Page 55 of Runaway Bride's Guide to Love

I look down into his brown eyes that are staring right back at me. There isn’t a word out of his mouth he doesn’t mean. This is for me just as much as it’s for him. He wants me to have this. He wants me to take it.

And if that doesn’t send a shot of confidence through you, I don’t know what would.

I begin to ride him faster, letting my hips bounce as I hold on for dear life. I watch him bite down on his lip as he grabs each of my tits, squeezing them as I use his dick as my own personal joyride. When he pinches one of my nipples, I arch back, my hands gripping onto his thighs, loving the conflicting sensations I’m feeling.

This new angle is stirring something inside me—something I wanted but wasn’t sure could happen twice in a night. I heard about it. People said it was true. I had called bull until right now.

Because holy moly…another one is coming.

And it’s coming hard.

“Emmett…”

His name is a plea that he understands immediately.

He sits up and holds me to him, as close as two people can be. Our hips are still meeting, only now the pace is frantic. We’re both chasing ends that we desperately want, yet don’t want at all.

At least that’s me. I can only hope Emmett feels the same way.

Emmett’s mouth latches on to the spot on my neck that I knew was the ending to a live wire. In a matter of seconds I’m exploding onto him, my entire body quivering from the release. Emmett follows right behind me with a guttural groan, squeezing me to him as we both finish.

Neither of us say anything for a few moments. The only sound in my bedroom is our breathing and the rain hitting the window.

Emmett slowly lifts me off him, lying me back on my bedbefore he goes to take off the condom. My eyes are growing heavy when I feel a warm towel at my center.

Oh! Another new thing.

“Sweet dreams, Tiger,” Emmett says, kissing my forehead.

I want to ask him to stay. I want to ask him to lie down with me. I know he says he doesn’t, but maybe he will?

Except I don’t. I can’t. Because Emmett Collins fucked me into an orgasm coma.

And I’m not mad about it at all.

16

emmett

I meant to leave.

Because I don’t stay. I don’t wake up with a person. I sure as hell don’t cuddle.

But I couldn’t make myself go.

As I watched Stella sleep, I kept telling myself just a few more minutes. I had convinced myself that I was just making sure that she was okay. Tonight might have been more of a roller coaster of emotions than the night we met.

Then I laid down. Then I slowly start running my fingers lazily along her arm. Then she rolled into me. Her head found my shoulder, and I was a goner.

I don’t remember the last time, if ever, I woke up with someone in my arms. The closest I’ve come is when Winnie has found her way onto my bed. And that usually just means she wants something.

Here’s the problem: It’s now the morning. The sun is shining, and a new day is here. And I still don’t want to leave. Hell, if I had my way, we’d stay in this bed all day and continue what we started last night. There are many—and I mean many—things I still want to do with Stella Banks, but I have this gnawing feeling that if I leave they’re never going to happen. That somehow thebubble will burst. Maybe she’ll realize last night was just a one-time thing fueled by emotion. Or I’ll come to my senses and remember she’s too young and her brother might kill me.

Let’s be real. I’m not coming to my senses. The longer I lay here, the more my logical thoughts go out the window. Stella Banks is now in my blood. And I don’t know if she’s ever going to leave.

I take in a deep breath when I hear the ping of my cell phone somewhere in the room. The sound is coming in rapid fire so I get up, careful not to wake Stella as I slip my boxer briefs on and find my phone in the pocket of my jeans.

Simon: You alive?

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