Driving in Neutral (26 page)

“I’m kidding.” He chuckled again.

“Doesn’t
anything
embarrass you?”

He cupped her bare shoulder. “Claustrophobia.”

“I’d like to be in a box right now. Well, what do we do?”

Sunlight was edging into the room through the open doors, filtering through the gauzy curtains and in the emerging light he looked into her hazy, dark eyes and was suddenly short of breath all over again.

She nearly said something, a lone syllable made its way out of her mouth, but her lips parted and met his with an unfathomable need she hadn’t realized was there. For a long, long moment, all she heard was the sound of her own heart. She felt lightweight, billowing the same way the filmy bedroom curtains did in the breeze.

Emerson sighed deeply against her mouth. She tasted of toothpaste and a spellbinding, unique sweetness all her own. His arms went around her and they fell sideways into the pillows, their legs twining together. They kissed and kissed, tongues unifying, hands caressing and blindly exploring the planes of each other until their passion had built up to an unbearable certainty.

Two light tugs of the short zipper on the side of her dress and Emerson pushed at the material, removing it slowly, his fingers leaving a trail of ticklish, sensual heat all the way to the back of her knees. She wiggled out of the dress, kicking it to the floor, and led his hands to her breasts. “These are beautiful,” he murmured, skimming his fingertips around them softly, bending to brush the contours with his lips.

“Thank you. I grew them myself.”

With a soft laugh, he trailed a procession of delicate kisses up her throat and buried his face in her neck. She smelled of sleep, of lavender soap and cucumber eye gel, of summer morning. He wanted to make her smell of him. He wanted to be able to smell himself on her and he pressed against her, listening to her soft breathing accelerate.

Touching him, his heated skin, his raspy face, and feeling the pressure of his weight upon her was astounding. She could hear herself saying his name, his first name,
Emerson
, that one boundary had kept things from getting personal, but why had that been so important? Why did she reject this was what she wanted, what she needed? The chemistry had been there from the first tense moments in the elevator, she’d admitted that much, but was it really possible to feel this depth of emotion for someone in such a short span of time?

Crowding close, she ground against him, feeling how hard he was and groped for his bottom to push him closer. She wanted Emerson, wanted to be with him, to be part of him, and her fingers felt for the drawstring of his pants, her knuckles brushed the trail of dark hair on his stomach while she untied the string knot and suckled his earlobe. When she reached inside and drew her fingers along the hard length of him, his breath hitched. With a series of small movements, she drew his pants halfway down his thighs, slipping them to his knees and pushing them down to his feet with her toes.

Naked, he ran his hands along her spine, through a kind of morning dewiness that had sprung up on his skin as well, and Olivia arched back as he began to kiss her again softly, with delicate, teasing pleasure. He liked the soft, helpless little sounds she made as he touched her.

She moved closer to bite his neck. Her fingers wound into his hair, and he slid down her body, kissing a trail from her throat, following the path along the valley between her breasts, stopping just below her navel, the stubble on his chin sandpapery and erotic as it grazed her flesh, his lips and tongue soothing the pinkish rasp.

Emerson glanced down at her lace-edged lilac panties then back to her face, watching her when he slid them off with one hand, lingering to dip his fingers into the captivating wetness between her thighs. His thumb skimmed through the slick, rising up over the narrow valley and little knotted crest, and she shivered. He watched her twitch and rise into his circling touch.

He brought his hand up to his mouth and sucked the flavor of her from his thumb. “I know,” he murmured, “exactly how good you taste. And nothing,
nothing
tastes as sweet.”

Olivia bit her bottom lip and tightened her hands in his hair. “Kiss me. Kiss me now.” Her rich eyes were illuminated from within as well as by the glowing rays of dawn, her body as soft and welcoming. “Do everything you can think of
now
.”

Moving back to capture her lips, Emerson hovered above her for a moment, groping sideways for the little bedside basket of condoms meant for Jason. Seconds later, her hands slipped to his hips, her fingers digging in with an even pressure as she lifted slightly to meet him. They both gasped when their bodies joined, and, for a moment, they remained motionless to relish the precise moment of their union.

