Double Dare (22 page)

He went upstairs next, leaving her alone with the selfish thought, and it wasn’t long before she called a taxi service. Tobias did worry. He also lectured. Although it was annoying, it came from a good place and only a few things shut him up. The car came twenty minutes later, and Emma left her house to be Emmaline for a little while. Selfish, but today she was done being good, sweet Emma.

*****

When Tobias answered the door, Emma tsked. “I was wrong to call you Couch.” She paused, thought for a moment. “You always wear black. Head to toe. Like you’re about to do a little breaking and entering.” He blinked and she grinned. “So, B and E, what are you doing at this time of night?”

Emma pushed past him. He stepped back with ease. At least Josh hadn’t completely lied. She had to keep her legs stiff because his house smelled like heaven. The aroma reminded her of him and of this morning. Her reaction, visceral and stark, cut quickly at the heart of the matter—she wanted him more than anything she could ever remember craving. Getting a hold of herself, she toed off her shoes and dress socks at the door.

He asked in a wary tone, “Lucky, what are you doing here?”

Emma handed him the leather jacket, and he took it without question. She moved right along to the stairs, letting this heady feeling of doing something for herself, doing something so outside herself, propel the moment into something more.

“Well, whenever I’m in a frenzy, I wish there’s someone there to taste what I’m making. It’s so damn lonely.” In a nonchalant manner, as if she did this every day in front of him, she unbuttoned her shirt. “I don’t begrudge the results. Late Night was created when one of those frenzied bake-athons hit me.” She let the shirt drop onto the first stair. “But if there was someone I could talk to maybe I wouldn’t have an off night. Like the one where I called you a pigheaded bastard.”

He gripped the jacket, but followed her up the stairs like a man. She smiled, because that took it to twice in his life where he forgot what he should do and did something primitive.

“A pigheaded,
tasteless
bastard,” he said. “You also called me passionless.”

Halfway up the stairs, she unhooked the slacks she’d worn and let them slid down to the steps. “I did. I can only take back the passionless part.” He was bearing down on her so she hurried up the stairs, reaching behind to unlatch the black-lace bra. “So what had you in a frenzy, B and E?”

“Lucky,” he growled, moving faster now. The jacket was still clutched in his hand. “What happened to your friend?”

Like before, she ached for him in her heart and much, much lower. “She’s sad, but it’ll be easy for her to deal with the outcome.”

He paused, and she could see his ears perked up on something in her tone she didn’t know had been there. She wiggled out of her underwear. Tomorrow she’d deal with the cracks in the cement.

“Your brother came over and told me you were in this state. You know, the bleeding heart in me…bled.” A grin whipped over his face, and she laughed. “I’ve come to care for you a great deal. I consider you a friend.”

“You do?”

“Absolutely. We have inside jokes. I can depend on you to call me on my B.S.” A smile pulled at her lips. “Even when I feel exposed you make me feel better. With that said, you were in a crisis and I think I know why. So, I’ve come over to comfort you.”

“You are a good friend.” He stood so still Emma was sure if she touched him he’d shatter.

“I am. That’s how we met isn’t it? Me being the good friend. Selfless. Me wanting the other person to be happy.” She cupped her breasts and then moved her hands down to her hips. “How about we replay that night?”

From the top stair, he tossed her the jacket. She slipped her arms into the soft, comfortable leather. Just like before, but this time in her best Marilyn Monroe voice she said, “Kiss me.”

His mouth twitched and those midnight eyes didn’t have to undress her. “Are you crazy? This is crazy.”

“No, stupid as hell.”

It was, Emma acknowledged to herself, because she was on the very brink of falling for him with or without her earlier rationalizations. She wrapped herself deeper into the supple leather and pushed back the lapels to place her hands on her hips once again. She said the next line with all sincerity. “But what’s a woman to do?”

And then he was on her. She let him lead her to his room. The long hallway was cut in half with his hastened pace, but his mouth never left hers. The urgency vibrated off him, strumming through her.

