Tease

  “Emerson.” Professor Martinelli came up behind me. “I wanted to talk to you about the showcase.”

  I cringed, hoping she wasn’t going to fuss at me for leaving so early last Friday.

  “Your work received much praise.”

  “Oh.” I flushed, delighted and embarrassed at the same time.

  “My friend, the gallery owner from Boston, was very interested in your work. Especially A Winter’s Morning. In fact, she would like to display it in her gallery.”

  “Are you serious?” I hopped anxiously in place, feeling like a kid at Christmas.

  Professor Martinelli reached inside her pocket and pulled out a small business card. “She would like you to contact her.”

  I took the card with shaking fingers. “Thank you. I will.”

  She smiled and squeezed my shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Emerson.”

  Her words warmed me all over. From the inside out. I wasn’t accustomed to praise. Maybe I was even starved for it. It wasn’t something I ever got from my parents, after all.

  “Thank you.”

  “Keep it up. You’ll go far, Emerson.” Nodding, she turned away.

  I took a step after her. “Professor Martinelli.” She stopped and looked back at me. I moistened my lips. “Would you know anything about airbrushing?” I didn’t even know I was going to ask the question until the words came out.

  “Airbrushing?”

  “Yes. I was interested in trying a new medium.”

  She cocked her head, considering it. “Interesting. Tell you what, you get me a list of the materials you’ll need, and I’ll order everything for you, okay? I’m fascinated to see where you go with this, Emerson.” She scanned me. “You never cease to intrigue me.”

  My heart swelled. “Oh, thank you, thank you!”

  After she left, I hurriedly finished cleaning my station and left. My boots crunched across the snow-coated sidewalk. The suite was empty and I shot Georgia a text to check on her before jumping into the shower, where I shampooed, lathered, exfoliated, and shaved.

  Georgia’s reply was waiting for me when I got back to the room. She’d gone to see a movie with Suzanne. I sighed with relief, glad she wasn’t alone. She seemed to be doing okay, but I knew she wasn’t sleeping well. Even if I didn’t hear her tossing and turning at night, the shadowy smudges under her eyes served as evidence.

  I was dressed and ready by four forty-five. I sank down on the edge of my bed, smoothing my hands over the thighs of my skinny jeans. I glanced at the clock. Only one minute had passed since the last time I looked at it. Seven seemed a long way off.

  An idea hit me. Grabbing my keys, I decided to get this night started.

  I PULLED IN FRONT of Shaw’s house at half past five, the heavenly aroma of meat, cheese, and fried goodness wafting to me from the passenger-side floorboard. At five, there was no line at Mulvaney’s. I only had to wait ten minutes for them to prepare my order. I assumed a guy like Shaw could eat his weight in food so I’d ordered two large sides of Tijuana fries and fried pickles to go along with our burgers.

  I eyed Shaw’s truck, relieved he was here. Only after picking up dinner from Mulvaney’s had it occurred to me that he might not be coming from home before meeting me.

  Hefting the warm bag from the floorboard, I exited the car. My boots thudded up the front porch steps. I knocked on the front door and hit my heels into the porch, shaking loose some of the snow so that I didn’t track it into his house. A full minute passed before I knocked again, not wanting to appear overly impatient. Maybe he hadn’t heard my first knock.

  Another minute passed and I was starting to feel foolish for coming here unannounced and debating whether to knock for a third time or just skulk away. I could toss the food and show up at seven like we had originally planned.

  God, when did I turn into one of those girls? The kind who was always second-guessing herself when it came to a guy.

  Not that he was any guy. Clearly. From the first moment I met him he had been different. I had been different.

  I’d started to turn away when the door was suddenly pulled open.

  “Emerson.”

  I turned, my hand shifting slightly to the bottom of the bag and the heat practically singed my fingers, but I didn’t care. It was nothing compared to the heat that swept through me at seeing him standing there damp from the shower, a towel wrapped loosely at his waist.

  “Hi.” My voice was strained and breathless. I lifted the bag in my hands. “Change of plans.”

