CHAPTER 39

When Emily opens the door of her hotel room, her face slackens in shock. But what I notice most is how damned beautiful she looks in her gray oversized T-shirt, her hair falling in wet curls around her shoulders. Her face is bare, her lips full and enticing as she takes me in. “You’re not the delivery guy,” she murmurs. “You were going to open the door looking like that?” My gaze drags down her body, the way her damp hair leaves wet spots on her shirt, dripping down across her breasts. Her legs are miles long under the hem, begging a man to sell his soul for the chance to wrap them around his waist. Her lips curve. “I was really hungry.” She moves to let me in, and I follow, the door clicking shut behind me. “I saw your video on Jacob’s vlog,” she says as I take in the modest but tidy room with two double beds. “You were amazing.” “Thanks.” Her praise warms me in a way no one else’s can. “Do you want to sit?” she gestures around us, but the only place is the bed. I shake my head. It’s safer to talk like this, standing up, a few feet between us. “Nah. I’ve been sitting on a plane all day.” She nods, weaving her hands together in front of her. “What are you doing here? Jacob told me you took a meeting with Zeke and he offered to sign you again. Congratulations.” “I didn’t sign.” Emily lifts her chin, eyes widening in surprise. “Why not?” Because you’re my business. More so than any agents or producers. I want to close all the distance between us but settle for half of it. “I was sitting in the chair across from him and thinking about what happened the last time I signed, and I realized something.” I take a slow breath, not missing the significance of this moment, of what I’m about to say—of what I can’t keep inside any longer. “I didn’t go off the rails because of my dad or the contract or New York. It was because I was finally starting to believe in my dreams and you weren’t there for it.” Emily’s eyes shine, and I force myself to keep going because I have to get through what I came here to say, and if she breaks down, it’s gonna be even harder. “I know you think I chose Eddie over you. But I chose you a long time ago. Over everything and everyone. And you chose me.” I shove both hands through my hair, the emotions rising up. “When you gave me that guitar in high school, you gave me you. I was too young and stupid to understand that. I was convinced our feelings would fuck up your life or mine. But twice I’ve had that moment where my dreams are about to come true, and twice it’s been meaningless without you. And I know I’m stubborn, but I won’t make the same mistake.” The distance between us is unbearable, so I close it, wrapping my hands around her bare arms under the T-shirt sleeves. “I see you, Emily. I’ve always seen you. At your best, your worst, everything in between. And even when you fuck things up, I want a front-row seat because it’s so damn beautiful.” My voice cracks. “I love you, Six. You’re the only song I wanna sing, the only movie I wanna watch, the only”—now I’m grasping—“food I wanna eat.” Emily sucks in a trembling breath as her gaze searches my face as if she’s looking for evidence of my words. She’ll find it. On every inch of me, she’ll find it. “Jacob told me what you did by stepping back from the showcase for me,” I continue, needing to finish. “I wish you hadn’t, and I would have tried to stop you if I’d known, but I can’t seem to stop you from doing anything. It’s maddening, and it’s one more thing I love about you.”” I brush a thumb across her lower lip because the pull between us it too strong to resist. She doesn’t try to stop me, and the softness of her skin, coupled with the way she lets me touch her, has conviction and possessiveness rising up. “Now it’s my turn to do something you don’t want. You asked me for space, and I tried to give it to you. But I won’t let you push me away because you think anything, anyone, matters more to me than you. You’ll always be wrong.” We’re standing flush, her chest brushing mine in a way that reminds me she’s practically naked. Her expression’s colored with caring and something more than that, something bold and edgy, and it tugs at me. “You want to eat me?” she asks softly. I slide my fingers into her damp hair, cupping her face. “That’s what you took from my speech?” She bites her lip, and my thumb strokes up her soft jaw in a way that makes her eyes darken. “I love you too, Timothy.” Holy fuck. My chest expands until it’s near breaking. Her throat works, her hands wrapping around my wrists. But instead of pulling me away, she just holds them. Her dark lashes flutter as her attention drops to my mouth. I never expected hearing those words would hit me so hard, but it does. Maybe I’ve been waiting to hear them for longer than I thought. “That’s it?” I whisper even though I’m shaking, adoration blurring with the desire her touch stirs in me. “No poems, no songs, no anything?” She shakes her head. “We don’t need them.” She’s right. But there is something we do need, something that has my abs clenching, my entire body aware of every inch of hers. “Tell me again,” I mutter. “I love you.” Emily’s response is instant, her gaze searching as if the answer I gave her is only part of what she’s looking for. She’s mine—her heart, her soul, her body. I know it, but I want to prove it, want to show her I’m hers every bit as much. My mouth claims hers, possessive and needy at once. She shifts up on her toes, wraps her arms around my neck, and crushes herself against me. Her body heat through the dampness of her T-shirt turns the fire inside me into a blaze. She’s as hungry as I am, teasing