Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
He nods. “Yeah, may have dropped the puck on that one.”
“You think so?”
He gives me a sheepish grin as he hands me Emery’s “lost” phone. “Or I planned the whole thing.”
I roll my eyes, and I don’t doubt him for a second. Emery lays her head against my chest, and I don’t allow myself to enjoy this.
I am helping her home.
This means nothing.
But when Emery sighs deeply, her eyes shut, my armor cracks and falls to the ground in a heap. I look down at her for a moment, taking in the way her lashes kiss her cheeks. How her lips purse as she breathes. How fucking incredible she feels in my arms, and I know for a fact that I need to put her down, rearm myself before I proceed.
Because Emery Brooks means everything.
I feel like I’m on autopilot, or maybe I force myself to be on autopilot, as I get her into the car and head home. She guarantees me that she won’t puke, but I take it slow, just in case. She’s snoring lightly when I park the car. Even if it makes me a creep, I look her over, my gaze licking along her thighs and landing right on her bright-pink panties. My cock swells in my pants, begging to just touch her, but instead, I blow out a breath and force myself to be disgusted by my feelings.
I can’t.
Not for obvious reasons, but more so because of the situation.
Everything is a fucking mess.
I get out, groaning as my cock presses into the zipper of my slacks. I readjust myself and then head to the other side to get her out. She’s a limp noodle as I pick her up once more and carry her upstairs. She doesn’t stir, nor does she make a sound the whole way. Once inside, I kick the door shut, lock it, and take her to her room. It’s a mess in here, true Emery fashion, with clothes, bags, and shoes everywhere. Being as smart as she is, one would think she’d be tidy, but not Emery. Her mind runs a million miles an hour, so everything about her is pure chaos.
I lower her to the bed and reach for her shoes, but then I notice the puke along her legs.
“Fuck,” I mutter since I can’t let her sleep like that. I inhale a harsh breath, blowing it out in a whoosh because I know what I have to do.
The question is, can I make it through it?
I leave her there and go to the bathroom between our rooms. I turn on the shower, letting it warm up before chucking off my pants and shirt, along with my shoes. As much as I want to relieve myself of my boxer briefs, I need the barrier between us. When I go back into her room, she’s laid out like Patrick Starfish. I shake my head, trying not to laugh as I reach for her tank, pulling it up and finding that she doesn’t have a bra on. I hiss out a breath, trying my best not to ogle her sweet tits.
I fail miserably.
They’re teardrop-shaped, and her pink nipples bead once the air hits them. My whole body goes taut, my mouth watering at the sight. They’re bigger than I remember, and I wonder if I can still cover them whole with my mouth. She liked when I did that before. Not as much as I did, but she liked it.
“Stop thinking about what she likes,” I chastise myself, and when I have to shake out my hands, I feel like an utter fucker for not being able to touch my friend without getting turned on. I’m not a teenager. I’m a man, and I can handle getting my friend naked and bathed.
“Yes, you can,” I mutter to myself before I reach for the button of her skirt without running my hands over the roundness of her stomach. My hands still tremble against the button as I take in her body. She has new stretch marks, and fuck if I don’t want to lick each one. My cock throbs and heat gathers in my balls, but I somehow manage to get the button undone before hooking my thumbs into the skirt and her underwear. I pull them down, and I have to close my eyes because I know it’s going to be torture to see between her legs. I drop the skirt and then gather her up as I look at the ceiling. But when her breasts press to my chest, I can’t keep in the moan at the feeling of her against me. I have wanted this for so long. Craved the feel of her hot skin against mine. But fuck. No.
I’m bathing my friend.
That’s it.
“Quinn?” she whispers, and I hug her tighter to me as I carry her to the bathroom.