Текст книги "Fever dream"

Автор книги: Elsie Silver

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“Maybe one day. But not today.”

Then I dive in, pulling out every stop to make her feel good and forget about every other man who has ever existed.

I spread her with my hands, thumbs trailing up over her lips, tongue trailing close behind. She tastes like heaven, and the sounds she makes drive me wild.

When I spear her with my tongue, her body bucks against the intrusion and she murmurs my name, voice thick, fingers weaving into my hair.

She grinds against my face with reckless abandon. “Emmett, yes.”

“Quiet, doll,” I murmur against her tender flesh. “They’re filming just outside.” I move my mouth back up to her clit and slip two fingers inside to fill her up the way I know she needs.

Julia gasps, and I’m pretty sure it’s partially from the sensation and partially from the realization that we are sneaking around—flying dangerously close to the sun.

Her words transform into wordless moans, and I can feel from the tautness in her body that she’s trying desperately to keep quiet.

And I don’t make it easy for her. I work her hard. Fucking her with my fingers and feeling her go so warm and wet around me. Tasting her arousal as she makes a mess for me. Watching every twitch of her muscles. Storing away every needy sound she makes so that I can play this soundtrack in my head when I’m alone later and fucking my fist while thinking of her.

“You going to come for me, Jules?” I taunt while trailing my mouth over her inner thigh, adding a third finger and watching her stretch for me.

“Yes. Fuck. Please. Please don’t stop.” Her quiet voice brims with tension, and her skin hums beneath me as I slip a palm up the underside of her leg, spreading her wider before doubling my efforts.

She asked me not to stop. And who am I to deny her?

I don’t stop. I use my mouth to show her how badly I want her—how badly I need her. Sucking, licking, biting.

And when her legs shake, I still don’t let up. Her fingernails grip my scalp. I can tell how close to the edge she is.

And I shove her right over.

She cries out as her body bows off the bench, and my free hand shoots up to cover her mouth. I want to hear her make that noise over and over again.

I hold her there, still going, wanting to draw out her pleasure for as long as I can before I have to go back out there and pretend I have eyes for anyone other than the woman stretched out before me right now.

“Mm,” she murmurs before her body goes soft.

I watch her. Pink cheeks. Glassy eyes. Damp skin.

She looks thoroughly sated, and it makes me feel like a king. Making her feel good is a high I’ve never felt before.

She throws an arm over her face with a contented sigh and a disbelieving giggle. “I might owe you one for that.”

I pull my fingers from her, loving the sight of her slick, puffy, pink pussy before me. It makes me want to throw caution to the wind. Rip off my belt and impale her on my cock. Listen to her scream my name over and over again.

But I can’t. Not here. Not now.

“No, doll,” I drop a kiss on her thigh. “That was all for me.”

I’m not lying. I needed that. Needed her. To feel… us.

Suddenly, the reality of it all feels heavy. It feels real. It feels like the thing I’ve been avoiding.

If nothing else, it’s exactly what we agreed we would not do.

But with her, my willpower is trash. I’m not sure why I bothered trying when everything with her feels completely inevitable. Like it’s meant to be.

We’re meant to be.

Still kneeling, I reach for her jeans as she sits up.

“Sorry,” I mutter, slipping her ankles into her pants.

She laughs. “No, you’re not.”

I grin now, staring at her legs as I attempt to get her dressed again. When I finally peek up at her face, she looks… lighter somehow. Happy. And that makes breaking all my rules worth it.

“No, I’m not,” I finally confess with a wink.

“That was—”

“Hot as hell and also dangerous as fuck.” I glance over my shoulder, hoping against hope that no one heard us or is figuring out that we’re locked in here together. “I have to get back.” Regret tinges my voice as I turn my attention to her.

She stares at me with a soft smile on her lips. She’s fucking perfect. Too perfect for me. Too good to be true.

But I don’t tell her that. I just push up and kiss her, taking her mouth with a gentleness that doesn’t match the way I just took the rest of her.

“See you out there,” I say, drawing away even though I don’t want to.

It’s only when I’ve reached the door that she hisses, “Wait!”

When I turn, she’s looking around herself, searching for something. “My panties are missing.”

“No, they’re not.” I reach back, removing them from my pocket with one quick tug.

They dangle from my pointer finger.

Her eyes widen. “Give them back.”

“No chance. These are mine now. Let’s call them a souvenir.” Her jaw drops open as I toss her a cocky wink and push them into my jeans.

“You can’t just—”

“What? Go out there and continue recording with your underwear in my pocket? Watch me.”

