Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
His mood is souring and I’m not sure why.
“Forget it. Let’s just go to bed, we have early classes in the morning.” He gets up in a flurry, grabbing the empty beer bottles from the end table, bringing them into the kitchen, depositing them on the counter with a loud clunk. I jump at the sound, wondering what exactly I said wrong. I don't want to lose him, but I don't know how to make this right. He leans against the island his head hung low…
Say something, Emerson… before I can get a word out, he huffs out a loud sigh and heads for the hallway. My heart thuds loudly in my ears, and I swallow around the concrete lump in my throat.
“Goodnight,” he murmurs and pulls his bedroom door shut, the sound though quiet roars through me. He’s shutting me out, shutting down. Getting up, I move away from the couch and toward my own room to get ready for bed, my mind lingering with so many questions. Did I remind him that he wants to date other girls and then he won’t be able to have sex because of me? Or was it something else? Maybe I should have just agreed without question him.
Curling into bed with my thoughts mingled into a mess and my heart heavy in my chest, I close my eyes, hoping for a dreamless sleep. But when sleep finds me, it’s anything but dreamless.
Chapter Seven
Clark
For a second time this week I'm woken up by Emerson’s piercing scream. This time there is no confusion. I know right away that it’s her and what I need to do.
She needs me.
I’m out of the bed and at her door in a second flat. Grabbing the knob, I twist it relieved to find that she didn't lock herself in like last time. Opening the door, I find her room is dark, but not immersed in darkness the curtains open enough, to let the soft moonlight filter in through the window.
My eyes move to the bed, finding her thrashing against the sheets. I don’t try to wake her, instead, I crawl into bed next to her and circle her waist with my arms pulling her into my chest. She feels like she belongs there, inside me, like she’s an extension of me.
“It’s okay, Em. I’m here,” I said softly. It only takes a few seconds for her screams to turn into low whimpers. Her nightmare fading away with every soothing word I whisper into her hair.
She turns her face into my chest, her hot breath fanning out over my bare skin and only then do I realize that I’m shirtless. Shit.
I really hope that’s not going to freak her out when she wakes up. Fuck. I contemplate on getting up and putting some more clothes on since I’m wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, but when I try to peel myself away, she protests.
A displeased sound elicits from her and her small hands grab for me in her sleep. It’s almost like she doesn’t just need me but wants me. Her nails dig into my flesh and a mixture of pain and arousal zings through me.
Don’t get hard. Don’t get hard. It’s getting impossible to ignore the way my body reacts to hers. My mind and my body aren't even in the same universe right now.
There’s this intense push and pull going on between us. I know I can’t have her like this, sexually. I would never push her like that, and I don’t expect anything from her. But fuck, I can’t deny that I want her. Not having had sex in over a week doesn’t help at all. Which makes me think about what she said earlier.
I don’t know why her comment made me so mad. I guess I didn’t want her to think I was going to pick some chick like Sarah over her for sex. I don’t ever want her to feel less or broken because obviously she doesn’t want to get physical.
I mean, I like sex, more than like, but I like Emerson more. I never thought I would say this but I’m willing to sacrifice my sex life for her.
I don’t go back to sleep, too many thoughts swirling around in my mind. Can I really do this, can I force my body to stop wanting her physically so I can have her in my life? Or am I in over my head?
By the time she starts to stir, the sun is already peeking up over the horizon, filling the room with rays of red sunlight. Emerson is sprawled out on my chest, her cheek pressed against my skin, as I absentmindedly rub my hand over her lower back.
Without looking at her face, I know the exact moment she’s fully awake. Her body going stiff before she slowly starts to lift her head. I look down at her face, expecting her to have a small panic attack, preparing for it but instead I find her looking more embarrassed than anything else. Her cheeks tinted pink, her lashes fluttering against them innocently. She looks like a goddamn angel.