18. Emily

Chapter eighteen

Emily

A horny wolf on a mission is a fast wolf. Easton's gathered pillows up to support my belly in the time it takes me to get off my shoes. Why do I even bother to take off my shoes? I don't know. This isn't going to be like that. This isn't some romantic ‘let's make love until dawn' situation. This is a straight hook up and I'm here for it. Would it be amazing if this was more? Absolutely. But I have no doubt in my heart or head that when Easton Degarmo tells a girl like me he wants to be "more," we are definitely not on the boyfriend/girlfriend track, but on the friends with benefits track. He's saved my life, he's hot, he's been a gentleman so far, and I'd be totally lying if having a guy in my bed, or in this case, on my floor, hasn't been something I missed.

His eyes pass through flashes of black as they trail over me. "Do you want to be on top…or…" his voice trails off and I start to wonder if he isn't a little nervous. A guy like him, nervous about a quickie? But then again, I'm probably his first preggo. "Let's try all fours," I suggest. His eyes turn solid black and stay that way as I move into position. He moves my braid so it hangs down my left shoulder and lets his hand drift down my spine. Even over the top of my dress, his fingers make me shiver.

Awkward or not, the anticipation is killing me. I'm desperate for him to touch me. He shifts my dress up until it's up past my waist and begins to unbuckle his pants. Every single sound makes my heart pound faster–the sound of the metal clicking, the zipper as it slides all the way down.

He slides down the underwear I'm wearing, only to make a growl of frustration before ripping it off my body.

That's definitely a first.

Lips brush one ass cheek, then the other, followed by soft bites of my flesh. His tongue slides a trail up my tailbone and all the way up my spine. He stops at my bra, unhooks it and slides his hands under my dress, searching for my breasts.

"Are you ready for me, Emily?"

Normally, I'd be nowhere close, but pregnancy hormones must be on overdrive. I'm soaked, desperate for him to touch me, to fill me up. His hands leave my breasts and trail down my sides, sliding between my legs, until he's fingering me. The slickness makes an obscene sound as he slowly pumps in and out of me.

"Fuck," he practically growls. "I can't wait–"

"I'm ready," I breathe, moving with him as he fucks me with his finger. He pulls out of my body without warning and presses his cock against my entrance.

"I won't break, I promise." I manage to get out as he finds my clit and begins to massage it with a finger on each side. The friction of it is amazing, but it will take forever to get anywhere like this. Heat builds in my core and for a moment, all I can focus is on myself. Easton is still hesitating, inching slowly into my body. It's been way too long since I've had sex and I let frustration creep into my voice.

"Easton, fuck me already." I find myself demanding. I give him no warning. He's already entered me, so I press back into him, and his cock fills me completely.

There is a pause as we both suck in a breath. The stretch is a little more than I was prepared for, but isn't anything I can't handle.

"You won't hurt me," I tell him and begin to move for the both of us when he doesn't.

"I can't control myself, Emily," he practically growls above me.

"Then don't," I pant back.

The fingers brushing my clit are forgotten for the moment as his other hand grabs my thigh to hold me in place while he begins to pound into me. His thrusting is a relentless rhythm of movement I never want to end. We are not having sex or making love. This is straight up fucking, but it's all I want at this moment. His movements are hypnotic, and I'm lost completely to this rhythm he's taken up as he moves in and out of me. All I want is to be in this place forever, hanging over the cliff of my own orgasm as he rocks me with his own need.

Suddenly, he pulls me tight against him. His growl is low and deep in my ear as he thrusts into me one last time–everything between us suddenly soaked. He pauses for a moment, whispering my name before finally remembering me and my aching clit.

Instead of keeping me on all fours, he sits up straighter and pulls me back against him. His cock slides out of me and my inner thighs are drenched with his cum as he focuses entirely on my clit, his arms like a vise holding me against his body. I can't move, but it doesn't matter. Every part of my body feels like it's stretching for the orgasm that is so close.

He runs his tongue down my neck. His breath is against my ear as his fingers work my clit. "They'll be back any minute, sweetheart. You going to let them catch us?" That's all it takes. My entire body, has been wound up so tight up to this point, but Easton releases me from it all. My entire body shakes as he works my clit through it until I'm sagging against his grip.

