Unbroken (15 page)

Or running my tongue along his muscled torso, hungry for the salty taste of him.

Think clearly!
I order myself, before I can get lost in the fantasy of his body hard and slick against mine.
You can’t just go hurtling in there without a plan.

A plan. Right. That’s what I need. Because four years is a long time. We’re not kids anymore: I’m on the edge of my future here, and I need to know where this is going. If there even is a
this
to go somewhere. Will it be any different this time around? I know I’m a different girl to the one he knew back then, and even from the few short conversations we had this week, I can tell, he’s a different man too. Harder. More demanding. It thrilled me, but part of it scared me too. I pride myself on being careful and cautious now, and aside from the crazy stupid things I’ve done in the last few days, I know that isn’t just going to melt away the instant I see him again. So what makes me think I could even risk my heart again, if I had the choice?

The miles slip by, and still, I don’t get any closer to the answers. But as I drive headlong towards all this confusion and uncertainty, I realize that I don’t feel stressed, or worried anymore. I’m breathing easy, a flutter of excitement in my stomach. The closer I get to Cedar Cove and Emerson, the more right I feel, like I’ve been charged with a magnetic force, and everything’s pulling me to my North Pole. Arguments and questions and all these thoughts rattling around in my mind—they fade away the nearer I get to him, drowned out by the vision of his eyes, and lips, and the sweet, hot anticipation of finally being in his arms again.

By the time I cross the bridge, and head through town, I feel like every cell in my body is alive—calling out to him in a deafening chorus of desire. I planned to head back to the beach house and pull myself together before calling him, but as I pass Jimmy’s Tavern, my body has other plans. As if my hands are possessed, I suddenly yank the wheel around and pull a screeching U-turn into the parking lot.

I stop the Camaro with a jolt, breathless. Now I’m here, so close, all my nerves come flooding back. Just because he called and wanted to talk, it doesn’t mean he’s not mad at me, or wants to work things out. He could still be furious about Daniel, or—

Enough delay, get your ass in there!

I scramble out of the car before I can change my mind, not even stopping to check my reflection in the rear-view mirror. I slam the door behind me and cross the parking lot in quick strides, my nerves doing a crazy dance in my stomach.

I push open the Tavern doors and step inside. It’s early afternoon, so the place is pretty empty: just some guys in the corner playing pool, and a few people eating at booths along the wall. I sweep my gaze around the room, eagerly searching for any sign of him. I don’t even know if he’s working today, I just know I can’t wait a single more minute to see him: I’m so pent up with nervous anticipation, it feels like I’m going to shatter into a thousand pieces.

I walk deeper into the room, still looking around. And then I see him.

His back is turned to me, and he’s delivering some food to the corner booth. I freeze, every nerve in my body sparking to life as I drink in the sight of him. He’s wearing a red T-shirt that hugs every muscle of his broad shoulders, and his worn jeans drape perfectly from the curve of his ass.

Even just the back of him is enough to reduce me to a fluster. I feel my skin blush, and I have to fight to catch my breath.

Then he turns and sees me.

Emerson stops. He takes a moment, just staring, like he can’t believe it’s really me. Then his expression changes. His eyes darken, and the look he gives me is so full of hunger that I feel it slam right through me, liquid hot desire flooding right to my core.

Oh God.

I feel my legs buckle, as Emerson abandons the dishes on a table and crosses the floor towards me in long, purposeful strides. I open my mouth to speak, but he doesn’t pause a second, he just grabs my arm and pulls me after him towards the back of the room. I let out a yelp of surprise, but he doesn’t slow, he doesn’t relax his grip on me for a second, not until he’s dragged me behind the bar and into a small storage room at the end of the hallway.

He slams the door behind us and backs me up hard against the wall, still holding me in an iron grip. I gasp to catch my breath, a thrill shooting through my veins. The length of his body is hot and hard against mine, his face just inches from me. I can feel the pulse of his heartbeat, and heat of his breath on my lips, sending shivers through my body with each ragged gasp of air. Even in the dark of the room, I can see the desire burning in his eyes, the light of a thousand fires raging, threatening to consume us both.

