Page 53 of Emma's Element

“Emma, look at me.” His voice was dark and silky, and she was helpless to obey. She opened her eyes and met his. An expression she’d never seen before in his features. His eyes conveyed everything he was feeling at that moment. Passion, desire, joy and . . . something deeper. She skimmed her hands up and cupped his face. Lifting her head, she met his lips. It was a sweet kiss. One filled with everything she was feeling. Sensations screamed inside her, telegraphing the perfection of the moment. They fit together flawlessly. Their bodies dancing through the moves that were solely theirs.

As the kiss intensified, his hand glided down her body to again find her clit. She threw her head back and gasped as he continued to thrust and tease. Tension built, coiling in her body. Every muscle tightened then exploded in a flood of pulsing sensation. And explode she did. Again. But this time, he followed her over the edge crying out her name.

He dropped to his elbows, his face buried in her neck. The hot puffs of his breath fluttered over her heated skin. Emma’s body hummed, replete. She savored the feeling of his weight crushing her into the mattress as she skated a hand through his hair. He placed little kisses on her neck, and her heart ballooned, expanding against the vise that had gripped her heart for so long until it was near to bursting. The burn of unshed tears stung her eyes, but they were happy tears. She was overjoyed to have him back with her. And to share this wonderful moment with him was beyond compare.

He lifted his head to look into her face just as a tear escaped and slid down her temple. “Hey now,” he crooned softly, wiping the tear away. “What’s this?”

“It’s nothing,” she sniffed. “I’m just happy.” He rolled to her side and gathered her into his arms, holding her close as more tears escaped. “I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered.

“I’ve missed you too,” he confessed, tightening his embrace.

“Really?” She didn’t know why that surprised her. It just did. To think the man who could have any woman he wanted had chosen her was overwhelming. And a little thrilling.

“God, yes,” he answered, kissing her temple. “I’ve been such a fool.”

“Marcus,” she began, shaking her head.

“No, let me get this out,” he insisted. “Now that I know what you’ve been through . . . Shit, Emma. I’m so sorry. If I could have foreseen all this . . .”

“Marcus.”

“How could you possibly still want to be with me? After all the hurt I’ve caused you.”

“I never blamed you. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But none of it would have happened if it wasn’t for me.”

“The amount of happiness I feel whenever I’m with you far exceeds any hardship I may have gone through.” And that was the truth. She’d never felt so connected with someone before. Not even Jolene, her best friend. The connection she had with Marcus went far deeper than friendship. Their mutual interests. Their shared desires. Their passion. It all excited and thrilled her.

“I do not deserve you,” he asserted.

“That may be,” she replied. “But have me, you do.”

Marcusawoketodarknessand an empty bed. Vaguely wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Strawberries and vanilla filled his senses. It hadn’t been a dream. He got out of bed and stepped into his jeans. Leaving the button open, he went in search of his dream.

Padding down the dark hall, he entered the living area. The glow of Emma’s laptop the only light illuminating the room. He leaned against the archway to watch her as she was so completely unaware of his presence. She had a thumb up by her mouth, chewing on the nail, appearing agitated. He frowned, concerned about what could give her that anxious countenance.

“Son of a basket weaving monkey nut,” she seethed. She continued to mutter under her breath. It sounded like a bunch of animals and tools as if she couldn’t find the right curse word to use.

Concerned, he stepped farther into the room. “Emma.” She jolted with a shriek and slammed the lid closed on the laptop. He crossed to her. “I’m sorry,” he soothed, sitting down beside her. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay.” Her thumbnail went back into her mouth. She chewed, avoiding eye contact with him.

He reached over and turned on the table lamp. Then grasped her hand, removing the tormented digit from between her teeth, and placed a kiss on the tip. “What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he noticed her free hand trembled as it rested on the lid of her laptop. “I . . . I need to make a phone call.” She tried to pull her hand out of his, but he tightened his hold.

“Emma, please tell me what’s wrong.”

She sighed, her shoulders drooping. “I don’t know how to tell you.”

“Start at the beginning. What were you doing on the computer?”

“Trying to trace the emails.”

“Were you successful?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

---