“Emmett,” I call, and it’s a warning—a plea.

“Let go. You’re fucking perfect like this,” he whispers against my ear. “Come for me.”

And I do.

The world fractures around me as I unravel—pleasure crashing through me, wave after wave, until I’m trembling and gasping and completely gone.

My body goes soft and pliant in his hands, but he doesn’t stop. He groans and buries himself deep with one last, fierce thrust.

He shudders, forehead dropping to the back of my neck, breath coming in ragged bursts as he follows me over the edge.

I can feel him thicken, seize, and fill me. His cock pulses hot and hard from inside.

Several seconds pass like this. The two of us, fused together, struggling to catch our breath.

We’re still pressed together, his arms wrapped tight around my waist, my body molded against his like he never wants to let go.

Quiet. Safe.

He slowly comes down, his breath growing even against my shoulder, his chest rising and falling against my back. One of his hands slides up, fingers brushing over my ribs, softer now. Reverent.

Like he’s still holding something fragile.

“You okay?” His voice is gentle, nothing like the man who just broke me wide open.

I nod, still catching my breath. “Yeah. Just… recovering.”

A laugh rumbles in his chest, and he presses a kiss to the base of my neck. It’s not rushed, not heated—it feels an awful lot like adoration.

He eases from me, both of us hissing at the loss.

His seed slips out, trailing down my inner thigh, and all I do is sigh.

There’s something satisfying about the sensation. He must agree, because when he steps back, I peek at him over my shoulder and find him staring at my leg.

He groans before reaching forward to drag two fingers over my inner thigh and up to my tender pussy.

I gasp at the feel, only to drop my forehead against the wall as he pushes his cum back inside me. He’s endlessly gentle, but I still feel the delicious sting.

“There. That’s better,” he mutters, voice brimming with possessiveness as he slowly removes my dress.

Then, without another word, he scoops me into his arms like I’m weightless and carries me across the cottage to his shower. He puts me down and turns on the spray, gripping me against his bare chest. After he tests the water temperature obsessively, he grunts his approval and steps inside, lifting me with him and squeezing me firmly.

I don’t protest and curl into him, my cheek resting on his bare chest, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear.

For a while, we stand in silence, steam rising around us as we bask in the feeling of skin on skin.

Then he speaks.

“You’ve got me in knots, you know that?” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “You show up on my farm with that mouth, that attitude, like you’ve got everything figured out. And then you look at me like you see me—and you like what you see. Even when I’m at my worst, acting like an asshole, doing this stupid show, dragging you down with me. None of it makes sense.”

I lift my head to look at him. He’s staring into the spray, jaw tense, like the words cost him something.

A specific L-word is on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t want to scare him. Not when he’s already shaken by the depth of whatever we’re building here.

“I do like what I see,” I say quietly, dragging my lips across the water droplets dotting his chest. “You’re worth it, Emmett.”

His eyes cut to mine, incredulity shining in them. It makes me wonder if anyone has told him he’s worth fighting for.

“I told you, I’m not scared of you. I’m not scared of this.” I tap a finger on his chest.

“You should be.”

I shake my head. “No, Emmett. You’re the only person here who doesn’t realize there’s nothing to fear.”

His breath catches.

But he doesn’t deny it.

He just pulls me tighter against him, like maybe, just maybe, he’s not ready to say the truth out loud—but he doesn’t want to be alone with it anymore either.

So I let him hold me.

Then I let him fuck me again.

And again.

And again.

OceanofPDF.com

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER 37

Emmett

I OPEN MY EYES to Julia pressed against me, and I decide that it’s my favorite way to wake up.

Her head on my chest, her arm slung over my ribs, and her legs tangled with mine. Merged against each other as warm summer light filters through the slatted blinds in harsh lines.

She’s warm and tan. The lines from her tank top straps crest over her shoulder and leave the perfect swooping line on the tops of her breasts. Her hair is curly and loose—just the way I like it.

Visions of last night hit me in flashes. Her bent over, her spine stretched before me. Her riding me, breasts bouncing, lips plush and full after sucking my cock like her life depended on it.

I feel like a teenager again. Like everything we’ve done together is a first.

It is in a way, seeing as how I’ve never felt like this before.

I stroke her hair, reveling in knowing that it’s Sunday, which means we have nowhere to be—no faking it for the cameras. Just this. Soaking her up. The feel of her chest pressing against my side as she inhales. Her breath fanning across my chest as she exhales. Her heart beating sure and even.

It thuds in time with my own, and I reach for her wrist, pressing my fingers against her pulse point. I can’t explain why, other than there’s something about feeling how alive she is that grounds me.

It tells me this is real and that she’s actually here.

“You having second thoughts?” she mumbles, catching me checking her pulse like a total weirdo. “Wishing I were dead so that you wouldn’t have to deal with the morning after?”

I chuckle and pull her tighter. “I’m just… I don’t know. Making sure you’re real?”

The apple of her cheek pops as she smiles against me. “I am real, and I am alive even though I’m pretty sure you tried to fuck me to death last night.”

“Jules, babe, you kept saying faster. All I was trying to do was keep you happy. Live up to the reputation. Keep the dream alive.”

She snorts a laugh, kissing my chest as I drag her so that she’s laid out right on top of me.

“Ah, yes, the man, the myth, the legend. He’ll fuck you so hard you’ll need your pulse checked.”

“You’ve got quite a mouth on you. Lying here acting like you weren’t the one begging for it last night.”

She shrugs. “It was okay.”

I nip at her neck playfully. “Keep running that mouth and I’ll find something better for you to do with it.”

She laughs, body rumbling against mine. “Unless you’re putting food in my mouth, I’m not interested.”

I trail a hand up her side, smiling at the ceiling. Mostly marveling at how someone like me ended up here with someone like her.

So fucking lucky.

When my fingers hit her ribs, she jolts, letting out a light, sleepy giggle. And I don’t know what comes over me, but I do it again.

“Emmett,” she squeals, trying to grab my hand.

But I can’t help myself. I’m happy. She’s got me feeling less serious than usual.

I tickle her again, eliciting another squeal as she writhes and tries to get off me.

“Emmett Brandt, you watch your fucking hands!”

“Oh, I’ll watch them all right. Watch them go right here.” I flip us, leaning over her and going straight for her armpits.

She laughs. She gasps. I watch the tip of her nose wiggle. A dimple pops on her cheek as I tickle her. Her breathless giggles turn to hysterical cackles.

On one hand, we’re both acting like children. On the other, this is perfect.

She’s fucking beautiful. Laughing in my bed with nowhere to go.