Shit. I wanted to f**k her. In her parents’ house. This was bad. I couldn’t let this happen. She was grinding against my dick. “Emmy, no.”
I lifted her off me and set her on the sofa beside me.
Not wasting any time, she started untying the drawstring on my shorts. Instead of stopping her somehow, my hips lifted, allowing her to tug the shorts down my thighs. My dick sprang free, resting against my belly.
Emmy licked her lips then dropped down to her knees in front of me.
Fuuuck. The eager-to-please look in her eyes was so incredibly sexy. But seeing her on her knees in front of me was almost my undoing. I wanted nothing more than to feel her mouth around my dick and I wouldn’t stop her now.
Emmy’s soft hand closed around me, and my head dropped back against the sofa. She stroked me slowly from base to tip. My body reacted to the simple contact, fluid beading as she stroked me. I was powerless to stop it. Fuck it. I pushed my shorts to my ankles and brought a hand to the back of Emmy’s head, guiding her mouth down to my needy cock.
I watched her lips close around me and I was lost. She might feign innocence, but shit, she was good at giving head.
Her mouth opened wider and her cheeks hollowed out as she sucked me deeper.
“Ah, shit, baby.” I guided her, showing her I wanted it deep, and Emmy happily obliged, taking every inch.
She had the distinct ability to make me feel things I’d never felt before. It had never been just sex with her. She was pleasing me, taking care of me, putting my needs first. It overwhelmed me and a feeling of being loved settled over me.
I’d never wanted to label things, to plan out every last detail of my life, and just the words “holy matrimony” made my skin itch. It just wasn’t in my DNA. But if anyone had the ability to change my mind, it’d be this girl. I couldn’t let her leave me, which meant I might need to rethink my future of bouncing from city to city.
But for now, I focused on the beautiful girl on her knees in front of me, enjoying the mind-numbing bliss she was delivering. And Emmy, ever the devoted lover, gave an amazing performance, her hands stroking, her tongue lapping against me, and little groans escaping her throat as she got into it.
“Come here, beautiful.” I lifted her under her arms, pulling her into my lap again, and lowered my head to taste her br**sts. Thrusting her chest out, Emmy whimpered as my tongue flicked back and forth over each swollen nub. I covered her mouth with one hand and worked the other into the front of her sweatpants.
I was unaware of anything but her so the rattling noise across the room took me a few seconds too long to realize it was the front door opening.
Emmy
Ben’s incredibly skilled mouth teased my br**sts, and just as his long fingers were about to reach my sex he suddenly pulled away, tossing me off his lap and onto the cushion next to him.
What the?
I followed his worried stare across the room.
Shit!
Porter was home.
He stood facing the couch, an angry scowl stretched across his normally relaxed face. “Fuck! That’s my sister, dude!” He took a threatening step closer.
Ben shot up from the couch, tugging his athletic shorts into place. “My bad, dude.” He held his hands up in front of him, palms facing Porter.
The vein in Porter’s neck was throbbing and his fists clenched at his sides.
Oh, God. This wasn’t good.
I leapt up from the couch, pushing my palms against Porter’s chest to get him to back off. “Porter, this was my fault. Ben said we couldn’t.” My brother’s face twisted in revulsion as he realized that yes, his sister liked sex and even initiated it. Too bad. That was a damn fact of life. Hi, have you seen my boyfriend?
“Not cool, Emerson. Get your ass to bed. In your own room.”
My cheeks heated and I nodded. Stealing one last glance at Ben, who was now smirking, I scurried off down the hall.
• • •
My father carried the massive golden-brown turkey to the table, setting it down with an expression of reverence. It didn’t matter that we were dining in our dingy, old trailer; we had one another, and family meant everything.
Once the turkey was carved and plated and the side dishes were served up in heaping spoonfuls, my father said a blessing and we quickly dug in.
Mmmmm . . .
This was why I came home for Thanksgiving. Right here.
Ben wiped his mouth across the napkin and turned to my mom. “This is delicious, Mrs. Clarke.”
My mom smiled widely. She enjoyed feeding people even more than I did. It ran in the family.
“Porter’s thinking about joining the military,” my dad announced. Of course I’d known this. My mom had called me in a panic, but we hadn’t actually discussed it yet. My eyes went to Porter’s and he gave me a weak smile. The pride in my father’s expression was evident. I knew he was hoping Porter would find his way, do something with his life. In many ways, Porter had grown up a lot since I had left him. He was more than a head taller than me, with lots more muscle too, yet he was still stuck here, living at home, figuring out his path.
“I think that’s terrific,” Ben commented, addressing Porter. “Have you enlisted yet?”
Porter shook his head and set down his knife beside his plate. I knew no one wanted to mention the events that led to him considering joining the service. After high school he floundered a bit, going out too often, and went through about every girl in this town and the next while he waited for our sweet neighborhood girl, Eden, to grow up a bit and notice him. When that didn’t happen, he’d gone on a bender and gotten arrested for drunk driving one night. My parents had recently given him an ultimatum: Grow up and do something with your life, or get out. We’d yet to see what he’d actually do.