“You trust me?”
She nodded, a lump forming in her throat.
A slow smile spread across his lips and he slid down the length of her, taking his time. His hands went to her hips, playing with the edge of her panties.
She glanced down and grimaced at the sight of her pale gray cotton underwear. Not exactly sex goddess material. He pressed a slow, savoring kiss right below her belly button. Her nerves sparked like they were shot with electricity. His hand drifted lower and she gasped, jumping at the intimate press of his fingers, certain he felt the wild hammering of her pulse.
She was panting now, embarrassing little whimpers she couldn’t stop.
“Emmaline, can I touch you?” The rough catch in his voice was the sexiest thing she ever heard.
She nodded and his hand slipped inside her panties. Sensation bombarded her as his fingers slicked through her. He made a strangled sound as he eased a finger inside.
Oh goodness.
She hardly ever heard of this happening. At school, it was usually about the girls doing for the boys—about blowjobs in the back seat of cars. All to satisfy some boy, and then the boys were quick to share all the intimate details of those trysts later so that the girl faced plenty of ridicule and scorn.
The boys were never scorned. Only the girls. That never struck her as fair. The injustice of it actually made her mad when she thought about it.
Right now this was all about her. About Beau giving her pleasure.
Shudders racked her as his fingers stroked in and out of her. He even used the base of his palm, building a delicious pressure that unraveled her. She arched off the bed with a cry.
He pressed his mouth close to her ear to breath her name, “Emmaline.”
She held tightly onto his shoulders, clinging to him as an orgasm eddied over her.
They stayed frozen, moments stretching out between them. His hands slipped out from her panties and he pulled her into a hug, holding her.
She cuddled close to him, glad for this moment. She didn’t know if it would be like this tomorrow or ever again, so she simply held on to him.
“Beau?” she whispered, not even sure what she was going to say.
“Hm, Pigeon?” Everything melted inside her at the nickname. Bones, muscle, sinew. She exhaled, relaxed.
A soft creak killed her lethargy. Tension rushed in. She knew the sound of her door opening. The hinges had needed greasing for a long time now.
Her arms tightened around Beau, squeezing. She knew it was probably the opposite reaction she should be having. She should be shoving him off her and grabbing some clothes. She should be hiding Beau.
She should be learning how to disappear—or better yet, how to make Beau disappear.
Instead, she peered over Beau’s shoulder, hoping it wouldn’t be that bad.
Except it was bad. She couldn’t breathe. Her airways constricted to the point of pain.
It wasn’t Mom. It was Nolan . . . and he was staring right at Emmaline. At Emmaline and Beau. In bed together.
Lesson #29
Not every surprise is fun.
x Nolan x
Ever since Nolan left Hayden’s, his every step felt like it was attached to an anchor, threatening to pull him down.
He assumed his sister was asleep. The lack of light creeping out from beneath her door pointed to that. But just in case she was watching Netflix on her laptop in the dark, as she often did, he decided to pop in and see how her night went. It couldn’t be worse than his night. Maybe she could distract him with a good story—or whatever new show she was marathoning.
He shook his head. The night had started out great with Hayden. Even with her ultimatum. Yeah, she had warned him they would only have a physical relationship, but he hadn’t really thought that through. It sounded easy when she said they would only have a fling. Most guys would love that. Apparently, he wasn’t most guys.
Now he understood that he could not disengage the emotional from the physical. Not when it came to her. There was something about him . . . something about her. Something he couldn’t walk away from. He wanted more from her. More than a hookup.
Where had tonight gone all wrong? Even as he asked himself the question, he knew when it fell apart.
It went wrong the moment her mom showed up. Then it went even more downhill when he had opened his mouth and started giving his opinion like he knew what he was talking about. Like he knew what it was like to be in her shoes and live her life.
Nolan knew hardship. He’d lost his dad. He lived with that gaping hole inside him every day. But he never for one moment lived under a roof where he did not feel safe and loved. That was her burden, and who was he to judge how she managed it? She had made it this far without him.
He knew she didn’t need him, but he wanted her to want him.
At least Nolan had his family. He could always count on them.
He eased open Emmaline’s door slowly, just in case she was asleep.
The room was mostly dark. She had left her lava lamp burning, casting the room in a reddish light. Mom was always on her about turning it off at night so that she didn’t burn the house down.
He took a step inside the room, assuming she’d fallen asleep and intending to turn off the lamp for her. They would talk tomorrow. Maybe they could hang out.
That’s when a movement on the bed caught his eye. He stopped and frowned. The shapes were all wrong. Too many. Not just one body.
Two bodies.
Two people . . . but that didn’t make sense. He didn’t think she was having a sleepover. Beau had dropped her home alone. Sanjana was sleeping at Hayden’s house.
He squinted, narrowing his eyes through the gloom, focusing on a face.
A face that wasn’t Emmaline’s.
Beau’s face. Staring right back at him.
It didn’t compute. What was Beau doing here? On his sister’s bed? In his sister’s bed? With his sister?
He was slow to process what his eyes were seeing. It was too incredible.
Impossible.
“What . . . the . . . ?”
Nolan never saw it coming. Never suspected Beau would do something like this.
His gaze drifted from Beau’s face to his sister. She looked horrified. It was that expression . . . it told him everything. One look at her face confirmed it.
Beau was screwing around with his sister and he’d caught them in the act.
That knowledge rolled over and over in his mind. There was no justification for it. No excuse.
Beau stood up, shirtless . . . and the sight of that—with his sister in the background, scrambling for her clothes on her bed—ignited him.
He charged forward. No longer the composed one. Not the cool-headed one. Not anymore. He snapped.
Beau held up a hand. “Nolan, man, let me explain . . . It’s not what—”
“It’s not what I think?” He waved at his sister. “You’re not in bed with my sister right now? ’Cause that’s what it looks like.”
Beau grimaced. “Okay. I know it looks bad.”
Nolan barked a single laugh. “You forget who you’re talking to. I know you. I know what you do to girls . . . how you use them.”
Beau flinched. “I wouldn’t—”
Nolan was in front of Beau in three strides, unable to let the lie even drop on the air. He shoved him hard in the chest. Beau staggered.
“But you did, Beau. You went there. You just couldn’t help yourself. You could bang any number of girls out there, but you had to go after my sister.”