Page 54 of Snowed In with Four Firemen
“No, it’s just all been too much.”
She doesn’t look at me, her lips pressed tightly together, and I can tell she’s trying to hold it all in.
We make it to the elevator, and as the doors close behind us, she finally breaks the silence. “Whit cheated on me.” Her voice is low, barely above a whisper, but it’s laced with so much hurt that it punches me right in the gut. “Then he blamed me for it. Said I wasn’t…skinny enough. Hot enough for him. And now he’s shaming me for…” She drifts off.
I want to find that bastard and make him pay for every word he’s ever said to her, but right now, my focus is on Emily. She’s standing there, staring at the floor like she’s trying to shrink into herself, like she believes the garbage Whit spewed at her.
“He changed so quickly,” she continues, her voice trembling. “Not that he ever adored me, but I thought…I don’t know whatI thought.” She laughs bitterly, shaking her head. “The whole relationship was one-sided. I guess I just didn’t see it.”
I step closer, careful not to crowd her. “Emily,” I say softly, “he’s an idiot. You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”
She glances up, meeting my eyes in the mirrored elevator.
I can see it in how she looks at herself like she doesn’t believe me. Like she’s been conditioned to think she’s anything less than stunning.
I move behind her, close enough to feel her warmth but not touching her, just watching her reflection. My heart pounds as I look at her. She’s shorter than me by at least six or seven inches, and her curves fill out her frame in an utterly mesmerizing way. Her breath hitches at my closeness, her breasts slightly heaving and all I want to do is cup them in my hands, feeling their weight on my palms.
“Look at yourself, Emily. Look at how beautiful you are.” My voice is low, reverent.
I can see her face flushing.
“If Whit couldn’t see it, that’s his loss. I would—” I stop myself before I say too much, but the thought rushes through my mind:I would worship the ground you walk on.
She turns her head slightly, glancing at me in the mirror, and for a second, her eyes soften.
We’re close enough to kiss. All she needs to do is tilt her head toward me.
“You’re perfect,” I tell her quietly. And I mean it. Every inch of her, every curve, every feature—she’s perfect. Whit never deserved her. But if she’d let me…I’d show her what it means to be adored.
The elevator finally comes to a halt at her floor, and I walk her to her room. We stop in front of her door, and I’m trying to steady my breathing, trying to calm the storm that’s been building inside me.
She turns toward me, her eyes searching mine. There’s something vulnerable in her expression, something raw, and for a second, neither of us says anything. The silence is thick between us, and I can feel my pulse pounding in my ears.
She shifts her weight, looking down at the floor, then back up at me. “Do you…do you want to come in?” Her voice is quiet, almost tentative, and it’s like a dam inside me finally breaks.
I know I should say no, but with the way she’s looking at me right now—like she’s asking me for more than just my company—my resolve crumbles.
Without thinking, I nod, and she steps back, opening the door for me. My heart races as I follow her inside, and the moment the door clicks shut behind us, I know there’s no turning back.
The room feels smaller now, more intimate. I take a breath, trying to keep control, but when I look at her—really look at her, standing so close, her lips slightly parted—I can’t hold back any longer. Every ounce of restraint I’ve been clinging to vanishes, and I close the distance between us in one quick step.
I kiss her, hard, passionately, like I’ve been holding this in for too long. Her lips are soft against mine, warm, and she responds instantly, kissing me back with a hunger that matches my own. I cup her face, pulling her closer, needing to feel every inch of her against me.
I scoop her up in my arms, the softness of her body molding perfectly against mine. Her lips never leave mine as I carry her to the bed.
“Emily,” I murmur against her lips, my voice rough.
Her hands are in my hair, pulling me back down to her, and I can’t resist. I kiss her again, harder, deeper, as I help slide her jacket off her shoulders. She’s so warm, her skin soft beneath my fingertips.
I can feel her breath hitch as my hands move lower, tugging at the hem of her shirt. Slowly, I lift it up, breaking the kiss only long enough to pull it over her head before pressing my lips back to hers. Her fingers are working on my shirt now, fumbling as she pulls it off and tosses it aside, her hands immediately finding my skin.
It’s like we can’t get close enough.
My hands move to her waist, sliding down to unbutton her jeans. She arches her back, helping me ease them off, and soon, they’re on the floor with the rest of our clothes. And then her bra is gone as well, and her perfect tits spill out.
I pause for a moment, looking down at her. Soft curves, ivory skin… she’s stunning.
I lean down, brushing my lips against her collarbone, trailing kisses down her breasts, savoring every little gasp, every soft moan she makes. I finally do what I’ve been dreaming of doing.
