Page 33 of Emmy's Ride

My chest rose and fell with controlled breaths. “You think I give a damn about fair? Fair is you staying here where I can keep you safe. Fair is you not walking out of my life again when we both know you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“The hell it isn’t,” I muttered.

A heavy silence settled between us, filled with all the things neither of us were willing to say out loud.

Then she shook her head, her eyes clouded with something I couldn’t quite place. “I have to go, Austin.”

I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to grab her, to make her stay. But I couldn’t force her. Didn’t mean I was letting her go. My voice was low when I finally spoke, steady despite the fire turmoil inside me. “Then you’re not going alone.”

She was doing it again. I could see it in her eyes, hear it in the resolve behind her words. She was already checking out.

But this time? This time, I wasn’t going to let her go so easily.

She thought she could leave. Thought she could pack up and walk out of my life again like she hadn’t just spent the night beneath me, wrapped around me.

No.

She needed to remember exactly what she was giving up.

My eyes darkened as I took a slow step toward her. She stood her ground, but I didn’t miss the way her breath hitched, the way her hands balled into fists at her sides like she was trying to steady herself.

“You’re making a mistake, Em,” I murmured.

She lifted her chin. “I have to go.”

“Do you? Because I don’t think you really want to.”

Her lips parted like she was about to argue, but I didn’t give her the chance.

I closed the distance between us in an instant, my hand sliding into her hair as I crushed my lips against hers.

Emmy made a soft sound of protest—a weak, halfhearted thing that disappeared the second my tongue swept into her mouth, taking, reminding.

I kissed her like I could etch myself into her soul so deeply that even if she walked away, she’d never be able to forget.

And she wasn’t stopping me.

No, she was sinking into me, her fingers gripping my neck, pulling me closer, kissing me back with just as much hunger, just as much desperation.

“Want me to stop, Em?” I groaned into her mouth, my free hand sliding down the curve of her waist before gripping the back of her thigh, lifting her against me. My hardened cock pressed against her pussy.

“More,” she gasped, and I took advantage, deepening the kiss, devouring her.

I carried her to the bed, dropping her onto the mattress without breaking contact. My body covered hers, pressing her into the sheets, my weight solid and sure above her.

Her hands went to my shoulders, her nails biting into my skin, and for a moment, I thought she might push me away. But she didn’t.

She moaned into my mouth, arching into me like she needed more. Like she needed me.

I pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, my breath ragged. “Tell me to stop.”

Her lips were swollen, her eyes glassy. She didn’t say a damn word. But she pulled me closer.

That was all the permission I needed.

I stripped her bare, my hands rough and reverent all at once as I mapped every inch of her skin. I didn’t rush. Didn’t let her slip away into her own head and overthink.

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