Page 37 of No Sweet Goodbyes

Since the moment I got home, I’ve wanted to kick everyone out of my house and off my property so that I can go to her.

So that I can beg Emma to forgive me.

Then I see her standing in my yard, and nothing else in the world exists.

She’s here, and I don’t have to kick anyone out.

I don’t care that her brother is here, or anyone else for that matter.

She looks away, and I can practically taste the panic I can see on her face.

But her body knows mine, and when I march directly through my yard to her side, she leans into my body before she realizes I’m here.

This. This is what I care about.

I don’t even care that she took off my shirt. I’ve got plenty of time to get her in another one.

I care about this kiss and holding her in my arms.

I care about the way her body literally melts into mine, fitting perfectly against me. Branding me in a way nothing else could.

That’s the danger of caving to my feelings for her. Emma won’t just belong to me. I’ll belong to her. From now until my last breath.

I’ll do anything for her.

I will wait a hundred years if it means that I can kiss her again.

Nothing else matters.

There was a time in my life when I thought that passion was made up. That the people around me were joking or kidding when they talked about being crazy over another person. But that was before Emma walked into my life and knocked me on my ass.

When I finally break away from our kiss, mostly to catch my breath and to smile at her, I rest my forehead against hers while keeping my eyes closed.

“You know everyone saw that, right?” I can barely hear her over the roaring of blood in my ears, even though our faces are touching.

“I don’t give a shit,” I tell her.

I set her down, letting her body slide against mine so she can see exactly how little I care that anyone watched us kiss.

“When I walk away, everyone’s going to see your dick.” She laughs, her cheeks flushed, and I can’t help but lower my face to hers so that I can claim her lips again, this time briefly.

There are hoots and hollers from our friends, but none of them break through the bubble between us.

“What are you talking about?”

Emma leans back slightly. “You’re wearing gray sweatpants.” She stares down pointedly at my dick, but I don’t see what she’s talking about when I try and follow.

“Okay?”

“Trust me.”

With a smile, I pull her back against my body, turning her so that her ass hits my front. “Okay.”

I take her seat by the fire, and Emma tumbles into my lap because there isn’t anywhere else for her to go. “Oomph. What was that for?”

“You said they’d notice, bonita. That means you have to help solve the problem. At least until they leave.”

Plus, I can give her payback for the t-shirt situation at work.

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