Tobias did everything he hadn’t that first night. There was nothing G-rated in his touches. At some point he rid her of the leather jacket and before Emma knew it, she was in his room, in his bed and on his sheets. The texture was soft and inviting and cool against her hot skin. His hand cupped her mound as his palm rubbed against her clitoris. She rocked against the roughened skin.

“Be still,” he murmured against her lips and slipped his tongue into her mouth. His hand and mouth took up the same rhythm until she moaned out his name. “Why are you naked?” he asked when she came.

“For you,” she said.

He tsked against her ear and brought her to another climax. “Emmaline, wrong line. It’s ‘Long story.’ Get it right.”

She opened heavy lids and met his gaze. “I lied. The story is simple. I want you inside me. The end.”

Tobias undressed above her, taking less than a second to open a drawer, and then he was back sheathed and nudging her slick entrance. She let her hands roam over the taut muscles on his arms and chest, because unclothed he was a sight to behold.

“What happens next?” he asked.

She lifted her hips off the bed and he slid inside her with the motion. “We stop talking.”

His thrusts were hard and deep. He trembled over her, breathing heavily for a couple of moments, until he caught his breath. He started to move again and the usual calm and stoic man was lost with every stroke. Each groan was followed by a nip to her flesh. His hands roved every bare piece of skin while his mouth worshiped her.

Tobias’ actions told her exactly how he felt about her in his bed. And in his bed she felt like his prey and he the predator. He stroked and stalked her, forcing each violent climax until Emma was mindless with him and because of him.

How could she ever believe he showed no expressive emotion? For him to touch her was to know him. She never wanted to leave his bed if it meant having to use words again. If it meant having to decipher a look or a ghost of a smile.

Emma knew her place with him as he brought her to another climax and met her there. There wasn’t a doubt. There wasn’t a need to explain. There wasn’t an expectation he had to meet that he hadn’t already exceeded. He knew how to touch her, how hard, soft. Fast or slow. Shallow or deep.

No words were needed.

Breath and energy spent, he pulled her over him, and Emma allowed herself to weave the fantasy of him being
her
Prince Charming, if just for that night.

*****

Emma stirred and could tell from the darkness spilling through the bedroom’s window morning had yet to break. Tobias hummed deep in his throat and his hold tightened around her waist. She’d slept with her back to him, spooned together.

“Trying to sneak out?” he asked.

“Not looking for an exit. Just woke up.”

I love you, I love you, I love you
perched on her lips, but she bit it down. She wanted to say it when he could say it back. The truth was he didn’t know her. Tobias had opened up his life like a book with the pages ready to be read. He’d told her about his parents and Gabriella. He let her in without question. The intimacy went one way and there was no way he could love her with so little facts about what made her Emmaline.

Saying the words now might make him feel trapped or forced into saying something he really didn’t mean. And how pathetic to say it after having sex? Men had run for the hills on less. She didn’t want to give him any reason to run.

“It doesn’t feel like we’ve been having half days,” she said. “I’m exhausted and a day off wouldn’t hurt.”

She felt the smile against her shoulder. “I’ve been chasing you during those half days. It’s tiring for mere mortals.”

“Oh, right ’cause you’re a
goddess
.”

He pulled the cover around them. “Damn straight. You did make that ‘hmmm’ noise many times.”

“Could you be anymore cocky?” She glanced over at him.

“I could.” His face was serious as he said it. “But my mother taught me humility.”

“I simply cannot reply without insulting your mother.”

“I know.” He grinned.

“Well, I have to get ready and I don’t have a car.”

He placed a kiss on her shoulder. “How’d you get over here?”

“Cab. Had half a drink. Didn’t want to drive.”

He stilled behind her. “You didn’t want me to worry?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re very considerate, Emmaline.” His fingers made a trail up and down her arm.

She would have smiled, but her breath wasn’t coming as easy anymore. “I know.”

He didn’t kiss her neck, but gently placed his lips on the skin. “I think we have time for an encore presentation before Josh gets back home.”

“He knows,” she said.

He finally kissed her neck. “I’m starting to believe he set us up. For last night.”

Emma tilted her head to give him better access. “He was so convincing. ‘I can’t take it when he’s like this. What did you do to him?’ Puppy dog eyes pleading with me to let him stay the night and for me to fix it, because you’re making crack in a cup.”

