Chapter 49

Forty-Nine

SCOTTIE

My eyes fly open, and William's name is on the very tip of my tongue.

I stare at the ceiling, waiting for my eyes to adjust. I'm trembling. I can't remember what I was dreaming about, but I know it had to do with him because, while at the game, he called, and I missed it.

I've been so distracted by Emory and our marriage ploy that I haven't even called the lawyer back. I haven't thought about the future at all—unless, of course, I'm daydreaming about Emory's and my future.

It's a ridiculous thought and one that I have to stop.

Emory is lying on his back with one arm above his head and the other draped across the mattress, like he's reaching for me.

God, stop it.

I force myself to look away when my face heats. I take a deep breath.

I'm acting like a thirteen-year-old girl with her first crush.

It's ridiculous but not in the same breath. When I was thirteen, I was too busy cleaning up my mother's messes and trying to keep our house in order so social services didn't show up and separate my brother and me.

The sweet taste of first love was something I never experienced.

When I had my first real adventure with the opposite sex, I didn't even mention that I was a virgin. I just jumped headfirst and needed it to be quick so I could get on with my responsibilities.

But with Emory, it's different.

When he looks at me, I can't think straight.

When he touches me, I lose my footing.

When he kisses me, I'm his.

I've never wanted to be on someone's mind like I want to be on Emory's.

I'm obsessed with the thought of him needing to touch me.

Like he can't breathe without it.

That's how he makes me feel, but it's too scary to admit out loud, so instead, I just scoot a little closer to feel his warmth through the blankets and close my eyes.

A moment later, his finger grazes my arm.

My heart skips a beat, but I act like I'm asleep. My body relaxes with every single swipe of his knuckle against my skin. Without meaning to, I move even closer. There's a needy dip in my stomach, and my lungs expand with a secret that I'm afraid I'll tell if I move even an inch.

But then his hand falls to my thigh.

Heat rushes to the spot.

Emory inhales and pulls my leg higher. I drape it across his strong thighs. Moving my knee just slightly, I get a quick brush of his desire, and it is too much to ignore. I don't have to act on it, but I most definitely can't pretend it isn't there. Every nerve ending is frayed with the chemistry swarming between us.

The silence is deafening.

The darkness blankets me like protection, and that's the only reason I allow myself to act without reservation.

My touch against his skin has obvious doubts, but his against mine feels purposeful. I'm acting with hesitancy, whereas he is acting with possession.

"Stop holding back," he whispers, grabbing the side of my face. His calloused hand scratches my cheek, and when his fingers bury themselves in my hair, I do as he says. For the first time, I initiate the kiss.

I'm immediately swept away.

I start off slow, kissing him with caution, but as soon as he pulls me on top of him, I deepen the kiss and lose myself.

My legs fall to his sides, and I press down. I'm in nothing but one of his shirts and my panties. With each subtle drag of his hands up my thighs, I kiss him harder. My tongue swipes against his, and a little moan leaves me when his fingers dig into my hips.

"That's it," he encourages, gripping me tightly as I rub against him. "We're too far gone to hold back now, Scottie."

The more I move, the harder he gets. He curses under his breath, and I tingle. My skin is on fire, so I grip the hem of the T-shirt and strip it from my body.

His hand creeps up my back, and he presses me toward his mouth. I gasp when his tongue flicks against my nipple.

"Show me that you want me as badly as I want you," he says, giving my other breast attention.

It's an addicting thought and one that has me breezing right past my worries. I grind against him, and he grabs my hips to push me down harder. The feeling sucks me in, and I find myself lifting up so he can remove my panties.

His sweats go next, and I touch him all over, running my curious hands over the ridges of his hard muscles.

"Do you?" he asks, nipping at my lip.

"Huh?" I say, breathing hard.

"Do you want me so badly you can't think straight? Because that's how I feel when it comes to you." He kisses me hard and fast, like he's afraid I'm going to deny it.

I can't.

Not like this.

"Yes," I say without any hesitation.

I want you so much that I'm terrified.

Suddenly, I'm flipped onto my back, and my legs are spread wide open. Emory hovers over me, balancing on his strong forearms.

"Let me make you mine." His plea grazes my lips. "Right here. Just like this."

I pause. There is no going back if I give him the okay.

"Please, Scottie," he begs, rubbing himself against me.

I'm done for.

"Make me yours, Olson."

" Fuck ," he rasps.

I gasp with pleasure when he pushes himself inside.

"God, you were fucking made for me," he groans.

With every slow thrust, I build higher and higher. My hips spread wider, and I'm enthralled with the way my body loses control.

"Emory," I moan.

He peppers my neck with kisses before making his way back to my lips and swallowing my moans.

I break apart when his kisses become feverish, and his thrusts get deeper.

He takes his mouth from mine, and I don't even care that he's watching me succumb to the pleasure. The ride is too much. I'm in a lustful daze, and every part of my body sings.

"Mine," he grits before pumping into me one more time.

I almost pout when he pulls out, but then I feel his come spill out onto my belly, and my teeth sink into my bottom lip.

God, that's hot.

He flops to his back, and I smile to myself when he says, "Wow," under his breath.

Because…same.