EMMA DAMIAN 21

E M M A

I was on the beach one week before Christmas. And I wasn't the only one.

I lay back on my towel, supported up on my arms behind me, the sun so warm on my face that it seemed unreal. I sipped my drink, a sweet, boozy concoction delivered in a sliced-in-half pineapple with a small umbrella, and stared out at the limitless lake. The waves lapped gently on the white sands, the sea an emerald blue. There was only me and the fellow with whom I shared the towel.

Damian.

"Isn't it perfect? " he inquired, his gaze concealed beneath Wayfarer sunglasses. He was dressed in nothing except a short pair of light blue swim trunks with a red racing stripe up both of his outer thighs. His skin was sun-kissed, and his sculpted and toned muscles were the perfect bronze color.

I was dressed in a white bikini with the strings fastened at my hips. All I could think about while standing next to him was pulling it off.

"Perfect. The company isn't bad either."

Damian beamed back at me from behind those sunglasses, my reflection stretched out in the lenses, as I gave him a seductive smile.

"Not bad? " he inquired, chuckling. "You're on the most beautiful beach on the planet with the man of your dreams, and all you can say is good. You know how you're a master of understatement? ”

“What?

" I inquired, removing my sunglasses and tucking them into the connection of my bikini top. I grinned as his eyes lowered. "Do you want me to chant your praises on the beach or something?" ”

He cocked his head to the side, as if I'd just given him an inspiration. "That's not such a bad idea."I'm sure yelling on the open beach would provide excellent acoustics."

I burst out laughing. Damian may be a jerk, but he was a humorous jerk.

I could see his eyes narrow even through his sunglasses. The corner of one side of his mouth curved, and I didn't need to be a body language expert to figure out what was on his mind. His arm was around my waist. I let out a delighted squeal as he drew me in, his body as firm as a brick wall but warm and inviting. I enjoyed being pressed up against him and the way he held me.

"Take these off," I urged, removing his sunglasses and revealing his stunning eyes, gleaming and bright in the sunlight.

“Hey now,” he said, squinting cutely. “You think you can just disrobe me like that?”

“Who’s going to stop me?” I asked with a challenging, playful smile.

“No one’s going to stop you,” he said. “But someone might decide that if you can just pull what I’m wearing off like that, then I might return the favor.”

My pussy tingled with arousal. Being in his arms never failed to make me want more. And judging by the way his cock was stiffening in his swim shorts, there was no doubt he wanted the same thing.

“Is that right?” I asked. “Well, I’m not wearing much. So you’ll have to get creative.”

“Watch me.”

He reached around my back and grabbed the string tying my bikini top together. With a quick, effortless pull, he undid the knot, the strings falling to my side. I let out a gasp of faux surprise, my hands shooting up to my breasts and holding the top in place.

“Now,” he said, glancing down at my attempts to keep myself covered, grinning broadly. “You’re not playing fair. You took off my glasses, so I take off your top.”

“And what if I don’t want to play fair?”

The grin stayed on his face. Just being under his stare was enough to make me want to melt, to make me feel like my pussy might burst into flames right there on the spot.

“Good. Because I don’t want to play fair either.”

He put his hand on mine, moving it off. I let the other fall, and the bikini top dropped onto the towel. I was finished toying. I wanted him inside me, and I wanted him right that fucking second.

Damian moved in close and kissed me, and I melted just as surely as the ice in my fruity little drink. We kissed more and more, the taste of his lips mingling with the taste of the beer he drank. We held each other close, the passion roiling and burning, our chests rising and falling in perfect synchronicity.

I moved my hand down to his cock, and he did the same between my thighs. The bikini bottom felt like an incredible burden, the one thing keeping me from the pleasure I craved. I grasped Damian’s cock through his shorts, rubbing the curve of his head and sending a deep growl up from the depths of his belly. He always sounded like an animal when he was this aroused.

I loved it.

Damian knew how to do the same for me. We kissed, the side of his finger pressing my clit through the bikini bottom. I was so turned on that the sensation was almost overwhelming. I grinded my hips into him, my head leaning on his broad shoulder and my nails digging into his back.

