made it all the way home and into her living room before she fell apart.
Chapter 15
Mick threw his bags on the couch and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He could hear Em walking around upstairs. He wasn’t supposed to be back for a few days, but the project was running smoothly and he really couldn’t take any more of his client’s ego. Musical genius, my ass . He had been thinking about Em all week.
After he finished brushing his teeth, he peered at himself in the mirror. He saw a man with wrinkles around eyes that were red from lack of sleep, silver in his almost-too-long beard, and grey in his definitely-too-long hair. He hadn’t talked with Rory about The Kiss, knowing that the Irishman would break into his apartment and strategically place condoms everywhere, then do everything in his power to arrange a physical meeting between Em and Mick. Mick wasn’t sure he was ready for anything of the sort.
One thing he was sure about was the fact that he really did enjoy kissing Em, and he thought he might like to do it again.
He remembered Em’s small, soft hands on his face and around his neck and that luscious sent of oranges when he ran his nose behind her ear. The way she grasped his shirt. The little sighs she made as their tongues wrestled. Those thoughts made his balls heavy and his cock stiffen.
What was he, 16? He hadn’t had a hard-on for anyone other than Grace, or dreams of Grace, in 20 years. But all last week, in his dreams, Em’s soft, lush curves and the dark brown waves of her hair had replaced Grace’s taut, athletic body and outrageous red curls.
He gripped the bathroom counter. What the hell was he doing? He splashed cold water on his face, hoping to clear his head. Was he ready for this? For anything? He knew that he wanted to see Em. He had enjoyed her company immensely, more than anyone’s company in a long, long time. He had friends, and had even dated a bit since Grace died, but he hadn’t felt anything that warranted a second date with anyone, much less a feeling that he would do just about anything to kiss her again.
Mick took a deep breath and then exhaled. He did it again. He looked in the mirror one last time. He looked down at his crotch.
“You, Willy, need to mind your manners. No barging out uninvited,” he lectured sternly. He clapped his hands and with a thumbs up to his reflection, left the safety of his bathroom and went upstairs to Em’s.
*****
Em had been home for hours, but she hadn’t done more than pour herself a stiff drink, open the carton of ice cream, and turn on a movie. God, she was a cliché. At least she wasn’t drinking Pinot Grigio or Chardonnay out of a screw-top bottle, or heaven forbid, a cardboard box.
She clinked her spoon against the lowball glass and took a swallow of Scotch. If she were Bailey, she wouldn’t be able to enjoy this Scotch because she was knocked up, which was the direct result of sex with Tripp. That was a definite plus.
Em contemplated sex as she rolled a heaping spoonful of ice cream over her tongue. It had been a long time since she had sex with another person. As many times as Big Blue made her come, it couldn’t compare with sex with a real, live man.
Well, not particularly sex with Tripp. That was eh bordering on ewwww . He was always selfish, hardly ever bringing her orgasm and then getting insulted when she tried to enhance the experience herself. And that was even before The Surgery.
After The Surgery, Tripp seemed to lose all interest. It was like if he couldn’t get a child out of the act, he didn’t even want to do it.
Em knew her body had changed after. Her trim stomach wasn’t flat anymore and she had one wicked scar running down the length of it. The scar had faded a bit now, but you could still see it. She had gotten the tattoos around her hips to disguise it at the beginning, but then, she’d added to the initial design because she liked the idea of turning something life-changing and
Chapter 15
Mick threw his bags on the couch and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He could hear Em walking around upstairs. He wasn’t supposed to be back for a few days, but the project was running smoothly and he really couldn’t take any more of his client’s ego. Musical genius, my ass . He had been thinking about Em all week.
After he finished brushing his teeth, he peered at himself in the mirror. He saw a man with wrinkles around eyes that were red from lack of sleep, silver in his almost-too-long beard, and grey in his definitely-too-long hair. He hadn’t talked with Rory about The Kiss, knowing that the Irishman would break into his apartment and strategically place condoms everywhere, then do everything in his power to arrange a physical meeting between Em and Mick. Mick wasn’t sure he was ready for anything of the sort.
One thing he was sure about was the fact that he really did enjoy kissing Em, and he thought he might like to do it again.
He remembered Em’s small, soft hands on his face and around his neck and that luscious sent of oranges when he ran his nose behind her ear. The way she grasped his shirt. The little sighs she made as their tongues wrestled. Those thoughts made his balls heavy and his cock stiffen.
What was he, 16? He hadn’t had a hard-on for anyone other than Grace, or dreams of Grace, in 20 years. But all last week, in his dreams, Em’s soft, lush curves and the dark brown waves of her hair had replaced Grace’s taut, athletic body and outrageous red curls.
He gripped the bathroom counter. What the hell was he doing? He splashed cold water on his face, hoping to clear his head. Was he ready for this? For anything? He knew that he wanted to see Em. He had enjoyed her company immensely, more than anyone’s company in a long, long time. He had friends, and had even dated a bit since Grace died, but he hadn’t felt anything that warranted a second date with anyone, much less a feeling that he would do just about anything to kiss her again.
Mick took a deep breath and then exhaled. He did it again. He looked in the mirror one last time. He looked down at his crotch.
“You, Willy, need to mind your manners. No barging out uninvited,” he lectured sternly. He clapped his hands and with a thumbs up to his reflection, left the safety of his bathroom and went upstairs to Em’s.
*****
Em had been home for hours, but she hadn’t done more than pour herself a stiff drink, open the carton of ice cream, and turn on a movie. God, she was a cliché. At least she wasn’t drinking Pinot Grigio or Chardonnay out of a screw-top bottle, or heaven forbid, a cardboard box.
She clinked her spoon against the lowball glass and took a swallow of Scotch. If she were Bailey, she wouldn’t be able to enjoy this Scotch because she was knocked up, which was the direct result of sex with Tripp. That was a definite plus.
Em contemplated sex as she rolled a heaping spoonful of ice cream over her tongue. It had been a long time since she had sex with another person. As many times as Big Blue made her come, it couldn’t compare with sex with a real, live man.
Well, not particularly sex with Tripp. That was eh bordering on ewwww . He was always selfish, hardly ever bringing her orgasm and then getting insulted when she tried to enhance the experience herself. And that was even before The Surgery.
After The Surgery, Tripp seemed to lose all interest. It was like if he couldn’t get a child out of the act, he didn’t even want to do it.
Em knew her body had changed after. Her trim stomach wasn’t flat anymore and she had one wicked scar running down the length of it. The scar had faded a bit now, but you could still see it. She had gotten the tattoos around her hips to disguise it at the beginning, but then, she’d added to the initial design because she liked the idea of turning something life-changing and
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