I CAN COUNT THE NUMBER of times I’ve seen Emery blush on one hand, including tonight. Her wide eyes look around us as she moves her arms to cover herself. I grab her wrists, pinning them to her sides. Leaving her exposed for me to bend down and flick one of her puckered nipples with my tongue.
“Sebastian!” she hisses and I smile into her skin. Oooo, I’m in trouble. “What about reporters?”
Shit. I forgot. I’ve become so used to the freedom of being here, it’s hard remembering that the peace has been disturbed. I haven’t seen any today or yesterday, the story of where I am, has hopefully run its course.
I wind my arms around Emery’s back, pressing her as close to my chest as our bodies allow. I start walking us toward the direction of the house, but as my feet move, my brain coaxes. Veering off toward the left, Emery gives me a look as I take us toward the gated backyard.
“That’s not the direction of your room,” she points out as the gate clicks shut behind us.
“It’s not.” I lean my neck back to get a better look at her face. “Do you trust me?”
“Yeah?” It sounds like a question. “Should I not? What are you thinking?”
Most of the yard isn’t fenced in, but leading back to my pool and the path out to the beach, it’s lined with trees and bushes, creating more privacy out here than in the front yard. Perfect for what’s been churning in my head. On replay.
I set Emery down and she eyes my shirt-clad chest while crossing her arms, hiding her perky breasts from me. I frown and she smirks. “I don’t think it’s fair that only one of us is shirtless.”
Without looking away from her smirking lips, I reach behind me, fisting at my shirt and pulling it off. I toss it to the side, aiming it a little too far, and hear the soggy sound of the fabric smacking into the water.
Internally, I shrug; it’s just as well. Now neither of us can cover back up since I left Emery’s shirt in my truck bed.
My fingers slip into the belt loop of Emery’s jeans and reel her into me. She comes willingly, wearing the look she gets when she’s down for whatever.
Behind me, I hear the fireworks going off, signifying the New Year. My hands move from Emery’s belt loops to undo her pants. She holds onto my shoulders as I roll the tight denim and lace fabric of her thong off her body, sand flaking off her ankles and feet as I pull the jeans completely off.
My clothes quickly follow and I’m picking Emery back up, tossing her over my shoulder. She laughs as her hands go to my ass, slapping both cheeks in a silent order to put her down. Her laugh quickly turns into screams as I comply with her demand, tossing her into my pool. I jump in right behind her.
As my head is breaking the water’s surface, I’m being pushed back down by a set of hands on top of my head. I open my eyes and the water distorts and stings my vision as I grab Emery’s waist, sinking us both down to the bottom.
Emery wiggles around until she breaks free, planting her foot on my chest, and pushes herself back to the surface. Tiny bubbles follow her. She splashes me with water once my head pops up a few paces from her.
“Happy New Year, babe.” My grin lures Emery closer to me until she’s wrapping her arms around my neck.
“I thought we were going to celebrate in a different way.” To further her point, her thigh brushes against my dick.
Emery wraps her legs around my waist and my throbbing erection rubs against her. I swear as I grit my teeth to say, “I wanted to try something.”
“You’ve never skinny dipped before?” The sass shines through her words. “Poor you. Your twenty-two years sound so sad.”
“Hush, you. I was just trying to get the sand off of you so it didn’t wind up in my ass crack.”
I slide my hand down until I cup her, my middle finger teasing her folds. She shudders a breath. “You have my attention.”
“Good.” I kiss her hard and quick, swimming us to the steps. Keeping her wrapped around me, I stand up. Water races down our bodies as I walk us to where I’ve wanted us to end up all night.
My outdoor shower.
Emery raises a brow as I push her against the wall, but there’s excitement lighting her eyes as I turn on the water and kiss her. My body grinds against hers as it rains between us. Our kisses mix with the water.
Her hands roam my back, nails digging in every time my erection rubs against her entrance. She arches into me as she tries to pull us closer. I press her harder into the wall as one of my hands moves to grip the base of my shaft and circle her clit with the head.
“Bash,” she breathes and there’s never been a better sound.
“Tell me what you want, babe.” I grin a wicked grin as her heels dig into my ass.
“You know what I want,” she whines and I stand corrected. Emery frustrated is my favorite sound.
I continue my ministrations and Emery lets out a small sound, soft and wanting. “Damn you, Cleaton.” Her frustration is growing and I grin, loving every word. “If you don’t get inside me in five seconds I am going to—”
Not daring to find out where her sentence is heading, I kiss her hard again and am about to give her what we both want, when I freeze.
Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit. Nononono.
“What’s wrong?” Emery asks, her eyes searching my face. “Why did you stop? Bash?”
“Condoms.”
“We don’t need one.”
I blink. And blink some more. “Is this my Christmas gift?”
Emery laughs, actually laughs. Unbelievable. “No, you’ll get that after you give me a few orgasms.”
“Emery.” Now is not the time for her humor. “Are you serious?”
Her face is clear and doubt-free when she nods. “I’m on the shot, remember? And it’s only for right now. After this shower we’re using them again.”