He moved the fabric between my legs aside, entering me with his middle and index finger. I moaned, my breath coming in sharp and hot. I pressed my thighs together hard, as if not even wanting to give him the option to stop touching me.

His fingers moved in and out, his thumb teased my clit in just the way I wanted. When the first orgasm hit, all I could do was tilt my head back and moan.

“You don’t have to be shy,” he said, his hand on the small of my back. “This beach is all ours.”

“And you’re all mine, too,” I murmured with a grin after my orgasm had calmed.

“You’re right as hell about that.”

“Then come here and give me what I want.”

Still grinning, he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his swim shorts and pulled them down. His cock was glorious – no other way to say it. He was thick and hard and dripping just for me. I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and stroked him slowly, my eyes locked on his.

He propped himself up on his palms, letting his head hang back as I pumped his solid length. I loved touching him, loved watching him savor how good I could make him feel with nothing more than a touch.

But when he lowered his head, his eyes narrowed and burning, I could feel how badly he wanted to take control.

He quickly undid the strings of my bikini bottom, slipping it out from around me and tossing it over his shoulder into the sand.

“You know,” I said with a grin. “I’m going to have to put that back on later. You ever have sand you-know-where before?”

He was undeterred. “Then I guess we’ll just have to make this a nude beach.”

I giggled and nodded.

Damian pounced, covering my lips and my cheeks and my neck and my breasts in kisses. And before I could react, he turned me, positioning me on all fours, my ass sticking up into the air. His palm came down firmly on my cheek, not painful, but just enough of a jolt to make things interesting. He squeezed my ass before sliding his hands to my waist and holding me how he wanted.

The head of his cock pressed against my lips, and I could sense he was teasing me with his nearness. I moaned, pressing my ass against him, begging him with my body to enter me. I spread open, his head pushing into me and filling my pussy. I fell forward, my arms folded in front of me, the intensity of his fullness making me squirm. I loved when he took me from behind, loved to simply lie there and let him pound me, make me come.

And that’s exactly what he did.

Damian withdrew before gliding into me again, the sensation of his cock driving inside, giving me the sensation of being split in half in the best way imaginable. I glanced back, watching his powerful body work, each and every one of his shredded muscles flexing and releasing as he thrust into me.

“Oh God,” I moaned. “Just like that. Please, just like that.”

He slipped his hand into my hair, wrapping it around his wrist and holding me in place. I loved the way he held me during lovemaking, firm and delicate all at once.

Each thrust of his cock brought me closer and closer to orgasm. But just as I was at the brink, Damian took hold of my hips once more, flipping me over onto my back and grabbing my leg, clasping it against his chest, and tunneling into me with wild abandon.

Damian’s body worked, and upside down behind was the sea, as powerful as overwhelming as the man giving me pleasure.

The orgasm broke, crashing into my as surely as the waves crashed into the shore. Damian’s face formed into a tight rictus of pleasure, his cock draining inside as my limbs curled up from the intensity.

I splayed out my arms and legs when I was done, Damian grinning as he caught his breath and gazed down at me.

“What’s so damn funny?” I asked when I could speak.

“Just thinking about how much I love you.”

What? Love? In my fantasy?

Back in my apartment, my phone buzzed on the coffee table, announcing a text from Hannah to tell me she was there.

I sat up on the couch, trying to shake the last bits of sleep from my limbs. When I’d laid down for a post-lunch nap, I sure as hell hadn’t expected a dream in which the climax wasn’t, well, the climax, but instead Damian confessing his love to me.

A knock on the front door forced me to finally sit up and stretch my arms. “Coming, coming!” I got up and headed over, opening the door.

Hannah burst into the apartment. “Hello!” she shouted, hurrying in, a laptop tucked under her arm.

“Hello to you, too.”

She didn’t look up as she hurried to the table we used as our workstation when we didn’t want to work in the smaller home office. Before sitting down, however, she pulled open the curtains to my living room, and the sunlight poured into the room. I winced, my eyes adjusting to the light. It might’ve been almost Christmas, but aside from the solid white caps of the mountain peaks in the distance, it sure didn’t look like it. There wasn’t a flake of snow on the ground. Felt like it, though – the temperature hadn’t been above freezing in the last couple of weeks.