  His dark eyes scanned me and the bag, his mouth quirked in that sexy half grin I was coming to love. “We’re eating in?”

  “Hope you don’t mind.”

  “Are you kidding? A beautiful woman just showed up on my doorstep with food. I might be in love.”

  My smile froze on my face. Heat swarmed my body and I knew I must be every shade of red from the neck up.

  It was just an expression. A joke. Of course it was a joke, but everything inside me seized with a mixture of fear and hope.

  And that’s when I knew I wanted the words to be true.

  “C’mon inside.” He waved me in, either unaware of or prepared to ignore how his words had just shattered me. He couldn’t know what they did to me. How badly I wanted them to be real.

  I carried the food to the table and began removing cartons with trembling hands. It was embarrassing. We’d already had sex. The ultimate intimacy. Why did I still feel so vulnerable and exposed around him?

  Because you just realized you were in love with him and that gives him the ultimate power over you. Even if he doesn’t realize it.

  I felt him before he spoke. His body radiated heat as he stopped beside me, his chest aligned with my arm. “Hey.” His voice whispered across my cheek. “Why are you shaking?”

  I didn’t look at him. If I looked at him he would know. He would see everything I was feeling shining in my eyes. Too bad running away at this point wasn’t an option. I’d come here. I had to stand my ground and hope that I didn’t make a fool of myself.

  With slow movements, I removed my scarf, then my coat. Drawing a deep breath, I faced him.

  “Hey,” I whispered back.

  “I missed you.” His thumb dragged down my cheek.

  Stretching up on my tiptoes, I kissed him, slowly, tenderly, savoring the smooth firmness of his lips. I savored him and the moment. Our first kiss with my full knowledge that I loved him. Whatever else happened, I could have this.

  His hands came up to hold my face. I deepened the kiss, licking his tongue, nipping his bottom lip as my hand went for his towel. It was too easy. Just a tug and it was gone. His naked body pressed against mine and it was achingly clear that I had too many clothes on.

  He lifted me in one smooth move. My legs wrapped around his waist. Lips locked, he walked me to the bed. That great big bed where I had woken alone so many nights ago. I wasn’t going to be alone in it this time.

  He stopped at the edge of the bed and we feverishly removed my clothes, our hands flying, bumping clumsily in our haste. Until I was equally naked. The room was more well-lit than my suite last weekend and heat scored my cheeks as he surveyed me from the top of my head to my bare feet.

  “You should never wear clothes.” His eyes gleamed, dark with appreciation.

  I released a nervous laugh.

  “At least around me,” he amended, his hands coming to rest on my hips. “No one else should get to see you like this. There would be riots.”

  I laughed harder. “Stop.” My gaze flicked over him. I couldn’t help myself. He was all lean muscle and sinew. I placed my hand directly over his heart, feeling its steady thump as I covered his warm, inked skin with my palm. “You would cause your own share of riots.”

  He inched me back on the bed, his big body covering mine. His arms braced on either side of me, keeping his weight from crushing me completely.

  I gasped at the sensation of him. At his erection prodding the inside of my thigh. I parted
my thighs instinctively, already yearning for him, needing him there, desperate for him to assuage the clenching ache. I squirmed and wiggled under him, but he just shook his head at me, smiling wickedly. “Not yet.”

  I sighed as he lowered his head to my neck and started kissing his way down my throat, over the slope of my shoulder. Slow, long kisses where he used his teeth and tongue.

  I stared straight ahead, seeing nothing. Seeing everything. My fingers sliced through the thick strands of his hair, tugging the silken locks.

  I was already gasping by the time he reached my breasts. I could have wept as he sucked my nipple into his warm mouth, pulling it deep, his tongue laving the hard tip.

  I moaned his name, surging restlessly under him. His hands spanned my hips as his mouth descended, kissing down my belly and arriving between my legs. His mouth landed unerringly at my core. He blew on my moist heat, driving me wild. He tongued me, lapped at me, circling that tiny hidden nub before finally taking it and sucking it firmly between his lips.

  I came in under five seconds, shuddering against his mouth, at the deep pulling drags of his lips around me.

