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-17-
Rose
Lighthouse Cove, Maine
July 6, 2023
Contrary to what most people would think, Emmett and I didn't fuck last night.
I know, it shocks me too.
It just simply didn't pan out that way. After I caught my breath from everything that is Emmett when he's trying to be suave, we wound up settling into a conversation, and I quickly found myself not ready to stop listening to him talk.
Man, is he easy to talk to. I suppose I knew that on some level, but having the time to really sink into him only made that fact more evident.
I can be a little awkward with people. Of course not with Ali and Bella, but that took the years of our college time together to get to the point where I could be entirely open with them.
Not to say I'm entirely transparent with Emmett, but I don't feel that sense of a filter I tend to get with other people. I say what's on my mind with him, and it's fucking refreshing.
Yet, it's still something I'm not accustomed to with most people.
I suppose I have been building a relationship with Emmett for a few years now. It's not like I'm in a complete stranger's bed, and we've always gotten along and been a little more than work-friendly with each other.
But last night, I went out on a limb more than I normally would. We settled into each other, in a way. I told him everything about myself. How I grew up in Ohio with my parents, how my father left us early on and my mother only did the bare minimum to raise me, and how often I feel like I'm more like her mother, so over the years we've slowly stopped talking. I told him I have no siblings except the girls, about the few places I've traveled in the world, and told the stories from my youth you tell when you're learning someone new.
And, of course, in return, he opened up to me in a way that seemed like he had been dying to since he met me. He told me about his mother who passed away when he was young, and how his grandparents raised him and his brother, Tyler, who's quite a bit younger than him so he's always been protective. Like me, Emmett also doesn't know his father, but last he heard he has another family overseas.
When he told me that part, I had a hard time imagining how anyone could leave someone like Emmett behind. It hurt my heart, but I kept that to myself. I'm not entirely ready to admit just how he affects me.
The best part, though, was how we laughed until my cheeks hurt and my belly ached.
I quickly realized I liked this Emmett. Professional Emmett was wonderful, but to see him shed the mask and watch his glow, the parts of him that make him him, was amazing for me to watch.
And when I wake up in his bed the next morning surrounded by his scent, and hear him out on the balcony singing a song from Dear Evan Hansen, I fear that I may be royally and entirely screwed.
How can I not fall in love with this man?
I barely let that thought ghost through my brain before I toss it out entirely because honestly, Rose, that's the dumbest fucking thing you've ever thought. This is fun. Another fling. Only slightly more substantial now because you're a stupid woman who's mixing business with pleasure, but a fling nonetheless.
Throwing the blankets off my body, I stretch before I get out of bed. He has let me borrow some of his clothes, so I take a moment to roll the waistband of his shorts so they don't fall off me on the way to the sliding glass doors.
He doesn't hear me because he's singing so loud, but still not loud enough for his voice to disturb the neighbors, and seeing him standing there, glorious and completely bare save for the black basketball shorts slung around his hips, makes me feel things I haven't felt in a very long time. Something a little more than desire.
The sun has risen, but the sky is still shades of baby pink mixed in with blue and it looks glorious dancing over his tanned skin. I can see every muscle in his back and arms as he fries eggs and hash browns on an outdoor griddle presumably for both of us to eat breakfast, but I'm never hungry in the mornings and there's only one thing on my mind.
He's a beast. And watching him, getting lost in him, makes me shed any reservations I may have clinging on that we shouldn't make this physical.
Because I want him. Worse than I've ever wanted anyone. And I'd be lying if I said this was the first time I've ached for him, but it's different now because he's suddenly a possibility.
I can't remember the last time I had possibilities.
So I let my body take control as I make my way to him, quietly, and wrap my arms around his torso, pressing my entire body against him for the first time. He's warm and strong, masculine, and he smells like a place I could someday call home if I allowed it.
Again, we're not thinking about that today.
He startles for a moment, cutting off his song, but then it's like the sun in the sky makes its way through him the way he lights up when he realizes it's me.
"Well, good morning starshine. The earth says hello!" He bellows, one hand resting on top of where mine overlap over sculpted abs.
