Chapter 3: Midnight rules

Emma didn’t sleep.

She lay in the dark guest room, ceiling fan whirring overhead, every nerve in her body still singing from Jake’s mouth on hers. The taste of him lingered salt and heat and something dangerously addictive. Her lips felt swollen, her skin too tight, her core aching with a need she’d ignored for years.

She kept replaying the moment, the way he’d groaned her name, the hard press of him against her, the raw hunger in his eyes just before Mia’s laugh had shattered everything.

This isn’t over.

His words echoed like a promise. Or a threat.

By two a.m., she gave up on sleep. She slipped out of bed, padded barefoot down the hall toward the kitchen for water. The house was silent, moonlight spilling silver across the hardwood floors.

She almost missed him.

Jake was on the back patio, sprawled in one of the lounge chairs by the pool, a bottle of whiskey dangling from his fingers. He wore only loose black boxer briefs, the rest of him bare and bathed in moonlight. His head was tipped back, eyes closed, throat working as he took a slow pull from the bottle.

Emma froze in the doorway.

He sensed her anyway. His eyes opened, finding her instantly in the dark. For a long moment, he just stared her in nothing but an oversized T-shirt that barely skimmed her thighs, him nearly naked and devastatingly beautiful.

“You should be sleeping,” he said, voice low and rough.

“So should you.”

He huffed a humorless laugh. “Can’t.”

She stepped outside, the warm night air kissing her skin. The pool lights glowed brightly beneath the surface, casting rippling patterns across his chest. She stopped a few feet away, arms wrapped around herself.

“Regrets already?” she asked, aiming for light. It came out shaky.

His gaze darkened. “Not even close.”

He set the bottle on the ground and stood, closing the distance in three silent strides. Up close, she could smell the whiskey on his breath, mixed with his skin. He didn’t touch her just stood there, close enough that she had to tip her head back to meet his eyes.

“I don’t do this,” he said quietly.

“Do what?”

“Want someone like this.” His jaw tightened. “Think about them. Lose sleep over them.”

Her heart stuttered. “Jake”

“I’m fucked up, Em. You know that. I don’t do girlfriends. I don’t do feelings. I’m good at walking away.” His voice dropped. “But with you, I don’t want to walk.”

She swallowed hard. “So don’t.”

The words hung between them, reckless and raw.

Something shifted in his expression hunger sharpening into something almost desperate. He reached for her, fingers curling around her wrist, tugging her closer until her chest brushed his. His skin was fever-hot.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against her temple. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll back off. For good.”

She should. She knew she should. He was a wildfire beautiful and destructive, and she’d watched him burn through too many hearts.

But her body had other ideas.

“I don’t want you to stop,” she whispered.

A low growl rumbled in his chest. Then his mouth was on hers, harder this time, no hesitation. He kissed her like he was starving teeth scraping her lower lip, tongue stroking deep, hands sliding under her shirt to grip bare skin.

She gasped into his mouth as his palms smoothed up her sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts. No bra. Nothing between his hands and her except thin cotton. He groaned when he realized, cupping her fully, thumbs circling her nipples until they peaked tight and aching.

“Fuck,” he breathed, breaking the kiss to trail his mouth down her neck. “You’re killing me.”

He backed her toward the lounge chair, lowering her onto the cushions without breaking contact. She went willingly, legs parting to let him settle between them. The hard length of him pressed against her core through the thin barriers of fabric, and she arched instinctively, seeking friction.

His hand slid down her thigh, hooking behind her knee to pull her leg higher around his hip. The new angle dragged him right against her clit, and she moaned, loud enough that he clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes blazing.

“Quiet,” he warned, voice ragged. “Mia’s upstairs.”

The risk of it, the thought of getting caught sent a fresh wave of heat through her. She nodded against his palm, and he removed it slowly, replacing it with his mouth in a searing kiss.

His hips rolled in a slow, deliberate grind that had her seeing stars. She clutched at his shoulders, nails digging in, urging him closer. He obliged, one hand slipping beneath her shirt again to pinch and roll her nipple while the other slid down between them.

He didn’t ask permission just pushed her panties aside and stroked two fingers through her slick folds.

She bit his shoulder to stifle her cry.

“So wet,” he rasped against her ear. “All day. Been like this since the beach?”

She couldn’t answer, could barely think as he circled her clit with devastating precision. He knew exactly what he was doing, pressure perfect, rhythm relentless. Her hips bucked against his hand, chasing release.

“Not yet,” he growled, pulling back just enough to deny her. “Want to be inside you when you come.”

He shoved his briefs down, freeing himself. Moonlight caught on the thick length of him, and Emma’s breath caught at the sight long, hard, tip already glistening. He stroked himself once, eyes locked on hers, then reached for her panties.

She lifted her hips to help him drag them off. Cool air hit her heated skin, and then he was back between her thighs, nudging her entrance.

“Condom,” she managed, brain barely functioning.

“Wallet. Inside.” He cursed under his breath. “Fuck.”

She almost laughed almost until he shifted lower, mouth closing over her breast through the shirt, sucking hard enough to make her back bow. His fingers returned between her legs, sliding inside her this time two thick digits stretching her perfectly.

She whimpered, clenching around him.

“God, you’re tight,” he muttered, pumping slowly. “Gonna feel so good around my cock.”

He curled his fingers, hitting that spot that made her vision spark, thumb working her clit in tandem. Pleasure coiled tight and fast, building unbearably.

“Jake please”

“Come for me, Em,” he whispered, biting down lightly on her nipple. “Let me feel it.”

She shattered.

The orgasm crashed through her in waves, thighs trembling, inner walls pulsing around his fingers. He worked her through it, drawing it out until she was boneless and gasping.

When she finally opened her eyes, he was watching her with something fierce and possessive in his gaze.

He withdrew his hand slowly, bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking them clean while she watched, stunned and newly aroused.

“Better than I imagined,” he said roughly.

He shifted like he was about to stand probably to go get that condom but headlights swept across the driveway, cutting through the dark.

They both froze.

A car door slammed. Voices Mia and Connor, laughing, stumbling toward the front door.

Jake swore vividly under his breath. He yanked his briefs up and grabbed her panties from the ground, shoving them into her hand just as the patio door slid open.

Mia’s silhouette appeared, backlit. “You guys decent out there?”

Emma yanked her shirt down, heart hammering. Jake threw a towel over his lap casually, like he hadn’t just had his hand between her legs.

“Yeah,” he called, voice remarkably steady. “Just cooling off.”

Mia snorted. “It’s two a.m. Freaks.” She disappeared inside, Connor trailing after her.

The door shut.

Silence rushed back in, thick with tension and unspent desire.

Jake looked at Emma, eyes dark and frustrated. “Tomorrow,” he said, low and intense. “No interruptions. I’m not stopping next time.”

He stood, adjusting himself with a wince, then leaned down to press one hard, brief kiss to her swollen lips.

“Get some sleep, Em,” he murmured. “You’re gonna need it.”

He walked inside without looking back.

Emma lay there on the lounge chair, panties clutched in her fist, body still humming from his touch, staring at the stars.

Tomorrow.

No interruptions.

She shivered despite the heat.

Because tomorrow, Jake Harlan was going to ruin her in the best possible way and she was going to let him.

And right as she finally drifted toward sleep, her phone buzzed on the patio table.

A text from an unknown number:

Don’t make plans tomorrow night. Wear something easy to take off. J

Her pulse skyrocketed all over again.

She didn’t reply.

She didn’t need to.