Page 39 of Beautiful Crazy

He’s fucking smirking.

My face is already pink from the steamy shower, but I can feel my whole body heat up under his intense gaze.

“Nothing really. April just called. We were just…uh, you know, laughing. A couple morning jokes. She’s so funny.” I take a couple more steps and try to fake laugh, but it comes out sounding more like a congested pig.

Emmett steps toward me this time, backing me up against the wall just outside the bathroom and pinning me there with his body. Holy balls, I’m pretty sure I can feel his rhubarb between his shorts and my towel and it’s putting crazy thoughts in my head. With one finger, Emmett traces an invisible line down my neck and throat and down my chest until he reaches the top of my towel.

“Funny jokes, huh? Is that all? Because I could’ve sworn I heard something about me. And hmm, what was it. My hands?”

I try to swallow again but there’s literally no saliva in my mouth to swallow. It’s all cotton-y in there.

It’s cotton.

I have cotton mouth.

Fucking cotton.

“And what else was there…my hands and…there was something else, I can’t remember.”

“Your t-tongue. Dammit.” I squeeze my eyes closed. “I can’t believe I fell for that.”

Emmett laughs and then leans in closer, so his face is only inches from mine. “That’s it. My hands and my tongue.”

The heat leaves my face but moves directly south, all the way to my lady bits. I swear I dried with my towel but I’m suddenly feeling all kinds of wet again. I close my eyes for only a moment but it’s just long enough for him to drag his nose up the side of my neck and behind my ear, inhaling me every inch of the way. If he keeps that up, I’ll go weak in the knees. If he keeps it up, I just might let him have his way.

“Emmett…” I try to say his name but because of my cotton mouth it comes out more like a gasp for air.

“So fucking sweet, Em. Like the sweetest fruit. My only question is…” He reaches down and grasps my hands, our fingers entwined, and lifts my hands above my head, holding them to the door with his own. And now, because I’m not holding it up, my towel starts to loosen.

Oh, my God, what am I going to do if it completely falls away?

What will he do if that happens?

Holy cheeses this is hot.

His breath ignites my skin as his lips graze painstakingly close to my own and whispers against me, “Are you forbidden fruit, Em?”

His eyes pierce mine waiting for a response, but my body is already answering him. My chest rises and falls rapidly as my heart rate speeds up and my teeth pull on my bottom lip to keep me from moaning some ungodly-like sound. This is it. Put up or shut up, right? He’s not just asking if he can kiss me. He’s asking if he can give me what I told April I wanted. But do I want what I now know he’s willing to give?

Is this a boundary we should really be crossing?

What happens if we cross it, and things don’t go well?

How can I trust he won’t leave me?

I don’t want to be without him, but I also don’t want to keep denying my heart what it obviously wants. What both our hearts want.

“Emily…”

“No,” I sigh. “No, I’m not forbidden fruit.”

There. I said it.

God that felt good.

I close my eyes and breathe, reveling in Emmett’s closeness, the feel of his body pressed against mine, and I wait. I wait for his lips that I so badly want to taste. I wait for his hands that I desperately want on my body.

Finally, I open my eyes and Emmett is glowering at me with a satiated smile like I’m his last meal and he wants to appreciate it before he eats it. He inhales a long deep breath, presses his lips to that sweet spot right behind my ear, and says, “Good to know, Em. Mind if I grab a shower?”

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