Scared of Forever (Scared #2) Page 7

  “So, are you staying around for a while?” I politely pry, realizing that I quite enjoy being in Tyler’s company. As far as future brother-in-laws go, I think I may have hit the jackpot.

  “A few more weeks,” he says, hitching his leg up to rest his chin on. He’s so different from Blake. They both are gorgeous, but in opposite ways. Blake is organized, intent on planning for forever, sure about what he wants; driven. Tyler is carefree, and doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who plans for what to do the next day, let alone the distant future. He’s impulsive and kind, both evident by the sweet fire in his eyes as he looks out towards the beach.

  I shake myself out of the thought pattern. It’s not appropriate for me to entertain such a romantic comparison of the Carson brothers, even mentally.

  “I have a job in Rio, at Carnivale,” he says.

  “Rio de Janiero?” I ask, amazed.

  “Uh huh. It should be fun,” he says with a sly grin.

  “What’s not to love about Rio at Carnivale? I hear it’s full of booze, parties, bright colors, and thongs,” I laugh. “Just the scene for a single guy.” I feel a strange pang of jealousy as the words leave my mouth, and I ponder the thought further. How completely ludicrous am I?

  “Believe it or not, this is my first urban job, ever,” he says seriously. “The jobs I have had so far have been very isolated, most really exotic. The last job I took was in the Serengeti. I lived in a tent for a large part of it, with bottled water, no bathrooms, and no doors. And yeah, most places I go have got their fair share of hot women. I’m never in one place long enough to enjoy anything, though.”

  “I don’t mean to change the subject to something so much less pleasant,” I say tentatively. “But can I ask you something?”

  “As long as it has nothing to do with Blake or my mother,” he says, meeting my eyes.

  I look down awkwardly. “It does, actually,” I say quietly.

  Tyler lets out a sigh. “I don’t have a very good relationship with either of them. So you need to understand that it’s almost impossible for me to be impartial with my answers. But I’ll answer almost anything you ask, because I think you deserve to know as much as possible about the family you are marrying into.”

  “What happened with you and Blake?” I say simply.

  “Well, Blake has hated me ever since high school, when I may or may not have told the entire school that his nickname was BJ, standing for Blake John. Of course I extended the nickname to blowjob, in my adolescent level of sophistication. And his first girlfriend, Amy, dumped him because she said it was embarrassing to date a boy whose name was synonymous with such a gross sexual act. In teenager speak, of course.” Tyler laughs, shaking his head at the memory.

  I punch him lightly in the shoulder. “That’s mean. You were a bully,” I scold. “Be serious.”

  “We had a fight over a girl,” Tyler says, looking down at the weathered wood.

  “Must have been some girl,” I say quietly.

  “For me, not really. Her name is Aria. Her and I met at a slam poetry reading about two years ago, and kind of hooked up. She’s a tattoo artist. That’s how I got most of these.” Tyler leans forward and pulls up his shirt, revealing a series of intricate tattoos down the right side of his back and around his right side.

  I briefly glance at the tattoos, but my eyes wander to the defined muscles in Tyler’s back. The way his torso is broad and strong at the top, and then tapers down towards his midsection. The muscles across his shoulder blades flex beautifully as his arms hold his shirt up. I can’t look away. I try my damndest, but to no avail. It takes all of my will to keep my hand from reaching up to touch his beautiful body. Run my fingers across the ridges. Memorize each crevice and tiny imperfection.

  He drops his shirt and turns to face me again. I snap my jaw shut just in time. Hopefully there are no errant drops of drool around my lips.

  “Blake saw the tats one day and wanted one, so I took him to the shop where Aria worked. Aria is beautiful, in a dark and enchanting way. She has a lot of tattoos, obviously, and piercings too, but she is beautiful. The minute Blake saw her, he was hooked. I saw the look in his eyes.”

  Tyler adjusts his position. “So, I thought Aria and I had a thing. Nothing serious. But in reality, the thing was actually between her and Blake. One night, I had said I’d swing by her place to hang out. I opened the door with the spare key, but it turns out that Aria already had plans with my brother.”

