"Bed," I mutter against her lips.
"No. Here. Now," she demands.
Fuck. She's going to kill me. I shift our weight and lay her back on the couch, following her down so I'm hovering over her. My hoodie has ridden up to her waist, exposing those linen shorts and miles of smooth, tanned skin. I kiss her again, slower this time. Deeper. Savoring it. My hand slides up her thigh, squeezing the firm muscle there. She gasps into my mouth, her hips lifting toward my touch.
"Tell me to stop. Last chance," I say against her lips.
"Don't you dare."
My hand moves higher, teasing, taking my time even though I want to rush until my fingers brush the hem of her shorts. She arches into my touch, her breath coming in short pants.
"Emmett ..."
"I've got you, Trouble." I slip my hand under the fabric and find her wet and wanting. So, fucking wet and ready for me. Holy fuck. "So, fucking perfect," I growl, circling her clit with my thumb while sliding one finger inside her. She cries out, her back arching off the couch, her hands fisting in my T-shirt hard enough that I hear the fabric strain.
"Quiet," I warn, even though I love the sound. "Unless you want the neighbors to hear how good I'm making you feel." She bites her lip, nodding, but when I add another finger, stretching her, she moans again. Louder. I capture the sound with my mouth, kissing her as I work her with my hand, slow, deliberate, building the pressure the way I remember she likes. The way she responded in London when I took my time. Her hips move against me, seeking more friction, more pressure. I give it to her. "That's it," I murmur against her lips. "Take what you need." She's panting now, her chest heaving, her skin flushed. She’s close. I can feel it in the way her body tenses. The way her walls flutter around my fingers, the way her nails dig into my shoulders through my shirt. I adjust my angle, curling my fingers, hitting that spot that makes her see stars.
“Oh God," she gasps. "Emmett, I'm ..."
"I know. Let go, Trouble. I've got you." She shatters, her whole body trembling, her walls clenching around my fingers as she comes with a broken cry that she muffles against my shoulder, her teeth grazing my skin through the fabric. Fuck. She's beautiful like this, completely undone and mine. I work her through it, drawing out every last wave of pleasure untilshe collapses back against the couch, breathing hard, her eyes glazed.
She looks up at me, cheeks flushed, lips parted. "That was ..."
"Not done yet." I kiss her again, slower this time, my hand sliding out from her shorts, making her whimper at the loss. I bring my fingers to my mouth. Taste her. Her eyes widen then darken. "Fucking perfect," I say. Then I'm kissing her again, settling between her thighs, she can feel how hard I am, how much I want her. Need her.
"Emmett," she breathes, her hands sliding under my shirt, her nails dragging across my abs, leaving trails of fire. I groan, grinding against her. The friction is almost too much.Almost not enough.I need her.Now.My hand moves to the waistband of my sweats, and I’m about to push them down, about to finally ...
Then three sharp knocks at my door.
We both freeze.
Time stops.
"Emmett?" A female voice calls from the other side of the door.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
Collette.
The color drains from Joelle's face. "Shit." She scrambles off the couch, pulling down the hoodie and adjusting her shorts with shaking hands.
I sit up and run my hand through my hair, trying to calm down, trying to think and get my cock under control. "Just a second," I call out. My voice rougher than I intended.
Joelle's panicking and looking around like she's trying to find somewhere to hide.
"Bathroom," I mouth, pointing down the hall. She nods and disappears, her footsteps quick and quiet. I take a breath and adjust myself, which is still painfully hard as hell, and attemptto look normal even though I'm anything but. I head toward the door and open it.
Collette's standing there, phone in hand, a worried expression on her face. "Hey. Sorry to bother you." She's looking past me. Trying to see inside. "Have you seen Jo?"
"Jo?"
"My sister. She's not in the apartment, but her phone and keys are there. I'm worried she went out without them and got locked out somewhere."
"She's here."
Her eyebrows shoot up. "Here?"
"She got locked out earlier and has been waiting here for you. We didn't hear you come home."
