Page 45 of Lost the Handle

Chapter

Nineteen

Quinn

“Behave.”

Emery’s wide eyes darken, the gray turning to storm clouds as her lips curve up into the kind of smirk that makes it really hard to remember she isn’t my bride. Her thighs are squeezed tight together, her black nails digging into the flesh where I want my nails. The contrast of her nails to her skin has me fighting for breath, but then I notice her nipples are hard against her shirt while her face flushes with the same pink that her pussy was last night.

The same pussy that my name was so close to.

The same pussy I want more than I want my next meal.

With her voice deep and sultry in a way that has me wanting to fuck her until she can’t walk, she asks, “Do you really want me to?”

No, I don’t fucking want her to.

I don’t want to behave.

But I have to.

Without another word, I hightail it out of there and go to my room. Then I’m pacing, my heart slamming hard againstmy chest as I pant. My cock is throbbing in my shorts, my balls aching to the point I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I swallow, and without much thought, I head to the bathroom. I turn on the shower before quickly making sure the door to her room is locked before ripping off my clothes. I need a shower, but I need to fucking come more than that. I step under the cold stream, hoping it’ll cool me down, but it doesn’t.

I don’t think anything will.

What was I fucking doing in there? I only wanted to check in on her, but then I started talking and couldn’t stop. I couldn’t get enough of how fucking sexy she looked on her knees before me. How her shirt rode up those thighs and her eyes never left mine. She is fucking stunning, even hungover. I said entirely too much, and I couldn’t stop myself from asking her to sit down with me. There is so much that needs to be said, and I realize that, but what could possibly come of it? I can’t call off the wedding with Ava, so do I tell Emery the truth? Do I brace myself for the hurricane that will develop once she knows?

I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to do here?

Follow my heart and lose everything?

Or continue as a hollow shell of a man and keep everything I’ve worked for?

This is a fucking disaster.

I don’t even know if I can handle a conversation with Emery, but damn it, I want to.

Just as I want to fucking come before I die.

I grip my cock. It’s harder than steel, pulsing in my grip as I give myself a tug. I run my thumb along the tip, hissing out a breath as I think of her hands on me. Her nails digging into my thigh as she strokes my cock with her other hand. How her eyes would be dark and hooded, only on me as she pulled me from root to tip. She looks divine on her knees for me. Wanton, needy, and all fucking mine. But like the naughty little lovebug she is,she wouldn’t be satisfied with just touching me—no, my baby would want to taste me. She’d want to choke on my cock and draw her name from my lips. I start to tug harder, heat gathering in my spine as I imagine her mouth around my cock. My grip tightens as my head falls back, my breaths coming out in pants as I imagine Emery taking my cock so deep into her mouth until she gags and those stubborn eyes weep for me.

I groan deep in my chest as I become frantic, needing the release as I jerk myself faster. My eyes close tightly, and I swear I can see her before me. Her sultry eyes begging for my come to cover her sharp tongue. Her eyes would widen, tears streaming, and I’d rub them away. I’d stroke her cheeks and praise her for being so damn good for me. For taking me so fucking well.

It’s that thought that has me exploding everywhere.

Jets of come cover the shower walls as I slam my fist into the tile, a guttural moan leaving my lips that sounds very much like a name this engaged man shouldn’t be moaning. I tug a few more times, my breathing ragged as I draw in deep lungfuls of air. My body is tingling, my heart is hammering, and fucking hell, I’m not even the least bit satisfied.

I don’t think I will be until it’s her I’m coming in.

Fuck.

I open my eyes, glaring at the ceiling as that thought plays on a loop in my head. This is not going well for me, and I don’t know what else to do but keep pushing her away. Problem is, I don’t want to. I want to tell her I love her. I want to beg her to be mine. I want so many fucking things, but they aren’t within my reach. Not while I’m with the one person who is slowly but surely killing me.

With Emery here, a year from now seems like eons away.

I bite my lip as I let my head fall forward, only to find myself still strangling my semi-hard dick. I glare at it, wishing it weren’tso obsessed with her. Damn thing has a mind of its own, and Emery stays on it.

Same, bud. Same.

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