When I Was Theirs

68. Jared

68

Jared

S he’s definitely up to something.

I can tell. Wiping down the kitchen counter, I toss the cloth into the sink and rest my hands against the sides, gripping them tightly.

We’re getting there.

I’m getting there. I don’t know why I feel so… restless. Blowing out a breath, I listen to the sound of Emmy moving around in the bedroom after her shower.

And then I try to think about something else. Anything else.

Scrubbing my hands down my face, I go for my bag instead of walking in there after her, pulling out a notepad and searching for a pen.

Lesson plans. A distraction.

There is nothing stopping you.

I can’t find a pen. “Em? Have you got a spare pen anywhere?”

“In the sideboard,” she calls back. “Middle drawer.”

Grabbing a black pen from the open packet, my fingers brush something smooth. I glance at it briefly and then away, before my eyes return to it.

Carefully, I lift it out.

The glossy picture of Brazil is clearly pulled from a magazine of some sort. But that’s not what catches my eye. It’s the small note, scribbled in the corner.

One day.

The curling letters stand out as Emmy’s handwriting.

“It’s getting late,” Emmy murmurs. “Come to bed.”

I close the drawer, turning to her. “Em—,”

Shit.

She leans against the door, her arms crossed. One eyebrow raises, a slow smile curling her lips. “See something you like?”

I’ve seen her in a hundred different outfits at this point. Every single version of Emmy makes my heart beat that little bit faster.

But this one… my mouth goes dry.

She lifts her foot, rubbing the material against her other leg. “I forgot to do my washing. You don’t mind, do you? I’ve never seen you wear this one.”

Vague memories of putting clean pajamas in her drawers float away into the back of my mind like confetti on the wind. I shake my head. “I don’t mind.”

The words are a croak.

She’s wearing my shirt. The soft white cotton is buttoned over bare skin, several buttons left undone at the top and giving me a glimpse of the curve of her breasts. Emmy’s hair is loose, caramel strands trailing over her shoulders and curling gently. The shirt brushes the tops of her thighs, leaving miles of creamy leg on show, and my groan slips free before I can stop it.

The small smile on her lips grows. “You’re staring, Jared.”

Of course I am. “Because you’re fucking beautiful.”

And mine . My cock hardens behind my sweatpants.

I’m holding my breath as she steps forward. Emmy walks up to me, her hands slipping around my waist and her cheek pressed to my bare chest.

Listening to my heartbeat.

I almost think that’ll be it. That we’ll head to bed, curl up together. But she turns her cheek, and I inhale as her lips press to my skin.

Another, a little higher. Emmy presses her body against mine, warm and soft and inviting. “Touch me. Please .”

I’ll never say no to you.

Not when she sounds close to begging. She never has to beg for me.

I’ll get on my knees for this girl. Every time.

My hands spear into her hair, tilting her face up. Em sucks in a breath, her eyes widening.

I press my lips to her forehead. Lower.

My lips trail across her cheeks, traveling over her scars. Each and every one. The fleck at the corner of her left eye.

The freckle beneath her right.

My breath ghosts against her lips. And then I move on.

Em shudders as I tilt up her chin and press my lips to the soft skin underneath. I lose myself in tasting her, my tongue flickering out to trail over the pulse in her neck.

Our breathing is the only sound as I pull back. Her blue eyes are glazed. “Jared?”

“I want to make you feel good.” I trail my hand through her hair, rubbing a silky strand between my fingers. “Can I?”

At her nod, I drop down.

Kneeling in front of her.

My hands wrap gently around her ankles, before I push them up. My palms skate up, over her knees. Higher.

Brushing the edge of my shirt. “Seeing you in my shirt does things to me I can’t explain, Emilia Marsters.”

She swallows. “Thank God. Because I was running out of ideas.”

Cheeks flushed, she watches as my fingers trace the cotton.

“Not everything,” I clarify softly. Needing her to understand, before this goes any further. “Not yet.”

Not until I stop feeling like deadweight, holding her back.

She lets out a shuddering breath. “I want everything.”

“So do I.” More than anything, I want that. My thumb rubs circles into her skin. “I’m nearly there, Em. I promise. Think of this as a… taster.”

Her lips quirk up. “Is that a euphemism for something?”

Absolutely. “Put your hands on my shoulders.”

Her hands grip me tightly, and I push my hands up. Underneath my shirt, my hands brushing against the softest curls. “You fucking undo me. Every single time.”

My hands reach around, tapping the cheeks of her ass. “Leg up, baby.”

She’s trembling as her leg lifts up. I hook it over my shoulder before steadying her. “Hold onto me.”

My arm wraps around her as I spread her open. Emmy is shaking. “Look at you. Soft and pretty and glistening for me.”

She whimpers .

I want to hear it again. That needy little sound.

My face buries in her pussy, my tongue lapping up every taste of her. First in low, slow strokes, then in small flicks over her swollen little clit.

I kiss her the way I’ve wanted to since the first time I saw her. With everything I have.

Her hands spear into my hair, pressing me against her as she bucks in a silent plea for more, and I fucking love it. “Fuck. Don’t stop.”

I won’t. I’m not sure how I’ll ever stop.

My teeth scrape gently over her before I seal my lips around her clit and suck in soft movements. She bucks, my arms tightening around her to hold her still. “I can’t—,”

Then don’t . I can’t speak, but I pull back slightly, my tongue trailing down before I bury it inside her. Fucking her with my mouth.

Her cries, the feel of her fingers tugging on my hair – I could come just like this. My own hips twist as Emmy unravels, her breathing harsh and sobbing. My name on her lips.

I chase every last drop as she shakes around me, holding her tightly until she’s twisting in a silent plea for restraint.

Gentle, slow laps, easing her down before I pull back. My face is soaked. “You okay?”

She nods, still panting. Her legs are quivering, her look dazed. “I…uh…,”

My smile is nothing but pure satisfaction. “I need your words, baby.”

She nods woodenly. “Good.”

Good?

From where I am, it’s easy to tip her. A startled shriek slips out as I stand with her over my shoulder. “Jared – what the hell?”

I tap her ass before rubbing it. “Good? I can do much better than good.”

Emmy is a warm, pliant weight as I carry her into the bedroom, her hair trailing down my back and tickling my skin. “If you do any better than that, I won’t survive it.”

She bounces on the bed, and I follow her down.

Her lips tilt up in silent question. She scowls when I kiss the tip of her nose instead. “You just spent a good fifteen minutes kissing me down there, but my mouth is off limits?”

“Yep.” She lets out a startled noise as I sit back and grab her ankles, tugging until she slides down the bed. “But I promise I’ll make up for it.”

Three times, in fact.