I nod along, agreeing to all the words she’s saying, and I waste no time as I slide in, groaning at the warmth and tightness that engulfs me. My body shudders and I’ve never felt anything as good as going bare. I push in until all of me is inside her. Filling her.
God, we both have labored breaths and erratic beating hearts. If it wasn’t for the shower we’re under, our bodies would be coated with sweat.
For several moments, I don’t move. I soak up this feeling. Nothing has ever felt better. And it’s not just the lack of latex, but because I’m doing this with Emery.
Emery, who is growing more impatient with every passing heartbeat. She begins to roll her hips, moving against me, riding me like she owns me.
And she does. She fucking owns me.
“Fuck, Emery,” I growl, squeezing her hips.
I let her set the pace, moving with her, until she pulls me in and tangles her tongue with mine. I grunt, pulling her higher, taking her from a new angle. Her breath hitches and her hips buck up.
Taking both of her arms, I raise them above her head until she grabs onto the showerhead. “Don’t let go. You do and I stop.” My voice isn’t my own. It’s too deep and heavy.
Emery nods as her body stretches and I tilt her hips. Her noises of approval spur me on. There’s no time for talking as I drive into her and my tongue chases the water falling onto her body.
She screams as I thumb her clit and I feel her body loosen, her hands slipping. I cease moving. I smack her ass for disobeying.
Emery makes a sound of protest, tightening her grip, and once she’s back in position I begin to move again. Thrusting faster and rougher, all sense of rhythm lost as I bring us closer and closer to the edge. Not stopping until we both spill over, our names on each other’s lips. I pull out and shoot my load on her stomach, the water washing it away.
I kiss Emery’s forehead as more fireworks begin to shoot off from behind me. Exploding and expanding in the night sky. Some people are getting drunk, partying into a new beginning, but as I turn off the water and hold Emery close, I know that my New Year started off the way it was meant to.
With Emery screaming my name.
Emery walks out the back door and onto the patio, a towel wrapped around her shoulders and my phone hanging from her fingertips.
I finish running my towel through my hair and give her a look.
She’s supposed to be inside, sleeping. Like she said she would be.
“Your mom has called ten times within five minutes, Bash.” She walks closer, pressing her body against mine. Under the towel, her naked body teases me.
I feel hungover and it’s because of her.
So far, the New Year has been treating me pretty damn good. Emery and I have barely slept, rotating between sex and surfing—her parents think she’s staying at Nori’s until noon and I’m trying to not waste any time. And none of that time revolves around my mother.
Especially when my girlfriend is naked and I only have a towel wrapped around my waist.
“I don’t want to talk to her.” I bring my mouth to hers; each word brushes our lips together. I take the phone from her, putting it on the railing behind me, and move my hands to her body, slipping into the towel and cupping her sex. “I want to keep doing what we’ve been doing.”
She arches into me, her eyes going glassy. “You just don’t want me to walk.” She moans and I chase it with my tongue.
“’Course, you won’t be able to leave then.” I run a finger between her folds.
“That sounds very kidnapper-esque.” Her voice is breathy and choppy, coming out in gasps.
My mouth moves over her throat, following the path to her ear. Sucking the lobe between my teeth, I tug. Through the fog of lust, I’m barely able to register the sound of my phone going off.
I’m apparently doing a shit job with Em because she pushes away and reaches around me to grab the phone. She shoves it into my bare chest.
“Talk to her.”
“I’d rather be doing something else.” The phone stops ringing, only to start ringing again when I pull her back into me.
“She’s going to keep calling until you answer,” she reminds me.
“It’s going to be a shit conversation.” I hug her to my body. I’ve been ignoring their calls since Christmas, since they found out where I am.
The source of the photo hasn’t been revealed and I’ve been too distracted by other shit to hire a P.I. or hacker or whoever’s job it is to find answers to this shit.
I’m actually surprised my parents haven’t rolled into town. It’s been a whole week. The only person I’ve talked to from California since then has been my sister.
Rachel was the only one to check on how I’m handling everything.
Emery kisses my chest. “I’ll be here when it’s over. You’re not alone anymore, Bash. You’ve got me. And I’m pretty annoying once I get attached to someone. Besides, I haven’t had all my sexual demands satisfied by you yet.”
I groan and my fucking phone rings again. “We’ll get back to that after this call.” I bring the phone to my ear. “Mother.”
The greeting is forced and Emery can feel how tense I am. She squeezes my hand and walks me toward one of the deck chairs.
I pull her onto my lap as I sit. My free hand rests on her thigh, the one with the scars. She’s grown more comfortable with me touching the sensitive area and she doesn’t flinch when our skin makes contact.
She still wears her wetsuit out in the water and jeans or long skirts when going out, but she has to do this at her own pace. When she’s ready to show her scars, I’ll be here for her.
The heat and weight of her body acts as my anchor, the balm to keep me calm through this conversation.
No doubt the same fucking conversation I’ve been having with my mother since I came out here.
I make sure the towel is covering all of her distracting parts. I have to keep my focus for this talk. I could also use a shot of whiskey, but it’s not even nine in the morning and I refuse to move.
