Page 30 of Debts and Desires
Emmy was asleep on the couch, with Mac snuggled up beside her. He was a lucky son of a bitch. Yeah, I was getting jealous of a fucking dog. It was fine, though. Mac rarely warmed up to new people, if at all. I wasn’t all that surprised when he took to Emmy in the short week she’d been here. What bothered me was his possessiveness. I understood it; I was just as possessive over her, but he was being a downright dick about it.Recently, he started ignoring my commands, looking to Emmy for approval first. Something I’d have to correct soon, the little shit.
I told myself it was because of all the treats she gave him, but I knew that was only part of it. He would’ve warmed up to her anyway. She was sweet like that, and he recognized her as a good one. Mac was a good boy, and I knew he didn’t mean anything by it. But for now, I let it slide because I was a pushover when he gave me those stupid puppy eyes. And he knew it.
I got Mac around seven weeks old, earlier than usual. He and I had a special bond. I know, I know, every owner says that about their pet. But Mac was my soul dog.
I had been helping Ty with the accidental litter of puppies, guilt-tripped into it like an idiot. But I’m glad I was. Ty had a hard time with one of the puppies, the runt. Rejected, bullied, and starved, the little thing became depressed and refused to go to the bathroom. He denies it now, but Ty was hysterical when I got there. I took the pup from him and did my best. For whatever reason, the thing ate for me and then pissed and shit all over me, too. But by then, I was just as distraught over him as Ty, and I didn’t care.
I kept going back to help with the pup until I found myself driving home with the black-and-white little shit in the front seat of my Blazer. He went a few days without a name until I’d left my burger out to answer a phone call. He tore into it immediately. I didn’t scold him; it was hilarious seeing sauce and lettuce on his face. I named him Big Mac, and we’d been best friends since, which made Ty jealous.
I smiled at the memory, still watching Emmy sleep. I wanted to move the hair from her face but didn’t dare try, for fear of waking her. She looked so damn peaceful. I smirked, knowingIwas likely the reason she was so tired. She woke something deep within me, something I tried to keep buried.
I reached down and patted Mac on the head. He let out a low growl when I got too close tohisEmmy. I gave him a warningglare, and he settled. It seemed he was willing to throw our friendship away for her. I shook my head and smiled, understanding. Maybe Ty would reclaim his best friend spot after all.
Tyler owned his late stepfather’s bar, Pete’s Sake, and was my human best friend. He and I had been best friends forever, though he might not have been if he knew the history between his stepsister and me a few years ago. Not that there was much, except thatonetime. According to her, though, there was more. I set her straight pretty quick, but that didn’t stop Cassie from pining after me.
I noticed Emmy’s phone on the coffee table beside her, as if she were waiting for a call or text she’d never get. I didn’t know much about her or her relationships, but I recognized the disappointment on her face when she turned her phone on. I also noticed the lack of buzzing from notifications that should’ve come through when it powered up. I didn’t understand why no one was worried about her. If it were me, I’d tear the town apart looking for her. Seeing her face fall last night did something to me. I didn’t like it. But Ididlike her crawling under the table and giving me the best damn blowjob I’d ever had. That thought made me grin like a Cheshire cat. I continued into the house.
I headed to the kitchen, where I froze. There was food already on the table. She had made lunch, likely trying to get another hour off her total. I sighed. If it were up to me, she would never leave. I wouldn’t let her. That thought made me cringe.
I sounded likehim—my father.
But I couldn’t help it. I had a strong moral code, mostly, until I saw her. That code went out the fucking window, and I knew I had to have her.
You’re just like him.
I shook the thought of that piece of shit away. I wasnothinglike him. I never would be. The self-righteous, hypocritical, good-for-nothing asswipe. He ruined my life, and one day, I’d return the favor. He’d slip up soon enough.
I looked at the food again, and my shoulders sagged. She washellbent on working off as many hours as she could. I couldn’t blame her. I was a prick. I needed to think of something else to add, despite the guilt filling my chest.
I didn’t want to think about it anymore. I told myself it was just a temporary deal despite those little demons in my mind telling me otherwise. Without our arrangement, I had a snowball’s chance in hell with Emmy. An arrangement she sweetened last night with the promise of a “free use” weekend. I’d never been so hard in my life. And that blowjob was seriously one of the best I’d ever had. I couldn’t stop thinking about it or the smile she had after, knowing she had me wrapped around her finger. I was in charge here, not her.
Who was I kidding? She had me by the balls. Literally.
The other night when I’d spanked her, she enjoyed it. She was so wet it drove me crazy. Not to mention, I bit her shoulderlastnight, and she moaned. Fuckingmoaned. She was beyond perfect, and I had no right to keep her. But that wouldn’t stop me from trying.
Initially, I double-checked Emmy's consent several times. Each time, she said she was okay. I was the one reaping all the benefits, mostly. At the very least, I wanted to make sure she enjoyed it, too. But to her, it was probably just a transaction. I knew the sooner I got it over with, the sooner she could leave—if she wanted. A few times I’d fucked her so good she had no choice but to stay in my bed. It was crazy how compatible we were in the sack. Or at least it felt like we were. She never let herself go over the edge, likely because of the transactional nature. That’s why I moved when she was close, so she wouldn’t feel guilty or ashamed later. But, man, the things I would do to hear her sing for me.
I felt like a dick. She was doing a lot of unnecessary shit—like cleaning and now cooking—just to work off a few hours. I understood now, more than ever, that it was only a transaction to her.
I was giving myself a headache with my back and forth.
I ate the sandwiches she made and chased them down withtea. She didn’t budge the whole time I was there. I left without waking her. Otherwise, I’d want to fuck her for the rest of the day. She’d likely be upset that she missed the chance for another hour to be shaved off. I decided I’d give her an extra hour just because I suddenly grew a conscience.
14. THINGS THAT GO BUZZ IN THE NIGHT
September 9
Day Thirteen
137 Hours to Go
It was a Friday night. I’d been here for what felt like too long with too many hours to go still.
Yesterday I had finished cleaning up what I could of the house. I wanted to do some stuff outside, but Carter wouldn’t let me. He claimed that he wanted to be here for that, since there were a lot of things that needed lifted, apparently.
I had just finished cooking dinner when the front door opened. It was almost like clockwork. He hadn’t come home for lunch again today, which was unlike him. Truthfully, Carter was beingweird. Standoffish. He hadn’t done much more talking since the night I apologetically blew him. In fact, he barely spoke at all unless he was telling me to bend over the table. Minus the time I accidentally burnt dinner.
“You should enjoy what you make, Emmy,” he said, switching our plates.
