Ignoring her demand, he leaned over and put his mouth against her sex, breathing deeply as her scent wrapped around him and tied his brain in knots. “You’re not in charge.”
He stabbed his tongue deep as he pushed between her thighs. Her fingers were back on his head, twisting as she tried to get a firm enough grip to direct him. Dean didn’t give a damn about anything but listening to her moan in pleasure as he relearned her all over.
Every twitch, every sigh drove his need higher until she gasped, her thighs trembling as another orgasm took her. Emma laughed as she curled up and caught him by the shoulders, her hips slipping off the couch as he pulled her to the floor under him.
Her hair was tousled around her head, a sharp contrast with the pristine white carpet under her. Naked honey-toned skin passed silky smooth under his hand as Dean rolled to the side and simply gave in to the need to touch. Petting and caressing until she was squirming.
She arched her back and presented tight-tipped nipples to him. “Don’t stop,” she ordered. “Please. I want you inside me.”
Dean had planned to lick and explore for a lot longer, but her words were a trigger. He rose to his knees and forced down his jeans, inelegantly hauling them off. He scrambled in the pocket for a condom before tossing them aside.
Emma ran her hands along the waistband of his boxers for a second before dipping under and wrapping her fist around his cock. “Sweet Jesus, you’re so perfect,” she breathed in admiration, her heated palm stroking so expertly he was suddenly worried this was going to be the shortest reunion in history.
“Hands off the wheel,” he teased, shoving down the final layer between them and exposing the full length of his ready, oh-so-ready erection.
“Habit,” Emma whispered, but she let go and allowed him to finish slipping on the condom. Then he guided her to the floor, crawling over her and pinning her in place. The heavy weight of his cock brushed her belly as he kissed her. Once. Twice. He nipped her lips and rocked his hips, and she purred happily, her thighs opening in welcome, legs rising to wrap around him.
“Now,” Emma insisted. “Oh, please, now, Dean.”
It was far sooner than he’d intended, but hell if he could wait any longer. He reached between them and grasped his cock, lined up the head between her soft, wet folds, took a deep breath—
Music went off at maximum volume right beside his ear. Emma’s eyes widened, and she rolled from under him like her ass was on fire.
“My God, I’m so sorry, I have to get this.” She grabbed her phone off the coffee table and damn near sprinted for the hallway, her naked butt wiggling enticingly as she escaped. Her voice echoed off the walls briefly as she answered the call, then vanished into a side room.
Dean collapsed to his back and fought to keep from roaring in frustration. His cock fucking ached, and his lungs didn’t seem to be taking in enough oxygen.
He caught himself stroking his erection. What was the protocol when abandoned in mid-coitus? Should he jack off or wait for her?
God. So much for not thinking about the past. Because this was the past. Wanting Emma so damn bad and not being able to have her. Fighting the wicked fire of desire he’d held leashed for so long with an ironclad fist for both their sakes. He’d promised to wait until she was ready, and he’d done just that.
He’d waited two long years to make love to her when they were kids—surely he could wait two minutes right now.
He released his cock and stared at the ceiling, listening to the increasingly urgent tone of Emma’s voice as she spoke on the phone.
When she strode back into the living area a minute later, the unhappiness in her eyes—and the fact she’d covered herself up with a terrycloth robe—told him that he was in for a longer wait than anticipated.
“I am so sorry to do this,” Emma sighed, “but…”
With a sigh of his own, he sat up and swiped his boxers off the floor. “But you’re kicking me out.”
Misery shone in her expression. “I’m really, really sorry. I mean it, Dean. You don’t know how much I want to…” Her eyes ignited with heat before flickering with resignation. “But I can’t. I have to put out a work-related fire, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to be on the phone with Paris all night.”
“Is everything okay?” he asked, tugging his boxers on before searching for his jeans.
She ran an aggravated hand through her hair. “No, it’s not. My…boss made some comments to a reporter from Vogue, some incredibly inappropriate comments, and now it’s up to me to sweet-talk my way back into their good graces.” She groaned in frustration. “I’m sorry.”
“I understand.” He finished dressing and headed toward her, touching her cheek in reassurance.
“I want this,” Emma said firmly. “I really do want this to happen, and I promise you’ll have my full attention next time.”