Chapter 5: Forbidden Desire

He heard the soft pad of bare foot against the hardwood, and the quiet exhale of someone wandering in the dark at the late hour of the night when people are either sleeping or doing something else.

Jacob raised his head from the glass of water he had been nursing, his pulse was steady until she stepped into the kitchen.

Emily.

His daughter-in-law.

Her hair was messy in a way that he had learned, meant that she had been tossing under the sheets for hours. Her shirt was thin, and oversized, clearly stolen from his son’s drawer which clung to her hips and was dipped low enough to tease the soft valley between her breasts.

She paused when she saw him.

Then she smiled. Soft. Coy. A little too relieved.

“You’re awake too,” she whispered.

“I could not sleep,” Jacob murmured.

It was not a lie.

Not when she had been in the guest room down the hall, breathing, moving, and wearing his son’s name but also holding a piece of Jacob’s sanity hostage.

Emily moved closer, and the hem of her sleeping shirt brushed against the top of her thighs, revealing a silhouette he tried not to stare at.

“Do you mind if I join you?” she asked.

He gestured her to sit on the stool but she didn’t, instead, she leaned her hips against the counter, her arms folded beneath her chest, and pushing up her breasts in a way that made his throat tightened.

“Long day?” Jacob asked, his voice steady.

“Mm.” She shrugged. “Long week. Long… everything.”

She looked at him, and when she did, something in her eyes shifted.

“You always look so calm,” she said softly. “Like nothing shakes you.”

“That's not true,” he replied.

Her gaze lingered on his mouth.

Dangerous and hungry.

“What shakes you, Jacob?” she whispered.

He did not answer.

Not because he did not have one, but because she was the answer.

Emily exhaled and stepped closer.

Close enough that he could smell her… her warm cotton, her faint lotion, and female beneath it all.

“You don’t have to pretend to me,” she murmured. “I see the way you look at me sometimes.”

Jacob’s jaw tightened. “Emily—”

She cut him off with a soft laugh. “You are not fooling anyone. Least of all me.”

Her fingers brushed against his hand.

Not by accident – not even remotely.

He did not pull away and that was his first mistake.

Or maybe his first honest decision.

Emily leaned in until her lips were nearly touching his ear. “If this is wrong… then tell me to stop.”

He should have.

But her breath was warm, her voice was low, and months… years… of want buried inside of him was cracked open.

“I can’t,” he whispered, hating how true the word was.

“Then don’t.” Her eyes softened.

She moved between his knees naturally as if she had been doing it for years.

Their bodies in sync with a click of inevitability, and her warmth was pressing into every inch of him.

Her hands cupped his jaw, and her thumbs were grazing through the rough line of stubble.

“You make me feel…” She swallowed. “Seen.”

“Emily—”

“And wanted,” she finished in a whisper thick with need.

He exhaled sharply. He had to stop this, he had to be the man he had always prided himself to be, but then her lips brushed against his jaw which made him hesitant, trembling,--and because of that, something broke inside of him.

When he grabbed her waist, her breath was caught and her hands were fisted in his shirt.

And then, they kissed.

Not a timid kiss, not a question.

But, a confession.

Her mouth was soft but desperate, and hungry in a way that only a woman who is starved for affection would be. Jacob groaned which was deep, and rough, as Emily pressed her body closer, like she had been shaped for him alone.

His hands trailed down her back, and his fingertips were brushing the curve of her hips. Her sleeping shirt went higher until his palms met with bare skin—warm, smooth, and intoxicatingly soft.

She shivered.

“God…” she whispered against his mouth. “I have always wanted this, I have always wanted you.”

Jacob’s determination broke completely.

His hands held onto her hips, pulled her up, and settled her on the counter. Emily gasped softly… partly surprised, partly in desire, and her legs were wrapped around him without hesitation.

“You don’t know what you are asking for,” he murmured, his voice thick, and dark.

“I am asking,” she whispered, pulling him closer, and her thighs were tightened around his waist. “Is that not enough?”

It is too much. It is everything.

He kissed her again… hard. The kind of kiss that left them breathless, and that said everything they have been wanting to say out loud.

Her lips were sweet and warm, and her tongue was sliding against his in a slow, intoxicating rhythm that made his pulse pound.

Emily’s hands roamed on his chest, and lowering his shirt to trace the hard lines of muscle. He felt her nails pull lightly across his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Confess to me that you want me,” she whispered.

He pressed his forehead against hers, their breathing ragged. “You have no idea how much.”

Her smile was shaky, and wrecked with relief.

“Then show me.”

Jacob’s hands roamed up on her thighs. And when he reached the edge of her sleeping shirt, he paused.

Her eyes searching his.

Fearless and wanting.

He raised the shirt slowly, and reverently, revealing her warm skin inch by inch until she raised her arms and let him pull it over her head.

She is breathtaking.

Her curves is soft and inviting, her nipples is tightened under the kitchen air, and her body is flushed with anticipation.

Emily watched his reaction carefully— shy, and almost vulnerable but the hunger in her eyes surpassed all of it.

“You are beautiful,” he said, with rough voice.

“And you are overdressed,” she whispered, tugging the hem of his shirt with a teasing smile.

He pulled it off, and her hands were exploring him immediately. His chest, shoulders, and arms, touching him like she had imagined it for too long.

Her fingers drifted lower, over his abdomen, and Jacob groaned as she pressed her hips forward, gently grinding against him.

“Emily…” he warned, with his voice strained.

She kissed his throat. “I want you to lose control for once.”

And he did.

With one firm movement, he pulled her closer, and his mouth was tracing a slow, heated path along her neck. She arched into him, and a breathless moan escape from her lips.

Then, his hands traveled over her hips, down her thighs, and back up again until she was trembling beneath him.

“Please,” she breathed. “I need you.”

Jacob pulled her up from the counter, her legs were wrapped around him as he carried her toward the dark hallway.

“Guest room?” she whispered, kissing the side of his jaw.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Her lips curved against his skin. “I want to feel you in a bed that isn’t mine. Or his.”

The confession hit him like fire.

He gripped her tighter.

As they reached the doorway, Emily cupped his face and made him meet her eyes.

“No more pretending,” she whispered.

“Tonight, I’m yours.”

And Jacob, who is a father-in-law, a husband, and a man who had tried for so long to be good—finally let his guard down and wanting her back.

He gently placed her on the bed.

And the door shut behind them with a soft, and deliberate click.