Craving Him Page 8

“Oh.” She dropped her chin to her chest.

“Hey.” I set the carton of milk on the counter and stepped closer, tipping her chin up to meet my eyes. “We’re not going to hide what we have from her. We have no reason to tiptoe around her.”

She inhaled deeply. “You’re right. It’ll just be hard. I haven’t seen her since . . . you know, everything went down. . . .”

“I know. But I’ll be right by your side the whole night. Braydon will be there, too. We could even invite Ellie, make a night of it. It could be fun.”

She nodded, a little smile curling her mouth. “Yeah, okay. I’ll ask Ellie about it. We usually don’t do much besides catch up on TV shows on Sunday night anyways.”

“Come here.” I opened my arms and Emmy willingly walked into them. Pulling her against my chest, I hated the way her mouth had pressed into a firm line at the mention of Fiona’s name. I wanted to take away all her painful memories and make new ones that made her smile. “You sleep okay?” I wanted to get back to a lighter mood between us. Things had been too tense lately.

She nodded, wrapping her arms around my waist. It was no coincidence that I’d left my shirt off. I wasn’t going to pressure her into sex, but hell, I was still a guy and the idea of tempting her a bit was just too much to pass up. Her little hands skittered up my sides over my ribs. Then her fingers dug in and twisted, tickling me.

“Ah! Hey now . . .” I stepped back out of her reach. The little brat.

She laughed softly. “I wanted to see if you were ticklish.”

“Yeah?” I stepped in closer, narrowing my eyes. “You sure you want to get into a tickle war with me?” I crackled my knuckles. “Because I can be ruthless, baby.”

Emmy lifted an arched brow and took a step back. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh I would.” I stepped closer to her then stopped myself. “I’ll give you a head start.” My eyes flicked to the bedroom then back to her, mischievously. Emmy took off running. Her ass looked so f**king cute, filling out the boxers in a way I never would.

Sprinting to the bedroom, I found her perched on the bed resting on her knees, pillow in hand like she was ready for battle. I liked seeing her playful side. As soon as I got close enough, whump, she hit me square in the chest with the pillow.

“Uh-oh, someone’s being a naughty girl.” I reached out to remove the weapon from her hand. “Let’s just place this over here.” I dropped the pillow to the floor beside the bed and climbed toward her like a cheetah stalking a gazelle. A sexy f**king gazelle. That I wanted to nail. Badly.

Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip again and she watched me approach.

In a single quick maneuver, I had her on her back. I pinned her wrists above her head, my body holding hers hostage with my weight on top of her.

Emmy, now restrained against the bed, only had the use of her legs. She wrapped those around my hips, tugging against me. “You think that’s going to help you get away?” I whispered.

She pulled in a shuddering breath, growing quiet. Her eyes were huge, watching mine, waiting to see what I’d do.

The feel of her body struggling against mine, her soft breath tickling my neck, her hips bucking underneath me . . . shit. I was hard. And the thin athletic shorts provided very little in the way of a barrier. Her body froze midstruggle as awareness hit her. The entire mood of our playful wrestling match changed in an instant.

My erection nudged at her center.

Emmy whimpered.

Fuck, so this little thing liked being restrained. That information was not helping. I needed to keep my mind out of the damn gutter.

Emmy pressed her hips up, grinding against my dick. Fuck, that felt good. I needed to explain to him that he couldn’t go in there. In that warm, tight channel . . . yeah, thinking about it was so not helping. I held my breath, waiting for the sensation to pass. I counted backward from ten. I thought about sports, math equations, world hunger . . . yeah, nothing was going to help this monster of an erection. I wanted her. Bad.

I imagined ripping off her shorts then pushing down my own and sinking into her. Right here, right now. I’d f**k her slowly, holding her wrists in my hands. I’d f**k her until she was moaning out my name. My c**k twitched in my shorts. Shit. It was either f**k her senseless or walk away. I couldn’t take this torture.

“I’m going to, um, shower. Then I’ll drive you home.”

She nodded, wordlessly, her breath coming in little gasps.

And I was going to jerk off in the shower, too, but she didn’t need to know that part.



When the car was just around the corner, Ben sent me a warning text that he was almost here. I called out to Ellie, who was still in her room getting ready.

“I just need two minutes!” she called back.

I shoved my feet into the beautiful black Christian Louboutin platform heels that Ben had given to me in Paris. I loved these shoes. I felt sexy anytime I was wearing them. My deep purple dress was modest, falling to the knee with a bisecting cut on top that showed just a small peek of cle**age.

I looked out the window and saw a long black stretch limo rolling to a stop at the curb in front of the building. “They’re here, Ellie.” I added my long, black trench coat, shrugging it on over my dress. There was no getting around the fact that winter was almost here, and I’d choose warmth over sexiness every time. Hopefully the event had a coat check.

“I’m ready.” Ellie sauntered from her bedroom in a pretty dark-gray dress that looked soft and black suede wedges. Her hair was twisted up in a sleek bun and she’d ditched the glasses for contacts. Her lips were stained a dark berry color. She looked incredible.

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