Never Wake (17 page)

“You have to watch what I’m doing, Emma.”

Emma shivered. Troy’s arousal was almost tangible. Emma took a deep shuddering breath and forced her drooping eyelids open. When she looked at Troy she noticed for the first time how incredibly long Troy’s lashes were.

“Yes?” Troy asked and Emma nodded. “Good. Let me school you on this, then. First, you have to make sure the fries are real hot and just a little bit salty. You understand?”

Emma’s “uh-huh” earned her a mesmerizing smile.

“You only want them slightly crispy. So you have to wait until they’re just a little bit past done.” She paused and tilted her head.

Emma said “yes,” again as if she had been asked a question.

“And then you want to take the top of your marionberry shake…and Emma?”

“Hmm?”

“It has to be marionberry.” She smiled, and Emma swallowed. “Are you paying attention? ’Cause this part is important.”

Emma nodded again. Troy dipped the French fry halfway into her shake and pulled it out. Then, closing her eyes, she bit into it like it was manna from the gods. “And then, you enjoy,” she intoned, her eyes closed.

Emma’s face heated. This had gone past playfulness and it scared her.

“Your turn,” Troy said. Her teasing smile was back.

Emma was already shaking her head. “No. I think—” She stopped speaking because Troy had already dipped the half-eaten fry into her shake and was offering it to her. As if pulled on a string, Emma leaned forward and took the rest of the fry from Troy’s fingers. Troy’s thumb lingered on Emma’s lips and Emma chewed with eyes closed as she used the moment to regain her senses. “Mmm, Troy?”

“Hmm?” Troy’s voice sounded husky and more than a little aroused.

“This is really disgusting,” Emma said as the oddities of flavors slapped her senses right back out of the gutter. Her eyes flew open in time to see that Troy was leaning in to kiss her.

“Then something must be wrong with the shake. Here, let me try,” she said and began to nuzzle Emma’s lips.

Emma felt her own breath hit Troy’s upper lip and bounce back to her.
Come on, Emma. You haven’t forgotten how to do this. Oh, yes, I most assuredly have.

Troy deepened the kiss and left her floundering to catch up. Emma felt like she needed to press her feet into the linoleum in order to keep from sliding out of the booth. Her hand went up, settled on Troy’s shoulder, and then moved lower over Troy’s heart. And then she felt it: wave after wave of wanting that took her breath away. The depth of the emotions and the strength of her own need made Emma’s stomach twist. A sharp, intense pain started between her eyes and made her feel even more nauseous.
Not right now. Please, not right now.

“Emma, what’s wrong?” She felt Troy’s hands on her upper arms.

She turned roughly away from Troy. “I have to stop,” she said as she stood up and stumbled in the direction of the bathroom.

In the bathroom, Emma splashed water on her face. Troy had tried to hide her embarrassment as Emma had run from her. She had never felt this much emotion coming from one person before. She couldn’t remember ever getting so wound up that it made her sick but she should have seen it coming. She should have left the table sooner so that Troy wouldn’t be out there right now struggling to deal with confusion, shame, and embarrassment.

A sob coursed through Emma’s body as she sensed Troy getting her emotions under control. Emma could sense her buttoning them up and hiding them behind a wall. By the time Emma put her hand up to push through the door, there was almost no evidence of the sexual tension they had shared.

“Sorry,” she said when she reached Troy. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Troy. The platters of food had already been removed from the table and Troy stood up.

“Rain’s stopped. We should get back,” she said and offered Emma her arm, much as she would have with an old woman she was helping cross the street. The walk home was quiet. Emma could feel Troy’s embarrassment grow into anger and by the time she swiped her access key to open the lobby door and they were riding the elevator up to the condo, it felt as if they were two strangers who couldn’t wait to get out of each other’s personal space.

