Chapter 4: No turning back

Emma spent the entire day on edge.

Every glance across the breakfast table, every casual brush of Jake’s arm as he reached for the orange juice, felt loaded with last night’s promise. He acted normal teasing Mia about her bedhead, arguing with Connor over fantasy football but his eyes kept finding Emma’s, dark and deliberate, like he was counting down the hours.

Mia announced mid-afternoon that she and Connor were heading into town for dinner and a late movie. “Don’t wait up,” she sang, tossing her bag over her shoulder. The front door clicked shut behind them at six-thirty sharp.

The house fell into sudden, electric silence.

Emma was in the kitchen rinsing a glass when she heard his footsteps behind her slow, unhurried. She didn’t turn around.

“Finally,” Jake said, voice low and rough.

He didn’t touch her right away. Just stood close enough that she could feel the heat coming off him, smell the faint trace of his cologne mixed with lake water from an earlier swim. Her pulse thrummed in her throat.

She set the glass in the drying rack with deliberate care. “Finally what?”

His laugh was soft, dangerous. Then his hands were on her hips, spinning her to face him and crowding her back against the counter. He braced his palms on either side of her, caging her in.

“Finally alone,” he murmured, eyes dropping to her mouth. “Been hard all fucking day thinking about you.”

Heat flooded her cheeks and lower at the blunt admission. She’d spent the day in a similar state, damp panties, aching nipples, every innocent touch from him sending sparks straight between her legs.

He leaned in, lips brushing the corner of her mouth. “You follow instructions well.”

Her breath hitched. She’d worn exactly what his text demanded a soft sundress, pale blue and sleeveless, with tiny buttons all the way down the front. No bra. No panties. Just the dress and sandals.

His hands slid down her sides, gathering the fabric slowly until cool air kissed her thighs. “Good girl,” he whispered, and the praise went straight to her core.

He kissed her then slow at first, coaxing her lips apart, tongue sliding against hers in a rhythm that promised more. She melted into him, hands fisting his T-shirt, pulling him closer. He tasted like mint and restraint finally snapping.

One of his hands slipped under the hem of her dress, tracing the bare skin of her inner thigh. Higher. Higher. Until his fingers brushed her slick folds and he groaned into her mouth.

“Jesus, Em. Already soaked.”

She whimpered as he parted her, stroking lightly, teasing her clit with feather-soft circles that made her hips jerk.

“Been like this all day?” he asked again, echoing his question from the night before.

“Yes,” she admitted on a gasp. “Couldn’t stop thinking about your hands. Your mouth.”

His eyes flared. He dropped to his knees right there on the kitchen floor, shoving her dress up to her waist. The sudden exposure made her clutch the counter for balance.

“Hold this,” he ordered, guiding her hands to the bunched fabric.

Then his mouth was on her.

No hesitation, no gentle buildup just hot, wet suction on her clit that had her crying out. He licked her like he was starving, tongue flat and broad one moment, flicking sharp and fast the next. Two fingers pushed inside her without warning, curling deep, pumping in time with his mouth.

Pleasure slammed through her, sharp and overwhelming. Her thighs trembled, her knees nearly buckled. He pinned one leg over his shoulder, opening her wider, growling against her when she flooded his tongue.

“Jake oh god”

He didn’t let up. Sucked harder, fingers thrusting faster, until the orgasm hit her like a freight train. She came with a broken moan, back arching, hips grinding shamelessly against his face. He worked her through every pulse, drawing it out until she was shaking and oversensitive.

Only then did he pull back, lips shiny with her, eyes wild.

He stood slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Bedroom,” he said, voice gravel-rough. “Now.”

She nodded, legs unsteady. He didn’t wait, scooped her up like she weighed nothing and carried her upstairs, kicking his bedroom door shut behind them.

Moonlight filtered through half-closed blinds, striping the king bed in silver. He set her down gently, but there was nothing gentle in the way he looked at her.

“Buttons,” he said.

Her fingers shook as she undid them one by one. The dress parted, slipped off her shoulders, pooled at her feet. She stood naked except for the sandals.

Jake exhaled sharply, raking his gaze over her like he was memorizing every curve. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

He stripped fast T-shirt yanked over his head, shorts and briefs shoved down in one motion. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, tip already wet. Emma’s mouth watered.

He crawled onto the bed, pushing her back into the pillows. “Tell me what you want,” he said against her throat, nipping lightly. “Anything. Tonight’s yours.”

She hesitated only a second. “You. Inside me. Now.”

He reached for the nightstand, grabbing a condom and rolling it on with practiced efficiency. Then he settled between her thighs, nudging her entrance.

“Look at me,” he said.

She did.

He pushed in slowly, relentless, stretching her inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt. They both groaned at the feel of it hot, tight, perfect.

“Fuck,” he breathed, forehead pressed to hers. “So good. So fucking good.”

He started to move long, deep strokes that dragged over every sensitive spot inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass, urging him faster.

He obliged, hips snapping harder, the bed creaking under them. One hand slid between their bodies, thumb finding her clit again, rubbing in tight circles.

“Again,” he demanded. “Come on my cock this time.”

The dirty words sent her spiraling. Pleasure coiled tighter, faster, until she shattered a second time harder than the first, clenching around him in waves that pulled a deep sound from his throat.

He followed seconds later, thrusting deep and staying there, pulsing inside her as he came with her name on his lips.

They stayed locked together, breathing hard, sweat-slick skin cooling slowly. He disposed of the condom, then pulled her into his arms, tucking her against his chest.

For a long time, neither spoke.

Eventually, he pressed a kiss to her temple. “Stay,” he murmured. “All night.”

She nodded, tracing idle patterns on his chest. “Okay.”

He was quiet again, fingers stroking her hair. Then, softer: “This doesn’t have to be just sex, Em.”

Her heart stuttered. She lifted her head to look at him. His expression was guarded, but his eyes those storm-gray eyes were wide open.

“I don’t know how to do more,” he admitted. “But with you, I want to try.”

The vulnerability in his voice undid her. She leaned up and kissed him slow, tender, full of everything she’d felt for years.

“We’ll figure it out,” she whispered.

He smiled against her mouth, relief evident. “Yeah. We will.”

They drifted toward sleep tangled together, limbs heavy, hearts racing in tandem.

Hours later, Emma woke to the sound of her phone buzzing on the nightstand.

She reached for it groggily, squinting at the screen.

A text from Mia:

Home early. Connor’s sick. Where are you guys? House is dark.

Another buzz. This time a photo.

Emma’s stomach dropped.

The photo was taken from the hallway, Jake’s bedroom door cracked open just enough to show them in bed together her naked back, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist, both of them clearly asleep.

Below it, Mia’s message:

Well. This is awkward.

We need to talk. NOW.

Emma’s blood ran cold.

Jake stirred beside her, sensing her tension. “What’s wrong?”

She turned the phone toward him.

His face went pale.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

And right then, the front door downstairs slammed open, Mia’s voice echoing up the stairs furious, hurt, and getting closer.

“Emma? Jake? I know you’re up there!”