Swallowing, Emerson sank deeper into her, feeling her tighten around him. She moaned softly, gripping his shoulders as he began to move, stroking with a slow rhythm that quickened her heart and breath.

“Emerson?”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Good God,
yes
.”

Emerson started to laugh, but the sound caught in his throat when she slid a leg around his backside and began to rock against him, joining the tempo he’d set. “Jesus, God, Mary, and Joseph, don’t stop doing that.”

“This?”

“Exactly.”

“How about this,” she bit his shoulder, “and this,” nipped his neck, “and this?” Her teeth nibbled up along his ear.

“All of it,” he said, slipping his hands under her hips, lifting her, easing in and out of her. “All of it.”

She panted suddenly, “Higher. I want you inside, higher. Closer. Deeper.”

Emerson wrapped an arm around her and rolled onto his back. She plunged down onto him with a satisfied little groan, rising and falling all around him, her dark hair swinging across her rosy mouth.

“Holy shit,” he marveled.

“No kidding.”

With his eyes half-closed, his fingers combed the strands from her lips then slipped down her throat to roll over a hard nipple. He filled her, and she held him, all of him. She rode him and he pushed up, meeting her, joining her rhythm that drew them both toward a high peak of sensation.

“Emerson?” she breathed.

“What?”

“I think we should thank God you’re claustrophobic.”

“Amen.” Emerson grinned and thrust upward, easing down and up, gaining speed along with her movements.

Moaning, Olivia snapped back and forward, raking her tongue over her bottom lip. She fluttered and tightened around him, her release imminent. Blinking, she took two quick breaths and swayed side to side.

It was enough to drive him over the edge. Emerson cried out, his voice booming, and he yanked her against his chest, burying the sound in her neck. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened, and her breath came out in a rush, every nerve firing as she shuddered, sharing the pleasure.

Yet, it was more than pleasure. It was an understanding that something, something beyond sex, had been missing in their lives.

Emerson realized he could quite possibly spend the rest of his life with her. Olivia discovered she loved him.

In a happy little daze, Olivia went down to the kitchen to make coffee. Someone else had beaten her to the pot. The rich, earthy aroma of Arabica beans already perfumed the air. She paused in the archway near the back steps she’d just come down, and swallowed. Ella sat across the room, at the little table in the tiny breakfast nook.

Olivia shuffled in and headed straight for the coffee, taking two cups from a tray. “Boy, am I embarrassed.”

Ella sipped her coffee and didn’t say a word. The fat blue mug in front of her face hid her expression. She waited for Olivia to pour a cup and take a seat on the other side of the breakfast nook table before speaking. All business, her voice held no trace of vexed southern belle. “Is there some reason you of all people feel you have to upstage me on my wedding day?”

Olivia opened her mouth and the coffee she was about to choke on fell back into the cup. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m
upstaging
you?”

Ella’s cup banged against the tabletop as she set it down. “You’ve done a great job of hiding your little thing for Emerson. How long have you two been going at it anyhow? I don’t know why I didn’t see it. I wonder if anyone else here’s noticed you only
pretend
to think he’s a dick. No wonder you’ve been so…
chirpy
.”

“I haven’t been pretending anything.”

“Oh, please. You’re acting like Justine!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You always said you think she’s slutty.”

“I never said that.”

“No, but you sure think it.”

Olivia ran both hands through the messy tangle of hair on her head. This was ridiculous. She had coddled Ella through this wedding, pandered to wishes to wear three inch stilettos so the bridesmaids would be a uniform height, soothed tantrums over Uncle Kev with the glass eye he liked to pop out, and played the bad guy with the caterer, cake designer, Hutton House staff, and other bridesmaids just so the bride wouldn’t look like a bitch, but this was too much. This was personal.

Ella had finally gone mad with power.

Olivia got to her feet, tightening the thin bathrobe she put on after losing the coin toss to stumble downstairs for coffee, leaving naked Emerson looking amused in the rumpled bedclothes. “Okay, Ella, I know this is your big day, I know you’re nervous and on edge and how important it is for things to go exactly perfect, but you’ve finally overstepped the line here. How does what I do in the privacy of my b—”

Ella’s laugh exploded, bouncing off stainless steel and tiles. “
Psych
!”