I don’t give her a chance to respond. I just turn and walk back to the set, only thinking about the fact that she wants a repeat performance.

Hands slung casually in my pockets, panties pinched between my fingers, I announce to the cast and crew, “Sorry, looked everywhere and couldn’t find any spurs.”

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CHAPTER 29

Julia

Julia

Need to run something past you.

Emmett

In person?

Julia

Yes. Where are you?

Emmett

Is this code for you want me to go down on you again like yesterday?

Julia

We’re really excelling at keeping it professional, huh?

Emmett

I’ve never excelled at professionalism, to be honest. But I promise not to eat your pussy again.

Emmett

This morning.

Emmett

Maybe later, though. If you’re lucky.

Julia

That was a onetime thing, remember? Now tell me where you are.

Emmett

Barn office, going over a couple of contracts for Parker.

Julia

Be there in twenty minutes. I’ll try to wear something that will keep your mind out of the gutter.

Emmett

Doll, that outfit doesn’t exist.

I woke up to an email from Richard telling me to double-check the set and make sure nothing is out of place for tonight’s elimination ceremony. I already know it’s perfect because I manage this location with neurotic precision. After all, it’s my cover for spending more time around Emmett.

But the final line of “don’t let me down” read an awful lot like a threat. So here I am, checking the setup at the bunkhouse. Flowerpots watered, and their contents deadheaded. The trellis and archway set exactly the way they need to be for filming. Everything in order, as expected.

This is also my way of stalling on the second request in that email from the big boss. The part where he wants me to book Emmett for a bull-riding demo at a local rodeo. Richard believes it will make him “even more irresistible” to the women on the show and to the viewers. And while I don’t disagree, I do know that, thanks to Carl, Emmett’s feelings around the local rodeo circuit might be… complicated.

So my plan is to check in with him on that—uncomfortable as it might be. But first things first.

I knock on the open screen door as I pop my head in the front door of the bunkhouse. “Hello, ladies,” I call out as I step into the living room.

Jada, Akira, and Catherine are hanging out in the living room. Jada has Akira’s foot in her lap and is painting her toenails. Catherine is seated close by with her feet in a footbath.

“Julia!” Jada greets me with genuine enthusiasm and a welcoming smile. She’s usually dressed to the nines, but today she’s slouched back in a matching sweatsuit with her cornrow braids pulled up into a high ponytail. “Come hang out! We’re doing pedicures for each other, and I just used this toothpick to draw a dick on Akira’s big toe.”

Akira shoots me a dramatic disapproving look, but the slight twitch of her lips gives away her smothered amusement.

Catherine waves me in. “She really did. Come see.”

I slip off my shoes and pad across the floor, grinning.

Sure enough, Akira’s biggest toenail is painted a pale pink and layered on top, in darker pink, is a tiny cock and balls.

“Wow,” I breathe, genuinely impressed. “It’s even anatomically correct. Are those little dots supposed to be hair on the ballsack?”

Jada’s shoulders shimmy proudly while Akira’s head flops back on a pillow with an embarrassed groan. “Damn right they are!”

“Want to match, Julia?” Akira asks. “I bet Jada would be happy to give you dick-toes too.”

I snort a laugh as Catherine dissolves into giggles. Akira and Jada grin at each other, and I soak in the moment’s genuine affection.

This quiet show of camaraderie between the remaining women warms my Richard-darkened heart. Because behind all the manufactured drama, real female friendships are forming. The show can make it appear that these women are pitted against one another, but behind the scenes, they’re painting dicks on toenails and cracking jokes about it.

There’s only one woman missing.

Beyond them, seated at the kitchen island, is Evelyn. Flipping through a magazine. By herself. I catch her watching, longing flickering in her eyes. Until she notices me looking, then she purses her lips and stares back down at the magazine.

For a beat, in spite of everything, I feel sad for Evelyn. That she’s in a position where she can’t let herself enjoy the quieter moments that come with the show. That Richard has her so tightly under his thumb that she feels the need to play the villain even when the cameras aren’t rolling.

It makes me hate him even more.

“Here,” Jada pats the couch, drawing my attention back to them. “Sit down. Matching dick-toes are coming right up.”

I laugh and shake my head. A big part of me wants to be a part of this—I’ve been missing this kind of friendship in my life—but hanging out with the contestants wouldn’t be appropriate. And I’m already crossing boundaries where professionalism is concerned.

“You’re a true artist, Jada. And as tempting as the offer is, I’m just here to check in on everything in the house. Wanted to make sure the set and interior is holding up okay. Anything that needs fixing?”

