Special thanks to Pamela for pre reading and to all of you for enjoying and reviewing! xx
-38-
Rose
July 13, 2023
Lighthouse Cove, Maine
"We only have two more days," I whisper against Emmett's chest, my breath causing the few hairs there to tickle my nose.
I like that he's manly enough to have a little hair, but not like a lumberjack level forest.
Although, Emmett with a flannel and some suspenders…?
File that away for the spank bank later.
The blankets are gathered low around our waists, my bare chest pressed against his side in the perfect little pocket that feels like it was made just for me.
"Mm, sucks, doesn't it?" He rasps, his voice thick with sleep. "Getting back to the real world blows balls. Someday I'm gonna live somewhere where the beach is always right out my back door and I can hear the waves when I fall asleep at night."
"That sounds nice. With a porch and a swing so you can sit out and watch the storms roll in?" Mentally, I swap the you out for we and I like the thought of being on a porch with Emmett. I like dreaming with Emmett.
"Only if I have someone to watch them with," he's the one whispering now, tightening his arm around my shoulder.
"Are you almost done trying to sweep me off my feet now?" I deflect, my finger making its way down the center of his chest.
He shivers beneath my touch, peeks an eye open and one corner of his mouth lifts to show off a single dimple. "I don't know how you haven't figured it out, yet. That's an endeavor I'm never going to stop. Unless you want to issue official marching orders, I hope you wore the right shoes for sweeping."
"There's no space for the paperwork on Island Time," I urge with a scrunch of my nose. It's my way of telling him he's getting too close, but I also don't want him to go anywhere.
I want Emmett. That's not a question. The questions now lie in the fucking logistics of it all, and every time I let my mind try to start navigating that minefield, my body rejects it.
She's not ready.
Between my job now being this huge question mark, my mental health damaged and bruised, my pieces barely fitting back together just yet…
I'm not strong enough to withstand Hurricane Emmett.
I can't give him a worthy partner right now. He deserves a worthy partner.
"Well, that's just not gonna fly today," Emmett states, shifting so he's on his side. The leg I had thrown over his adjusts to lay over his hip, opening me up to him in a way that makes me very aware of the things he can do to my body.
"What's not?" I breathe, skin itching for his hands to be on me.
"That gorgeous mind of yours ruining our time." As if he's reading my mind, one hand ghosts down my back, over the swell of my ass where he kneads and grips, spreading me and pulling my body against his at the same time. "There will be plenty of time to come up with a list of all the things that can go wrong when you're home. Right now, come sit on my face so I can make you forget all that."
His words make me flush, heat spreading all over my body and bringing it to life with that ravenous need he always fills me with.
"Did I stutter? On my face. Now." His hands disappear and I ache to have them back, but he's already staring at the ceiling, two fingers crooking in invitation.
This is new.
I'm a little awkward as I get up on the bed, swinging one leg over too low on his chest so I have to scooch myself up until my knees are planted on either side of his head. There's still too much space separating us, but I'm caught up in the look in his eyes. Has anyone ever looked at me from this angle before? I can't imagine it's a good look.
Emmett scowls and his head turns, nipping the inside of my thigh before he soothes the bite with his tongue.
"Stop fucking thinking," he growls, his hands gripping my thighs and pulling me down on him. I fight it, afraid to put my full weight on him, but he's too fucking strong and he forces me all the way down, his mouth closing over my pussy and scorching me with its heat.
"Fuck!" I cry out, throwing my head back while my fingers find purchase on the headboard.
Emmett is relentless with his tongue, strong, repetitive sweeps pushing my higher and higher. My hips buck uncontrollably, grinding against him and if the sounds he's making are any indication, he loves every second of it.
His arms are unwavering vices against my thighs, restricting my ability to pull back from the intense pleasure he's causing me. It's a lot. It's too much. Especially when he chooses the exact perfect moment to strike the right chord in my body and he sucks me into his mouth, forcing me to clamp my hand over my mouth so I don't wake the entire house with my undoing.
"Fucking…fuck," I huff, my body slouched over him in sated exhaustion. I attempt to shift my hips to allow him some oxygen. Oxygen I'm sure he needs desperately by this point. Except his grip on me hasn't eased in the slightest and I find I'm incapable of moving.
"Give me another," he rasps against my pussy, tongue lazily lapping up my juices and sending tiny little zap, zap, zaps through me.
"I don't think I—"
I yelp when he bites me again, this time just right next to my pussy.
"You can and you will, come for me again, Rose." Emmett dives back in, and then his arms finally release me. I'm about to move off of him, but he grabs my ass instead, urging my hips forward until I'm well and truly riding his face.
I come for a second time and then I'm flying, lifted up into the air in a way that defies physics. Somehow I wrap my legs around Emmett's waist, my arms winding around his broad shoulders and I bury my head in the crook of his neck, savoring how he feels against me.
Who knows how long I'm going to allow myself to have this.