my tongue with hers, dragging her nails across my scalp in a way that has me groaning. I lift her in my arms and carry her to the bed, dropping her on the covers. In an instant, she’s on her knees to meet me, reaching for my clothes. I’m already hard for her. On a growl, I catch the backs of her thighs so she falls back on the mattress, and I follow her down. My mouth drops to her waist, and I lift the hem of her shirt, pressing kisses against her hip at the edge of her panties. I kiss my way up her rib cage. When I can’t go any farther, I grasp the hem of her shirt and tug it over her head. I take in every inch of flushed skin. I’m going to memorize the scent of her, the taste. I’m going to touch her until it’s what she expects, until every second I’m not touching her, she’s looking for me. When I drop my mouth to her breast and suck, the way she fucking bows against my mouth says I’m on the right path. I tease her for as long as we both can take it. Her hands are in my hair, dragging me closer, a demanding contrast to her soft floral scent and warm skin. She’s sweet and greedy, vulnerable and unconquerable. I’m going to fuck this girl until she’s ruined for anyone else. My fingers slip between her legs, rubbing the panel of her panties. It’s soaked. “Oh shit, Timothy.” My mouth is at her ear, my body flush with hers so I can absorb every shiver, every shudder, every muscle straining to get closer. “Say it again.” “Timothy.” I shove two fingers under her panties and press them inside her heat. Emily’s head falls back on the pillow, her damp hair fanned across the white sheets. She’s my mermaid, my siren, the woman whose call I’ll answer when I’m dead. “I see you, Six,” I mutter as I stroke her, finding that spot inside that makes her gasp. “I don’t care where you’re going as long as I go with you.” When I rub a circle over her clit, she says my name as if she’s trying to finish a marathon and I’m the only hope of getting her through. Her nails dig into my biceps hard enough to leave marks. Her touch grazes my abs above my jeans, her gaze meeting mine from under her half-lowered lashes. The sound of my zipper and the brush of her fingers against my cock through my boxer briefs is a warning. She’s writhing and panting with every stroke, and when she wraps her hand around my cock, I swear she gets wetter. My abs clench, and I’m leaking all over her. I want her hands, her lips, her pussy—all of it, a never-ending carousel until we’re both dizzy and spent. But there’s something I need first. Her breath is a shallow pant, and my teeth find her earlobe, tugging hard enough she shakes “Come for me.” I growl the words, and she responds, her body bowing up, her hips grinding and squeezing on my fingers. Forget music. Her orgasm is the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever experienced. She comes down, and I stand up off the bed, stripping out of my clothes before getting a condom from my wallet. I start to roll it on, but she reaches for my wrist. “I’m on the pill.” Her mouth sets in a firm line as the seriousness of this slams into me. I’ve thought about how it would feel to have nothing between us but only in a fantasy kind of way, like I’ve thought about fucking her in her pool in Dallas, her skin slippery from the water, or on top of the piano in a rehearsal room at Vanier, her legs spread so wide I can see six octaves between her calves. My chest tightens. “I’ve never gone without.” Her hands cup my face. “We don’t have to. But I’d like to, if you would.” “Why?” The word is hoarse, barely audible. A breath trembles out of her lips, but she continues. “Because I love you and I want to be so close to you it’s impossible to tell where you end and I start. Because I want you to come inside me, for you to know that some part of you is in me... even though I know you always have been.” If she was planning to say something else, I’ll never know because I cut her off. I claim her lips with mine because I have to kiss her when she talks like that. I’m a thousand feet tall—and harder than I can remember being—when I position myself against her entrance, where she’s so wet from my touch, every easy slide of my cock on her skin a filthy promise of what’s to come. Right there with you, Six. I memorize how she looks, feels, sounds, smells. Her fingers dig into my ass as I lower over her, our lips brushing. “You know something?” I murmur. “You’re the only person who’s ever made me want to believe.” Her voice is rough at the edges. “You’re the only person I’ve never stopped believing in.” Those words break me. I slide home, swallowing her cry as she takes every inch of me. She feels so good—better than I dreamed. This girl is everything. My past, my future. The home I never knew. I’ll bury myself so deep she’ll never get me out. I nudge us into a rhythm, but her body’s greedy, barely letting me pull back so I can give us both the pleasure of stroking back in. We’re a tangle of need and feelings and sweat and hope. I’m torn between the need to draw this out for fucking hours and the drive to see how many times I can claim her before we leave this bed. When my hand slides between us to find her clit, she gasps, eyes flying wide. I draw nearly out of her, darkly thrilled by her moan of protest. When I speak, my voice is a rasp. “I…” I press back inside on a long stroke, only to pull out. “Dream.” Again. “Of.” Again. “This.” Emily comes, and the feeling of her gripping me drags me there too. She shakes in my arms, and I hold her tight, knowing nothing in life has ever felt this good… and for the first time, believing it’s possible to keep feeling this way.