They all exchange looks and shake their heads. But it’s Akira who makes me preen. “Everything is perfect, Julia. This has been a beautiful place to live. Thank you for all your hard work.”

The other women nod their agreement and I tear up at the approval, potently missing my dad. Wishing he were here so I could tell him what a good job I’m doing. He’d be proud.

With watery eyes, I thank them and take my leave, checking over the rest of the yard while blinking more than is strictly necessary.

Once that’s done, I end up sitting on the love seat swing, rocking gently to soothe myself. I can’t help but remember the day Emmett and I built it together, working quietly side by side.

If I’d known then how I would feel on set, I might not have enjoyed the moment as much as I did. Watching on set has truly become my special way of torturing myself, because I know it needs to be done. Hell, I want Emmett to see this through. I want that final payday for him and his family.

But I also want him. All to myself.

The sudden urge to find him hits me hard. And without thinking, I get up, letting my heart lead my feet down the gravel driveway toward the main barn.

When I round the corner, a truck I don’t recognize is parked along the fence line, hidden from view of the stables and main farmhouse. There are plenty of proper parking stalls, so the sight gives me pause.

Deciding it must be a crew member avoiding taking up a spot, I give in to the real source of my hesitation.

Telling Emmett about the rodeo angle.

I’ve decided to soften the ask by getting his opinion. There are a couple of upcoming rodeos to choose from, and I want his advice before I pick one. I also want to take his temperature about doing this at all.

With a centering breath, I round the corner of the barn, heading toward the front door, when I see Riley already on a horse in the outdoor sand.

I toss her a friendly wave and head toward the ring to say hello. “Up and at ’em, huh?”

She pulls an earbud out and trots to the fence line with a soft “whoa” as she brings the horse to a gentle halt. “Too fucking hot to work the horses unless I start at first light. We leave tonight for several weeks of competition and training in Alberta, so I’m getting their sillies out before a long trailer ride.”

“Exciting stuff. How long will you be gone for?”

She shrugs. “The rest of the summer.”

“Well, in that case, good luck. I’m rooting for you.”

She smiles kindly. Freckles dot her nose and cheeks, where there’s a pink tinge from long days spent in the sun. “Thanks, Jules. You going on another date with Dominic?”

I prop my forearms against the fence, appearing as though I’m considering, but I’m not. Riley is a straight shooter, though, so I give her the truth. “No.”

She grins bigger at me now, white teeth flashing as her green eyes do the same. “Fair. Emmett will appreciate that, considering how he follows you around sporting big heart eyes and all.”

My cheeks flare. It would appear the news of him crashing my date has made it to the rest of his family. All I can do is chuckle and press my lips together. Because what am I supposed to say to his sister?

He’s done a lot more than that?

I think I might have heart eyes too?

We’re really complicated and really horny?

“I don’t know about that.” I laugh awkwardly and push off the top board of the fence to turn away.

“Julia?” The earnest tone in Riley’s voice brings me up short.

I tilt my head to look back up at her, caramel-colored braid spilling from under her black helmet. “Mm-hmm?”

“Just… be careful with him, yeah? Underneath all that snark, he’s a lot more softhearted than he seems.”

I blink once, processing her words. She’s right. Because the Emmett I know is not the Emmett I’d been warned about.

I nod and say, “I promise.”

Then I turn and walk into the barn, knowing that I don’t make promises I can’t keep.

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CHAPTER 30

Julia

A LOUD VOICE STOPS me in my tracks as I wander down the barn alleyway.

“What is wrong with you?” The question booms from the office, setting my heart to racing as I carefully step closer to the wall.

“Nothing,” Emmett’s voice responds. It’s even but… dead. Not heated, just completely flat and detached. “I’m doing what needs to be done.”

“What needs to be done?” I flinch at the harshness in the other man’s voice, flattening my back against the wall and edging quietly toward the open door.

Peeking around the corner, I see the back of a man I don’t recognize. Gray hair pokes out from under a ball cap, the tank top he’s sporting revealing a boxy build.

Emmett sits against the edge of the desk in the corner where I know Parker often spends many hours working. Filing cabinets and mismatched shelves line the wall. The linoleum is scuffed to hell.

Which is what I’m looking at when the man steps closer and kicks Emmett’s booted foot. Hard.

My body goes taut, immediately on alert. It’s not the challenging nudge I’d given him behind that cheesy western bar, but seeing this now still fills me with guilt.

“What needs to be done is you training. Not fucking around. Missing qualifiers to fly off to Florida to do god knows what.”