  “Were you angry?” I ask.

  He takes a breath. “I didn’t really care. I mean, her and I were not at all serious, like I said. But Blake did. He came at me in a rage. Told me to stay the fuck away from his girl. He lost it. I fought him back. We both ended up in the ER needing stitches. We haven’t really spoken since,” Tyler says absently, as if lost in the memory.

  “Blake hasn’t ever mentioned that girl to me before. Then again, Blake had never mentioned you, either. Or much of anything that happened before me,” I say, a pang of jealousy rising in my chest. Blake had obviously really cared for that girl. That explains why seeing me with Tyler the other day had affected him the way it did.

  “What happened to them?” I ask, feeling stupid for being so obviously insecure about this subject.

  “I don’t know,” Tyler shrugs. “I know Eliza hated her, and Blake always does what our mother says, so—I guess he didn’t care about her as much as I thought he did. I mean, he still has his money.”

  I look out distractedly at the ocean ahead. The Blake I am engaged to is slowly disappearing in my mind, and being replaced by a complete and utter stranger. A stranger I don’t think I want to know.

  “Hey,” Tyler says softly, laying a hand on mine. “I’m sure that you have nothing to worry about. Blake has you. He’d be a fool to look anywhere else.” For a moment he looks directly at me. Into me. His eyes are so filled with warmth and concern. For a moment, I can’t steal mine away. We stay like that, transfixed to that one moment in time. Until I avert my eyes guiltily away.

  “We probably should head back soon,” I say. Between the amazing scenery, the fantastic company, and the gorgeous specimen of man a half a foot away in this isolated part of the world, this has all the makings of a disaster waiting to happen. “But before that, can we walk along the beach?” I don’t really want this day to end. But the fact is that I still have a fiancée, soon to be on his way home from work. That’s where my commitment lays. Tyler and I walk down the path, past the makeshift fence, onto the softer, moist sand. The sea breeze sends damp particles of stray sand stinging against my bare arms.

  The sun has moved much closer to the edge of the horizon now, the water ahead sparkling with beautiful iridescence in its presence. Tyler puts an arm around my shoulder, very platonically, upon seeing me shiver. It was platonic.

  Until he kissed me.

  Chapter 9:

  Blake

  I planned on being home sooner. I had actually worked late today. Today it was the truth, not an embellishment or excuse. I had, however, spent the last hour on the phone with Aria, trying to make peace. Finally, I had to promise to see her soon, and when I was satisfied that she still loved me, I ended the call. It’s amazing how the two women I’m caught between are so completely different. I consider, on the way home, if I can really see myself spending the rest of my life with Aria, who is so volatile, so independent and self-assured.

  Then there’s Emily, who’s not obstructive, easy going, and not at all argumentative. Forever would be much more pleasant if I spent it with Emily. I decide that I’m going to consciously try to end things with Aria and focus on Emily. But not today. Not until I’m ready. If I’ll ever be ready?

  Arriving home, I see Tyler’s Jeep and motorbike both parked in their spaces, which can only mean that the asshole’s still here. When the fuck is he going to fly away already?

  When I walk in the door, Emily is laying across the chaise in the living room, reading a book. Placing my keys on the hook, I w
alk over and kiss her on her forehead. She looks startled, almost skittish. That’s new. “Hi,” I say softly. “Everything okay?”

  “Better, now that you’re home.” She says, pulling me forward and bringing her lips crashing over mine, hard and hungry. I wonder briefly where this sexual ferocity is coming from. But there is no way I plan on arguing or refusing it.

  Emily turns her body to face me, eyes level with my crotch. I straighten upright as she quickly undoes my belt buckle. Wordlessly. She slips my pants to my ankles. My thighs tense in anticipation. The thought does cross my mind, that since I’ve walked in, she has avoided my eyes completely.

