After a wistful moment, she turns and heads inside, the lock clicking into place once she shuts the door.
“Good night, Emery,” I say, and turn to head for my place.
When I get inside, I toss my keys and wallet onto the tray on the counter and sigh. I’m trying to figure out why hanging out with a woman has never felt like that before. It was easy and fun, and I already want to do it again.
Shaking the thoughts away, I open the fridge and peer inside. I’m still fucking starving from that vegetarian dinner. It may work for Emery, but I need meat to sustain me. After making myself a sandwich, I sink down onto the couch and grab the remote. The TV may be playing in the background, but I can’t help but recount the cute little things Emery said and did tonight.
Fuck.
Roughly swallowing a bite of roast beef, I sit straight up in my chair. I realize, with stunned horror, that I like her. I like hanging out with her. I like her personality, her sass, the fact she has goals. The curve of her hips, her tight ass . . . and the fact that she took the time to put on earrings before our non-date.
I’d also like to bang the shit out of her, but I know that isn’t possible, both because of my vow to Hudson, and to Beth, but also because it’s not what Emery wants or needs. She needs a friend. And that’s what I’m going to be.
Setting my unfinished plate aside, I get up and head into the bathroom. I need a cold fucking shower. I need to knock this shit off. I’ve made a goal for myself, and I’m not going to fuck it up. Even if my dick is rock hard right now just thinking about her.
Quickly stripping down, I step under the spray of lukewarm water. It does nothing to quell my erection, especially since I know that Emery is just one floor below me. She’s probably changing into her pajamas, and my mind spins with the possibilities. Does she sleep in a matching shorts-and-tank set, or maybe just her panties and an old T-shirt, her beautiful tits straining against the softened fabric?
My hand finds my cock and I squeeze, trying to quiet the images in my brain. It’s no use. The way her round ass filled out those jeans, the hint of cleavage that peeked from her tank top, it’s been burned into my brain. Knowing I’m going to give in to temptation, I grab the bottle of body wash, squeeze a generous amount into my palm, and use the suds to stroke my cock up and down. A grunt pushes past my lips as my hand speeds up. My shaft feels like steel and my balls draw up closer to my body.
The images in my brain turn far more salacious . . . Emery naked and kneeling between my feet, her pink lips sucking on the head of my cock, her bent over my bed with her ass up nice and high so I can see her glistening pussy, me pounding into her, showing her what it’s like to be fucked by a man who knows what he’s doing.
As I pump my fist over the sensitive head of my cock, a strangled moan crawls up my throat and I come hard, sending semen jetting onto the tile below. As the water washes away the evidence of my lack of self-control, I take a deep gulp of air. Jacking off to thoughts of my friend isn’t normal. I need to lock this shit down. Right the fuck now. But as I towel off, I decide that if this is what I need to do to remain in control around her, so be it.
After my release, I feel a bit more disciplined, my head clearer, and I’m thankful for that. I put on a pair of sweatpants, and then head to the kitchen to grab my phone.
Sitting down on the edge of my bed, I send a text to Emery, inviting her to join me at my nephew’s soccer game tomorrow. I figure there’s no way I can bend her succulent ass over and fuck her in front of twenty four-year-olds. It’s safe, and I need to stick to safe activities. Ones where my cock won’t get me into trouble.
Because this friends-only thing? It fucking sucks.
Chapter Ten
Emery
I pull into one of the few spots left in the city park’s lot. Today has turned out lovely—all sapphire sky, golden sun, and best of all, a low-smog alert—and it seems like all of Los Angeles has come out to enjoy it.
Walking to the soccer field, I look around until I see Hayden waving from the bleachers. There’s a cute couple with him that must be his sister and her husband. What are their names again? I try to remember. Hayden mentioned them in his text. Beth and . . . Daniel? No, David.
Beth is sitting on the bottom row of steps with a princess no older than three conked out on her lap. It’s amazing what little kids can sleep through; despite all the children shrieking and adults laughing around her, this girl is out cold. I can see the family resemblance to both her mother and to Hayden—the same dark hair, the same high forehead, the same straight nose.
A slightly older boy clings to David, his free hand gripping a box of apple juice. His messy nut-brown hair makes him look more like his father. He looks up at me with huge blue-gray eyes. When I smile and wave back at him, he grins and hides his face in his father’s pant leg.
David chuckles and pats his son on the head. “He likes you.”
“Careful, Hayden,” Beth says with a smirk. “You’ve got competition.” She reaches out and takes my hand, giving it a warm shake.
Hayden’s eyes swing over to mine, and a warm shiver runs along my body. “You came.”
I nod. “Of course I did. It’s beautiful out today.”
He and Beth both look up at the sky, trying to figure out what I mean. It’s LA—every day is pretty much the same. I guess this Midwest girl isn’t used to that yet.
Noticing that his nephew is still hiding his face in David’s leg, Hayden squats down to the boy’s level. “Hey there, Austin. How’s my buddy? I invited my friend Emery to watch you play today.” The boy grunts and buries his face even more. “You want a high-five?” Hayden says, holding up his hand.
Giggling, Austin bats at it with his juice box, squirting sticky sugar water all over his uncle’s hand.
Hayden’s air of cheerful calm doesn’t diminish. “You excited to play today?”
Austin finally speaks up. “Yeah. I’m gonna soccer.”
“He cried on the way here,” Beth interjects. “He wanted to wear his dinosaur shirt, but we put him in his league uniform, so . . . you can guess.”
A stout man in a baseball cap walks onto the turf and blows his whistle. The chaos of parents and kids all around us spikes to a crescendo.
“Looks like it’s time to get on the field.” David bends down to take Austin’s hand. “Ready to go see your friends?”
“No,” Austin says.
“Come on, little dude. Don’t you want to—”
Austin screams so loudly and so suddenly that I jump. His sister squirms in Beth’s arms, still half-asleep.
David sighs. “Hayden, can you take him somewhere quiet? I have to get his bag from the car.”
“No problem.” Hayden scoops up the flailing Austin and walks off toward a nearby stand of trees.
When both men have left, Beth turns to me. “Sorry about that,” she says, stroking her daughter’s raven hair to soothe her. “I think he’s just overstimulated. He loves soccer, but sometimes all the people and noise and activity . . .” She makes a bzzt noise. “Blows a fuse.”
I shake my head with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. Life is tough when you’re a kid.”
“Heh . . . tell me about it. Hayden’s great with him, though. Which is a huge help. David and I didn’t get much sleep last night. Georgia kept waking up all night with some weird dream. Too much candy before bed.” Beth dips her head to indicate her daughter, who is already comatose on her lap again. Then she hesitates. “When Hayden mentioned he’d be bringing a girl . . . I gotta say, I didn’t expect you.”