Page 79 of Engulfing Emma

“You’re not playing fair,” she says when I pull away.

I take a fresh drink from a passing waitress and raise my glass. “All’s fair in love and war.”

She raises a brow at me. “Which do you think this is, love or war?”

I lean into her and say, “You tell me.”

I watch the movement of her throat as she swallows.

I spend the next hour teasing and toying with her. And taunting Andrew. Who knew this night would turn out to be so much fun?

The elevator attendant smiles at us when we step into the car. He remembers us from earlier. But this car is full. We won’t be putting on a show this time.

We back into the far corner, making room for the others. As we start our descent and the others talk about their evening, she becomes uncomfortable again. Not as bad as on the way up, but there is a lot of tension on her face.

I run my hand sensually down the back of her dress, starting at her shoulders and ending between her legs. I can feel her body heat through the thin material of her dress.

“Brett,” she whispers in warning.

Knowing nobody can see, I squeeze one of the globes of her ass and then run a finger between her ass cheeks. I lean close so only she can hear. “Do the others touch you here? Do they make you squirm like I do? I know how you like it. I know every inch of you, and I’m going to make you come so hard, you won’t ever want to scream anyone’s name but mine.”

She blows out a long, controlled breath and shifts her weight from foot to foot.

When we reach the lobby, I lead her to the street and hail a cab. After we get in, I ask, “Am I getting off on your side of the street or mine?” I lay a finger across her mouth to silence her before she can answer. “Because either way, I’m getting off.”

She nibbles her lip and smiles.

~ ~ ~

Forty-five minutes and two Emma orgasms later, I’m once again being kicked out of her bed.

Before I put my clothes on, I use her bathroom. I leave a lipstick message that I know she’ll erase as soon as I leave.

BRETT – 2

ANDY/MONTY/TONY – 0

I look at what I wrote, knowing it’s tonight’s score, but what about every other night? The nights I’m at work—who is she inviting into her bed then?

I stand naked in the bathroom doorway. “I don’t think you should go out with anyone else.”

She pulls her robe on. “Are you having fun with me?”

“Of course.”

“Then why rock the boat? We don’t need to put a label on anything, do we? I’m not dating anyone. I go out to dinner sometimes. Sometimes I go up in tall buildings. Can we just leave it at that?”

“I don’t want to leave it at that. We’re obviously into each other. The sex is off-the-charts fantastic. Do you plan to use me until you find the guy you want to marry?”

“Whoa, who said anything about getting married? I’m not looking for that.”

“I didn’t say I was either, but I’m also not wild about dipping my stick in the community pot, if you get my drift.”

“Are you calling me a slut?”

“If the fuck-me heels fit.”

I half expect her to slap me. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t even yell at me.

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