“So beautiful,” Wade murmured.
Emory sucked in a breath as his hand slid beneath the hem of her camisole and cupped her left breast. The pad of his thumb skated across her nipple, clever fingers twirling it into a tight peak. She wanted to enjoy the sensation, but her brain kept trying to intervene.
He settled her backside on a table near the wall. It was dim and almost private. Half a dozen yards away Emory could hear the pleasurable moans of another couple engaged in the ancient ritual of hot, sweaty sex. She wondered if Alex did that kind of thing after hours.
A flare of heat moistened her pussy, an ache beginning to throb in time with her elevated heart rate. She squirmed on the tabletop. This wasn’t the time to dwell on what Alex did or didn’t do. Wetness seeped from her pussy, coating the insides of her thighs in slick juice. She’d never been this turned on before in her life. Unfortunately it had nothing to do with her partner.
Wade captured her lips, sliding his tongue into her mouth. His taste was spicy Crown Royal and something else unfamiliar. She tried to focus on the desire she wanted to feel. The sensation of knowing there was more to come. Something shattered in the back of her mind and darkness bloomed. The confidence she’d felt around Alex just a few moments before evaporated as if it had never been.
Wade slid his hands down her torso, skimming over her belly to the waistband of her cargos. Emory inhaled deeply, forcing herself to be calm as Wade unfastened her pants. Soon he would slide them down, spread her legs wide, and press his cock deep inside her body. She’d long ago decided that was the only way to get over her past. It was what she wanted, wasn’t it?
Emory’s breath hitched as though someone had poured ice-cold water down her back. Her body stiffened reflexively. Memories tumbled forth over the barriers she’d so carefully erected against them.
“Everything all right?” Wade rumbled.
“Wonderful, just hurry up and take off your pants.”
The intense anticipation was gone. She’d thought this would be different. No commitments, no promises, no possibility of betrayal. This was supposed to be casual—no strings and no tomorrow. A white-hot stab of anger accompanied the realization that her psyche didn’t care.
Wade didn’t take off his pants. The lust had already drained from his expression. Inwardly, she cringed in humiliation. He would see that something inside her was wrong, that things had changed since the moment she’d agreed to this impromptu liaison.
“You don’t want this, sweetness,” Wade murmured.
Something cracked inside of Emory. Tears stung her eyes, burning hot tracks of embarrassment down her cheeks. Wade was wrong. She did want it, more than anything. But her brain and her body couldn’t get over the past. The blackness surged higher, pounding her with a lifetime’s worth of her father’s abusive treatment. It was a litany of angry words and prophetic curses that had permanently damaged her ability to accept physical touch.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?”
The concern in his voice made it worse. “I’m really sorry. It’s me, not you. Could you just leave me alone?”
He said something before turning away, but she’d already shut him out. Sliding off the tabletop, she crouched on the floor with her back to a support pillar. Hiding her face against her knees, Emory began to rock back and forth, humming to herself.
There was a maid, who had two babes
All alone and lone
She killed those babes and buried 'em under a stone
An' prayed to th’ Lord, it would never be known
All down by th’ greenwood side
Eventually her humming pushed back the anxiety. She got slowly to her feet, feeling embarrassed. Any vestiges of her alcohol-induced courage were gone, along with her buzz. Maybe Chris was right. Maybe Emory would spend the rest of her life as a victim, with nothing but her mother’s song and her father’s condemnation to keep her warm at night.
Alex braced his bent elbow against the wall and stabbed his free hand through his hair. He idly wondered how long it would take for Wade to finish fucking Emory. It couldn’t be that long. The guy had never been the marathon type. Not like Alex, who could go all night and then some if the woman was sweet enough. And nothing like Connor, who’d been known to go all night and half the day with Jessa.
Whatever the answer, how ever long it would take, Alex didn’t want to be present to find out. That alone was enough to make him consider impending insanity. But he couldn’t get the picture of Emory’s intense brown gaze out of his head.
Sucking in a deep breath, he pulled away from the wall and rolled his neck, shaking his shoulders and trying to get back to normal. If normal were possible any longer. What was normal anyway?