HAPPY FOREVER AFTER

Daniel turned from his silent-okay, brooding- study of the scenery passing by the car window to look at Emma .

She had been quiet since they had left the party ten minutes earlier. No, she had been distant since returning from the restroom.

And Michelle had followed a couple minutes behind her, wearing a sly grin. Personal experience had taught him his ex could be a malicious bitch. Had she said something to Emma? Had Michelle hurt her? A wave of protectiveness had surged inside him, and he had just managed to check the impulse to drag Emma onto his lap and demand answers.

To ease the tension that had strung her shoulders tight. To assure her that if Michelle had sharpened that dagger she called a tongue against Emma, he would fix it. Instead, he had remained sitting beside her at the table, until they could politely leave.

Disgust ate at him like a caustic acid. Disgust with himself. He had brought her there and hadn’t shielded her.

“What is wrong, Emma?” he asked finally.

“Don’t talk to me right now,” Emma replied.

“You will answer me,” he replied. “What happened with Michelle?”

“You knew Michelle, your ex would be there tonight. Didn’t you?” Emma asked.

Daniel stared at her, not even debating whether to give her the truth or not. “Of course I did. She is a business associate.”

“And you didn’t think to warn me?” She shook her head.

The disappointment in her voice, as if he had somehow let her down, raked over his skin. Burrowed beneath it.

He hated it.

Dipping his head, he leaned closer until only inches separated them. So close her breath ghosted over his lips. “I’m so sorry,” he said.” I really am”

“Maybe she was right,” Emma said.

He stiffened, his suspicions confirmed.

Slowly, he straightened and shifted on the seat, meeting her gaze again..

“What did she say to you?” he growled.

“Nothing I didn’t already know,” she replied, her full bottom lip trembling before she seemed to catch the betraying sign. Her teeth sank into the sensual curve.

“What did she say to you, Emma?” he repeated, grounding out the question between clenched teeth.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“That you were using me to get her jealous. That she could have you back if she wanted. She…” Emma paused, and something flickered in her eyes. “Is it true?” she asked.

“No it’s not” he said, then clasped her hand in his. “I want you to ignore her. I promise it’s not true at all. Whatever happened between us has ended. And I’m not… Using you. I need you to believe me, Emma.” he paused, then asked. “Do you?”

Emma stared at him, she wanted to believe him so bad. “I believe you,” she said.

“Good” he said. “I’m glad you came with me today, and I don’t care what anyone says, you are smart, and beautiful and I was the happiest man in that room”.

He placed a kiss in the center of her palm, then tracing a path to her wrist. His lips pressed there over her pulse, and her lashes fluttered down.

But at the damp flick of his tongue, she gasped, eyes flying open. Liquid heat pooled between her legs, and she didn’t even try to contain her whimper.

“You are spending the night with me, Emma,” he said. “In my bed.”

—————–

Emma tried to tell herself that she was too ordinary for a man like Daniel. She tried to tell herself that she would pay for this dip into sin in ways countless and unforeseeable, that she was doing the exact thing she had sworn was the worst thing she could do … but she wasn’t listening to herself. She didn’t care. She knew what she had gotten into, and that it was likely to be very untidy, quite complicated.

She forgot all about Michelle. How could she think of anything else when he was holding her…. Touching her like that.

A warm, laugh laden breath burst gently into Emma’s own open mouth, followed immediately by a soft groan that sent tickling reverberations down her throat, and lower.

They were in Daniel’s house, by his pool, sipping champagne.

The moon had retreated, but the splash of lights from the trees remained and bathed them in a luminous glow that seemed the very aura of their desire.

Emma rubbed her cheek against Daniel’s jaw and neck, and then against the hard curve of his shoulder. Arms tightened around her, hands seized and searched the flesh of her back as if to give comfort. But it wasn’t comfort that was being offered. The intoxicating scent of Daniel’s body – a hint of spice and soap – slipped through her common sense and reason.

He inhaled sharply, then put his glass down. He took hers from her as well.

“Emma,” he whispered as his hand pulled her close. His lips brushed hers lightly, rubbed back and forth with such gentle teasing. Her eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled his champagne breath, as she relaxed her body, leaning against him, letting his strength carry her.

His hand skimmed over her back, over the bare skin above her dress, almost tickling, sensitizing, making her fight not to move.

A touch of his tongue on her lower lip, a sigh, his other hand stroked her arm as if she were a pampered cat. She held onto him, rocked ever so slightly back and forth as she tasted him, then withdrew.

“Emma,” he murmured her name so she could taste it, then the kiss deepened.

The sultry air, the echo of their breathing, the shivery tingles from his teasing touch… Aware of each, aware of nothing but the promise of the next second.

He caressed her with the light, padded curve of his thumb, bringing it back down along the arch of her cheek, then running it along her lips. “What do you want me to do to you?” He asked softly.

“To me?” she asked with interest, eyelids lowering another notch.

“To you, with you … for you.”

“Everything,” she said, leaning forward to swipe another taste of his lips.

“That sounds perfect.” He traced, with kisses, the line his thumb had made.

“I thought so.” she said.

She melted. Rowed into a puddle of mush as he showed her again why he was the sexiest man she had ever met. He stroked, sucked, darted, lingered in a way that brought the simple kiss into the realm of high art.

He did something seriously hot with the tip of his tongue, and her fingers corded through his hair to make absolutely, positively certain he wasn’t going anywhere.