Their hands linked above her head as he regained his breath.
Feeling his dick slide out of her, he reached to make sure the condom came out, too. With a groan, he rolled onto his back feeling totally spent. Gathering Emerson close, he tucked her under his arm, and she laid her head on his shoulder.
Neither of them said a word.
It felt like the moment after he’d finished a race, in the few minutes that followed the celebration. The mental silence and clarity that followed was something he’d always sought. Peace to a brain that always worked on overdrive.
“I feel like I should have said grace,” Emerson said.
Connor ran his hand through her hair, getting his fingers caught in the completely disheveled updo. “Grace?”
“You know, to be thankful for all the things I was about to receive.”
Connor laughed, the action jostling his now-aching body. He could do an Ironman, but sex on the condo floor seemed to have fucked with his posture.
“Are you really okay?” he asked, glancing down at her.
“I’ll probably be sore tomorrow in places I didn’t know about. But, yes. I loved every minute of what we just did.”
He pulled her tight. “I loved that it was you. You surprised me and turned me on more than I thought was possible. The image of you standing by the kitchen counter in just those fucking heels is likely going to haunt me at the most inappropriate moments for the rest of my life.”
“Knowing it was you gave me the confidence to do that.”
Connor’s heart squeezed at the thought of it. “We never really talked about preferences before tonight. About what you like sexually. And what I like. Perhaps we should do that.”
Emerson circled her fingers on his chest, then raised herself on one elbow. She probably wouldn’t appreciate him telling her that the lipstick she’d believed to be indestructible wasn’t. He thought it was cute.
“I don’t ever want to get hurt. Emotionally or physically. Name calling or pain. But this…you taking the lead the way you did tonight. I enjoyed this.”
He took her fingers in his hand and kissed them. “We’re on the same page there. I can’t imagine doing either of those things. I’m not big into role-play, like pretending I’m your patient and you’re my nurse…but I guess that’s fine because your idea of that is dressing like a Wookiee.”
Emerson snatched her fingers away and laughed. “I was a child.”
“A child with dubious tastes.”
Quiet blanketed the two of them again, and Emerson placed her head back on his shoulder. The feel of her body pressed up alongside his was more comforting than sexual now.
“I liked the way you spoke to me. It was hot. Not going to lie,” Emerson said, softly.
Connor smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Glad I could be of service. I liked the heels. Well, you in the heels with nothing else. Surprise me like that every now and then and I’ll be a happy man.”
“Noted. I’ll set a reminder in my calendar.”
She said it so primly he couldn’t help but laugh. He freed his arm from beneath her and stood. “We should go to bed before we pass out down here.” He offered Emerson his hand and helped her to her feet.
“I might have friction burns in places I probably shouldn’t, but I wouldn’t change it.” She blushed as she spoke. “Not sure I’ll be able to look at the rug in quite the same way again. Or the stools.”
They looked in the direction of the kitchen, where their clothes lay strewn around the island. “I don’t know,” Connor said with a laugh. “I think we should christen every piece of furniture that’ll take our weight.”
Emerson grinned and then yawned.
“Let’s get you into bed,” he said, leading her to his room. Once they were curled up under the sheets, her back pressed up against his chest, he kissed her softly. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she mumbled, telling him exactly what he’d hoped to hear.
Chapter Thirteen
“How are you doing now that you’re back?” Emerson asked Olivia as they walked to the benches outside of the distillery for a bracing mid-afternoon cup of coffee. The leaves had fallen and crunched beneath their feet. Connor was right, November had come in with a roar. It was like they’d skipped fall and gone straight from summer to winter.
“I’m tired in a good way,” Olivia replied. “But I’ve only begun to scratch the surface of what we need. I queued some social media posts to share over the next couple of weeks. But most of my time so far has been spent building the mother of all to-do lists.”
Emerson took a seat on the bench. “I’m going to find it hard to not remind you to take it easy. I know you said you don’t want mothering, but…”
Olivia dropped down onto the bench, pulling her light jacket closed. “I know you are. Since Mom died, you’ve been a mom to Jake and me as much as you’ve been a sister, and Dad let you. It wasn’t fair of him to let you take that on.”
It wasn’t fair of her to criticize their father, either. “He was busy. He needed someone to—”
“Yes, but it didn’t need to be you. You need to have a life outside of this. To see friends. To spend time with Connor. We’re old enough to handle our share, Em.”
The words hit Emerson in her chest. “When did you get so wise?”
“I’ve had time to think things through. And it’s always easier when it’s someone else’s problems. I get it. As for me, I’m only doing afternoons. And I know my own limits. I promise I’ll tell you if anything gets hard. The truth is, I’m enjoying being here. I wasn’t worried about coming back because I
