Bound by Her (6 page)

“Julian, wait,” she called, and I heard her hurried footsteps behind me.

I turned just as she caught up with me. Her small, delicate chest heaved with her every heavy breath and her fine brows were lowered in a deep frown. “Julian, what’s going on? Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving you alone, Emily. I won’t hurt you anymore.” My voice didn’t sound like my own. I had never heard myself sounding so weak.

“I don’t want you to leave me alone. Come back and we’ll talk about this. That wasn’t what you think.” She tugged at my shirt.

“I thought you needed space? Was it space you really needed, or was it Ryan?” I couldn’t control my powerful feeling of jealousy at that moment. The image of him touching her, his hands caked around hers, filling my head and clouding my judgement.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Julian. Ryan was talking to me because I had just walked in on you trying your luck with a probable whore. He was actually trying to convince me that you were worth a second chance.” It took no longer than half a second for me to believe what she was telling me. Her eyes couldn’t lie to me.

“Even so, he still touched you, didn’t he?”

“Oh, come on! He touched my hand. So what? I didn’t see you complaining when you held her hand in yours.”

She was right, and I knew it. I knew in my heart that neither Ryan nor Emily would ever do anything like that to me. Ryan would never look at my woman in that way, I realised that now that I had calmed down. Everything I had just felt when I walked into her kitchen, she must have felt ten times stronger when she walked into that club, and I hated myself for it. I was actually hitting on that stripper, and I probably would’ve fucked her too if Emily hadn’t have walked in when she did. But that was then, that was before I had read the uncertainty in her eyes as she saw me. Before I saw the hurt and the anger in those very eyes. I loved this woman. I would do anything to erase that look. That look that pulled at my heart with a stronger force than I had ever known of. I didn’t know what to do with myself, I wanted to leave and never turn back and give her the best shot at a happy life. But, at the same time, I wanted to crumple to the floor and beg for her forgiveness, as selfish as that decision would be. Could I walk away? Could I live knowing that she was out there, missing me, thinking about me, and maybe wondering if I was going to come back to her? She loved me. I should never have let her fall in love with me, but I had, and now it was too late. I couldn’t do it to her; I couldn’t leave her alone, without me. And I sure as hell couldn’t survive without her. She was my life now, I lived for her, I breathed for her. I needed her.

I cupped my hand around her cheek and felt the familiar pull that drew me into her. That completely captivated me.

“I love you, Emily, more than you’ll ever know,” I whispered. I felt an unfamiliar sting at the corner of my eye. Then I realised what it was. It was a tear. A single tear that was now rapidly rolling down my left cheek. Emily’s expression warmed as she wiped the tiny droplet away with a single finger.

“And I love you, Julian. And I’m not just going to let you walk away from me.”

I watched as perfect little pools of tears formed in her eyes before spilling over the edge and rolling down her cheek. And that was my decision made. She needed me, and so she would have me. I snaked my hand around to the back of her neck and pushed my fingers into the hair at her nape. I heard her sharp intake of breath at my touch. She wasn’t rejecting my touch anymore. She was more than likely craving it, just as I craved hers, I concluded as her breathing quickened considerably and her fingers twisted into my hair as she pulled me into a deep kiss. Every movement of her lips, every movement of her tongue was absolutely deliberate and sensuously controlled as she poured herself into me, touching, tasting every part of me.

“Let’s go inside,” she whispered against my lips. I felt a slow smile spread widely across my mouth in response to her invite.

She wanted me as much as I wanted her. That much I was sure of.

“You’re not seriously bringing that maniac in here?” Samantha argued as I followed Emily into her small but albeit welcoming kitchen. Emily ignored her best friend’s remark and approached the table where Samantha was wiping at Ryan’s lower lip with what appeared to be a dampened flannel.

“I’m not going to cause any more trouble,” I assured.

“It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?” Samantha snapped as she tore her eyes away from Ryan to look at me, her disgust clearly evident in her twisted expression.

“I’m sorry, Ryan. I got the wrong idea when I saw you both. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re damn right you got the wrong idea. Do you really think that little of me?”

I felt wounded as I looked into his pained eyes. I had hurt him, and not just in the physical sense. I should’ve known better, but my rage had taken away any chance I had of thinking clearly. “I’m sorry for doubting you, both of you.” My eyes flicked to Emily and were greeted by her sympathetic gaze.

