A second later, I follow, arousal snaking down my spine. I rock my hips into her slower, delving deep as I let go, coming inside of her in hot spurts. A deep groan sounds from my chest, and my hands grasp tightly on to her waist as the aftershocks of her orgasm rock through her.
“Holy shit,” she mumbles, glancing up at me with darkened pupils and flushed cheeks.
This was dirty, and rough, and hot as fuck.
And suddenly, I find myself wishing it was for more than the one night we promised.
emma
Mistle-No
I feel like I’ve got a neon sign over my head that says, “I had the best sex of my life with a man I sometimes want to murder,” and it’s following me around everywhere I go. And by sometimes, I mean all of the time that he isn’t giving me orgasms.
Logically, I know that’s not true, but it seems like ever since the night that we shall not discuss, the entire town has been whispering and following me with their eyes even more than usual.
“You’re being paranoid, Emma. Chill,” I mutter to myself, closing my eyes and counting to ten, then exhaling a steady breath.
“What was that, darling?”
My eyes fly open, and I see my mother standing in the kitchen, her brow furrowed in question, which is saying a lot considering the amount of money she spends each month on Botox.
I clear my throat and shake my head, pasting on a smile. “Nothing, I was just going over my to-do list in my head. I just wanted to sit with you really quick and go over a few things.”
A few things being that I might actually be the worst Worthington in the history of my entire bloodline. I nervously chew my lip as she nods and gestures to the grand dining room table. As always, it’s set to perfection.
I wouldn’t expect anything less from Amelia Worthington. Everything in our household has always been proper and organized, or my mother would lose her mind, and nobody wanted that. I grew up realizing from a very early age that my mother expected the very same perfection out of me, and somewhere along the way, the pressure to be what she expected me to be began to feel… suffocating.
More so now than ever. I hated to disappoint her, even as an adult.
“Well, sit down, Emma, you’re making me nervous,” she says from the opposite chair.
“Sorry, I’m feeling a bit, uh, distracted today.” I pull out the chair and smooth the back of my skirt before taking a seat. Her gaze is trained on me as I sit there in silence.
I don’t know the right way to come out and say it, so I’m just going to say it and get it over with.
“There was a little… altercation a few days ago. I know you were out of town for the work trip with Dad, and I wanted to be the first one to tell you. “
Her eyebrows rise slightly, causing her brows to reach the blonde wisps of her bangs. She’s wearing her hair half up and half down today, secured tightly with a Chanel clip that’s almost the same shade as the red on her lips. Her signature color.
She’s always said that it’s the perfect shade to match the bloodred ruby earrings my father gifted her on their first wedding anniversary. Her makeup is flawless and her clothing classy yet effortlessly casual.
My mother has always been the face of the ladies society in Strawberry Hollow. A perfect Worthington woman, which means that she has always set the bar high.
“What kind of altercation?” she asks, her expression scandalized.
“I ran into Jackson Pearce at the general store, and we had a small… disagreement. It was honestly so silly, and I realize that now, but as you know, the Pearce family has the uncanny ability to push you like no other. I didn’t realize in my argument with him how close I was to the glass ornament display, and when I stepped back… it fell over and shattered.”
My mother gasps, covering her mouth. “Oh, Emma!”
“Obviously, it was an accident. A terrible accident, and to make a very long, ridiculously silly story short, there were consequences. Consequences I was totally prepared to handle, but unfortunately, Mayor Davis says that neither the Pearce family nor the Worthingtons can have a Christmas party… unless it’s at Town Hall. Together.”
I’ve never seen my mother go as pale as she does when she hears the news. For a second, she’s frozen in shock, her perfect face unmoving.
“I know it’s not the best-case scenario, but I think that it will be o—”
“Emma.” She finally speaks, her voice rising with every word. “Do you mean to say that we have to be around the… Pearce family. To have our annual Christmas party… together?”
I nod, biting my lip, unsure if the question is actually one she wants me to answer or if she’s just in shock.
She stands abruptly, the sound of her heels clicking against the marble tile as she paces the dining room. It’s rare to see her so… frazzled. My mother is always the picture of calm and put together. Seeing her this way is slightly unnerving.
“This might actually be what causes your father to have a heart attack. Don’t you remember last year? My goodness, it took him an entire week to calm down after that whole debacle. Flipping all of our outdoor decorations upside down. The nerve! To come onto our property and vandalize it in such a way.” She mumbles, her fingers massaging her temples, still pacing. “And now you’re saying we have to host the party with the very family that has tried to disrupt our tradition for years? This is not good, Emma, not good at all.”
I nod sheepishly, even though I’m not surprised by her reaction.
Finally, she pauses in front of me, composing herself. She raises her chin slightly as if this is only a small blip in her day.
“And you’re absolutely sure that there is no other way around this… situation?”
“Well, it’s either this or I’ll have a criminal record.”
The sound that leaves her mouth is part gasp, part pained whimper, and it causes me to shrink back slightly in my chair. I hate disappointing my family in any way, and I can practically feel it rolling off her in waves.
“Out of the question. Not even in the realm of possibility.” Blowing out an exasperated breath that moves the wisps of her bangs, she continues. “But it seems like there is not another option, is there? As unfortunate as it is, you and… Mr. Pearce will have to work together to make this happen, Emma. Not only to keep your record and your namesake clean but because we will not have the Worthington name attached to just any basic party. We have a reputation to uphold in this community. You know how important this party is to the Worthingtons. It’s our family’s tradition. Worthingtons have been hosting the town Christmas party ever since our town was founded, when our ancestors first settled in Strawberry Hollow.”