The Righteous and The Wicked (22 page)

“Do you like poetry?” he asks her.

“Yes . . . yes . . . I do.” She’s ablaze and he’s fueling her with the view of his body and his sultry words.

Eric finds his power over her arousing. “Oh, you do, do you? I was reading just before you came over. Just before I took off your clothes . . . and chained you to my bed . . . and tasted you . . . and touched you. Would you like me to read to you right now?”

She is wet and tormented with her fever for him. He’s so sexy, and good, and evil, and hot, and sweet. She’s damp with sweat, and handcuffed to his bed, and aching to feel him inside her . . . and instead of fucking her and making her come, he wants to read her a poem. If this is his way of keeping himself together, she will abide.

“Yes, Eric. Please, read to me.”

He smiles, and his tongue darts out to moisten his lips. She watches his chest move as he breathes and reads:

“I am not yours, not lost in you,

Not lost, although I long to be

Lost as a candle lit at noon,

Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

You love me, and I find you still

A spirit beautiful and bright,

Yet I am I, who long to be

Lost as a light is lost in light.

Oh plunge me deep in love—put out

My senses, leave me deaf and blind,

Swept by the tempest of your love,

A taper in a rushing wind.”
⁵

The words slow Emma’s blood and float into her heart. She stares into the stormy blue of Eric’s eyes and her own eyes water with the depth of her need and the overwhelming emotion she feels for him.

He tosses the book and kneels on the bed. Having taken his time, the true test will begin; to remain himself once he is buried inside her will be an enormous feat. He puts on a condom and hovers just above her body, his arms at either side of her head.

“
Você é única para mim
.”
⁶
He slides his fingers down her arms from where they’re bound, all the way to her ribs.

His touch leaves shimmering trails on her skin and Emma begins to quiver. She cannot stand another moment of this delicious misery. “Please . . .”

His hard cock presses against her wet lips, right at the center of her, right where she aches. He pushes himself inside, and he kisses her at the same instant. He fills her everywhere, and she is greedy. She wants to touch him, but she cannot. He moves inside her in a perfect, even rhythm, and he never breaks the kiss. She wants to scream, but she’s suffocated by his tongue and his body. She’s drowning in him. She luxuriates in the intense feeling of his body pressing into hers in the dim light. She moans against him, and hears a click. He has released her wrists, and she wastes no time. She touches his bristly face, his rippled arms and back, his firm ass that moves against her. Then she grabs his hair and deepens their kiss.

Eric is giving her just what she wants, and he feels every sensation. He relishes her touch, her taste, her smell, and the pleasure she gives him. The deep, dark cavern he usually descends into isn’t there. He kisses her harder, ravenous and unrelenting; he’s dying to consume her. “This is me you’re with, I’m here, I’m with you.”

She bucks against him, and he rises up to watch his cock moving in and out of her. The erotic sight pushes him toward his release. To delay it, he leans back and pulls her body into his lap, and kisses and sucks at her neck and breasts as she rides him. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and lifts her hips off his, setting her rhythm. He groans and grips her ass, then pulls on her hair until her back arches. He adores her breasts, and slides his fingers down to her backside.

“I never want anyone else to touch me. Only you,” she says.

He kisses her, and lays her head on the pillow. Her legs wrap around him, and he thrusts so, so deep inside her.

“Ahh, oh my God . . .” She’s reaching a peak. Something needs to break free. Her skin feels as though it’s humming and when he moans against her chest, she comes so hard she digs her nails into his shoulders.

When he knows she has found her release, Eric grips the headboard and pushes inside her with vigor. The darkness is at bay, but it’s riding up behind him like an avalanche. “Fuck, oh, fuck . . .
eu amo ficar assim com você
.”
⁷
He pulses against her submissive body.

Grunts and profanity fall from his lips. Emma pulls his face down to hers, and she kisses him as he erupts. Blinded by the rapture, they collapse against each other and the room is quiet. For Emma, this was a soothing relief to a powerful burning ache. It quenched the lust and need that she felt, and still feels for him. Cool water on her raging fire, and yet she still craves more.

For Eric, this was a long awaited blessing, an answered prayer.

Chapter Twenty-One

Emma and Eric lie listening as crickets sing to the moon and to each other. Their limbs are tangled together, her body anchored to his. She wants to stay with him, but she’s afraid he doesn’t want her to. Being intimate isn’t something that comes easy to Eric, but after the way he was with her tonight, she’s beginning to wonder if he wants this to be different.

“Should I leave?” She braces for his answer.

His arm snakes around her and he holds her body to his, kissing the space between her jaw and her ear. His breath tickles her and she giggles.

