Fever Dream (Emerald Lake, #1)(97)

With a deep breath, I push the screen door open and step inside. I’m greeted by the open living space, vaulted ceilings, and Emmett.

Emmett twisting the cap off a water bottle. Tendons in his arms flexing. Veins in his hand bulging. Agitation lining his every movement.

And then his eyes find mine, searing me to the spot.

“What did that water bottle ever do to you?”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes a long swig of water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he continues to stare at me.

When he pulls the bottle down, he drags the back of his hand over his mouth, and it reminds me of the way he looks up at me from between my thighs.

Thighs that clench as he shrugs.

“Nothing. Other than witness the biggest sham of my life.” The plastic crinkles under his too-tight grip. “They’re still pushing the whole Evelyn thing so damn hard. Enjoy each other? God. Read the fucking room, Teri.”

“So you’re in a mood?”

His shoulders heave on an exhausted sigh. “I’m just so tired, Jules. It’s tearing me up having to lie about… this.”

My brows shoot up as my body moves toward him on instinct, but then I remember where I am. There are crew members crawling all over the place. Hell, Richard is in his trailer just down the driveway, which means he could show up any time.

So I turn, heading for the hallway, hoping he’ll follow me.

Because I hate seeing him all torn up like this.

I glance over my shoulder and walk down the long hallway that leads to multiple contestant rooms. One is full of furniture, and another has recording equipment.

“Where are you going?”

He follows.

I hear his steps behind me as he closes the distance between us, a shiver racing down my spine. Knowing that he followed me. That he can’t help himself.

It’s power. And it’s intoxicating.

“To show you something,” I reply, before turning around, grabbing his hand, and yanking him into an empty room.

Jada’s empty room. But I believe in my heart that Jada would understand what I’m doing here.

I have to believe that a woman who unleashes her full artistic talent to paint dick-toes for a fellow contestant would support me in this moment.

Jada would understand.

“What are you—” I cut him off when I click the door shut and shove him against the wall. He lands with a light oof sound before finishing breathlessly, “Doing?”

“Turning that frown upside down,” I whisper, not missing a beat as I drop to my knees in front of him and frantically tug at the waistband of his shorts. “Can’t send you on a date with another woman looking like you’re heading to the gallows.”

“It feels like I—”

Shorts and boxers tugged down, I press a soft kiss to his upper thigh. Distracting him. Catching him up to what we’re doing here.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” he says, but his hand strokes my hair, his fingertips digging in just slightly at the back of my skull, encouraging me. His cock thickens, and I lick my lips.

Shouldn’t is simply not part of my vocabulary right now.

“Emmett, shut up and lock the door. I only have ten minutes.”

My palm slides over his dick as I trail my tongue up, kissing, grazing my teeth across his skin until he sighs in pleasure. A modicum of tension leaves his body, and from the corner of my eye, I see him reach over and turn the small lock.

“Good,” I murmur, then I lick just beside his cock. A tease, just enough that his length straightens and bobs.

“Julia.” His voice is raspy. “What I said out there…”

I fondle his balls and lick the other side, digging my teeth in just below his hip bone. He bucks toward me, and I get more turned on by the way his grip changes in my hair. It’s gone from tentative, to eager, to desperate.

“I know.”

I settle back on my haunches and make a show of looking up at him as I grip his length at the base and hold my mouth open. Wanting him to watch me take him. To hold my gaze as I do.

A needy shudder racks his body. A tendon in his jaw flicks. He’s on a precipice, torn between frustration and desire.

“I meant it about…” He trails off, eyes searching mine. I can see that he wants to say it. Wants to tell me. But I also understand him. This is a big revelation.

But here? Now? Under these circumstances? None of it feels quite right.

Still, I know. We both do. Which is why I just grin at him and say, “Why do you think I’m so desperate to get your cock in my mouth?”

Tongue flat, I lick the tip and his eyes go hooded. “Jules.”

His fingers curl, tugging my hair.

I lick again, this time tasting the salty flavor of his pre-cum.

“Jules.” His head tips back against the wall, hands pulling me closer. He looks like a fucking Greek god above me, sculpted by a master. I could stare at him all day long. Lounge in his arms. Listen to him breathe.

Unfortunately for me, we currently have about seven minutes.

I push up so that I’m even with his waist and try to take his full length in one go, swallowing at the end to keep from gagging.

He whimpers, his thumb tracing the shell of my ear with aching tenderness.

That one sound—that one touch—is all the proof I need of what he said earlier. And the knowing makes me want to take my time. Savor him. Watch his every expression as I pull him apart, thread by thread.