What The Heart Knows (27 page)

Her
fingers gripped the sides of the sink, her whole body tense, waiting.
She hated it for betraying her. She was hot and ready, every inch of
her aware of his body behind her.

She
heard him pull his zipper and then his knee was pushing between her
thighs, pushing them wider. His hand slid up her inner thigh,
stroking her slick heat for the barest of seconds before pulling
away. Then both his hands were on her hips, hard, sinking in
painfully as he shoved deep inside her.

Emily's
hand slammed down on the sink as her hips slammed into the counter,
letting out a strangled whimper. One of his hands went up toward the
base of her neck, slipping into her hair, making a fist in it, then
twisting it painfully, pulling her head to the side. His other hand
went to her mouth, his palm covering it, his fingers digging into her
cheekbone.

And
then he was slamming into her, deliberate, deep thrusts. All the way
in, pushing against her back wall, making her feel him as deeply as
possible before pulling almost all the way out. Pausing. Then shoving
deep back in.

It
was nothing like the other two times. The first time that had been
wild and needy, long overdue. The second time that had been slow and
soft and full of some kind of deeper meaning than just bodies
touching. This was rough. Punishing. This was pure, animalistic
hatefucking.

And
damn if her body wasn't enjoying every last second of it. She could
feel herself tightening around his hard cock, begging for more,
rushing fast toward a climax. His thrusts became harder, the hand in
her hair pulling roughly.

He
leaned forward, his breath hot on her neck as he bit into her
earlobe. “I'm not jealous of anyone,” he growled out as
he slammed inside of her wildly, each thrust making her go up on her
toes. “because I can have you any time I want.”

Emily
felt her body contract around his cock right at that moment, as if
proving his point. She let out a cry, muffled against his hand as he
thrust even harder. With one last thrust, he had her feet coming
completely off the ground, making her hips push forward, lifting up
into the sink with it's fierceness, her hands slipping and slamming
up against the window to keep herself from falling into it, she heard
his breath catch, his hand jerk against her face as he came hard and
fast.

Seconds
later, he was pulling out of her. Her feet fell back onto the ground
as she heard him zip back up and walk away. In the hall, his voice
light and unaffected he called. “Allie baby, how do you take
your coffee?”

Emily
reached down and hauled her panties and tights back up, settling her
dress into place, before putting her shaky hands back onto the
counter, trying to pretend she wasn't affected. Trying to put herself
back together as easily as he had.

She
took deep breaths, moving away from the counter, reaching and
grabbing coffee cups.

“Listen,”
Hananh's voice said, coming into the room. “my lady bits are
all kinds of messed up and it hurts to even walk,” she said,
coming up beside her “So you better be ready to tell me what
the hell is going on with you and James.”

Emily's
chin fell toward her chest, shaking her head. She turned her face
slightly toward Hannah, knowing there were tears fighting to stay in
her eyes.

“Oh,
Em,” Hannah said, looking crestfallen. She glanced out toward
the front room. “Go get us some half and half,” she said
suddenly. “out this back door. We need half and half for the
coffee,” she said at Emily's blank look.

Emily
nodded tightly, moving toward the back door. As she closed it behind
her, she could see Hannah inside the kitchen, grabbing the carton of
cream and pouring the obviously full contents down the drain. She
winked at Emily though the window.

Emily
practically ran to her car, getting into the front seat and pulling
down the street before parking in front of some random building and
breaking down.

There
was no good reason for it. She had enjoyed many hatefucking sessions
in the past. Some with people she had actually hated in that moment.
Dane had been involved more than once after particularly heated
arguments she swore he picked just because the angry sex was so
phenomenal. It wasn't the act.

It
was the feeling. The feeling that he was trying to get her out of his
system. That maybe if he fucked her hard enough, there would be
nothing left for him to discover. That he could be done with her.

And
she was pretty sure she was falling for the bastard.

She
wasn't the kind of girl who was raised on unrealistic fairy tales.
She wasn't the kind of woman who went searching for romance. For
happily ever afters. They didn't exist. People loved people. Then
betrayals set in. Dozens of small ones. Or one great, big, ugly one.
And then people moved on.

So
she skipped the whole middle part. She liked the meeting and the
newness. And then she rushed toward the end before it went south.
Which left her with mostly happy memories.

Falling
for Mr. Fancypants was unacceptable. It was foolish. And it was only
going to bring her unhappiness. It was better this way. It was better
that he wanted to fuck his feelings out. It was good that there was
that kind of closure.

She
looked at the clock on her stereo, noting the time, agreeing to let
herself to grieve for five minutes. Then she would wipe all the
evidence away, fix her makeup, go buy some half and half and walk
back into that house like nothing happened.

And
that was exactly what she did.

Twenty-Two

In
the end, she spent six days there, taking the baby in the late hours
of the night when Hannah and Elliott were bleary-eyed and exhausted.
Hannah had insisted she stay in the guest room, half because she knew
she could use the help but also half because she wanted to keep an
eye on her friend. A friend she had only seen cry a handful of times
in her life. And never over a guy.

Emily's
ear became fine tuned. Able to know the sound of James' car engine
long before he parked and rushed up the walkway to see his nephew.
She always had more than enough time to run up the stairs and lock
herself in the spacious spare room before he was in the front door.