“Emma, I want you to stay. I want to wake up right here, next to you. Please, don’t leave.”

She closes her eyes, feeling relieved and content after hearing words she hoped he would say. His breathing becomes even against her and she knows he has fallen asleep. She rubs her fingers along his arms, anticipating and dreading their absence. She misses him before he’s even gone.

A white car creeps down Eric and Emma’s street, like a prowler in the night, waiting and watching. It parks on the shoulder of the dirt road and the envious driver lights a cigarette, staring at the silver trailer, wondering what’s going on inside.

“Abby, I have to tell you something, but I need you to keep it between us okay?” Danielle whispers into her phone.

“Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s about Emma. I’m worried about her.”

“Why?”

“I saw her with someone last night.” Danielle waits to hear shock in Abby’s voice, but she doesn’t.

“You mean Eric?”

“Wait. You
know
him? How do you know him?”

“No, I mean, I’ve never met him, but
he’s
the guy Emma’s been telling us about. I just know they’re neighbors . . . and that she slept with him.”

“What?
Eric
is Sexy Neighbor Guy? She had
sex
with him?”

“Yes, but I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.” Abby winces at her indiscretion.

“Abby, I
know
him.”

“How?”

“He’s Sean’s best man.” Danielle tucks her phone into the crook of her neck as she whispers and tries not to wake her sleeping fiancé.

“You’re fucking kidding me! That’s crazy. Emma doesn’t know you know him? And Eric doesn’t know that you know Emma?”

“Yes, and there’s something else . . .”

“What?”

“There may be some
things
Emma doesn’t know about him.”

“Well, she said he was strange.”

“That’s just it. Every time I see him, he looks at me . . . I mean, he knows I’m engaged to his friend, but he still just . . . it’s creepy, Abby. He looks at me like he
wants
me.”

“Are you sure you’re not imagining that?”

“I’m not. And that’s not all. Sean told me that Eric got into trouble with the last couple he worked for—he had an affair with the wife of some wealthy man. The man tried to
kill
him. Eric barely got away. That’s why he moved here. I’m worried for Emma—she’s had enough shit in her life. I feel like we need to warn her about this guy. I can’t just stand by and let her get hurt.”

“You do realize that she’s an adult, right?” Abby doubts smitten Emma will be convinced Eric is wrong for her.

“Yes, but she’s also our friend. We can’t just sit back and let this happen. What if we set her up with someone? Eric’s not her boyfriend, right?”

“She’s still married, you know, Danni. I don’t think she considers what they’re doing to be a
relationship
 . . . or maybe it’s just Eric who feels that way.”

“Does Jeff have any hot friends?”

“Actually, he does. There’s this guy, Ian, that he hangs out with sometimes. He’s single and he’s not bad looking. Kind of arrogant, but most of his lawyer friends are.”

“Well, I’ll just invite him to the engagement party and seat him next to Emma. There’s no harm in that, right?”

“No . . .” Abby hesitates.

“What?”

“I don’t know. Forget it.”

“Come on, Abby. What is it?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t try to interfere. I think Eric is making her happy. It’s not our place to get involved. She could have a future with this guy.”

“No. She can’t, Abby. He told us he’s not planning to stay in Pine Lake.”

“What?”

“He’s
using
her. He’s gonna build that house, sell it, and move on. That’s what he does. He builds, and sells, and fucks up lives!”

“He’s going to break Emma’s heart . . .”

“Yes.” Danielle answers. “He is.”

Lost in soft warmth and sunshine, Emma opens her eyes and runs her hand along the bed where Eric should be, but is not.

She sits up in a panic. “Eric?”

No answer.

She leaves the empty bed with his sheet held over her breasts and she peers out the window of his trailer. His Jeep is gone. She shakes her head from side to side and scans Eric’s small living space. He left no note.

There must be an explanation, but the devastation she felt the morning that Aaron left her creeps like a shadow across her heart. Being abandoned is a trauma she can’t live through again. She panics, dresses, and runs up the path and across her yard in nothing but her nightgown. Every movement reminds her of last night, her muscles sore from their tryst. She hears her phone ringing and bolts into the kitchen to pick it up.

“Eric?”

“No. It’s Danielle.”

“Oh, hey. What’s up? How are you?”

“I’m fine. I saw you at the carnival last night.”

“You did? I didn’t see you.” Emma would rather not be having this inane conversation right now. She wants to know where Eric went.

“I saw that you were with someone and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Yes, that’s Eric, my . . . neighbor,” Emma says delicately.

“Emma, I have to tell you something . . .”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Danni, I have to go. Someone’s at the door. I’ll call you back.”