"Any objections to fucking on the balcony?" He asked, his dick bobbing against my pussy with every step in a way that almost makes me want to giggle.
The slats on the balcony are close enough together that no one would really see anything, as long as we're careful.
"Not in the least. Just keep me quiet," I whisper against his skin, giving my own bite.
"Good. Because I want the whole fucking world to see how beautiful you are when you fall apart on my cock." Emmett swings the door open and I climb off of him in a haste, suddenly a little embarrassed to be out in the open like this in broad daylight. Not a human is in sight, but I still lean down, turning to face the ocean and planting my arms on the ledge. If someone were to look up, all they would see is a girl leaning on her balcony. Nothing to see here.
This position gives Emmett a spectacular view of my ass, and when I look over my shoulder he's standing still, pure and utter awe all over his face.
Wetness drips down my thighs, a mixture of him and me, and I know he can see it perfectly. Like a pristine shot from a Pornhub.
I'm impatient, craving to feel him deep and pulsing, hungry for him to take me, so I adjust. Spreading my legs shoulder width apart and arching my back, pushing back to send a crystal fucking clear message.
Fuck me.
He's on me in an instant, one hand holding my hip while his other guides himself into me. I gasp when he sinks in, nails digging into the wood of the balcony as his free hand makes its way up my spine. His fingers thread into my hair and he grips, pulling me back against him every time he slams forward.
It takes everything in me not to scream, and whimpers fall from my lips until the hand in my hair has migrated and is now clamping down over my mouth.
He hits me deep and hard, again and again, somehow not making a sound and then suddenly he changes the angle on me just a bit and pleasure crashes over me like the waves on the shore in front of me, pulling me into its depths.
But of course Emmett doesn't stop. His stamina is unmatched, and he sees me through several more orgasms before he finally decides to take his own release.
Luckily there's a chair on my balcony and he crashes into it, pulling me down into his lap. I draw my legs up, feeling his arms come around me, and it's more than post-coital bliss that pulses through me.
It's…freedom.
This unshaking knowledge that the person you're with understands you. Your body, your mind, your spirit. Understands your hopes and dreams in a way that you don't quite understand yourself.
It's trust.
Trust that Emmett isn't going anywhere.
He'll be there any way I need him to be, helping me reach for the horizon even when it's been so long since I've seen the sun.
…
I declared nap time after Emmett and I came down from our little romp and I enjoyed a delicious breakfast, my thoughts too heavy to allow them to continue.
Well into the afternoon I drift out of dream land, my hand sleepily creeping across the bed. Stretching, stretching, seeking the warmth that is Emmett.
I find none.
Opening my eyes, I see that he's gone, my sheets rumpled in an outline of his body.
"Yeah, I'll…although she…do what I can," I hear a voice from behind me, unable to hear the whole sentence through the door that leads to my balcony, where Emmett stands with his phone pressed to his ear.
Part of me wants to eavesdrop and find out more about what he's talking about, but instead I reach for my own phone and check my notifications, getting lost in videos the girls had been sending to the group chat.
When Emmett comes back in, I'm giggling like a fool at a video of three elderly ladies, one of them falling down. It's not that old ladies falling really does it for me, but I can clearly picture the girls and I when we're their age. Old and tired of giving a fuck about anything except each other, the people we've spent most of our lives with. And when one of us falls, it's one hell of a show watching the others try to get up.
But we'll always be there holding out a helping hand, even if we're yelling "Ah hell, what'd you do that for?" while we're at it.
Once I wiped eyes to clear the tears my laughter brought, I look at Emmett who's smiling like he won the lottery.
"If you had any plans tonight, clear them," he demands, tossing his phone onto the bed.
"What? Why?"
"Decode is playing at an open mic night on the mainland." Emmett retrieves his clothes from the floor while he speaks, putting them back on and it makes me sad. That shit should be outlawed, his gorgeous body never permitted to be hidden from the world.
"Okayyy…" I drawl, momentarily forgetting about how this man's looks could create world peace. "That's cool and all, but I fail to see why you're so excited."
"Oh, that doesn't matter right now," he says, waving his hand. his hand.
"Sure it does, tell me!" I beg, shooting to my knees on the bed.
I'm still naked, so of course his eyes drip their honey all over me and if I didn't want answers so badly I'd be all over him again.
"Rose, what's rule number three?" He asks, now fully dressed.
My mind flashes back to his speech in front of the lighthouse and I grin. "Don't underestimate you?"
"Exactly. Get dressed. I'll text Carlisle."
It's a bigger deal than I care to admit that I do as Emmett asks of me without any further argument or questioning.
I'm the girl that wants all the answers before I walk into a situation. I need the who's, how's, where's, what's, and why's all laid out for me so there's no shock; no opportunity for anxiety.
With Emmett, I don't need all that. The security he provides me allows me to be a little more spontaneous. To enjoy life for all its excitement and wonder. To find the good in the unknown. Nothing can happen to me because Emmett has quickly become my safety net.
