Eventually we can’t stand it anymore, and his pace quickens. It’s just enough to quickly push me to the edge, and I feel him moving there right along with me. Unexpectedly and all at once, we find ourselves digging into each other’s skin as our bodies pulse together in perfectly-blended bliss.
We’re speechless and fighting sleep by the time our orgasms are over. I don’t want to move or say anything. I am out of it, still stuck in a lingering sex haze, but I think he is still inside of me as he lays on top of me. I want to stay like this forever—where it’s just the two of us with nothing from the outside threatening to come in between. It feels like this is how we are meant to be. We’re both perfect when it’s like this.
Emmett and I are as close as any two people can be, bonded by tragedy, hope, and loss. He clings to the hope that he can run his father’s business differently. That he can do things right and stop this town from being so fucked up. I cling to the hope that he can do all of those things and not crack under the pressure. I am scared of seeing him become the same kind of man his father was. Scared that there is no other outcome for people like him in Jameson.
If I could just get over this jealousy towards Vivian, I could be there for Emmett in the way that he needs me to be. But I'm afraid that letting go of my jealousy is a mistake. Then, maybe I will miss it when he begins slipping from my fingers. I don't want to be surprised. I want to see that hurt coming from a mile away. I don't think I could handle it if it snuck up on me. If I just walked into school one day to see the two of them back together, with me being the last one to know. I need to let go of it for Emmett's sake, but I cling to it for my own protection.
“I don’t want to be safe with you, Ophelia,” he explains desperately. “Maybe that’s where we keep going wrong. You keep trying to make this small and comfortable, and it’s not. We’re too much for that.”
The sound of Emmett’s voice is smooth and deep like honey, and it has the magical ability to instantly shake me to my core. No matter what I think I have my mind made up about, it flies out the window the moment he says a word. I’ll try to hold strong to whatever I’ve decided, but his voice carries on like a hammer to glass, and I always inevitably break. All of the feelings I have for him come flooding out in a big, overwhelming gush, swallowing us both whole. The release of it takes my breath away every time, and he is always left looking to me for more.
“You get off on it when things are fucked up between us,” I answer decidedly.
“No, we feel too much for it to be safe,” he shoots back. “That’s what I’m saying.”
“So, what do we do?” I ask, my voice drenched in fear.
“We hold on as tight as we can and never let each other go,” he says softly. “Hold onto each other for the ride.”
“Looks like I held on to you too tight,” I snicker against his arm, my finger trailing circles around the scratch marks running down the sides of his body.
“Good,” he says boldly. “I want to be branded by you. You can mark me up as much as you want.”
“I’ve had my fair share of marks from you, too,” I note resentfully, cringing at the slip.
“And you’ll never let me forget it.” He sighs.
“Probably not,” I reply truthfully. “I don’t know that it’s fair for either of us to forget.”
“Then how can you be with me?” he asks. “If you still think about it all so much.”
“That’s what I keep asking myself.” I shake my head, looking hopelessly to the ceiling above. “Maybe it’s not so bad for me to remember. Doesn’t it say more about how I feel about you? That I’ve been able to move past it and see you for who you are now?”
“But have you moved past it?” he asks, as if he already knows the answer.
I don’t want to tell him the truth. That I am always secretly waiting for that side of him to return. It has, though. I’ve seen it. He hasn’t been perfect. I just don’t know which side to believe—if the bad will always resurface, or if eventually, he can learn to move past it.
Emmett looks at me desperately, as if our lives are hanging on this moment as he moves inside of me again. He trembles against my body in breathless moans. I keep my hands planted on either side of his face, guiding him back and forth, letting him know that I am right here with him, feeling everything he is feeling.
“You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” he mouths to me.
I swallow hard from the pressure. I wanted to be the center of Emmett’s world. Part of me has always secretly wanted that, even if only as a way to escape his tormenting. Now I am, and I don’t know if I can bear it. The weight of it crashes down on me, and I feel like I might suffocate beneath it. But he sweeps my lips back into his, and I am lost again, unable to care about anything but him. That’s how quickly he makes me forget that I have a choice, and I relish in the freedom of it. His prison feels like freedom. I know it’s wrong and messed up, but I can’t feel any other way. We belong to each other.
“I want to do everything to you, Ophelia,” he murmurs in the darkness. “I don’t think I could ever get bored of your body. I want to do everything there is to do to it…and once I’ve done it all, I’ll start over and do it all a second time.”
I shiver against his words, growing wet all over again. “That could take quite some time,” I warn him jokingly.
“Planning on going somewhere?” he questions, raising his brows at me.
I hesitate in my reply, hating to kill the mood. “Well…Emmett…there’s college and everything,” I remind him. “I mean, who knows what will happen. I want to be with you, but…we don’t know what the future holds. I don’t want us to make promises we can’t keep.”
“Go to college near Jameson,” he suggests cavalierly. “Or go wherever. I’ll fly to come see you.”
I laugh out loud at how easy he makes it all sound. “And what about you?” I ask. “Do Jamesons not have to attend college?”
“Not really.” He shakes his head. “Not when we take over things this young. My advisors will hire private tutors from top institutions—enough to satisfy the requirements for a degree. Anything from an ivy league school that can be framed and hung on the wall above my desk for business meetings. That’s all I really need.”
“What?” I gape. “Are you serious?” He shrugs and looks away. “That’s so fucked up. Isn’t that basically just buying a degree?”
“Basically,” he says quietly. “But that’s how we’ve always done it.”
“There are a lot of things your family has always done that you were hoping to change,” I remind him. “What about what you want? Was there anything you ever wanted to go to college for? Even if it was just to learn a new skill or enter a new field?”
“Never had time to think about it.” He shakes his head, pursing his lips. “There was no point. I always knew that wasn’t going to be an option for me. If my dad was still around, I would have gone off to some ivy league campus, but I basically would have just been fucking around until he was ready to retire.”
I try not to think about how deeply his entitlement goes, overriding something as basic and fundamental as a college education. But for some reason, my brain is still stuck on the fact that he is planning our future. He intends on staying with me enough that he is talking about flying out to wherever I am if I go to college somewhere else. I can’t deny the giddiness rising in my chest at the thought of it.
All at once, both of our phones start buzzing with incoming messages, breaking us from the space we fell into together. We give each other a knowing look. Whatever we just experienced was important, but we can’t hide here forever, no matter how badly we want to. We have to go back to the surface and face all of it.
As we are putting on our clothes, Emmett comes closer and pulls me to a stop. We’re both standing there in nothing but pants, bare chested, when he puts his arms around me and begins to sway to the music playing from his phone in the background. I love feeling the warmth of his skin against mine as I melt into him and match his movements. For a brief moment, we’re frozen like that, dancing slowly in the middle of the room. I wish it didn’t have to end.
16
Chapter Sixteen
Emmett and I peel ourselves away from one another and reach for our phones. The messages from my mom aren’t as bad as I expected. She’s not angry, she just wants to know when I’ll be home. I tell her it should be soon, but Emmett cries out as he goes through his beeping phone.
“We have to go right away,” he tells me sternly as his eyes glow against the screen in the dark.
“Go where?” I shoot back. “What’s wrong?”
“To my house,” he demands, as he keeps one eye glued on his phone and begins reaching for his clothes with the other. “Come on, I’ll explain in the car.”
I slip into my clothes, struggling to keep up with him as he bolts for the door. He’s in such a hurry, I feel like he might leave me here if I’m not fast enough.