Hannah set down her computer and opened it, dropping into the seat and pressing the power button. “Alright,” she said as she began to organize her space. “You ready to tackle this thing?”

This thing – that was a hell of a way to refer to the biggest event in our careers.

Big stuff had happened over the last few weeks since I’d last seen Damian, since that day Zea had given birth. Namely, that we’d landed the Second Chance charity event.

The idea that the biggest event was ours was still so surreal. I remembered turning on my computer, the day after I’d broken things off with Damian for good and seeing the email from Second Chance. I hadn’t been in the best of spirits, and despite my usual optimistic attitude, I expected nothing more than a boiler plate letter informing me that they’d decided to go with another events planning organization. After all, why would such a big charity go for a two-person operation like mine when they had their pick of whoever they wanted?

Instead, it was an email from the president himself. Evidently, they wanted to go in a slightly different direction, to go with an events organization that was, in their words, “smaller and nimbler.” As far as I could tell, that was HR-speak for “they wanted to spend less money,” but that was perfectly fine with me.

The job would take everything we had. Hannah and I had finished our scheduled events for the first third of December. After that, we refused new bookings through to the end of the year and threw ourselves headlong into the New Year’s party of the century.

“Okay,” Hannah announced. “Got the confirmation from the Regency Room. We’re good to go.”

“Thank God,” I said, letting out a sigh. The Regency Room was one of the best venues in the region, and the president of Second Chance had stated he wanted it specifically. Hearing that we’d secured it was a load of our minds.

“Then we can go ahead with booking the rest of the staff.”

She shook her head. “A Bora-themed event. Still can’t believe that’s what they chose.”

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“I mean, you just had a little Bora-themed event of your own.” She cackled, then glanced at me. Just the mention of my ill-fated weekend in Bora was enough to make my stomach turn. “Aw, shoot,” she said, reaching over and taking my hand. “Sorry, I was only joking.”

“Oh my God,” I replied, shaking my head and snapping out of my mood. “Was I being that obvious?”

“Not exactly,” she said with a smile. “You got that far away look in your eyes you always get when the subject of he-who-shall-not-be-named is brought up.”

I laughed. “Come on – he’s just an ex, not Voldemort.”

“All the same, if you want to go on a Horcrux hunt to banish him from the mortal realm once and for all, I’d be more than down.”

“I know you would.”

Hannah had been a help during the last few weeks – and not only with work. I hated to admit it, but breaking things off with Damian had been harder on me than I’d anticipated. Hannah was taking the brunt of my moroseness caused by my personal life issues. Long story short, Hannah had handed me a tissue box on more than a few occasions. But it’d gotten better – those things always did.

“You feeling alright about it?” she asked.

“For the most part. I’m not totally ambivalent about him yet. But when Damian comes to mind, I just want to punch him in the face more than anything else.”

“And that’s a hell of a good start,” she said with an assertive nod. “You’re going to be fine. In fact, it was for the best.”

“How do you figure?”

“The thing with you and Damian, it was an old wound – one that needed to be taken care of. Having him come back into your life wasn’t fun, but it was necessary. You have closure now, and that means you can finally start the healing process.”

“That…that actually makes a lot of sense.”

“Sure it does. When you have a bad memory, something you can’t get over, it’s like a piece of your soul is trapped in the past. And you have to let it free or it’ll always seem fresh and painful. So that’s just what you did. Damian screwed you over, and now you got the chance to tell him to stay out of your life forever. Done and done.” She swiped her hands together.

“When the hell did you get so wise?” I asked with a sly smile.

She grinned at me. “I’ve always been wise. Thing is that my wisdom is usually reserved for event planning, not my boss’s love life.”

I sat back, something else occurring to me.

“And now you’re wondering whether or not you’ve made the right call.”

“Damn, that obvious?”

“I mean, you looked thoughtful all of a sudden and it was the best guess I had.” She got up. “Here, let me make some coffee. Everything’s better with caffeine.”

“Good call.”

She headed over to the kitchen, pulling open the fridge and pouring out the red-and-white jug of creamer, then started with the coffee maker.

“Go ahead,” she said, calling over her shoulder. “I’m listening.”

