimper. I crave his touch; I long for it more than I've ever longed for anything. It honestly feels like I'll die if he doesn’t put his hands on my body.

  "Can I take this off?" he asks, pulling at the material of my sweater.

  I nod, unable to form words as desire unlike anything I've ever known crashes into me, nearly knocking me sideways.

  He removes my shirt, and I quickly follow with my bra, too lust-drunk on him to remember to be nervous.

  "God, you're beautiful." He presses a kiss to my collarbone before moving his mouth to the valley between my breasts. His warm lips blaze a trail, sucking and licking and nibbling, until he draws my right nipple into his mouth.

  The combined suction and the heat of his mouth is almost too much for me to bear as he lavishes my breast with attention.

  A whimper breaks free as he pulls away and moves to the other side. "Let's lay you down," he murmurs, positioning me just so against the mountain of pillows at the headboard before crawling up the bed, coming to rest between my thighs.