He kisses the crook of my neck, his teeth dragging across the sensitive flesh there, and I find myself shuddering again. His arms don't move until I relax against him, still breathless. "Stay here, Emily. I'll get you a washcloth."

How he'll find one in this mess, I don't know, but all I can do is nod as he walks away zipping up his pants. He returns and kneels down in front of me, lifting my dress before he gently wipes my thighs and pussy before helping me up.

He brushes a stray strand of hair from my face and pushes it behind my ear. "I'll help you pack here in just a second." I still feel like jello–wobbly, relaxed. All I can do is nod. I'm sleepy, but this is not the place or time to take a nap. There's a suitcase in the closet, strangely enough in the same place I left it. I pull it out as Easton makes his way back into the room and helps me find clothes among the mess.

"Is there anything else you want to take with you? Pictures? Keepsakes? They may be monitoring this place, and it might be a while before we can come back."

The blanket Angie has made for the baby is laying on the floor. I pick it up–a smudged footprint is on it, but I fold it and shove it into a side pocket. "This is it, I guess."

"It's going to be okay, Emily. I've got this," Easton says as he leads me back to the car. Neither Micah nor Jacob are there.

"Easton, did you really send them out to look for Sir Jon?"

"Of course, I did."

"Call them back. He's skittish. He's not going to come to some huge man tromping through the weeds."

Easton takes the suitcase and puts it in the trunk. "Are you sure?"

I nod. "We'll have better luck asking the neighbors to put out some cat food."

He pulls his phone out as I get back into the car. Exhaustion weighs heavily on me. The clock on the dash of the car says it's only noon. Only noon. How can so much have happened in four short hours? I lay my head back against the seat and close my eyes. The car door opens and Easton slides in next to me. "Put your seatbelt on," he tells me.

I obey without opening my eyes and feel him tug me to him, his arm pulling me close to his side. My heart picks up a bit, but even as I press into his side, I remind myself–or at least try to–that we're only just friends. Friends with amazing benefits, but just friends.

The men return to the car and we head back home as I relax against my ‘friend.'

***

The stopping of the car forces me out of my reverie with a start. "It's okay. We're home," Easton reassures me. "Do you need me to carry you?"

I snort. "Not if you enjoy having a working back."

Jacob huffs a laugh from the front, stopping only as Easton growls. "It was a joke," I tell him softly, my hand on his chest. "He's supposed to laugh."

Easton meets my gaze. "It's lunchtime. Are you hungry?"

I yawn and stretch as he helps me out of the car. Where this extra dose of exhaustion has come from is a mystery. Maybe this is just how pregnancy is. "A little. Tired mostly. Would you be offended if I lay down?"

"Of course not."

He keeps my hand in his as we walk up the stairs, into the house and down the hall to my suite. Instead of leaving me at the door, he follows me in and starts to pull back the bed for me as I plop down at the end, too tired to actually move any further.

"Are you okay?"

I nod. "Just suddenly drained."

He slips my shoes off my feet and goes to pull off my dress. "My clothes are still in the car."

"The men will bring them in later."

"I don't have anything to nap in. I don't want to wrinkle the dress."

"Considering our day, I think that ship has sailed."

I roll my eyes.

"Sleep naked."

I snort. "That's a man's answer if I ever heard one. What happens if there's a fire? Do I get to stand on the lawn naked and huge for everyone to see?"

He smiles and kisses me. It's just a quick peck on the lips, nothing big, but it makes my heart rate pick up, anyway. "If there's a fire, I'll wrap you in a blanket. Let me have the dress."

I stand so he can peel off the dress and then let him unhook my bra. His eyes flash black for a moment, but he doesn't try anything. He simply lifts the covers and waits for me to slip under them. Once I'm settled, he tucks the blankets in around me and runs a hand across my cheek. "Get some rest. I'll bring you food when you feel like getting up."

"Thank you."

He looks at me for too long a moment, then nods. "Of course."

He draws the curtains and turns off the light, letting himself out of the room with a soft click of the door behind him. I lay there for a long while, exhausted but suddenly unable to sleep. Are friends with benefits this touchy? Do they hold hands? Tuck each other into bed? Why are men so confusing?

I slowly flip to my other side, and my mind goes to Sir Jon. I pray he made it out of the apartment okay.

Please be out there somewhere.

Sir Jon hasn't been outside on his own in forever. The idea of him wandering the woods alone keeps me up for a good long while.