Just Breathe Trilogy Box Set (111 page)

“What the . . . ?” I exclaim as Joe tethers my arms to the sides of my head.

His mouth consumes three fingers on my left hand, groaning satisfaction when he tastes me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, now irritated.

“Stopping you,” he answers.

“I see that. Why?” I press.

“You’re not allow to reach climax,” he directs.

“It’s not my fault that you aren’t willing to assist,” I charge.

“I am willing to assist,” he laughs. “Once you pick a name.”

“No,” I counter, rubbing my groin up against him. I huff frustration when I’m not able to get his body on an angle that could lead me to orgasm.

“It’s not hard, really,” Joe comments.

“Yes, it is,” I argue. “I can feel how hard you are.”

“Not that, silly,” he says, kissing me on the nose. “I mean picking a pet name for me.”

My eyes roll as I finally understand that he’s not going to let up. “You know I’ll just wait until you fall asleep,” I present.

“I’ll handcuff you before I go to bed,” he returns.

“Seriously?!”

“Yes,” he replies sounding very amused. “Seriously. Come on, Emma. You can do it.”

I refrain from commenting. It’s not that I can’t, I know that. It’s a matter of feeling weird — stupid.

“You’ve used names with Jared, Nathan and Maggie before,” Joe reminds. “They call you
Kitten
and I’ve heard you call them
sweetie
. And, you called Jade
monkey
at the party.”

“That’s different,” I counter.

“No, it isn’t,” he laughs.

“Yes, it is,” I reply.

“How is it different?” he explores.

“Because,” I answer.

“Because why?”

“It’s just different,” I say.

“How about honey? Baby? Babe?” Joe begins. “Or, handsome . . . I like that one. Or, snuggle bunny . . . .”
“What?” I giggle.

“Pookie? Pookie bear? Sugar lips? Beau? Boo?” he continues.

“No,” I object, unable to stop laughing.

“Poo bear? Snoopsy poo? Babushka? Cuddle bum? Muffin? Sweetie Pie? Cupcake? Bugaboo? Boogabear?” he adds.

“What the fuck? Some of those are ridiculous,” I reply, laughing harder.

“Dear. My lo . . . .” Joe’s voice falters on the last word.

“What was that?” I question.

“My love,” he states boldly.

“No,” I rebut, understanding what he’s trying to do — trying to get me to say that I love him.

“Honeybunch? Hot stuff? Snookum Wookums?” he chuckles. “There are plenty to choose from.”

“No,” I argue. “I’m not picking.”

“Then you’ll be tied up here . . . until you’re ready,” he muses.

“Until I have to pee or go home,” I mention.

“No,” Joe replies. “I’ll keep you tied up until you’re ready to pick one.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I ask nervously.

“Maybe,” he laughs. “I guess we’ll see if you choose to call me one or not.”

“Please,” I beg.

Joe just laughs and shakes his head.

“Please, Joe,” I coax.

He lower his lips to my ear. “Pick one.” His tongue traces a line down the entire length of my neck.

“Jooooe, please,” I pant.

“No,” he whispers as his lips continue to lightly dance along my skin.

“I want you,” I profess.

“That’s not what I’m looking for,” he reminds.

I groan as his mouth continues its exploration.

It takes at least five minutes of sweet, agonizing torture for me to surrender.

“Please . . .
baby
,” I breathe out, giggling as soon as the last word leaves my lips.

Joe’s mouth embraces mine in a passionate kiss that matches the intensity of the one he gave me when I gave him keys to my apartment. He lets go of my arms for his hands to caress my body once he repositions himself better between my legs. My thighs tighten around his waist and then my groin presses up into him.

“Say it again,” he requests, sliding my shirt up so he can taste my nipples.

The idea makes me laugh.

“Please, beautiful,” he begs. “Say it.”

My fingers tangle in his hair when his teeth bite down on my right nipple.

Joe’s mouth hovers above my sex after he removes my underwear. “Say it,” he commands.

I groan when all he does is deliver a soft kiss at the top of the seam of my folds.

“Say it,” he directs in the sexy voice with the authoritative tone that has a hold on me.

“Pleeeeeeease . . .
baby
,” I whimper.

Joe’s mouth launches to my sex, with his tongue whipping frantically over my clit.

“Fuck . . . yeeeeeeees,” I moan from the rush flooding my body.

It doesn’t take long for the orgasm to arrive from the level of teasing he’s put me through — I cum before he even puts his fingers inside me.

Joe crawls up my body, allowing me to taste myself off his lips. “Do you still need B.O.B.?” he questions amusingly.

“No,” I sigh. “Just you.”