“Don’t worry about it, what’s done is done,” she assured and I found myself simply staring back at her. I was completely in awe of her. How could she be so understanding? What could Ryan possibly have said to her in her kitchen before my arrival to convince her that I was worth a shot? “You okay, Ryan?” she continued, snapping my attention back to my friend.

“Yep, I’m good! Don’t worry about me; I’m used to his temper. Floored you this time though, didn’t I?” He grinned as he stood and punched a playful jab against my arm. “Told you I would one day.” I laughed in response and nudged his shoulder with my own, relieved that I seemed to be forgiven for my barbaric behaviour.

This was how we made up after a scuffle, a quick shove or a jab in the ribs, accompanied by a sly joke or a mock, and we were friends again. The best of friends. I loved this guy, although I would never admit that.

Emily made me a strong cup of coffee - far too strong, in fact - and I forced every mouthful down in a desperate attempt to combat the heavy feeling that was slowly spreading throughout my head. I was tempted to ask for something alcoholic, anything to bring me back into my pissed-up state to delay my impending hangover, but quickly thought better of it. After all, I was trying to make amends, trying to prove to Emily that I could be good enough to deserve her love, and so far tonight, I hadn’t done a very good job. Emily was certainly forgiving, I’d give her that. But I didn’t want her to have to forgive me for my wrong doings, time and time again. I didn’t want to give her reason to
have
to forgive me. I simply didn’t want to do wrong by her. In that moment, I made a promise to myself that I would be a better man. For her.

My jaw hurt unbearably with each mouthful of the tar-like coffee, but I tried my best to mask that very fact, eager not to give Ryan the satisfaction of knowing that his blow had actually injured me.

“Here.” Emily held her closed hand out towards me and when I held out my palm in response, she rolled two white capsules into it. “For your head.” She mimicked my earlier tone. “And your jaw.”

I chuckled quietly and was surprised by how much that simple action actually hurt. I tipped both capsules into my mouth followed with a mouthful of water and swallowed hard. “There, that’s how you do it.” I grinned. She rolled her big blue eyes at me and continued to clear away the cluttering of glasses and cups and used kitchen roll from the table.

As Emily reached for the last remaining empty glass, Samantha’s hand eagerly shot forward and grasped Emily’s wrist, holding it firmly in place as she appeared to study her hand. I instinctively wanted to reach out and free her captured hand but stopped myself and allowed my tensed fist to twitch in my lap instead. What was Samantha doing?

“What the hell is that?” she gasped as her eyes flicked up to Emily’s before meeting with mine.

“What?” I had no idea what she was talking about. My eyes scanned over Emily’s entire hand and forearm but I couldn’t notice anything out of place.

“The ring! Where has that come from?” Samantha almost shrieked.

“You mean you haven’t told her?” I asked, stunned. Why wouldn’t she have told her best friend that I had asked her to be my wife? And that she had agreed? Unless, of course, she wasn’t intending on sticking to the agreement. Or, she simply wasn’t too bothered by it. I felt my stomach sink as I pondered the possibilities. Was my proposal really not that important to her?

“Oh, I didn’t even think. What with everything that’s been going on today.” She spoke quickly and I watched her cheeks redden as she chanced a nervous glance at me.

“Told me what? Is this what I think it is?” Samantha’s voice had raised an octave as she repeatedly switched her questioning glare between me and Emily.

Emily’s mouth opened but no words came out.

“I asked Emily to marry me. And, she said yes. That is her engagement ring,” I explained matter-of-factly whilst keeping my eyes on Emily’s embarrassed expression.

“Oh my God! Why didn’t you tell me?” Samantha gushed as she gawped at Emily in an almost gormless manner. Samantha was an attractive woman, not my type, but attractive all the same, but she did have a habit of adopting a gormless expression every once in a while that rather amused me.

Well, that was that. Emily was dragged into deep conversation that revolved around rings, dresses and venues for the next hour while I flicked through the channels on the TV - finding nothing of particular interest. At least that clarified why Emily hadn’t told Samantha straight away. She wasn’t embarrassed about becoming my future wife, just by Samantha’s nagging questions and almost overbearing interference, judging by the way she was now sighing impatiently and absently twisting strands of her hair around her finger. Samantha was already describing Emily’s dress in great detail, and choosing her flowers and colour scheme. Seriously, we hadn’t even set a date yet, and I had kind of promised to be content with a long engagement, as much as I hadn’t wanted to. If I had it my way we would marry as soon as tomorrow, but Emily had seemed a little freaked when I had first mustered up the balls to mention her becoming Mrs Scott, and so my offer of a long engagement had seemed necessary. Emily would have all the time she wanted to choose a bloody colour scheme.

