Chapter Twelve

Emma

Since Tommy’s death, sleep had become a difficult feat. It was made even more impossible knowing that Dylan was right across the hall, sleeping on my couch. Tommy snuggled in beside me on the thin queen-size mattress that folded out from the couch. The apartment was only two bedrooms, and I hadn’t wanted to kick either my mom or Kate from their beds. We’d been there for a week, and I knew we’d be moving back to our apartment shortly. Now that Tommy’s funeral was off my plate I could focus on reworking the schedule at the diner so that I could stay home in the mornings and see Tommy off to school.

For the third time since turning out the light, I threw the covers aside and slipped from the bed. I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge. As I drank I tapped my nails on the counter. My gaze drifted to the door. Was Dylan awake, too? If he was, was he thinking about me? His words from before came back to me. In a way, I agreed with him. Sleeping together was probably not a good idea. I doubted we’d be able to find one person who would approve. Not even Kate. She liked to tease me about it, but when it came right down to it, I wasn’t sure what she’d say. I hadn’t confirmed the truth to her, but my sister was a smart girl—sometimes too smart—and she’d have put the pieces together after I’d chased after Dylan following Jimmy’s wake and shortly after that, took my wedding ring off.

I stared at the door wondering how long was long enough? If we wanted to be together would people be okay with it if we let time pass? And if so, how much time? Six months? A year? Longer?

I finished the water and went back to bed. I tried to push the thoughts from my mind. Dylan wasn’t interested in starting something serious with me. I was recently widowed and had a five-year-old child. He was a Navy SEAL with the whole world to conquer. He wasn’t going to give that up to become an instant dad. Especially not when little Tommy was a permanent reminder of the way I’d hurt him all those years ago.

Another hour ticked by, and I only became more restless. Tommy stirred beside me and mumbled something under his breath. His eyes remained closed and moments later he lulled back to sleep. I slid from the bed, wrapped a robe around myself, and tiptoed out of the apartment. I got to my door and realized I didn’t have a way in. I’d given my keys to Dylan. Wincing, I raised a hand and knocked softly. I told myself that if he didn’t answer I’d take that as a sign and leave it alone.

Moments later, the door opened and Dylan stood there bare-chested. “Em? Is everything okay?”

It was impossible not to stare at him. In the frenzied heat of the moment days before, I hadn’t taken the time to truly appreciate just how much he’d changed. His broad chest was filled out with smooth, rock-hard muscles that went all the way down his sculpted torso. He had a tattoo over his heart. Something navy-ish. I wanted to ask him what it meant, but I was speechless. His perfectly segmented abs led to the low waist of his boxer briefs, and when my eyes went that far south every cell in my body went on high alert. Heat tingled inside me, and my mind filled with a surge of flashbacks of the searing sensations given by his fingers and lips.

I dragged my gaze back up to meet his. If he’d noticed me staring he didn’t show it. “I can’t sleep,” I told him.

He nodded. “Do you want to come inside?”

The question was loaded. We both knew it.

If I went inside there was only one possible outcome. But I wasn’t about to deny it. I met his eyes and grinned. “Hell yeah, I want to come inside.”

He took a step back and let me in.

“Did I wake you?” I asked once we were seated beside each other on the couch. He’d taken a sheet from the linen closet and draped it over the couch and snagged one of the throw pillows I usually kept on the recliner. From the wrinkled look of the sheets he’d been doing a lot of his own tossing and turning.

Dylan shook his head and sipped at one of the beers he’d grabbed from the fridge once I was inside. “No. I’m still a little wired.”

“Thanks for dealing with those guys.”

“Of course.”

“Did you... I mean they didn’t look like they were in very good shape when they left.”

Dylan cringed. “You should’ve been upstairs.”

I scoffed and took a sip of my beer. “’Cause I’m some dainty princess who can’t hold her own? You know better than that.”

“I do. But still, Em. It wasn’t safe. You should’ve listened to me. You should’ve trusted me.”

I glanced up at him. “I do trust you. More than anyone.”

Dylan frowned.

“I haven’t told anyone the things I told you the other day. About Tommy and me.” I sighed. “Kate knows more than anyone, but I haven’t even told her the worst of it. The names he called me and the threats he made to keep me from taking Tommy and leaving. I guess in some stupid way I wanted to protect him. Or maybe it was just that I didn’t want anyone to talk about us. I didn’t want people to say, ‘I told you so’.”

“Why would anyone say that?”

I leaned against the beat up cushions of the couch. “Tommy was the rebound guy. Everyone knew it, even Tommy. Everyone said I was only with him so I didn’t miss you so much,” I replied.

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Emma. It was never my intention.”

I nodded. “I know that.”

I leaned forward and set my beer on the coffee table. “Can we just be together tonight? No talking, no thinking, just us”

“Emma. . .”

“It’s okay, Dylan. I’m all grown up now. You don’t have to protect my feelings. I know what I’m doing.” I reached for his beer and placed it on the table beside mine. “I know what I want.”

As though triggered by my words, Dylan surged forward and kissed me hard and fast. Before I could even catch my breath from the deep kiss, he was stripping off the robe around me. I wore a long t-shirt underneath, and Dylan’s hand slid up my thigh right under the hem. A growl erupted from the back of his throat when he found my pussy wet and ready without another layer of fabric between us. As he stroked my clit with his fingers I arched back against the couch. My nipples poked through the t-shirt, and he dipped down to capture one between his lips. Impatient, he plunged a finger deep inside me.

Dylan remembered every inch of my body. Years may have passed, but it was like he’d stored a map of me somewhere in his mind, saving it for just this moment. He had me on the brink of orgasm within minutes. I panted and clung to his bare shoulders as he slid his fingers deep inside me. When he crooked his finger and caressed my g-spot with skilled precision, tingles went all through my body, practically paralyzing me. A few more strokes and a hot rush flooded out of me like a monsoon.

He stripped the t-shirt off me and threw it between my thighs to soak up some the juices that poured from me following the intense climax. I raked my fingers over his short hair and watched him move between my legs. “How are you so damn good at that?” I asked with a smile.

He looked up at me, and breathed, “’Cause I know you, baby. I know what you like.”

He watched my eyes as he moved down my body, leaving trails of kisses until he reached my pussy.

He stuck out his tongue, teasing my lips. My whole body was buzzing, and he seemed to enjoy watching me. Seeing his eyes on me only made me hotter. He slid his finger down my slit, and I damn near went over the edge again.

I dug my fingernails into the sculpted muscles of his back and tried to pull him up. “Baby, I want you. Inside me.” My words came out as a desperate plea. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

He flashed a wicked grin. “Always happy to give my lady what she wants.”