Stepbrother Billionaire(15)

“Did they start when your mom passed away?” he asks.

“Um. No,” I say, averting my eyes, “Not exactly.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” Emerson insists.

“No. I do want to. I want you to know what today was about, I just...” I sigh, trying to find the right words. “Hardly anyone knows. And this whole us-getting-along thing is pretty new, you know? I just need to know...that I can trust you.”

I swallow a gasp as Emerson lays a hand on my cheek, his eyes burning intently into mine. “You can trust me,” he says, “I promise you that much, Abby. How can I prove it to you?”

“Trade me a secret for a secret?” I laugh, only half joking.

“OK,” he replies, his gaze unwavering, “Deal.”

“Wait, seriously?” I ask, sitting up a little straighter.

“Seriously,” he says, letting his fingertips trail over my shoulder, down my arm. “I want you to know I’m for real. I’ll tell you a secret if you’ll let me in on one of yours.”

I try my best to take deep breaths, suddenly afraid of knowing Emerson’s secrets, being bound to share mine as well. But I know I have to be bold, now. I’ve spent too much time living in shame and fear.

“OK,” I whisper, inching closer toward him, “Tell me a secret, Emerson. Make it a good one, too.”

“All right,” he says, his voice hoarse and low, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you for two weeks straight. Since the night of the party. I got to see a side of you that night I’d never seen before. In the closet, during that stupid game...you were so direct. So ready. And so f*cking sexy. If the cops hadn’t shown up, I don’t know what would have happened. But I damn well know what I wanted to happen.”

“What?” I breathe, so close to him that I can feel his warm breath against my skin. “What did you want to happen?”

His eyes glint with something that looks like longing. Lust. Can this seriously be happening right now? Is someone about to leap out from behind a houseplant and tell me I’ve been Punk’d or what?

“It would probably be better for me to show you than tell you,” he growls. “Is that OK?”

Unable to formulate a single word, I simply nod my assent. With a fiery intensity I’ve never seen in him before, Emerson catches my face in his broad hands. I can feel my heart barreling against my ribcage as he takes one long, steady look at me. Before I can take another breath, he’s brought his lips to mine in a searing, earnest kiss. The entire world shrinks down to our two bodies as I feel myself subsumed by the sensation. His lips are unbelievably soft, his mouth so strong as it works against mine. I open myself to him, closing my eyes in rapturous bliss as his tongue glances against my own. The taste of him electrifies my senses. In this moment, there is nothing but him.

I gasp softly as Emerson pulls me onto his lap. I straddle him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders as his tongue probes deeper and deeper. Pressing myself flush against him, I let a low groan escape from between my lips. I can feel through his signature blue jeans that he’s hard for me. The full, stiffening length of him presses against my sex, exactly where I’ve been dreaming of feeling him for the better part of four years.

My body has never been this alive with want. Not with anybody. Moving with him feels intuitive in a way it never has with any other guy. I grind my hips slowly, feeling him grow even harder beneath me. His hands slide down over my ass, running along the firm rise in my jeans. He pulls me tighter, letting me feel just how much he wants me. In a moment of daring, I close my teeth around his bottom lip, tugging gently. He looks up at me in wonder.

“Where the hell did you come from, Abby?” he breathes.

“I’ve been here all along,” I smile, running my hands through his chestnut hair. “You just haven’t noticed until now.”

“Please,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around the small of my back, “You honestly think I never noticed you before?”

“Well...you never said a word to me before our parents met,” I point out, bringing my lips to his scruffy throat and kissing deeply.

“Why would I? You were way out of my league,” he replies, running his down my sides. “I didn’t want to risk making an ass of myself.”

I start laughing so hard that I nearly topple off of him. “Now that is hilarious,” I crow, steadying myself. “Me? Out of your league?”

“Of course,” he says, “Can you seriously not see that?”

“All I can see right now is you, Mr. Drop Dead Gorgeous Lacrosse Star,” I smile, feeling emboldened by his words. “And since we’re being honest, here...I’ve been carrying quite the torch for you these past four years. I’ve sort of been crushing on you from afar since...oh...the minute I saw you in school for the first time.”

“No shit?” he grins.

“No shit,” I assure him.

“How messed up is it that we only figured this out because our parents started boning?” he laughs.

“Ughh,” I groan, rolling off of him onto the couch, “Please don’t talk about our parents having sex right now. Or ever, for that matter.”

“Fine by me,” he says, shifting his body my way. Without another word, he lays me out on the sofa, lowering his muscled body onto mine. He runs his index finger along my jaw, tipping my chin up toward his face. “I don’t want to talk right now anyway.”