Honestly, it's like I've taken him right out of a magazine and plopped him in the middle of my vacation.
Still, his silly side forces girly giggles from my lips and I'm so not this girl, but that doesn't matter when I'm with him and that is dangerous.
"Good morning," I reply, growing bolder as my hands slip from beneath his to roam, one up and over his chest and the other down to that delicious line above his hip that leads right to where…
I know how this part goes.
Emotionally, I may be a little green—a little hesitant. But I've spent the past year owning my sexuality and my body, and when it comes to this, I don't need an instruction booklet or guidance from my girls.
The way he sucks in a breath when my thumb grazes the line above his waistband tells me I'm making all the right moves.
"I, uh, I'm making us some breakfast," he stutters, flipping an egg.
"I had a different plan for breakfast," I reply against his back. My hand replaces my thumb, diving beneath his shorts where I grip him, half hard already, and his answering groan makes me flood and fuels me.
"Oh yeah, what's that?" He sets the spatula he was using down, switches off the burner, turns in my arms and Jesus fuck, he is too damn beautiful. I can't believe my luck.
"Me," I offer, smiling up at him while my hands find new things to explore on his backside, although part of me is a little sad I'm not still gripping his cock.
For a moment, he stares at me, eyes full of hope and wonder and things I'm not ready to see yet, his own hands finding my hips, something in my chest building with anticipa —
The only alert I get before I'm thrown over his shoulder is the flash of a boyish smile. I'm squealing and pounding my fists on his back.
"What the hell are you doing?" I'm laughing and yelling at the same time, completely helpless as he carries me back into the bungalow.
"I got the girl, now I have to drag her back to my cave so we can save the human race. Isn't that how this goes?" He lands a swift smack on my ass and I yelp again, tingles shooting with reckless abandon between my legs.
He's so damn strong and it's fucking hot.
He sits me on the tiny kitchen table, only big enough for my ass so I have to lean my back against the wall, hands gripping the sides of the table to hopefully anchor me down because he's towering over me. The way he's looking at me now makes me feel like I'm about to be shot into orbit.
It's something between darkness and adoration.
Caution dances behind his eyes, but it's hidden by the sheer passion of the moment, still tinged with the playfulness from our trek inside.
Time slows, and then I realize…maybe the switch from colleagues to something more has happened fast, but this has been building since the first day he walked into my office. I've been picturing this moment, since I first laid my eyes on him. As bold as I may be, it's still hard to believe it's really happening.
"Em, please," I breathe, realizing suddenly how little air is in the room. There's too much other stuff. Heat, electricity, fucking need.
One hand comes up to my cheek, a moment of tenderness, a calloused thumb against the softness of my skin that makes my whole body hum before his hand slides back into my hair and a pair of soft, full lips meet mine with a gesture that sets my world on fire. He's tearing down my walls brick by brick, and I'm entirely helpless to it.
I feel his tongue, warm and sweet like honey, and it sets me off. My legs wrap around him, trapping him in and pressing him against where I need him most. I'm willing to wait, even though he's long and hard and ready and I'm grinding on him and gripping any part of his body I can get my hands on. Our kiss grows a little more ferocious and he bites down on my lip, making me groan and throw my head back.
Emmett takes the cue exactly as I hope and that devilish mouth of his makes its way down my neck, alternating between bites and kisses and light sucking. It's not long before I'm clawing at his shorts.
We break apart just long enough for me to rip off the shirt he let me borrow, knowing I'm bare underneath. I crave him so fucking badly I don't let myself register his reaction before I grip the back of his neck, pulling his lips back to mine.
My hands fumble, pushing the shorts from his hips, and I feel him chuckle into my mouth before he shifts his hips away enough to let it happen.
My fingers wrap around the thickness of his cock just before full lips leave my mouth to find my breasts and my back arches off the wall, whimpers falling from my lips.
Somehow we manage, through this unspoken dance, to communicate that my shorts also need to come off and the table shakes as I clumsily lift my ass from its surface to allow us both to finally be…naked.
