I love the sound of high heels. Nothing sounds better than a woman dressed to the nine’s, her feet encased in tight, slender materials, as she marches her way to wherever she’s going. Heels symbolize Power. Sassiness. Sexiness.
Heels are my fucking undoing.
Especially on her.
It makes sense, I mean, Superman has kryptonite and I have...I have women’s shoes.
Emily saunters the last few steps before resting in the space between my legs.
“Let’s just say I didn’t pack them for dancing.” She utters, her long, black lashes seemingly never ending.
God, give me the strength to hold off on my threat of gagging her with her own underwear. At least until we get back. What is she wearing under that fabric anyway? Lace? Silk? Or maybe cotton, like the pair she had when we were in the tunnels?
I close my eyes for the briefest moment as she twirls, giving me her back. I wrap my arms around her waist and hold her close. Her shoulders tighten and the tips of her slender fingers dig in to my thigh as I lean in close and brush my lips against the shell of her ear.
“Watch yourself, Kitten. Don’t think I won’t kick everyone out and bend you over this countertop.”
She turns her head, twisting until her ear is replaced by her soft cheek. “Is that a threat?”
I hold her tightly in my arms, squeezing her just enough to aid me in getting my point across.
“That’s a promise.”
She twirls in my arms again, my heart increasing in tempo when she stops, her nose brushing mine and her chest resting gently against me. Strangely, she sways slightly in my arms, as if her ankles are moving on their own. That’s when I notice the slight heaviness to her eyelids and the drunken curl of her lips.
How is that even possible?
“Emily? Are you drunk already?”
Emily pulls back, focusing her dark eyes on mine. “I am certainly not drunk.”
I frown. I’m definitely not buying that.
“I mean...I may have been drinking for a little while longer than everyone else, but I’m not drunk.”
“How much longer?”
“Not long.” She glances at the clock. “Since six p.m.”
“That was over two hours ago. How is that even possible?”
“Joel came up to check on me while you were out on your run. He brought booze and I drank it.”
“Why?”
She avoids my eyes. “Because I wouldn’t be able to face you otherwise.”
“I’m confused. Did I do something wrong?”
Emily cringes, expressing another visual display of the nausea and stress she feels inside.
“No. It’s not you, it’s me. I needed the booze because...because I...shit. This isn’t how I imagined this would go.”
“This isn’t how you imagined what would go?”
She opens her mouth only to clamp it shut as a hand slaps against my shoulder. You’ve got to be kidding me?
“You two ready to roll?”
Emily pulls herself out of my arms and I turn my head to face Ted. Unsurprisingly, his wide, cheerful grin falls when he sees my expression so I’m guessing I don’t look happy.
“Shit. Did I interrupt something?”
Ignoring him, I blow out an exhale and reach for another shot—a double—the one in the big blue glass—and I tip it down my throat.
On the other side of the kitchen, Emily focuses on her own breathing exercises as she pours herself a cup of chilled water. She drinks it quicker than I drank my shot of booze. What was she going to say? A million possibilities run through my mind and the only one that keeps coming back, like an annoying fly, is the one involving Huss. Why do I keep sandwiching them together in my head? I don’t know. Maybe it’s because Huss is slimy and I don’t trust him. Or maybe it’s because Emily has a long list of insecurities. She’s always putting me on a pedestal, always boosting me up while putting herself down. She sees herself as a woman who is unworthy of me and she sees me as a man who is using her—a man who is exploiting her body because she’s the only choice I have. It’s not true, I know that, but that’s how she works. That’s how her brain works.
To me, it’s simple.
I love her—and not because she’s the only female caught up in this gigantic fuck of a mess with me. I’d tell her how I feel, but it’d only arm her with another insecurity to use against herself. If I’m being honest with myself, her insecurities terrify me. I’m terrified that if I tell her I love her she’ll panic. She’ll panic and fuck the whole thing up by sliding into bed with someone she’s familiar with—a personality that has fucked her over a million times. That’s comfortable for her because it’s what she’s used to. It’s why I don’t like Huss sniffing around—even if he claims he’s only kidding.
It’s like they say; behind every joke is a hint of truth. If that’s true, I guess that makes Huss one honest motherfucker.
Eight
****
Fallen
Emily
My heart pounds. My nerves are shot. They vibrate through my entire body from the epicenter of his index finger as it swirls in tiny circles halfway up my inner thigh.
Heat flares, scorching me.
My blood thins, making my brain roll in my skull.
I’m incredibly turned on—unbelievably aroused.
I suck in an inhale, but it does nothing to ease the burn in my lungs. He’s close to me—so close I can taste his cologne in the back of my throat.
I came to terms with being in love with Jai today and since that moment, everything about him had multiplied tenfold—his touch, his smell, his voice—They’re all now a part of a unique passcode to my body. Unless you’re him access is denied.
I swipe at the thin line of sweat bubbling along my top lip and hit the window button. Cold air blasts my face, instantly freezing the tip of my nose, but it feels good.
It feels great.
I pull my black jacket around my shoulders. I’m happy I decided to put a warm jacket and thick leggings on underneath my dress before we left. It’s so nice inside the lake house, I forget it’s as cold as a snowman’s asshole outside.
Sucking in one last inhale, I pull up the window before the cold air manages to turn my nose to ice. As the glass slips tightly into its socket, a howl of laughter tears through the car, signaling the end of Ted’s story. I’m glad I missed it. I don’t think I can stomach hearing another descriptive monologue of his penis as it enters a vagina. He’s proud of his sex stories—it’s as if he fucks just so he has something to talk about. I’d hate to be one of the girls in his stories.
Ted reaches around the driver’s seat, extending his beer to Huss who, by someone’s stupid decision, is the designated driver. I don’t know whose idea it was to make the guy who has been abusing his pain pills drive the car—not to mention he has a broken arm, bruised ribs, and a whole lot of stitches. If the stress of not telling Jai I love him doesn’t kill me, then I’m certain Huss’s driving will. That being said, I’m glad I have the window seat. Jai kindly switched out so I didn’t have to be sandwiched between him and Ted—which, if I’m being honest, wouldn’t be such a bad thing under different circumstances.
Huss shrugs Ted’s bottle away. “I’m driving, asshole. I don’t fancy being in another car accident any time soon.”
“You’re a police officer.” I point out peering around Jai to look at Ted. “You should know the law.”
With a hearty laugh, Ted rolls down his window and tosses his bottle of beer outside. It whirls away. Whether or not it smashed on the asphalt, I have no idea.
“I’m dying tomorrow.” Ted announces. “Fuck the laws!”
He unclips his seat belt and moves toward the window. My heart leaps into my throat as my stomach heaves.
“Ted—” I reach across Jai, but he catches my hand.
“You’re wasting your breath.”
He threads his fingers through mine. My stomach twists painfully and my hands grow clammy. Jai notices and squeezes my hand tighter. It doesn’t help. All I can do is watch as Ted drunkenly climbs out the window and sits on the door, his feet resting casually on the back seat. I can barely put up with sitting correctly in my seat with my seat belt on. How can he be outside the vehicle while it’s moving?