“Sebastian.” The icy tone of my mother’s voice has not changed even though the year has. “It’s time to stop being a child. You’ve proven your point and have had more than enough fun over there.” I don’t let the slight dig at Emery get to me. She’s looking for a fight I refuse to give. “Isn’t this temper tantrum of yours over? You’ve dragged it out long enough.”
I repress a sigh, attempting to bite my tongue. I will not give her what she is hoping for. “Happy New Year to you too, Mom.”
Not one for holidays, she only called me on Christmas because of the picture that was going around the tabloids.
Emery shakes her head, not having the highest opinion of my mom. Not that I blame her after the verbal lashing she went through the first and only time she’d spoken to the woman who birthed me.
Emery can’t wrap her head around the coldness that I grew up with, not when her family is so warm and loving.
Maybe that’s why I fell in love with surfing. The heat from the sun warmed the coldness I got from being at home.
“I’m twenty-two,” I say into the phone. My hand is clutched around it so tight, the skin around my knuckles is white. “I make my own choices.” The words are wasted; trying to remind her is pointless.
“You have surf competitions coming up.” As if I don’t know that.
My next one is in two months, in March. In Hawaii. It’s crazy to think that at twenty-two, I’m capable of remembering shit without my parents there to remind me. “And you have that meet and greet you promised to attend.” The meet and greet that was taking place before said competition in March.
She presses on, not waiting for my comments. “Your father and I get it. Your point has been proven.”
“I’m not trying to prove anything. You still think I’ve been doing all of this for attention when all I’ve ever wanted is a break.” I’ve wanted to breathe. “Not everything I do is about you. It probably shocks you to hear that, I’m sure, but very little of my decision-making revolves around you and Dad. I’m my own person and not some drone for you to control.”
I don’t look at Emery, even though I can feel her stare burning the side of my face. I keep my eyes on the ocean, on the waves crashing onto shore, and continue to run my hand up and down her thigh, tracing unidentifiable patterns along her leg. “I’ll put some money into your accounts, since I know that’s your main objective.” In her mind, I’m easier to control in California. Where I can’t say no to her face. “And as far as I’m concerned, I am home.”
Emery tenses at my words.
Shit.
I hang up, cutting off my mother’s retort, and turn Emery’s body around to straddle me.
Her eyes have gone wide, her body frozen. She doesn’t even blink.
My beautiful, loud, and exuberant girl who will say the dirtiest and crudest things in a crowd of people without a twinge of embarrassment, gets freaked out with intimacy.
Not so much the physical form; she’s been more open about me seeing her physical scars. It’s emotional intimacy that triggers her flight instincts.
The kind where she gets attached and invested and winds up broken and alone. I’ve tried to soothe those fears away, that I’m not going to hurt her, but words to Emery are empty and actions are where her truths are.
“Hey,” I say softly, stroking my thumb along her cheek. “Come back to me.”
“You said you’re home.” Her voice doesn’t hold the panic that reflects in her eyes.
“I did.” I grab her waist, holding her in place, to stop her retreat before it begins. “Don’t get freaked out by this. I didn’t say it because of you, Em.” Some people would get offended by that statement, but Emery slowly relaxes into me.
She’s so independent and so used to being on her own that the idea of someone tying themselves to her is practically a nightmare. She still hasn’t figured out that I’m as much of a realist as she is. She’s actually the one that has more aspirations in her dreams than I do. We’ve barely begun to get to know each other, so I go on to explain.
“I’ve lived in California my entire life; the only travel I’ve done is for surfing. I’ve never gone anywhere for me. Never done something purely selfish. I’ve wanted a change for a while. To go on a new adventure. I picked Florida because of the beaches and it was on the opposite side of the country. So why not have it be here? I have this cheesy as hell bucket list I made when I was fifteen that I want to complete before I’m twenty-five. I’m also closer to my grandparents.” They live in Georgia. They were the ones to show me and Rachel warmth and love growing up. I miss spending a few weeks of my summers as a kid with them on Jekyll Island.
“You’re here, yes, but so is Dez.” She makes a face and I chuckle. “You don’t have to like him, but he is the realest friend I’ve had. So, don’t think I’m staying just for you. I’m staying for me.” She relaxes more.
“How long have you thought about this?”
“The idea has been in the back of my mind since I moved out here. Testing the waters and shit. But I don’t want to leave now that I’m here. I want to see what the East Coast can offer me. Aside from your orgasms.”
“My boyfriend, the romantic.”
“I’m the perfect amount of romantic for you,” I reminder her, tweaking her nipple as I move in to kiss her, my tongue sliding against hers for a moment before pulling away. “I’m happier here, healthier.” So much healthier. “If you should be freaked out about anything, it’s by how much you’ve helped me reconnect with surfing.”
“I’ll never be freaked over that. That’s how we bonded.”
“And thank God for that.” I stand up, keeping her legs wrapped around me, and walk into the living room. “Now let’s go see how well we’ve bonded before you go talk to your parents.”