“Tell me ‘no’,” he demands hoarsely, echoing the question he asked just two nights ago. Then, I didn’t have the strength to answer, but this time, I dig deep into the last reserve of control I have and breathe my reply, the word falling from my lips in a moan of pure, desperate desire.

“Yes.”

Emerson’s eyes flash with victory, and then there’s no time left for coherent thought because he’s closing the distance between us, his lips coming down to claim me in a devastating kiss.

I fall, completely.

His mouth demands everything, and I answer with all I have to give, reaching hungrily to tangle my fingers his hair and claw at his shirt, desperately pulling him closer, deeper, into me. Emerson’s body slams against mine, and I groan into his mouth, our tongues entwined as we plunge deeper into the intoxicating sensation of this kiss. I have no boundaries anymore, no sense, nothing holding me back from the demands of his body and our lips and the deep liquid pool aching low in the center of me. My breasts are hot and swollen under my shirt, and just the pressure of his chest pressed against me is enough to send ripples of aching pleasure through my body, but it’s not enough.

I’ll never have enough of him.

Emerson breaks the kiss, licking a blazing trail down the tender skin of my neck as his hands rove wildly across my bare flash. I tear at his T-shirt, finally pulling it over his head as he rips my blouse open and buries his face against my chest with deep groan of pleasure.

Oh God. I slide my hands across the glorious warmth of his bare shoulders, gasping as his tongue dances across my breasts. His hands gently squeeze and mold my flesh, pushing the flimsy fabric of my bikini top aside until his mouth finally closes over me, and then I’m gone. My head falls back, drowning from the pleasure of his tongue and the firm, wet rasp of sensation flooding across my skin. He gently licks and nibbles at me until I’m desperate, aching against him, and then he finally he closes his lips around my nipple and sucks, hard.

Holy hell!

A foreign cry rips from my lips, but he doesn’t stop, he just turns his attention to my other breast, teeth gently scraping the sensitive nub until I’m mindless with frustration and deep, aching desire. I’m liquid, helpless, every heartbeat drumming out a desperate plea I feel throbbing to the very core of me.

Emerson lifts his head. His eyes are two dark pools of desire, a clouded night’s sky. He catches his breath a moment, unsteady, and then drops a kiss on my lips. Sweet. Almost tender. I barely have time to take it in before he grabs my shoulder and spins me around, pushing me this time so my bare chest is slammed up into the wall, my cheek pressed against the cold concrete.

I gasp, my heart skipping with the thrill. I can feel him up against me, a solid wall of muscle trapping me in place, the hard ridge of him pressed against the small of my back. I can’t move, or see the expression on his face, only hear the hoarse groan Emerson sounds as he twists a handful of my hair and yanks it to one side, kissing a searing trail along the curve of my neck.

I whimper, bound and powerless against him, and
oh God
, loving every minute of it. His hands roam around to my front, across my breasts, tugging and teasing at the tender flesh before they slide down my stomach with heart-stopping intent. My legs give way, and I sag back against him as his fingers slip beneath the waistband of my skirt and under the thin lace of my panties, blazing a determined trail to the tight, aching center of me.

“Emerson!”

I hear my desperate cry as if from far away, through the rush of blood pounding in my ears. The world doesn’t exist anymore, nothing does, even my body has been reduced to just gasps, and pleas, and the desperate ache that won’t be soothed until his palm slides firm over me and his fingers find my tender flesh at last, and curve up to push inside of me.

Oh!
I shudder against his hand, whimpering and twisting in his iron embrace as I frantically thrust against the rhythm of his fingers, shivers of pleasure spiraling out like silver cobwebs across my skin. Emerson groans, and I feel the deep vibration of his voice against my neck as his fingers press, and tease, and flutter inside me, and then he pulls free and I cry out, empty and aching until he finds me again, thumb pressing down with a new pressure that makes my knees give and my body ache, and my bones cry out for release until finally the endless slow build becomes a deep surge and with one last hard spiral of his fingers I shatter against him, falling into the velvet darkness.