  A new thought flashes through my mind. I used to do that. When I came home to Emily after seeing Aria. The guilt would cause me to avert my eyes habitually. The shame wouldn’t allow me to look at her directly. I was fearful that she would see straight through my lies. But I brush the notion aside. This is Emily, my Emily. She’s not an adulterer. Not a cheater. Not like me.

  She takes me into her mouth in one perfectly executed, fluid movement. Deep. My back arches in response, and a guttural moan escapes me. I grab Emily’s head and push her mouth deeper and harder against me. I want to fill her mouth till she can’t take anymore. Her hands clasp my rock solid shaft and slide up and down leisurely. Hard, intent, but also with such tenderness and affection. She leans back. My dick feels cold in the absence of Emily’s warm mouth. I kick my pants away from my ankles and walk around the lounge to my beautiful, waiting fiancée.

  The long silk robe she’s wearing slides, as if on cue to the side, revealing, well, nothing. Nothing except bare, beautiful skin. Bare, beautifully perky breasts. Bare, beautiful thighs. All mine, on display for me alone to enjoy. The lust rising within me, I want Emily, and my need for her consumes me. I lean in to her, pinning her arms on both sides of her head with mine.

  She manages to writhe against me and free her arm. All the while, her eyes don’t leave mine. Pure defiance. I’m shocked when she pulls me down and I land with an ungraceful thud against the chaise. In less than a millisecond, Emily climbs on top of me, pulling my arms so they grip tightly around her waist.

  Emily grinds against me, fiercely, relentlessly. I lean forward and take a nipple into my mouth. She moans louder and flings her body back, now rising and falling onto my dick with her hands on my knees, her nails digging into the skin. My own hands dig into the flesh of her ass. I’m so close; she’s so close. Her screams are so fucking loud. I place a hand over her mouth to quiet her, her moans and screams interchanging in synchronicity. Emily doesn’t want to be told to be quiet. Not tonight. She leans forwards and crashes her lips against me. “Fuck me,” she whispers the command.

  I pull her off of me and flip her, face down onto the couch. My lips find her neck, leaving hard, ferocious kisses in my wake. I enter her from behind. She screams, muffled by the pillow. For a moment I think I may have hurt her. But I can’t stop. My dick pounds into her, harder with each merciless thrust, my chest pressed hard against her back. I grab her by the hair and pull her head up, kissing her as I come, and then she comes. And the warmth and throbbing are blissful. And we lay there, just like that, breathless, spent. Exhausted.

  Eventually, I manage to muster the energy to raise myself from Emily. She winces as she stands. “Did I hurt you?” I ask, genuinely concerned.

  “It’s a good pain,” she smiles and kisses me, softly and deeply, before retreating to the bathroom to, I presume, jump in the shower.

  I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and sit on the chaise. My mind is blown. Emily was always my good girl. But tonight, she fucked me like an absolute freak. Tonight she fucked me with more wild abandon than even Aria does. I’m so fucking confused.

  I think I’m overthinking things. I think I just might have developed a guilty conscience. Emily was my marriage for the sake of convenience. And I love her. But Aria is my soul mate, and she is irreplaceable. It all works for me. If only I can keep my own fucking guilt from turning this whole thing inside out.

  Emily walks out of the shower a few minutes later and sits down next to me. “Are you going to put pants on?” she teases.

  “Eventually,” I smile. “I’m a little exhausted.”

  “You’ve had a long day,” she says sympathetically. “Want a massage?”

  “Of what?” I laugh. “If it’s this, then I may need a longer recovery,” I say, pointing to my dick.

  “Your back, dummy,” she laughs.

  I lay on my stomach and Emily straddles my back, her soft and lean fingers kneading purposefully into the muscles. She rakes her nails down the back of my neck, and sends delicious shivers coursing through my body. “Em?” I ask. “What was that all about? I mean you’ve never been—like that.”

  “Hmmm,” she says, concentrating on her task.

  “Not that I’m complaining!” I add quickly.

  “I just missed you,” Emily replies, her voice rising in an awkward way. I’ve never heard that tone before. It unnerves me.