My stomach sinks. Then the man slaps Emmett’s shoulder, and my ire rises. “Now you’re playing a bachelor on TV? Like people give a fuck about you?”

“Nope, they don’t,” Emmett bites out, but his eyes drop. His shoulders round forward just slightly even though his arms are crossed.

A man who has looked nothing short of cocky and prideful every time I’ve seen him looks utterly humiliated. And based on what I know, there’s only one person this man could be.

He leans closer, towering over Emmett, and my eyes sting. All I can think about is a ten-year-old boy losing his parents and then being forced to endure this.

“You’re a fucking embarrassment. No woman is going to stick around for you, especially not now that she knows you’re some beta Hollywood phony,” the man spits, more hissing than yelling now. Emmett shrinks again, and the bridge of my nose burns. “You’re a waste of fucking space—”

I want to cry but instead, I spring into action, refusing to let the man who saved me at my most vulnerable endure this vitriol. I sprint back down the alleyway and turn to walk toward them once again, but this time I’m extraheavy on my feet.

I want them to hear me coming.

“Emmett?” I shout as though I’m looking for him. I make a show of poking my head into the indoor arena even though I know he’s not in there. “Emmett? We need you on set!”

My heart pounds in my ears. Because I don’t know the extent of this man’s abusive tendencies, and I’ve just waltzed right into his rage fit. I turn and head for the office.

Emmett hasn’t moved. He’s frozen in place. Jaw clenched, body tense like he’s made of stone. His dad has stepped away from him, but I can tell he’s still seething.

I brush past the discomfort, dedicated to pretending I’m oblivious to what I’ve just walked in on. “Oh, good.” I smile briefly. “There you are.”

Neither man says anything, so I keep it going by pulling out my phone and swiping open my email. I click on one that tells me IKEA is having a summer sale and pretend it’s an important work memo.

“Okay, so we need to go over a few things in this email before we film today. Do you have a few minutes? Really got to get these points covered fast or Richard will kill me.” I point down at a daybed frame called Fyresdal as though it’s a vital note from my boss.

His dad snorts and shoots him a mocking glare before turning and breezing past me without another word.

I lift my gaze to Emmett, but he won’t meet my eyes. It appears as though he’s found something exceptionally interesting on the floor in the corner.

So, I give him space. I follow Carl’s path quietly and check the barn alleyway before closing the door. My fingers flip the small lock on the door handle, the click echoing in the silent office. If someone needs to get in here, they can fucking wait.

I make my way back over to Emmett.

Emmett who looks like a beaten dog and is breaking my fucking heart.

“Hey,” I venture, wanting to comfort him but also recognizing that he looks like an elastic band pulled too tight right now. Tense and ready to snap.

“Just tell me what Richard’s email says.”

A ragged inhale lifts my shoulders, then I let out a rough breath. “I lied. There’s no email.”

He finally tilts his head in a way that allows his eyes to meet mine. Crystal blue and full of so much pain. He’s trying to look exasperated, but all I see is a broken boy, covering for years and years of hurt feelings.

It draws me closer. My hands visibly shake as I reach for him and cup each of his elbows. I get no response. But he doesn’t tell me to stop, so I move closer, my feet bracketing his as my hands slip up and around his neck.

Then, I hug him.

I hug him hard and with intention. I don’t know what to say to him, but I’m hoping my touch says everything I wish I could.

Several seconds pass, and he still doesn’t move. It freaks me out. He feels completely unresponsive. Or maybe he just doesn’t want me to touch him—after all, this is pretty sappy for the two of us.

So I fall back on something that has historically worked for us.

Humor.

I turn my head, my lips brushing against the shell of his ear as I whisper in a deadly tone, “Do you want me to kill him?”

A rough chuckle lurches from his lips, and—finally—he hugs me back. Strong arms encircle my rib cage as he crushes me to him with a level of desperation I didn’t expect.

It feels less like he wants me, and more like he needs me.

We’ve touched each other before, but not like this. My entire body sighs in relief at the sensation of his arms wrapping around me. I exhale and give in to instinct, pressing a firm kiss to his neck before hugging him tighter.

I don’t know how long we stand here, holding each other. Breathing each other in. He smells of cedar and laundry soap. To me, it’s heaven. And I revel in him holding me.

“Jules?” he finally whispers after several quiet minutes.

“Yeah?”

“We’re supposed to be staying away from each other. What are we doing here?”

I roll my forehead across his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck. “Fuck if I know.”

His arms flex around me in response. And then, “Me neither. But I know I like doing it with you.”

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