Razorblade Kisses(90)

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Dancing with the Lies we Tell



With her workload, the next Saturday morning came quickly, creeping through her blinds and tickling her eyelids. Emery yawned and stretched, feeling the familiar ache of missing him, but the him now was Tim, not Noah. It had been a week since Emery left Tim at the park with the promise that she would hurt him. He hadn’t called, texted, or stopped by. She’d been busy, but missed his arrogant comments and easy company. She wondered if she’d finally scared him off enough to be done with her. It’s probably for the best.

She’d enjoyed the last few months, the teasing, touching, and feeling somewhat normal, but all that had to come to an end. At least she did it before he meant even more to her. Or was it already too late? His absence felt like a part of herself was missing already. A buzzing of emotions lay just beneath her surface when she was with him. Her heart felt bigger, fuller, stretched… She didn’t know what that meant, but she’d never felt it before.

The last time he was over he’d left a shirt at her house; she’d been sleeping in it. Emery was afraid for her sanity. She hardly knew this guy and just wanted his nearness; she felt the absence of his smile and laugh when he wasn’t around.

The silence in her apartment was shattered when the buzzer sounded. She looked at it, puzzled.

“Yes?” she asked, but only heard the door open. “What the hell?” She hadn’t let anyone in. The knocking on her door startled her and she froze. Hoping there wasn’t anything to be scared about, she leaned her eye to the peephole. She ran her hand through her hair in either frustration or relief, she wasn’t sure.

Stepping back from the door, she opened it. Tim was standing there in his uniform with a bag of food in his hand. He gave her a lopsided smile and walked in without asking permission.

Emery shut the door and leaned her forehead against it, then watched him walk around like he owned the place. She tried to rationalize why he was here and what she should say. When she turned around he was there, in her personal space, his eyes clouded over with desire.

“I like that you’re wearing my shirt to sleep in, Emma,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. He lifted her off her feet and wrapped her legs around his waist.

She moved her head away from him, looking into his eyes, and cocked her head to the side in confusion. He claimed her lips and slid his tongue into her mouth. Her body ignited at his touch.

Tim kissed her jaw, then tugged her earlobe into his mouth and moaned. “Emma…what this week did to me…God, you wouldn’t believe.”

They stared into each other’s eyes; hers full of longing and confusion, his of desire and determination.

He sighed and started walking toward her room. “I’m going to fuck you and then take you to my favorite place on earth,” he growled as he threw her on the bed.

Emery gawked at him as he tore off his uniform in record time. Indecision gripped her; she’d pushed him away and he came back. She’d kept her distance and he kept bringing her back to him. When she was with him, she felt a pull and a knowledge she wouldn’t say no to him. Ever.

“Tim—”

He cut her off by pulling her over to the edge of the bed by her ankles, then grabbing her shirt and ripping it over her head. “I need to touch you everywhere. I’m not…” He stared at her. “I can’t help myself.”

He grabbed her panties and pulled them down her legs, throwing them in the same direction as his shirt. He buried his face between her legs and she jerked at the suddenness of it.

“Oh…my…” she groaned and disappeared from the room at the apex of her undoing.



All she heard was the buzzing of the tires over the asphalt as she and Tim made their way to who knows where in his truck. They were driving over the Talmadge Memorial Bridge into South Carolina. Emery put her arm out the window and let the wind blow her hair back from her face. The morning was chilly and the sun was just rising, sitting on the edge of the earth like a yolk.

Tim took a right on a heavily wooded road and drove several miles before turning onto a long dirt road. The Spanish moss dripping from the trees looked straight out of a movie.

“You sure you want to be out here all day? You must be exhausted.” Emery watched the landscape as they moved deeper and deeper into the woods. When he didn’t answer her, she spoke again. “You’re not driving me here to kill me, are you? This is like out of a movie or something.”

Tim stopped the truck next to what looked like a cinderblock house. “This is it,” he said, getting out of the truck. He stretched and took out the thermos of coffee Emery had made that morning for him. He took a sip and spat it out immediately.