When I surface, gasping, I’m hanging against him, Emerson holding me up with those solid, muscled arms. I catch my breath, shockwaves still shooting through me. I’m reeling from the intensity of my release, adrenalin coursing fierce hot sparks through my bloodstream. Emerson turns me back to him, claiming my mouth again with fevered kisses as he backs up against the opposite wall. Objects fall from the shelving, crashing to the floor around us, but we don’t stop. I couldn’t even if I tried. He fumbles with his belt, breathing labored against my mouth, and I push his hands aside to unbuckle him, shoving down his jeans and underwear, shocked at the hunger still clawing deep in my stomach even as my orgasm slips away.

More. Now. Mine.

My fingers close around him, hot and hard, and I feel the jolt of Emerson’s body as he lets out a growl of ragged desire. Power surges through me at the sound, and I look up to find his head tipped back, mouth open and groaning as I gently tease and stroke him in my palm. His eyes snap open to find me watching him. He reaches for me, but I duck back, and sink to my knees on the hard floor.

“Jules,” he gasps, reaching out to brace himself against the shelving as I lower my head and find him with my lips. I slide my hands down across the hard ridges of his abs and around to grasp the chiseled contours of his butt as I lick slowly along the shaft, tasting him, teasing him. He’s soft and salty, so familiar, so
Emerson
, it fills me with a blissful sense of calm. It feels like the most natural thing in the world to trace and lap at him, running my lips down his length and then swirling my tongue gently over the sensitive part near the tip. Emerson’s whole body shudders in response. He clutches mindlessly at the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair, and it sends a fresh wave of exhilaration through me. Now it’s his turn to be undone, to feel helpless, to be totally at the mercy of my touch and tongue and slow, agonizing exploration.

I pull his body closer and finally take him into my mouth. Emerson lets out a groan as I suck deeper, finding my rhythm, loving the feel of how his body trembles and jolts under my fingertips as I let my hands roam across the hard ridges of his skin, tracing slow circles on the tender patches just below his hipbones, drifting down the solid trunk of his legs, and up the inside of his thighs to tease and stroke his balls.

“Jules,” he gasps, tugging at my hair, trying to get me closer, go deeper, but I pull back, teasing now, whispering delicate kisses along the length of him until he’s begging for me, the sound of his heavy, desperate panting filling the dark room. I tease him for an age until I finally take him in my mouth again, my lips running tight against him, angling deep and slow as I feel his whole body seize above me. His breath catches, and I feel him flinch beneath my tongue, jerking and strung out and totally at my mercy.

“Jules,” he gasps again, a desperate warning. He tries to move my head away, but I push his hands back and take him deeper instead, sucking long and hard even as I hear him cry out a guttural moan and feel the hot spurt of liquid in my throat. I swallow him down, feeling the rush of pure power as his body unwinds under my hands, hard flesh and muscle and bone turning liquid as he sags back against the shelving and finally slides to the floor.

I raise my head to look at him, sprawled on the ground in front of me. He’s gasping for breath, his beautiful face looking dazed and wild-eyed and totally undone.

I did this.

CHAPTER NINE

Emerson slowly pulls his jeans back up. He looks at me, and then shakes his head, a look of wry amazement on his face.

“Jesus,” he says, still panting. “Are you trying to kill me?”

I grin, smug and satisfied. He laughs, and reaches to pulls me against him, into the crook of his arm. I go, relaxing against him, my pounding heartbeat drumming a fierce song against his; his bare chest hot and sweaty against mine.

Slowly, our breathing stills. I close my eyes, safe in the dark world of his embrace, and let the waves of sensation flood through me. I feel fucking incredible, every nerve and cell shimmering with golden triumph, like I could leap tall buildings in a single stride, like I could dive off the edge of the world and spread my arms wide and fly.