Olivia squeezed her temples. “W-w-what?”

“Oh, come on, you didn’t really think I was mad, did you? No, sweetheart, I may be embarrassed I barged in to see you being felt up, but I’m absolutely thrilled for you. It makes today that much more special because it’s been too long since you smiled like you have been lately. If Emerson is the reason, then how come you’re down here in the kitchen with me instead of upstairs with him?”

“I came down for coffee.”

“Oh, coffee
for two
,” Ella sang.

Olivia felt a smile spread across her face.

“Oh my, my,
my
.”

Olivia couldn’t stop smiling.

“I told you he was worth a smutty thought or two.”

“Actually you said ice cream and a day at the beach rolled into one.”

“And was he?”

“It’s like going flat-out around the track in a Bugatti Vayron, only better.”

Ella leaned forward on her elbows. “You really like him, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure like is a strong enough word.”

“Olivia’s got a boyfriend!” Ella’s giggle actually came out like
tee-hee-hee
. “Oh, wait until Craig finds out!”

“You’re not going to say anything, are you?”

“I won’t have to. Not with
I got some this morning
written all over your face in pink neon.” Ella picked up her coffee cup. “Sorry, honey, what you and Emerson just figured out was already obvious to everybody here. We were all just waiting for you to get a room.”

Olivia never would have made a good waitress. She sloshed coffee over the edge of the mugs she carried upstairs, dribbling a stream of hot liquid down her hands and swore under her breath. Rounding the corner of the hallway, she saw Martin and Addie. They were dressed in sports gear and ready to go for an early morning run along the lakefront like they had yesterday. Focused on each other, they spoke quietly as they moved up the hall.

Trying to cover the ground to her room without drawing attention to her presence, Olivia lost more coffee, scalding her forearms as it washed up her and into the sleeves of her thin robe. It made the slight fabric floppy. With a wince, she kept her focus on the door of her room, nestled the mug in her right hand between her elbow and chest, and stretched out for the doorknob. Her fingers made contact with polished brass and she began to turn the handle.

“Morning ‘Livia,” Martin said behind her.

Shit
. Coffee splashed onto her breast. “Good morning.” She said, casting a look over one shoulder.

Martin had stopped to tie his shoe. He and Addie were a few steps away. “Is that coffee I smell?” he said.

“Yes.” Olivia flashed them a quick smile and groped for the doorknob again. “Ella just made it.”

“Wouldn’t you rather have coffee than a run, Addie-pie?” He rose and looked at his girlfriend, hope clear in his tired, bloodshot eyes. “Doesn’t the coffee smell great?”

“Don’t blame me for your hangover, Martin,” Addie sniffed. “You said you’d go for a run with me this morning. It’s not my fault if you have a sore head. I was here all by myself last night.”

“You didn’t have to stay in the room. You could have helped the girls. Couldn’t she, ‘Livia?”

“I would have been intruding,” Lying Addie whined. “They’re all old friends and I hardly know them, I would have been a third wheel. I know you didn’t tell Ella I was coming. Justine made sure I knew that. You know,
I
never would have left you back here by yourself.”

“Addie-pie, it was a bachelor party, you ca—”

The door behind Olivia opened so swiftly she nearly dropped the coffee. Emerson tugged at the post-coital sheet wrapped around his hips. “What took you so long?” he said and then saw beyond her pained expression. His smile faded.

“Well, good morning, Emerson!” Martin said, dragging out the
good
part of his salutation.

“Mart. Addie.” Emerson nodded curtly, taking the coffee from Olivia’s elbow, pulling her inside, and shutting the door as Martin started to laugh.

Emerson took the other coffee from her and set the mugs on the short table near the door. He drew her near, wrapping her into his arms. “I missed you,” he said into her hair. “Whose bright idea was it for you to go get coffee?”

She sighed against his chest. “Okay, so Ella knows.”

“Yup.”

“And now that dickhead knows.”

“Looks that way. Are you all right with that?”