A joyous grin spreads onto Joe’s face. “Say it again.”

“I just need you,
baby
,” I say honestly, only giggling slightly this time.

With his mouth locked to mine, Joe shimmies side to side as he removes his bottoms. He stares into my eyes as he positions himself at the edge of my hole. Unable to take his own torture any longer, Joe slides inside, shuttering once he’s all the way in.

“God,” he moans. “You feel so fucking good.”

Joe’s forehead rests on mine as he thrusts slowly and deeply. His fingers graze my cheek every so often as does his lips against mine. As his cock stiffens, his hand drifts down and firmly takes hold of my ass. He pulses harder into me as he fights his own need of release. We pull at each other, trying to be as close as we can.

“Emma,” Joe moans. “Emma, beautiful . . . I . . . I love you.”

As Joe huffs his release, mine shatters into my body.

We lay lost in each other as if we’re more connected at a new level. Joe sweeps his fingers through the edge of my hairline as he randomly dusts my lips with kisses. We don't talk. We simply just be — here with each other.

It’s been a month since Joe told me that he loves me and things between us have been really good. He tells me as much as he can, whispering it in my ear when we’re around other people like it’s our little secret. For some reason, I can’t help but smile when he does say it.

We bounce back and forth between each other’s places freely and Joe has mysteriously left a few items behind at my place like he’s trying to move in.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“What?” Joe says with a mouthful of toothpaste.

“This,” I point out. “How are these getting in here?”

Joe shrugs his shoulders.

“Did you give Anna the keys to have her put stuff in here?” I inspect.

“No,” Joe replies.

“Bullshit,” I challenge.

“I put them in there,” he confesses.

“You’re such a liar,” I charge.

“I didn’t lie,” Joe objects.

“You shrugged your shoulders like you didn’t know who put them in here,” I remind.

“That was a shrug, not a lie,” Joe comments.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are they in here . . . in my closet?”

“You have stuff at my place,” Joe reminds.

“Stuff you bought me and put in your closet,” I remind. “I didn’t purposefully leave anything at your place, nor did I buy these.”

“So?” he questions as if it’s normal.

“So, why are you trying to put your stuff in my closet?”

“Just a few things, beautiful,” he answers, rinsing his mouth. “Just in case if I forget to pack something or don’t bring anything over.”

“Joe,” I whine.

“I love you,” he sings.

“Saying that isn’t going to get you out of trouble,” I state.

“Who says I’m in trouble?” he mocks with a smile.

“You’re in trouble. A whole heap of trouble,” I clarify.

“I still love you even when you’re mad and regardless if there’s any validity to me being in trouble,” Joe says with a smirk, moving closer.

“That’s not going to help your case,” I counter.

“How about this?” he asks, sliding his hands onto my ass, pulling me into him and kissing my neck.

“Nope,” I verify confidently.

“What about this?” Joe peruses, grazing my sex with his fingers.

“No,” I say after swallowing hard.

“I love you,” he repeats.

“That’s nice,” I reply.

“Emma, beautiful,” Joe seduces.

“Not working,” I remind even though I’m starting to feel swayed a little.

“I’m sorry,” he admits.

“That helps,” I confirm.

“Really?” he says, perking up.

“Just a tiny little bit,” I return.

“Can I keep some things here, beautiful?” he requests. “Please?”

“Why?”

“I’d rather have a few things here and not need them than need them and they’re not here,” he states.

“Like what? What would you need that you’ve forgotten to bring or can’t call Anna to bring over?”

“I don’t always like to bug Anna,” he comments.

“Then, if you need them, you can head home and get them,” I suggest.

“No,” Joe challenges. “I don’t like being away from you that much.”

“You make it sound like we never get to see each other,” I mention.

“No,” he says pouting. “But, it feels like that sometimes.”

I roll my eyes, not sure how to reply to that statement.

“Please?” he begs. “Please?”

I wait a few seconds. “Fine,” I agree. “But, just a few things, okay?”

A smile beams across Joe’s face. “Okay.”

“I’ll make a list for you,” I mention.

“A list?”

“Yes,” I confirm. “A list . . . of what you can and can’t keep here.”

“What can’t I keep here?”

“An entire month’s worth of clothes for a start,” I reply.

Joe laughs. “How about three days, depending on the weather, maybe four or five?”

My eyes narrow, aware of what he’s trying to do. “Fine.”

Joe doesn’t press for more, but his expression changes into a gloating one. “Thank you, beautiful. I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I say, brushing it off.

