The Perfect Homecoming (Pine River #3)

Emma moved toward him, gliding across the braided rug like a wraith. Cooper tensed, wary of her intent. But when she reached him, she climbed on top of him, forcing him onto his back as she straddled his groin. He put his hands on her hips, his thumb sliding under the tiny strip of panty on her hip. Her hair spilled around her shoulders, her eyes shining in the low light. She was sexy as hell, and his body was responding, hardening against her.

Emma casually scraped her fingers down his pecs, across his nipples. She slid her palms to his shoulders, then leaned down to kiss him. God help him, but her mouth and tongue were so soft against his. Every vein in him began to swell with desire, and Cooper kissed her back, sinking his fingers into her hair, gripping thick ropes of blond silk in his fist. He knew she was using her body to toy with him, and yet, he couldn’t keep from responding.

She shifted, her mouth sliding to his neck.

“This is beneath you, Emma,” he said gruffly.

“You’re beneath me,” she murmured, and licked his ear.

“You don’t even like me,” he reminded her.

“Not true. But what does it matter? You like this,” she said, sliding her hand in between their bodies and over his erection.

He hated the machination, the manipulation. He hated even more that he was aroused by it. He abruptly sat up and caught her wrist, forcing her to look at him. “My dick likes it. Don’t confuse that with me. I don’t like it.”

“Come on, Cooper,” she purred. “You want this.” She surged forward, catching his head between her hands, kissing him.

Damn it, he did want it. He was male, he wanted sex, he always wanted sex, and part of him was berating himself for ruining a good thing. But he wasn’t going to have sex like this. It was cheap and meaningless, it was overt manipulation, and this was not the way he wanted Emma Tyler. Cooper wasn’t certain he wanted her at all, but if he ever did, it damn sure wouldn’t be like this. He pulled her hands from his head and pushed her back. “That’s enough.”

“Liar,” she said, and shimmied back, onto his thighs. She smiled as she began to trail kisses down his chest, her gaze on him, daring him to stop her as she moved to his groin.

Cooper grabbed her roughly by the arms and hauled her up. Emma gasped, wincing a little, but Cooper didn’t loosen his grip. “I said no,” he said firmly.

She laughed, the sound of it harsh. “You just lost your chance,” she said, and shifted back, bracing her hands against his chest to climb off of him.

Cooper swung his legs off the side of the couch. “If we’re going to have sex, the desire will be mutual. No power plays.”

He saw the almost imperceptible hitch in her shoulders. “There will never be anything mutual between us, Cooper. I don’t do things in the ordinary ways. I don’t do ordinary love. Haven’t you learned anything about me?”

She turned, as if she was going to leave the room, but Cooper caught her hand in his. “No one said anything about love, ordinary or otherwise,” he said. “I swear to God I can’t figure you out, Emma, but I’m not your adversary.”

Emma hesitated; her fingers curled a little around his. It was nothing more than a brush, really, but in that darkened room, it felt a little to Cooper as if she were clinging to him. Her fingers scraping, however faintly, against a life ring.

And then her fingers slipped away from his altogether. “I never implied you were my adversary. I never said anything about you at all, other than you should go home. You do need to go, Cooper. So I came down here to tell you that I have it.”

Cooper’s head was still wrapped around the physical encounter between them and the notion that there could never be anything mutual between them. “Have what?” he asked impatiently.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “What do you think?”

He realized what she meant. “Are you kidding?”

“You’re surprised? You said you didn’t believe me.”

“Where is it?”

Emma reached for something on the end table. She took his hand and turned it palm up, then put the box into his palm.

Cooper opened the box, saw the medal nestled inside, and closed the box.

“Jesus,” he said, and pushed a hand through his hair.

Emma floated down onto the couch beside him, looking deflated.

“Why?” he asked. Why lie, why now, why take it in the first place? God, there were so many things he didn’t understand about this woman. So many little twists and turns that made no sense.

“Why?” she echoed.

“Why do you have it?” he asked her. “Why did you take it?”

She bit her lower lip and shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s just a weird thing,” she said with a flick of her wrist.

“Then why didn’t you just tell me? Why didn’t you give it to me the day I showed up instead of dragging it out like this? Why even hide it?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she asked curtly. “I’m ashamed of myself. I would rather lie than admit I took that stupid box. But you . . you just wouldn’t give up,” she said, her voice filled with wonder.

Cooper fell back against the couch. He was relieved and he was oddly disappointed. Not that she had it—he’d known that all along. It was her explanation. He wished there had been something—she robbed Peter to pay Paul, anything other than it’s just a weird thing.

“Thanks,” he said.