Fuck. I'm completely naked in front of Emmett McCarty.
The worst part about it is I don't feel bad about it. Not even a little bit. I don't even feel self-conscious like I have with most of my previous partners the first time I was bare before them.
Honey brown eyes look into my silvery blue, ravenous and unleashed, a silent agreement passing between us as he spreads my legs, and without another word, he bends down and runs his tongue up the inside my right thigh, then my left. Torturously slow. Then again, but with only his lips, and one more time with just his teeth. Each second that passes makes me more and more desperate for him until I'm panting, chest heaving, positively aching for him to make me come.
"Please, please, please," I beg-slash-hiss, knowing full well he can see how desperate I am for him.
And yet he teases just a bit more, barely ghosting his lips across the center of me and it makes me cry out.
Not as much as I do when he finally relents and his tongue makes a strong sweep from the bottom of my pussy to the top and he sucks my clit into his mouth.
When he dives back in, he's determined and fierce and somehow knows just the right pressure with the perfect flick of the tongue to have my nails digging into the underside of his kitchen table while I come apart in an embarrassing amount of time. But when one hand grips my ass and the other slides two fingers onto me, expertly curling and pumping into me in tandem with his mouth, my legs start shaking and I'm coming again. Harder.
He looks up from between my legs, a smug smile on his lips with one eyebrow raised, and if I could catch my breath long enough I'd be asking him where the fuck that all came from.
"Shit, I knew you'd be a hellcat when you came, but I didn't know you'd be so fucking beautiful," he says, voice deep and wicked, lips shining as a result of what he's just done to me.
I'm not used to hearing words like that directed at me in the bedroom, but I feel it. Right now. I don't care about the rolls and cellulite on my body, or any of the other meaningless insecurities I have, because something about this man makes me feel like a goddess. Something about the way he looks at me makes me feel like the most beautiful woman on earth.
My head is spinning. Oxygen has been deprived for too long for me to form any sort of clear, coherent thought because somehow I'm so fucking grateful for the way he's making me feel, but also this hunger has been brought to life inside of me and I want more. I want to keep feeling like this. I want to find out what happens when he's filling me.
"Condom?" It's all I can manage, and if I could think more clearly, I might feel bad about it.
Luckily Emmett responds with laughter and swift response as he wipes me from his chin and stands up, forcing my eyes down to that part of him that is very prominently aching for me just the way I am for him.
All I can think is how badly I want all of that all the way inside me.
Being forced to allow him the time to walk to his bag — even though it only takes about three steps — is nearly devastating, but when he pulls out a box of condoms the size of my head, it's my turn to raise an eyebrow and it breaks my fog long enough for me to throw him a smile.
"Presumptuous, are we?" I tease.
"Not presumptuous," he corrects, ripping the top of the box off like a savage. "Hopeful."
He stalks back towards me like a wild animal ready to pounce, and my fucking mouth waters. He keeps doing that shit to me.
But when he's expertly applying the condom, I find that I'm not even looking at his cock. It's beautiful, but the look in his eyes catches me off guard. It's that same one from before, gleaming with a depth I'm not ready for but can't help but feel pummeling right toward me.
It's big. It's new. It's fucking exciting. And it's different. And right now, I realize that's enough. It doesn't need to be analyzed beyond being a little bit more than the men before him.
The choice on the matter is stolen from me, however, when he hooks his arms under my legs, pulling me to the edge of the table, and he rubs the head of his cock up my slit just the way he did with his tongue a few minutes ago.
When he enters me in one swift motion, we both gasp and then groan, our foreheads falling together in a moment to adjust to the feeling. It's so much, and it makes me hyper-aware of every inch as he pulls out and pushes back in again. It's not long before my nails are digging into his back and I'm holding on for dear life, the table slamming against the wall as I get the pleasure of finding out that this sexy as hell man can fuck as good as he looks.
Believe me, it's not always the case.
I don't want this to end, so I fight it when I feel my orgasm quickly approaching, but Emmett isn't having it. He can read my body, and every time he feels me pull back he drags me right back in.
