Dani Something changes after we make the vow to each other that there’s no one else in this relationship but us. We’re no longer toeing the line between acc eptable and not. With eyes wide open, we’ve decided to pursue whatever spark exists between us. I should be scared. A month ago, this type of commitment would have sent me running. Now, all I want to do is tangle myself up in Emil. Judging by the dark hunger in his own eyes, he feels the same—so that’s what we do. Daytime is for the kids, for work. But nighttime is for Emil and me. Every time I have to leave his bedroom feeling thoroughly sated and happy—sometimes in the early hours of the morning—it tugs at something in my heart. I realize I want to stay with Emil. I want to wake up next to him. I want this to be a daytime relationship, too, not just something we do when darkness falls like a heavy blanket. A week passes. Two. Every kiss I share with Emil sends me burrowing down into my feelings for him. It terrifies me, of course, to care about someone like this. But in his arms, I know I’m safe. The day of Benny and Jane Eldridge’s seventh birthday party, Emil comes home from work at eleven o’clock to find us dressed in our finest and ready to head across town. His eyes drift over my simple summer dress, heat flaring in those grey-blue irises. I clamp my thighs together, remembering the look in his eyes when he devoured me last night, the only sounds in the house my muffled moans and his needy grunts. But it’s daytime now. Talia is bouncing off the walls, and Francis follows her around, giggling his little heart out. Emil re-emerges from his bedroom wearing jeans and a plain white T-shirt, and I nearly faint at the sight of him. The man looks good in a suit. Damn good. But this casual side of him? It feels like a treat not many people get to see. He meets my gaze, giving me a smirk that tells me he knows exactly what I’m thinking. I bite my lip and look away, otherwise I might do something I regret. No matter what, there’s still a s eparation between work and play. There’s still that distance between us, and I think... I think I ke ep that distance as a buffer. A way to ke ep him at arm’s length, at least for twelve hours a day. No matter how safe I feel in his arms, how drunk I get off his kiss, I can’t forget the past four years of my life. Today isn’t like any other day, though. The buffer between us is being eaten away inch by inch. I’m drawing closer to Emil, unable to resist his magnetism. The four of us head out together, and when we’re on the road—me in the passenger seat, the kids in the back—it feels almost like having a family. I shake my head and look out the window, trying to bury that thought somewhere de ep and inaccessible. This isn’t my family. It might feel like it, but I have no right to call them mine. This could end any minute. It could crash and burn, just like it did with Rich. Emil slides his hand over my thigh and gives me a questioning glance. The touch simultaneously settles my nerves and cranks them tighter. Desire flares at the touch, adding another layer to my already conflicted feelings. His fingers drift back and forth along the hem of my dress, his thumb just brushing my bare skin.
I want him so much it hurts. The distance I try to ke ep with him during the day feels like it could vanish at any moment. I’ll be in too de ep, then, just as trapped as I was with Rich. That gentle swe ep of his thumb over my skin is enough to wind me tight enough to snap. “Are we going to make cookies, Dani?” Talia asks, her legs kicking up and down. “The invitation says cupcakes.” Her eyes widen. “Cupcakes? Really? With frosting?” “And you can decorate them, too.” “I want to be a baker when I grow up,” she announces. “And I’ll make cookies every day. And cakes. And pies.” I chuckle, Talia’s raw excitement easing some jagged edge in me. My hand finds its way to Emil’s as I curl my fingers around his palm. He squeezes my hand, then pulls it away to make a turn. I miss the contact as soon as it’s gone. The chill of my bare skin missing his rattles me to the bone, and I realize I’m so, so close to letting all my walls crumble for him. When we get to the venue, Emil pulls up in front and I get the kids unloaded, taking Francis’s hand as Talia rushes forward to open the door. Emil pulls away to go park the car and I make my way inside, greeting Layla and Harriet and... Leif. The big blond man smiles at me, nodding, then bends over and scoops Talia up, throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She squeals, laughing, and then he does the same to Isla. The two girls—one blond head and one dark one—giggle as he parades them around the room. Emil arrives not long after, and the instructor starts setting everyone up at stations with bowls and ingredients. She’s a stocky lady who waves a wooden spoon around like a weapon. All the kids listen to her without question, and I know she has the same kind of talent as Harriet has with kids. I’ve never seen Emil look so relaxed—even when half a cup of flour ends up flicked over his shirt. He laughs, so devastatingly handsome as he brushes himself down that all I want to do is drag him to a dark corner, get on my knees, and show him what the sight of him does to me. His eyes meet mine for a moment. “Thank you,” he says softly. “For what?” “For this.” His gaze gentles, a smile still toying on his lips. My heart clenches so hard I wonder if it’s dangerous to be this happy. I bask in a warm glow until the cupcakes are in the oven and the kids are supervised in the play area. “I need to go wash my hands,” I say, then duck away from the adults to head down the hallway to the bathrooms. The mirror reveals that not only do I need to wash my hands, but I also need to wash batter off my cheek and a clump of my hair, too. Francis was very handsy and very enthusiastic. I grin at my reflection, shaking my head as I start to wash. I’m in the middle of drying myself off when the door opens. Emil ducks into the bathroom and locks the door. “What—” He kisses me. My arms instinctively wrap around his neck as his hands find the curve of my ass. He bunches my skirt, splaying his palms over my bare skin. I moan, all protests ripped from my mouth before I can form words.