He laughed and it rumbled through them both. “I love that kid.”

“I do too,” she said. It relieved some of the pressure of wanting to say the three words to another Merchant man. “It worked.”

“He raided your refrigerator after you left, you know that, right?”

His fingers were still working their magic, but now on her stomach and breasts. “It feels wrong to be talking about your brother while you’re touching me like this.”

“Let’s talk about your striptease then. The German judge gives you a ten.”

“Russian.” Her breathing picked up pace.

“9.8, because you put on that jacket in the end. I can never take it back now. Not without seeing you in it.” He nipped at her neck and cupped her right breast. “Or without wanting you to distraction.”

“The American,” she said.

“Had to leave the stage and watch that Monroe video.”

“I have a feeling we’re going to be running late today.” He was hard and ready, pressed along her backside. She lifted her leg, propping her foot on his knee and he groaned against her ear.

He shifted and came back so fast sheathed and ready, she had to give him brownie points. He said, “You keep doing that to me.”

“I’m impatient.” And then she lost her breath completely when he entered her.

“Apparently, so am I.”

Chapter Eighteen

“It’s starting to feel like I’m living a double life,” Emma said to Abigail as she entered her friend’s apartment.

The sleek and straight-line interior reminded her of Tobias. Not because he was constantly on her mind, but because Abigail also had an affinity for black. Yet, her friend only used it as an accent to the muted grays and splashes of green. The coffee table held a jade Buddha. Emma almost snorted. There was nothing Zen or peaceful about Abigail, at least not at the moment. Abigail paced the spacious living room, barefoot, but still in her work clothes. Though the jacket lay over the gray linen couch.

“She still hasn’t called me. Since she sent that missile to my side of the battleship, she has to call me.”

“That’s a stupid rule.” Emma plopped down onto the couch, picked up a Tootsie roll-shaped pillow and hugged it. “We have been friends too long to let rules be what breaks us.”

“It’s not just a rule. It’s a principle. A boundary.”

“Those things you always keep in mind when you’re on the war path?”

That stopped the movement for only a second. “That’s not the point.”

“It is the point. You were bombarding a boundary without respect to the person you were bombarding. You know Sash is sensitive. And you know what? In elementary school we had it right. We made friends based on who was nice to us. We were loyal. We had fun. So, the first one who smelt it dealt it. You crossed the line; you should be the one to call.”

Emma sighed, and Abigail went still again, this time her friend’s chocolate-brown eyes narrowed. “Now you’re keeping things from me? When did you have sex with Tobias?”

It would be nice to play dumb, but what would be the point? “Last night. This morning. Depending on how long this intervention takes, tonight too. And every time Tobias looks like he’s got the urge to take my scenic route.”

Everything within her went tight with the thought. He held up and beat out Late Night. She would have sighed again, but Abigail was making her way to the couch.

“This is serious.” Abigail plopped down next to Emma.

“Not really.”

“You didn’t see your face.” Abigail tilted her head and then gasped. “You love him, don’t you? Oh, my God. You do.”

Emma glanced around the apartment, away from the inspection. “Did Miguel move out already?”

“His apartment manager was happy to get him back. Two weeks and not a bite to rent out the apartment. He took it very well. Now when did this happen? Why?”

Emma crinkled her brow to immolate confusion, but Abigail only glared harder. She sighed. “It crept up on me, but it’s nothing.”

“You love him.” Abigail scooted back on the couch and glared up at the ceiling, before turning that gaze back on Emma. “This is ground-breaking territory here. Did he say it back?”

“I don’t see the reason in saying it. It’ll pass. It’s infatuation.”

“Nice closing arguments, but the jury still says guilty of loving him. You can’t help but smile when you’re thinking about him. It all makes sense. The secrecy. Those weird little conversations where you said ‘over’ or ‘out.’ You’re trying to protect him from us. Spill.”

Emma pointed at Abigail. “There is no us. Why? Because you said screw it to boundaries. You couldn’t leave well enough alone. So now I’m alternating my days between you and Sasha.”