"Look at me, Rose," he commands, and I'm helpless. He could ask me to do anything right now and I'd gladly obey. "Look at me when I make you come on my cock."
The tips of his fingers press on my clit and I break around him, my moans louder than I normally am because I can't seem to fucking control myself around this man.
"That's my girl," he croons, voice strained from trying to hold back his own release.
It feels fucking good to affect someone the same way they affect me. So good that I don't read too much into his words right now.
Strong arms wrap around me and he lifts me up like I'm weightless, and I feel like I am. Weightless, like a feather blowing in the breeze. But his cock never leaves me and my legs stay wrapped around his waist so I feel every step he takes to the bed and it's almost too much. I'm too sensitive now, but the change of positions pulls me far enough back from the edge that I'm ready for more.
Emmett falls back on the bed and I shift my legs just in time to straddle him, my hands planting firmly on his chest, and he allows me a moment to adjust before his fingers dig into my hips to urge me to move.
He's fucking stunning beneath me like this, and when I finally lift myself up to come back down on his cock, I get the honor of watching him be the one to try and cope with how we make each other feel, and it drives me to blow his mind.
Masculine grunts and groans fill the air while starving eyes alternate between my tits and my face, and it all just makes me want to never stop fucking him.
And maybe I don't have to…
I think I'm about to make him come when he surprises me and flips me over, earning another shriek from me, and his head falls to my chest as he thrusts into me.
"Never thought…" he pants, also struggling with the same basic human need to breathe as I am. "Never thought you'd feel so fucking good."
It's there that I learn a new form of time.
Emmett Time.
Because the numbers on the clock don't matter when you're so beyond lost to the way Emmett knows how to play a woman's body.
He's an expert, and as time goes on and I continue to think this may end soon only to have him pull me into a new position or to literally move me to a different spot so he can learn all the ways to fuck me, I quickly discover what the French have been talking about with la petit mort…
Because I die a thousand little deaths in that bungalow before I simply can't take anymore.
Nearly every surface in the place has been corrupted, every inch of my body marked by him, most of the marks not visible to anyone but me who knows how completely he's just altered my vision of what sex is supposed to be like.
It's like I'm floating out to sea, no land in sight, and I'm forced to ride the waves as they come.
Every man I've been with has made some sort of weird sex face. Even Royce, who looked like the perfect poster boy of the Boy Next Door until I got to know him, screwed his face up in a way that made him briefly look like a bulldog. I'm used to losing a tiny bit of respect for the men I sleep with once I see the strange shit their faces do in the bedroom.
But not Emmett.
No, when he finally lets go it's a thing of fucking beauty. Instead of shutting his eyes, he locks them with mine, mouth slightly hanging open, the most delicious growls falling from his lips, and I'll be damned if it doesn't pull one last passing out of me before we collapse next to each other.
…
"Jesus fuck," I finally say, my limbs heavy as my face sticks to his chest from all the heat we've produced.
It's been silent for a while. Since we stopped, the only sound filling our ears is the waves crashing against the shore and the seagulls screeching. It's that beautiful post-coital bliss you hear people talk about, empty heads and full hearts enjoying being in the presence of one another for no reason other than it feels good.
"Jesus fuck is right," he chuckles, his arm around my shoulder, giving me a squeeze.
"Where did you learn to do that?" I laugh, buzzed off of sex, and drunk on him.
"That?" He inquires, turning to me so his other hand is free to grab my ass and pull me into him.
It makes me want him all over again, even though my vagina tells me she absolutely cannot handle that right now. How the fuck is that possible?
"All of that was completely, and entirely new, baby."
He kisses me, and…
Well, I get lost again. Making out like teenagers on a ruined bed like we have all the time in the world.
By the time I'm finally able to break the surface long enough to look at the clock, I realize four hours have passed since we first started these shenanigans and I can't believe my fucking eyes.
"Ugh, you gotta get off of me," I laugh even though I'm once again short of breath, shoving him off of me. How did he get on top of me, to begin with?