“I suppose I’d better leave you ladies to it then.” My wide smile no doubt revealed my amusement at Emily’s sudden panicked expression as Samantha started about guest lists. She ignored Samantha momentarily and walked to where I now stood in the living room doorway.

“Aren’t you staying?” she asked. Her brows crinkled ever so slightly and I realised she was clearly trying to hide her disappointment. I smiled at her expression as it warmed my insides. She didn’t want me to leave.

“Do you want me to stay?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.” Her cheeks blushed again and her eyes twitched as though she was struggling to keep them on my face. So now she was nervous to tell me she wanted me to stay. Was I really that unapproachable? “I mean, if you want to. Don’t feel like you have to if you...”

“Emily, sshhh! Of course I want to stay. Where else would I rather be?”

Her cheeks heated once more as she smiled widely at me, revealing her perfectly aligned teeth. Her eyes narrowed slightly and her smile twisted to one that never failed to make me hard. And she knew it. My chest expanded broadly as I inhaled deeply and pointed towards the stairs with my eyes.

“I’m off to bed, Sam. See you in the morning,” she called back to the front room where Samantha still sat.

“I thought we were talking weddings! It’s still early!”

“I’m shattered, Hun. We can talk weddings tomorrow,” she promised as she ushered me up the stairs, not bothering to wait for Samantha’s reply.

Emily squeezed my backside firmly as she hurried up behind me. I stopped in my tracks and grasped her tiny waist, lifting her and turning so that she was in front of me. “Show me to your bed, Miss Braxton,” I breathed close to her ear, causing her to shudder.

She stopped abruptly at the top of the stairs, sending me crashing into her back, and then rolled her hips against my groin, this ensuring that her perfectly shaped backside stroked firmly across my erection.

So, she wants to play dirty, does she?

I wrapped my arms firmly around her waist from behind and bundled her towards the door opposite me.

“Wrong room! Unless you were hoping for the bathroom?”

“Hmm, tempting, but no. Not for what I have planned for you!”

“Sounds exciting,” she teased, pausing in front of the bathroom door and making it look as if she was trying to decide which room she wanted to occupy.

“Show me to your bloody room or I’ll take you right here on the landing!”

And I probably would have, too, I wasn’t lying. I was aching for her. Craving the feeling of her warm skin beneath mine. Desperate for the feeling of her entirely surrounding me as I entered her. Ah, God!

She opened the door at the far end of the landing and I followed closely behind her as she entered, her sexy arse rubbing repeatedly against my prominent length as she walked. I kicked the door closed with my foot and almost tackled her onto the bed. She fell backwards onto the mattress and I landed on top of her, placing one of my knees firmly between her thighs as I hovered over her panting body.

Her desperate hands clutched at the base of my tie and she yanked on it hard, pulling me firmly towards her open mouth. That was so goddamned sexy. I kissed her greedily, my mouth no doubt almost smothering her before I realised its sheer urgency and calmed it as much as I could manage. Her slim fingers fumbled with the knot of my tie and I remained patient until she finally freed it and slipped the fabric from my neck. Then, she continued to open a single button of my shirt before seemingly growing restless and resorting to tearing it off me, literally. Now this was my kind of woman. I wanted her more than I had ever wanted anything or anyone. My heated skin almost burned under her urgent touch as her hands raked at my back, pulling me closer still into her kiss.

I buried my face in her neck as my mouth nipped and teased at her delicate skin, her breath hitching with every gentle graze of my teeth. I whipped her top off in one swift movement and caught her back before it landed on the mattress and desperately fumbled with her bra clasp. It was usually much easier than this, it generally took just one quick movement with a single thumb and finger, but I was struggling to concentrate. I wanted her naked, now. The clasp finally released and I tore her bra from her petite but perfectly proportioned chest before lowering my mouth to her breast and sucking gently. I noted her sharp intake of breath as my tongue circled her nipple and her hips thrust upwards to meet mine. She grasped at my backside to strengthen the contact. As much as I wanted to tease her, to build her anticipation more and more, I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to have her. I had to feel her warmth as it spread through me.