  She lays down flat against my back. I can feel her breathing as she runs a hand through my hair. I can’t imagine being anywhere else right now. Still, my mind drifts to Aria. And I picture her alone. And I hate that thought.

  Emily sits up and I follow, pulling her head to rest on my shoulder and wrapping an arm around her. She nestles in closer to me.

  “Blake?” she says softly. “What happened to make you hate your brother so much?”

  I consider the strangeness of the question. What exactly has my brother been telling her? “It was something minor that just got out of control.”

  “What happened, though?” she persists.

  “He smashed my first car, we fought about it, and never really made up,” I say confidently.

  Emily is silent for a few moments. “Seems a stupid reason to be so angry at each other,” she finally replies. “I mean, your family can buy another car like the rest of us buy cheeseburgers.”

  “Yeah, well, siblings fight over dumb shit. It’s what happens when you have someone permanently invading your space,” I say. “Has Tyler been talking to you?”

  “No,” she replies simply. “I just realized that I don’t know very much about who you were before we met.”

  “Would that change how you feel about me now?” I ask nervously.

  “I don’t think so,” she replies. “Unless it was something unforgiveable.”

  “You’d really leave me?” I ask.

  “No, I’m not saying that,” Emily defends. “I’m just saying that if there was something huge that happened before in your past, I’d expect you to tell me about it. And you would, right?”

  “Baby, there is nothing to tell,” I say, leaning forward and kissing her softly. “I forgot to mention, we have a charity dinner next Saturday. My mother’s a guest speaker, so we kind of have to go.”

  “Sure,” Emily says and stands shortly after to turn the kettle on. From my seat, I can see her standing in front of the mirrored splash back. She traces a line gently over her lips. Even from here, I can see the small smile that forms on her lips and the faraway look she has in her eye. It’s a far cry from the game of twenty questions we played a few minutes ago. She looks lost. Lost in a blissful memory.

  Chapter 10:

  Emily

  The following few days drag by mundanely. Blake and I spend Sunday curled up in front of the TV. On Monday, I go to work as usual. Tuesday passes by exactly the same way. By Wednesday, I’m wondering why I haven’t run into Tyler lately. A few days ago, every time I turned around, he was there. I know he’s still in his apartment. I see the light filter in from the crack below the door when I come home. Not that I’m looking! Or counting down the days or hours or anything.

  The last time I saw him was the day we went to the Hamptons together. The day he kissed me. The day everything became so awkward. He had apologized profusely for the kiss. I had dismissed it as quickly as it had happened, because really, I didn’t know what else to
do. The ride home from the Hamptons had been torture. Two hours of awkward energy and silence. The last and only words I had said to him were to thank him for the day, and goodbye.

  But that kissed had stayed with me. Not only was it eating away at my conscience because it was so wrong, but also because when Tyler kissed me, the waves, the wind, the sun’s glimmer on the water, had all stopped. Ceased to exist. For the briefest moment, I was filled with this feeling that I had never ever experienced before. Tyler’s lips against mine. Passionate and purposeful. As if he had managed to delve right down into the depths of my very soul. My body had screamed in response. I had let the kiss last. Needed to let the moment linger. I hadn’t stopped it or pulled away. Something that felt so right, bred from something so wrong.

  As I’m locking the apartment door, I hear the ding of the elevator, and barrel straight into Tyler as I turn. “Oh my God!” I yelp, clutching at my chest.

  “Nope, just me,” Tyler grins widely, single dimple and all.

  “I’m really sorry,” I say, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks, knowing that I must be blushing furiously. I’m suddenly incredibly embarrassed and desperate to get out of there. I sidestep him and walk towards the elevator.

  “Emily, wait!” Tyler calls after me. He looks amazing. Sweaty and glowing from his morning jog. I don’t want to turn around. Not until I return my face to a color that does not resemble a beet. I breathe, and count, and finally turn.

  “Yeah?” I say casually.

  “Can things just not be awkward between us? I know what happened on Saturday was, well, it was what it was. But I thought we could at least try and move past it. I like your company,” he says, almost pleadingly.