So, I get dressed. Tight jeans and a cute top, my hair curled and smokey eye makeup ramping up my silvery blues.
If we're doing a night out on the town, we're going to do it right, so I line up shots for us to take before we leave. Together, we toss them back and we're on our way.
By the time we hit the shores of Brighton Bay, the buzz is starting to creep in and I'm giddy being on Emmett's arm.
The night life is buzzing, too, for a Thursday night. Week days don't seem to matter much during summers in a beach town.
Soon, Emmett is pulling me into a hip looking bar that's much bigger on the inside than the out, equipped with a stage and a freaking mechanical bull.
"How much would you pay me to get on that thing?" I yell to Emmett over the music, giggling as we weave between tables.
"A month's worth of coffee. Two months of you copy what you do up there on me tonight," he quips, finally settling on a table and pulling the seat out for me.
Such a fucking gentleman.
"Get some food in my belly and a couple more drinks and I may take you up on that offer. The real question is, what do I gotta do to get you up there?" I prop my chin on my hands, quirking a brow up.
Emmett thinks about it for a second, a slow smirk coming to his lips. "Baby, I don't think you're ready for what you'd have to do."
"Try me," I challenge.
"Go on a date with me next Friday."
Next Friday. As in…after we're home.
After Island Time is over and the clock ticks on in the real world.
When life isn't easy anymore and I have a whole new pile of shit to figure out.
My heart is beating out of my fucking chest, panic settling in at the thought of being on this huge precipice that could have me falling to my doom.
But…I have a safety net.
One I can't stand to hurt.
"Okay, but," I start, holding up a finger.
"Shit, I hate buts."
"You love butts."
"I do. Particularly yours, but that's not really the point here. You were saying?"
"Oh yeah, the but…But there can't be any expectations. I don't know what my life is going to look like, Emmett." My hand drops to cover his on the table. "I can't tell you what we're going to look like until I do."
"Good enough for me," he beams, twisting his hand in my palm to squeeze mine.
"Promise? Promise me you don't feel like you're settling or something?"
"Rose, I'm not expecting you to dedicate your life to me when we're not even officially a we. Have you ever dated before?" He teases.
"Not in a fucking long time!" I laugh.
"I can tell," his chuckles join my own. "All I want is for you to keep being in this with me. Let's keep seeing where it takes us."
"What if I break your heart?" I whisper, the fear forcing me to be suddenly serious.
He pauses, his eyes looking to the stage where they're setting up audio for the night, then finally back to me. "Then I'll be happy to know we were able to make some fucking beautiful music together."
…
"Ahh, I can't believe you got her to come!" Sasha squeals, throwing her arms around me the same time she plops in the chair next to me.
My eyes widen and dart to Emmett, what the fuck written all over my face as I awkwardly pat Sasha's back.
"My love, ever the subtle one," Eleazar croons, sauntering up on the other side of me.
"What do you mean 'got her to come'?" I inquire, gently urging Sasha back to look at her wild eyes.
"They just didn't know if I would be able to get you away from the girls," Emmett interrupts.
"Oh, pish posh. What's the point in lying to the girl now?" Sasha waves her hands around, then settles them on my knees. "Darling, we made magic the other day."
"Pure magic," Eleazar repeats.
"We released a clip on TikTok and it's blown the absolute fuck up," Sasha continues.
My eyes dart between her, Emmett, and Eleazar.
"That's great! I'm glad you guys are getting the recognition you deserve," I say, Sasha's hands coming from my knees.
"Yes, it's wonderful, of course, but…well everything is sort of picking up, you know? We've always done everything on our own, and it's been great so far but with hundreds of thousands of hits, it's bigger than we can manage right now."
"Okay, yeah, I can see how that could be overwhelming," I nod along, sensing she's not done with her schpiel but completely lost on why she's telling The me this, of all people.
"So overwhelming. So, we were talking to Emmett about the tour we're gearing up for. We want him to come along and document it. We'll have a videographer, but he'll write articles and sort of be an unofficial publicist, if he agrees. But as we were talking about all this, the sweet baby angel, he just could not keep singing your praises."
I look back at Emmett, who's leaned back in his chair like he's watching a show unfold in front of him. The rim of his beer bottle is pressed against his lips, hiding the shit eating grin on his face.
"He told us all about your work at the radio station. How you're a boss at coordinating and making connections, and people love you and want to bend over backwards for you—"
"Oh, I don't know about all that," I scoff.
"Don't be modest dear, I'm trying to offer you a job here," Sasha says casually, her hand patting mine.
My jaw hits the fucking floor.
"A-a job?" I stutter. "What kind of job?"
"Eleazar, Emmett, gather in, we're about to make history, here." She waves her hands and the boys lean in, all three faces holding this hope and expectation that I don't know what to do with.
"We would like you to be the new band manager of Decode."
Ex-fucking-scuse me?!