"No, let me keep you," Emmett pretends to whine, his arms catching mine before they can shove again. He effortlessly pins me back onto the bed.
"I'll be back, I promise. But I need to get back to the girls and brag," I joke with a grin, struggling against his strength. Boy, does he have a lot of that.
"Are you really going to brag about me?" He beams, and I should've known. Stroke a man's ego and you can get anything you want from him.
"Oh, fuck yes," I nod earnestly.
"And what are you going to say?"
Cocky bastard.
"That you've effectively ruined me for all other men."
I almost feel bad about the way his face lights up.
"Really?" He lets go of my arm and sits up, still straddling me.
"Maybe. It's girl talk. Top secret. Now move," I try to buck my hips to throw him off balance, but the truth of the matter is, I am nothing against him. He has proven more than once today that if he wants me somewhere, that's where I'll be, and I love it.
"You're lucky I respect you and them enough to let you loose," he says with a dimpled grin, climbing off of me and scanning the floor for his shorts.
I get dressed back in yesterday's clothes, run my fingers through my hair in the mirror while Emmett tries to grope me, and we take way too long making out against his door before I force myself to pull away and make the walk of shame back to the house I share with the girls.
Except I'm not ashamed. Not even a little bit.
I am, however, completely starving, so the first place I head to is our kitchen, but I'm stopped in the foyer by the small but mighty Alice.
"I know that look!" She points accusatorily, "You've been freshly and thoroughly fucked, haven't you?" She takes my hand and spins me around, analyzing every inch with that scrupulous eye of hers.
"Lord, have I," I laugh, pulling my hand from her to head into the kitchen. My mouth waters when I spot a container of muffins on the counter. "Are these up for grabs?"
"Yeah, Jasper brought them over. His mom made them. Help yourself, I'm sure you need the calories," Alice winks, plopping herself on the counter of the islands.
I'm a little savage when I yank the box open, and I find the flavor of the homemade blueberry muffins makes me do a Bella-esque wiggle in my seat and simultaneously roll my eyes and let out a pornographic moan even though, frankly, my throat hurts a little.
"Well, come on," Alice pushes after a few moments. She's been staring at me, her chin poised on her hand expectantly with that familiar 'give me the tea' look I'm so well acquainted with. "Tell me all about the delicious things that made you make sounds like that."
"Fine," I say, brushing the crumbs from my hand. "But first I need a pat on the back for waiting until today to fuck him and actually taking the time to," I fake a gasp, "get to know him a little first."
"Ah! Our girl is growing up!" Alice exclaims, forcing me to choke a little on the very delicious muffin.
"Yeah, yeah," I laugh, wiping crumbs from my face. "Where's Bella at? I'm sure she'll want the dirty details, too."
"Oh, she's out with Edward," Ali emphasizes.
"Again, already? That's good!" It thrills me to know Bella is out there having fun with someone worth having fun with. "Damn. He's about to throw her for a whirlwind, isn't he?"
"He sure is. And I think it's going to be really good for her," Ali nods emphatically from her spot on the counter.
"Maybe she's not the only one with a whole storm of good coming her way," I prod, my eyebrows raised as I look at Alice.
"Oh, you mean me?" She giggles, smirking when I playfully swat at her leg.
I nod. "Jasper seems…good."
Alice nods, turning contemplative as she stares out the window to the beach. "He's incredibly good."
I can see the way she hesitates to confront her feelings about it all, that familiar look of guilt flashing quickly over her face. She tries to hide it but it's hard for her to do that around us.
"It doesn't have to be forever, Ali." I sigh, leaning on the counter next to her. "This is our break from the real world, right?"
I watch her wheels turn in her head before she nods.
"So let's just take it day by day. Island time. Or in my case, Emmett Time," I laugh again, the ache in my legs and in between them at the same time reminding me of how I spent my day.
"Hmm," Alice contemplates, then smiles. "Maybe I could get used to a little Jasper Time for now."
Extra big thanks to my girls for keeping me off the ledge while writing my first lemon in literally over a year! Hope y'all enjoyed, see you back at Lighthouse Cove Friday!