  My arms dropped above my head. Panting, I stared up at him as he rose back up to grin down at me. “Hang on one second.”

  He moved to the small nightstand by the bed and grabbed a condom. I scrambled to my knees, pushing my hair back off my face as he came back to me. “Can I put it on you?”

  He handed me the small packet. I pushed him back on the bed with one hand on his chest. He tucked his arms behind his head, a relaxed pose that belied the dark need in his eyes.

  My gaze drifted down his body, stopping on his erection. A smile curved my lips as I settled between his thighs. I closed my hand around the hard length of him, slowly gliding my thumb over his silken head. His breath caught and my eyes flew to his face. His jaw was clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek.

  I stroked him again with my thumb, loving the feel of him, silk on steel. His breathing turned ragged. Watching him, I dipped my head and licked the head of him. I waited, almost expecting him to stop me like the last time I’d tried this. When he made no move, my smile widened and I licked him again, my tongue circling the tip of him. I closed my lips over him, just about an inch. I sucked, running my tongue over him, tracing the shape of him, the silken underside of his cock, the slit at the very tip. I reveled in this, in holding him at my mercy with just my mouth.

  I dragged my fingers down his shaft to cup his balls, and in that same motion I slid my mouth all the way down the long stretch of his erection. He groaned, thrusting himself into my mouth, almost hitting the back of my throat. I held him deep, sucking hard as I tongued the length of him.

  “Please,” he begged, his fingers diving into my hair. “I need to be inside you.”

  I smiled around him, loving the taste of him and the way he groaned.

  “God, Emerson.” His fingers flexed in my hair. He didn’t jerk on my head. He didn’t try to pull or direct me. He just massaged my scalp, thrusting his hips against my mouth, trying to get me to take more of him in.

  His groan rippled through me. Desire tightened my belly. I pulled back, sucking just the head of him, my cheeks caving as I drew him in, my hand closed firmly around the base of his shaft, holding him captive to my ministrations.

  “Fuck, Emerson, don’t toy with me.” He reached for my arms to pull me up, but I wasn’t having it. I dipped my head, taking him in deep again, my fingers gently flexing around him.

  He groaned and gave up his hold on my arms, both hands fisting in my hair. Satisfied, I released him, popping him from my mouth like a lollipop. I snatched up the condom from where I’d dropped it on the bed and fumbled with the wrapper, my hands shaking.

  He plucked it from my hands and brought it to his mouth, tearing it with his teeth in one jerk. We were both panting. I scrambled to my back, my hands propping me up as I hungrily watched him slide the condom down his hard cock.

  His big hands closed around my hips. In one yank, he hauled me toward him on the bed.

  “Wait,” I panted, pushing him onto his back on the bed.

  “Emerson,” he growled, his voice thick with a need that matched my own. His expression actually looked pained.

  “I want to do this.” I wanted to feel him under me, his big body subject to my whim.

  “Then you better be quick. I can’t wait any longer.”

  Neither could I. Straddling him, I reached between us, circling him in my palm and guiding him inside me. I sank down slowly, seating myself on him. I gasped at the fullness of him, stretching me to capacity. His hands flexed on my hips.

  This position brought him deeper. I had never felt so full. My muscles surrounded him like a glove. The pleasure of him buried inside me bordered on pain.

  He breathed my name, his eyes closing. “Emerson, God, you feel so good.” His hips surged, pushing himself deeper. “So. Tight.” My breath fell harsh and fast as my body adjusted to him. His hardness pulsed in me, sending sensation shooting to every nerve in my body.

  I settled a hand on his flat stomach. Muscle and sinew rippled under my palm as I lifted my hips and brought myself back down on him, gasping at the delicious friction.

  His hands slid down my back to grip my bottom, guiding me, showing me how to set the pace. I balanced my hands on his rock-hard chest, working my hips over him. His eyes glowed darkly, feasting on me, above him. “That’s it.” He squeezed my ass, and the pressure of his hands on me coupled with his hoarse, “Faster,” nearly sent me over the edge.