He
knew she was there. She knew he knew she was there. And she knew he
thought he had won because she was hiding from him. But sometimes you
had to sacrifice your pride to save you pain.

In
the end, she drove back to Stars Landing feeling worn out and oddly
disconnected from her own body.

“I'm
going home,” Dev said the second she walked through the front
door. At her surprised look, he held up his hands. “Yes. Hi.
Welcome back. Blah blah blah. I am going home. Twelve hour shifts for
six days is pushing it, woman. In fact, I am taking a long weekend.”

“Okay,
sure, fine,” Emily grumbled, grabbing the mail off the desk and
walking down the hallway.

She
went to her room, dropping her bags onto the floor, and falling into
the bed.

There
was a knock half an hour later, the door opening without waiting for
a reply. “How was the little squirt?” Dane asked, leaning
against the doorjamb.

“Isaac,”
she said, staring at the ceiling. “he's good. He has a head
full of dark hair like his parents and his dad's ice blue eyes.”

“I've
never seen this Elliott guy, but if that kid turns out half as
attractive as Hannah, he's going to break a lot of hearts.”

“Jealous
he might take some of your underwear modeling gigs?”

Dane
smirked for a moment. “What's up with you?”

“Nothing,”
she said, not caring how unconvincing she sounded.

“Saw
him, did ya?”

“He
hatefucked me in Hannah's kitchen,” she said.

“Did
he?” Dane asked sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Didn't
think rich guys had that kinda game.”

“I
don't think money has anything to do with his dick.”

“So
what now?”

“Now
nothing,” Emily shrugged. “It's over over now. Time to
move on.”

Dane
nodded, then quickly jumped on top of her, pinning her to the bed,
smiling a goofy smile she wasn't used to seeing on his face. “Well,
in that case, I am willing to offer up my cock any time you need it.”

“Pity
fucks?” she asked, rolling her eyes.

“I
was thinking of it more as a public service. No one wants you to mope
around town for a year nursing your broken heart.”

“My
heart isn't broken,” she said, pushing him off of her and
sitting up.

“Okay,
Red,” he said, sitting next to her, bumping his shoulder
against hers. “whatever you say.”

But
it wasn't long before his prediction came true. She slipped easily
into heartbreak, sinking deep inside herself. She slept in late. She
dressed in baggy sweat clothes, sitting at the front desk eating
endless bags of chips,
huge piles of desserts from Lena, and multiple servings of everything
that Meggie cooked.

She
stopped stripping the beds for the maids. And running food for the
servers. The only thing real work she continued to do was take care
of the horses. She compiled all the employee hour sheets and sent
them to EM Corp for them to deal with. She ripped up her own
paychecks from them.

Devon
seemed to step up as she stepped down, handling disputes. Taking care
of all of the scheduling. Making appointments. Decorating for the
holidays.

If
she were paying any kind of attention, she would have been impressed.

“You
know your staff is starting to call you 'Fuck-It Emily',” Dane
told her when he came in from the bar late one night to find Emily
propped up at the front desk eating popcorn and watching a show on
the work computer.

“Well,
they're not wrong,” Emily shrugged. “This place doesn't
belong to me anymore. So fuck it.”

“Is
the plan for it to fail so the boss man loses?” he asked,
quirking a brow up. “because the man has millions of dollars
and dozens of companies. I really don't think he cares about this
inn.”

“He
cares because he needs to beat me. If the inn goes under, he loses
his control of me.”

“And
you lose the only thing you have ever cared about,” Dane added.

“Eh,”
she shrugged. “pretty soon it wont even have a hint of Marion
left anymore anyway. So what does it matter?”

“What
would you do if you didn't work here?”

Emily
shrugged a shoulder. “Doesn't matter. I could go work at the
lodge. Dev and Aria would pull some strings for me.”

“So
that's it?” Dane asked, sounding irritated. “You just
give up? On everything? On him? On your life?”

“Look,
I know you're like on a head trip because you're getting your shit
together finally, but that doesn't give you the right to talk down to
me because I don't have it together anymore.”

“Just...
snap out of it,” Dane said, listening as the phone rang. And
rang. And rang. Emily didn't even bother to reach for it. It stopped
and then started up again. With a sigh, he grabbed it. “Stars
Landing Inn,” he barked into the receiver, looking at Emily
with something she could only describe as disgust. But then the look
lifted, a smirk on his lips, a lifted brow. “Yup, hold on,”
he said, holding the phone out toward her. When she shook her head,
he shoved it into her hand. “Answer the fucking phone,”
he said, walking toward the sitting room.

Emily
sighed, an overly dramatic sound, bringing the phone up to her ear.
“Yeah?”

“Did
you hire a new employee without consulting me?” James' voice
asked through the phone.

She
almost fell out of her chair. Literally. Her body jumped backward,
making the chair topple. Her arm flew out toward the desk, righting
herself. Everything she had been numbing with mindless television and
fattening snacks and tooth-rotting desserts, everything she had been
trying to avoid came flooding back.

There
was a tightening in her chest, something sharp and uncomfortable. She
brought a hand up to her throat as if she could rub away the
sensation like you can work out a knot in a muscle.

Too much time had passed. She needed to say something. “No.”
There. At least she didn't sound like an idiot. There was silence on
his end of the phone and she closed her eyes, rubbing at the headache
forming behind her them. “What do you want, James?”