“I can’t go another minute without tasting you, Dani.” “We can’t do this here.” It’s a weak protest, my fingers already reaching for the clasp of his pants. He grins, kneading my ass as his fingers graze the fabric of my panties. “We can, and we will, but you have to be quiet.” He nips my bottom lip. “No screaming.” “I don’t scream,” I pant, letting my head fall against the wall. He tugs my panties aside and groans at the wetness he finds beneath. There’s a moment of shuffling as I fumble with his pants, then he fumbles with a condom, but I’m in such a haze of lust that I don’t care about being smooth. All I know is mere seconds later, his hand is pulling my leg up over his hip and his delicious hardness is probing at my softest parts. Another wall crumbles inside me. Some defense I’d erected long ago, a fear of intimacy so intense it could ruin me forever. A decidedly unfeminine grunt es capes me when he thrusts inside me, but I don’t care. His hands sink into my thighs as he pulls my other leg up to wrap around his waist, pressing me up against the wall as he enters me again and again and again. Nearly fully clothed, I lose my mind at the feeling of him inside me. I’m not one for public bathroom sex. The thought of it always vaguely r epulsed me. But this... The feral need written in every line of his body, the groans es caping his lips, the steel-hardness of him filling me, the thought that he needed me so badly he came in here... I like it. A lot. I like being pinned against the wall and fucked to within an inch of my life. I like knowing that we shouldn’t be doing this, not in a million years. I like knowing that like me, Emil can’t help himself. That tight leash of control he has on himself is fraying as badly as mine is. My body grips his, tight and perfect. Grabbing my neck, he kisses me so hard I can barely breathe. And it’s the feeling of his body caging mine, his lips devouring me, his need for me cresting, that does me in. I bite down on his shoulder to stifle my scream and come apart in his arms. He grunts, nipping my earlobe, then his whole body grows tense. I feel him pulsing inside me, finding release as hard and fast as I did. Panting, with a thin sheen of sweat covering both our bodies, he lets my legs fall to the ground and shifts to clean and cover himself up again. I close my eyes, leaning against the wall. I feel his hand on my breast, shaping the curve of it then tweaking the peaked nipple, and I open my eyes. The pure ownership of his touch sends another wave of heat through me, and I let a smile tug at my lips. He smirks, satisfied, and glances at himself in the mirror. With a few quick adjustments of his clothing and hair, he looks as unruffled as he did before. Grinning at me, he runs his fingers along my jaw and presses a kiss to my lips. “Been wanting to do that since I saw you this morning.” “Same.” I let out a breath as he exits, poking his head out of the bathroom before slipping through, and I turn to the mirror. Then groan. I look like I just got screwed. Blushing, I tidy myself up and wait for my heart to slow down, then head back to the party in time to decorate some cupcakes. Emil winks at me as soon as I arrive, and Leif
narrows his eyes at the two of us. Ignoring the questioning look, I head to our workstation and paint an innocent smile on my face, heart still beating erratically, body still flushed and needy. If I ever thought it would be easy to walk away from this, I was wrong. Judging by the warmth that floods my chest every time Emil meets my eyes, I know once and for all I’m in too de ep to run away.