Chapter 35 Gavin
Gavin
“That’s it, pet. Take what I give you.” I rocked my hips into Emma’s, setting a steady pace.
I loved pushing her boundaries, watching her give in and give up control.
She let out a sharp gasp, but brought her legs around my waist.
The night I sent her away, I’d woken up in soaking-wet sheets, drenched in a cold sweat and fearful that I’d just sent away the one good thing in my life. My chest felt like it had been split in two.
It was sheer luck that she’d agreed to come back to me. And with some rules of her own too. Her backbone was inspiring. She wasn’t some pushover submissive . . . my girl had spirit.
And she accepted me, flaws and all.
I drew up on my knees, appreciating the view of Emma spread out before me, and continued pumping in long, measured strokes.
Her chest heaving, her lips slightly parted, her tits bouncing with each thrust, she was beautiful. Her eyes sparkled on mine.
“You okay?” I asked.
She gave me a tight nod.
“Good. Because I could do this all night.”
My lust rising, I drove harder, gripping her luscious ass in both hands. The position forced me deeper, and I felt Emma’s body clench tightly around me.
“Coming again?” I whispered against her neck.
A small whimper and the nod of her head against my throat were the only answers I got before her tight opening clenched wildly, milking my cock.
A deep groan of satisfaction rose in my throat. I buried myself to the hilt one last time, my release ripping through me with ferocity.
After I ditched the condom and cleaned us up, I returned to the bed where Emma had made herself comfortable beneath the sheets.
As we lay together, skin to skin, hard muscle against soft curves, I enjoyed the heat of her body against mine. I’d denied myself this simple pleasure for so long, somewhere deep down afraid of getting too attached. But, fuck it, I was already in too far. Now, I might as well see this thing through until the end.
My head was spinning with unanswered questions about where all this would lead. I didn’t have the best track record, and knew I’d inevitably find a way to fuck this up.
As Emma lay curled in my arms, so soft and trusting, I couldn’t help my mind from wandering to more sinister things, like what happened to Ashley might happen to Emma if I wasn’t careful.
I clutched her tighter, not wanting to face reality just yet.
I didn’t like this. Not one fucking bit. In fact, under normal circumstances, I might have stopped the car and demanded to get out.
But considering I had no idea where we were or where we were going, and Emma was looking at me so intently . . . her cheeks pink, her eyes glowing with excitement? Well, it seemed like a dick move to try to back out now. And besides, the more time I spent with her, the harder it was to say no. To all her little rules.
That fact alone should have made me bolt in the opposite direction, but for some reason, my ass was glued to the seat.
“Why won’t you tell me where we’re going?” I asked.
“Ben knows. Isn’t that enough?” she teased.
“No. Ben won’t tell me anything either.”
“That’s because Ben and I have an understanding.” She grinned. “Besides, since when were you the only one who got to plan special surprise dates? Can’t I do something nice for you in return?”
I considered that. It was a sensible question, but that didn’t make the answer easy to swallow. I wasn’t good at accepting gestures of affection. Never had been. So, while I understood on an intellectual level the need to do it, I felt twitchy about the whole thing in a way I couldn’t shake. Especially now. Especially with Emma. After our past few dates, each as sexy as hell but also intimate in ways I had been trying not to think about, I knew I was in too deep. But, damn if I could bring myself to pull away.
“Can’t you at least give me a clue?”
“I swear, you’re like a little kid. Just relax.” She chuckled. “You don’t have to shake the box to figure out what’s inside.”
“I know what’s inside.” I moved closer and ran my palm along her smooth, exposed inner thigh, but she slapped my hand away.
“It’s not that kind of surprise,” she said. I was slightly mollified that her voice was just a little breathless.
“And what if I want it to be? Do we have time?” I nipped her earlobe and she began to laugh, but just as she writhed under my touch, the car jolted to a halt.
“We’re here?” I asked, craning to see out the window, but Emma grabbed me by the lapel and forced me back.
“I get out first,” she said.
“You will not—”
“When I get out, you might get a peek up my dress,” she purred.Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.
Beaten by that logic, I leaned back on the plush cushions and waited as she bent over me, flashing the frill of her lavender panties as she climbed from the car. Then, when the space was clear, I followed her into a parking lot that was filled with gravel rather than pavement.
The building in front of us was so big, it might have been a warehouse in another life. Huge, glowing letters read Family Fun Palace in colorful bright neon.
Son of a bitch. What had I gotten myself into?
“You brought me to . . . what? Babysit?”
“Nope.” Grinning, she shook her head. “This whole place is ours for the day.”
I frowned. “What?”
“You were being so thoughtful with your classic-movie night and your wine tasting, and I figured . . . well, this is probably something you never got the chance to do when you were little. When I was seven, I went to a place like this and broke my tooth riding bumper cars with my cousin Miranda. It’s an important experience in a kid’s life, this kind of stuff,” she said, her expression grave. “This is the type of place you make memories.”
I raised my eyebrows, trying not to grin at the thought of a young, freckle-nosed Emma with a chipped tooth, and failing. “Is that so?”
“It is. Dingy rides, squeaky bolts that may or may not have been checked this decade, one-eyed carnies leering at you. It’s a rite of passage. And today, at this arcade, you are going to have it,” she said, her eyes blazing with determination.
“I’m not going to ride bumper cars with a bunch of ten-year-olds and—”
“We won’t have to. This place is ours. Totally. I bought it out for the day. Bethany’s uncle owns it, and he gave me a good deal. So, come on. No more excuses. What are you waiting for?”
She held her hand out to me just as the gray sky above us started spitting rain, and I didn’t have time to think of a way out. I closed my hand over hers, and we rushed inside the huge metal doors as quickly as we could manage before the downpour began.
It was only once we were inside that I realized exactly how much work she must have put in. At every stall, men and women were waiting for us, smiling while we decided where to walk, and a massive speaker played old nineties hits, songs that I knew from my childhood.
Standing back, I shook my head. “This must have cost you a fortune.” As I automatically tallied up the cost of this many people’s time, it hit me that she’d probably dropped a whole night’s pay on this date. Money she could have used fixing up her beloved brownstone.
Instead, she’d spent it on me. The man who had everything, and nothing, all at the same time.
My throat tightened, and I cleared it with a grumble. “Look, Emma . . . you didn’t have to—”