*

Her head hurt and the room felt funny, like someone had forgotten to turn off the AC before they cranked up the heater. And what was that sound? The wind chimes, of course. Troy frowned. Patricia wouldn’t have left the window open at night, though. How could she be hearing the wind chimes? The sound was rhythmic and slow. No, it wasn’t wind chimes; it was water, dripping water. Spider webs brushed against her arms and then over her face. She opened her eyes, but a dark cloud blinded her, and something cold and soft lapped at her ear lobe.

She tried to call out and struggle, but her arms felt weighed down; something was holding her in place. Her heart felt like it was going to pound out of its cage, and then something breathed life into her. She struggled against it at first. She had forgotten something, left it behind. But the lips—soft, moist, and needful—opened on hers, welcomed her hunger, took what she had to give. So she gave in, allowed herself the pleasure, just for a moment. Patricia never let her control things like this, and it felt wonderful. Something tugged at her memory, tugged at her conscience, but she pushed it away. She didn’t want to focus. Not yet.

For a few moments she was in heaven. She pulled the slight body atop hers closer. Moving her hips against her, feeling the arousal build quicker than it ever had. She thought she heard her moan.

She opened her eyes. Blue eyes, not brown, stared down at her. She watched them change from aroused to something else. Hurt? Embarrassment? Troy drew her arms away from Emma as if a button had been pushed to release a vise.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed and stopped. “Oh, I am so…” Troy couldn’t find the right words.

Emma scrambled to her feet, not looking at Troy. She didn’t say anything, just shook her head. Her fingers went to her mouth as if to wipe it.

Troy covered her embarrassment with anger, “What the hell were you doing out here anyway?”

Emma could have responded with, “This is my place and you’re sleeping on my couch,” but instead she said, “You were calling out in your sleep.”

Troy’s face softened. “I’m sorry if I woke you up. I have bad dreams sometimes. I don’t make a habit of grabbing people.” She stopped speaking and looked down at Emma’s knee. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, and you didn’t wake me. I was already up. I need to explain what happened in the restaurant.”

“There’s nothing to explain. It’s late. We both should get some sleep.”

“I can’t imagine you’ll be going back to sleep anytime soon, not with the way you were screaming. Who’s Patricia?”

Troy looked startled. “I was calling for Patricia?”

“Yeah, you were crying out for her when I walked in.”

Troy looked pensive. “I think you should go to your room. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

“Why are you saying this when it’s not what you want?”

“Because I need time to think, okay?”

“No, you don’t.” Emma touched her shoulder.
Who the hell do I think I am? I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never known how to do this.

Troy reared back. “I don’t need a charity fuck if that’s what you’re trying to do.”

Emma paused before replying. “No, what I’m trying to do is get myself laid by the one person capable of helping me out these days.”

“Emma, I—” Troy closed her eyes, ashamed at how aroused she was.

“I need to tell you something first. Remember, you said that you wouldn’t lie to me?” Troy didn’t answer so Emma rushed on. “It wouldn’t matter if you did. I’d probably know if you were lying.”

“What are you talking about? Are you saying I lied about something?”

“No, that’s not what I mean. God, I hate this. Hear me out, okay? I’m trying to tell you that I sense things. I always have.”

“If you could read my mind, you’d know that I want you to leave me alone.”

“I can’t read your mind. And I hear you telling me to go away, but your body doesn’t lie, and I can feel that you want me to stay.”

“Not you,” Troy said, and regretted the words the moment they were past her lips.

“Now you are lying. Is it just to me, or are you lying to yourself, too?”

“Go to bed, Emma.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I might be the one that needs a charity fuck? That I might want to be close to someone?”

“Do you always get sick after kissing the person you want to get close to?”

Emma closed her eyes and spoke softly. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It gets overwhelming. I wasn’t sick because you kissed me. I did something today that I haven’t done in a long time and, for the most part, I wasn’t afraid. It was exhilarating, and I felt powerful and sexual and desirable. It was a lot to deal with emotionally. So I got sick. It happened on my first…”

“Stop. I’m not angry at you. It was probably good that it happened. I can’t just have sex with you.” Troy’s voice was cold and tight and her stomach was quailing. She had been right; Emma was a fucking nut case. She should get her shit, hop on Dite, and ride home. Even as she thought this, her crotch tightened and desire swept through her body.