  I angled my body forward, grabbing hold of the headboard as I curled over him, finding what I liked, coming apart with a cry each time he hit that hidden spot. I ground against him, our bodies coming together with loud smacks, whimpers spilling faster and faster from my lips.

  “That’s it, baby,” he encouraged. “Make yourself come.” He sat up, his hands sliding up my back, rough, broad palms gliding over each tiny bump of my spine. I shivered as his mouth settled on my throat, his teeth scraping my flesh and dragging my pounding pulse point into his mouth.

  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, hugging him close to me as my hips undulated, pumping over him. I reveled in the feel of his body, the smooth skin stretched over firm muscles. I rained kisses over his shoulder, taking tiny bites, nips at his salty flesh.

  “God, Em, I can’t take it anymore.” He wrapped one arm around my waist and flipped me in one smooth move, staying fully lodged inside me, never once breaking contact. I yelped at the sudden impact of the bed at my back and him over me, driving deep. He thrust hard and fast. “I’m sorry. I need—I can’t—”

  I lifted my head off the mattress and planted my mouth on his lips, letting that kill any worry he might have that he was being too rough with me.

  He gripped my thigh, hooking a thumb behind my knee and pushing my leg up toward my head. The angle brought him in even deeper and I cried out into his mouth, shuddering beneath him as his strokes came hard and swift. Words tripped from my lips, spilling into his open mouth. More. Faster. Harder. The pressure building inside me finally snapped.

  He thrust several more times. Each stroke felt deeper than the one before and had me arching beneath him, my fingers clutching his biceps, nails scoring his flesh. I closed my eyes and saw actual spots, bright flashes of color behind my eyelids as I came apart, every nerve exploding with sensation as I flew into pieces in his arms. White-hot pleasure eddied through me. I melted. My muscles turned to hot liquid.

  He slammed into me one final time, groaning into the crook of my neck. I held him tightly, folding my arms around him, my hands smoothing over his slick skin.

  He moved to pull out of me, but I squeezed my legs around him. “I don’t want you to go,” I whispered.

  “I’m too heavy.”

  “It’s a good weight.”

  He braced his arms on either side of me and looked down, framing my face in his hands. His fingers played with my hair, brushing my cheeks.

>   I smiled, sated, replete, wondering how the hell I could have stayed away from him even this long. From the moment I met him that night at Maisie’s we could have been doing this. “It was even better than before and I didn’t think that was possible.” I practically purred the words.

  “You know what they say? Practice makes perfect.”

  “Then we should practice. A lot,” I teased, deliberately not thinking about how very permanent that sounded. I wasn’t going to let myself think about where this was going—if anywhere. That would only make panic creep in.

  I didn’t do relationships. I was sure to fuck this up. I killed the thought. You just said you weren’t going to think about the future.

  He rolled to his side, slipping from me. Immediately I felt bereft, hollow inside. I tugged the comforter over me, watching as he rose from the bed, admiring his taut backside as he removed the condom and disposed of it in the trash can. Turning, he strode back to the bed and slid in beside me, his warm flesh surrounding me and affecting me all over again. My softness melted into his hardness. His arms felt like muscled bands around me.

  My fingers skimmed his muscled shoulders and biceps. He really was too beautiful. I would love to paint his body, all the shadowed dips and muscled swells.

  “So this is afterglow?” I grinned against his chest, turning my face into the curve of his shoulder. “Now I get it.”

  He chuckled. “You had doubts of its existence before? Like it was all some urban legend?”

  “Something like that. I mean I’ve heard . . .” My voice faded and I bit my lip, embarrassed. What was I supposed to do? Share the stories I’d heard from my friends over the years?

  His fingers trailed through my hair. “What have you heard?”

  “Um, nothing that prepared me for this.”

  “Careful. You’re inflating my ego.”

  “As if it’s not inflated already.”

  His fingers slid down to tickle my side and I jumped. “Hey, you’re making me sound like I’m some arrogant man-whore.” He lifted up on one elbow to watch me, still tickling me so that I writhed and squealed under him.

  “No, stop, stop!” I laughed breathlessly, tears streaming down my face.