“Just…I told him to leave me alone forever. We happened to come back in our lives because of Zea having her kid.”

“Oh, how is Zea? And her little girl?”

I smiled. “Doing great. Zea’s relaxing at home, and Madeline’s about as happy and healthy as they could hope. Not to mention cute as a button.”

Hannah flashed me a grin as she poured the coffee, filled the maker with water, and hit start. Moments later, the smell of freshly brewed coffee drifted through the air.

“Not to mention you’ve been pulling double duty being the recipient of my venting over the last few weeks. Figured Zea’s got more important stuff going on than hearing about my dude issues.”

“Happy to do it,” she told me. “And as far as the cutting him out of your life forever, well, best I can say about that is everything works out in its own way. If you told Damian to screw off and he does and you never see him again, then so be it. But if he somehow ends up back in your life again…”

“Ugh.” I spat out the word. “I can’t even imagine being within ten feet of the guy without wanting to puke.”

It was a strange choice of words. As soon as I spoke them, a wave of nausea flowed through me, only lasting a second.

“You alright?” Hannah asked, frowning at me. “For a second you looked like you got the taste of throw up in your mouth.”

“That’s more or less what happened. Got a little nauseous, too. But it’s fine. Go ahead.”

“Anyway, just be positive and focus on the good. For example, right now you’ve got the job of the century just waiting for you.” She shook her head as she poured us some coffee and added cream. “Seriously – if we knock this out of the park, then we’re set. Our reputations will be made as some of the best event planners in the state. And that’s if Second Chance doesn’t just go ahead and decide to make us their go-to coordinators.”

Hannah was the best damn assistant I could ask for. And part of her being the best damn assistant anyone could ask for was how unrelentingly positive she never failed to be. The event was causing some stress, and the Damian situation didn’t help matters. But a quick talk with her and I was feeling better.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s not put the cart before the horse – we still need to plan and pull this off.”

She smiled, as if pleased to see I was in better spirits. “Right.” She set the coffee mugs down on our worktable. “So, we’ve got a casino theme going.”

“Old-school casino theme. And I still can’t believe that’s what they wanted to go with. It’s like I can’t get away from the whole Bora vibe.”

Her eyes flashed, as if she saw just as much wry humor in the situation as I did. “Think of it as working past Bora. Now you’re calling the shots.”

“I like that,” I said with a smirk. I raised the mug to my face, the steam curling up and into the air above my hands. But the moment the coffee was close to my face, another wave of nausea ran through me.

“You alright?”

“Fine. So, what’ve we got?”

She gave me a brief glance, as if not entirely certain I was being on-the-level with her, then spoke. “So, old-school Bora-themed. Every guest gets a buy-in of five hundred in chips when they arrive – it’s all part of their per-plate cost. We’ll have all sorts of games set up, and they can play to their heart’s content.”

I nodded, ideas running through my head. “Right. And whichever three make the most have their winnings donated to the charity.”

“We’re still getting the actual prizes lined up, right? I’m thinking some fancy dinners, photo-ops. These are rich types, and they’ll value looking good in front of their rich friends more than walking home with cash.”

“Good call.” I raised the coffee to my lips. But this time, the nausea was overwhelming. My face screwed up, and it took all the control I had not to drop my coffee, instead setting it down before rushing to the bathroom.

“Emma?” Hannah called after me.

I dropped to my knees and gripped the toilet rim, letting fly the contents of my stomach. I’d only had some toast for breakfast, so it wasn’t much. When I was done, I sat back, resting my head against the wall in a daze.

“What the hell was that?” Hannah asked from the door of the bathroom. “Are you okay?”

“Fine now,” I said. “It’s that cream – must be expired or something.”

Hannah vanished, returning with the bottle. Just the sight of it made me ill. She read the label and frowned. “Goes bad in two weeks. You sure you’re not coming down with something?” She grinned. “Or maybe you’re pregnant and having morning sickness. Or afternoon sickness.”

Another wave of nausea hit me, my eyes widening. Her eyes narrowed, and she said, “It was just a joke.”

I almost wanted to throw up again.

Pregnant?

No fucking way. I couldn’t be. But I needed to find out.