Emma inhaled. Troy turned to look at her. That was it. The moments when Emma would look at her oddly, would somehow know what she was thinking. It was because, if she were to be believed, she had known exactly what Troy was feeling. Dread flooded through her body. She clinched her fists and turned toward Emma.

“You bitch,” she said, but there was a look of calm surprise on her face. “This whole time you’ve been eavesdropping on me?” Troy lurched up from the couch and almost slipped on the quilt that had fallen to the floor during her nightmare. Emma reached out to steady her but she pushed her hand away.

“Listen to me, please. I don’t eavesdrop; it’s more like you broadcast.”

“Oh, so this is my fault?”

“No. I shouldn’t have said…I don’t mean just you. It’s like this with everyone. This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you wouldn’t listen. I don’t pick brains. I just sense feelings, not even all feelings. Just the strong ones. Those are hardest for people to control. Most of the time it’s no secret anyway. Anyone would know it by body language or the look on their face. I can also sense it. Sometimes I don’t even know if they’re my feelings or someone else’s.” Emma stopped speaking, because Troy had stepped around her as if she were a cactus and was walking toward her bike.

“Don’t leave like this. It’s dark, not to mention it sounds like it’s pouring out there. I’ll go to my room, okay?” Troy felt Emma’s hand on her bare shoulder and she reacted without thinking. She grabbed Emma’s wrist and pulled her toward her. She hadn’t meant the kiss to be a punishment, but her lips stung from the violence of the kiss.

Emma’s body had grown tense and Troy forced herself to loosen her embrace. Emma was right. She didn’t want her to leave her alone. She had been thinking about this all day. Her anger was because Emma had known all along.

Troy tore her mouth away and they leaned against each other, breathing hard.

“Couch.”

“Too narrow.” She wanted to suggest they go to her room and would have, in her dreams. But that was too forward and she was still afraid that Troy would walk out the door.

The back of her knees hit the frame of the window seat. She hadn’t felt herself being moved backward. Her hands went to the muscles in Troy’s back and dug in, as if it were possible to be any closer. Troy kissed her again as they fell onto the narrow window seat. Emma was amazed at how well they fit. Troy opened her legs, stretching Emma’s wide and then even wider. Without breaking contact with her lips, Troy raised herself up on her elbows and arched her body into Emma’s center.

Emma pressed her hand into Troy’s lower back and then, without hesitation, Emma allowed her hands to cover Troy’s ass and squeeze. Troy’s chest heaved and Emma squeezed harder, pulling Troy to her with all of her strength.

Troy began to rock into Emma’s body, each movement becoming stronger than the last, until the seam of Emma’s jeans was pressing hard into Emma’s crotch. Emma arched her body to meet Troy, and one of them moaned, deep, low, and guttural. Emma’s hands went to Troy’s upper arm. Her fingers tingled where she felt the outline of Troy’s tattoo.

Just when she thought she wouldn’t be able to tolerate any more friction, Troy shifted, arching her body, increasing the pressure until Emma could barely move. The orgasm shot up the center of Emma’s body and sent ripping shock waves from her toes and up her back. Troy’s steady rhythmic grinding began to slow down. Her heart was pounding so hard that Emma couldn’t tell where her heart began and Troy’s ended. Troy’s body quieted and she whimpered in her ear.

Emma sank her fingers into Troy’s curls and held her close. Troy buried her face in Emma’s neck. Troy sucked in and Emma could feel every rib in her body as the orgasm slammed through her leaving them both breathless.

*

“We should move into the bedroom.” Troy’s voice was hoarse and distant.

The perspiration on Emma’s body cooled at the words. Troy’s arousal, now appeased, had been replaced by another strong emotion.
Sadness. She’s sad about what we did.