We gather our things and take Sadie with us as we head to Maggie’s after getting dressed. There’s some business stuff Maggie and I will be going over as well as just spending time with each other while the guys head to their MBA class.

“So . . . how are things?” Maggie inquires with a sunny smile just after the boys leave.

“What do you mean?” I check.

“With you and Joe . . . ?”

“Good,” I reply simply.

“Better than good from what I hear,” she states oddly.

“What do you mean?” I search, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Henry told me what Joe said to you,” Maggie shares.

“What did he say to me?” I inquire.

“That he
loves you
,” she says, bouncing in her seat. “Tell me. Is it true?”

I roll my eyes.

“Come on, Emma,” she coaxes. “You’ve never been in a relationship before and I would have figured you would have freaked out on him when it happened.”

“I know,” I huff, confirming my own shock.

“So . . . when did it happen?”

“Valentine’s Day,” I inform.

“Shit,” she blurts, slapping her hand over her mouth and giggles. “I’m sorry, baby.” Maggie pats and looks at her belly. “Mommy didn’t mean to use a bad word.”

I stare at Maggie in shock.

“What?” she checks.

“Nothing,” I reply.

“Okay . . . so, tell me details,” she insists.

“Like what?”

“How did he tell you?” she explores. “I know how the day of and the day after went. You already told me, but left out the most important piece.”

“It’s not . . . .”

“Don’t you dare,” Maggie says cutting me off. “It is the most important thing that happened. Did you say it back?”

“What? No!” I snap back.

“Okay, geez. Don’t get your panties all twisted,” she giggles.

“He said it that night . . . after dinner while we were . . . you know,” I state uncomfortably.

“What?”

I glare at her.

“He said it when you had sex? When did he say? Before, during or after?” she checks.

“At the end . . . as we finished,” I share nervously.

“Oh . . . my . . . God!” she says each word dramatically. “How romantic.”

I shrug my shoulders.

“Trust me, Emma. That shit
is
romantic,” she says with more definitiveness.

I laugh — mostly because she just cursed again and didn’t apologize this time to her belly.

“So . . . how did he take it when you didn’t say it back?” she explores.

“Okay, I guess,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “He told me he didn’t expect me to say it and wanted me to know how he feels.”

“Awwwww,” she sings. “I’m so happy for you.”

“What? Why?”

“The fact that you didn’t freak out on him . . . that’s big . . . for you and for him,” she states. “You two are really serious, huh . . . especially since you gave him his own keys and all?”

“Don’t remind me,” I say.

“Why? What’s wrong?” she asks with concern.

“Nothing . . . it’s just weird,” I share. “And, now he’s trying to leave some things at my place. Is that weird?”

Maggie giggles. “No,” she admits. “That’s normal. Usually, though, it’s the woman trying to
move in
.”

“Fuck! Is he trying to move in?”

“Language,” Maggie chides lovingly, rubbing her belly. “No. Let me clarify. Usually, it’s the female of the relationship who wants to leave a few things behind for when they stay over. We generally deem it as
moving in
, or hinting that we’d like to . . . not that that’s what Joe is trying to do.”

“So, what
is
he trying to do?”

“Just be with you as much as he can,” she states. “The man has been in love with you for how long . . . probably since the day you two met? And, now that you two are officially together, he’s wanting as much time with you as possible, especially since he doesn’t have to hide it. Is that so wrong?”

“No, I guess not,” I huff.

“So, how are things with being in a car?” she checks, suddenly changing the topic like she always does.

“Good,” I confirm. “No issues since seeing Dr. Callahan.”

“Wonderful,” she cheers. “Do you think you’ll start learning yet?”

“No,” I reply. “I kind of don’t see the need. With our bodyguards doing it, when do I really need to do it?”

“Sometimes it’s just nice to drive yourself, or have the skill just in case, but I can understand,” Maggie soothes.

“Maybe,” I reply.

“Have you decided on what industry you’ll be doing your next business in?” she inquires.

“Either technology or renewable resources,” I answer. “Joe and I are weighing our options.”

Maggie’s grin spreads unusually fast and really wide.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she denies.

“What?”

“Just . . . you said
Joe and I are weighing our options
,” she presents.

“Yeah? So?”

“So? That’s what couples do . . . couples who are serious . . . and, here you’re freaking out about the little stuff like him leaving some things at your place, but the idea of doing business with him doesn’t phase you,” she explains.

“Should it phase me?” I check.

“No,” she laughs. “It’s just funny . . . the little things are what make you uncomfortable . . . where most couples it takes years to discuss the big things like joint businesses.”

My cheeks become warm at the realization that it seems like I do things backward when it comes to relationships.

“Did you want to go over some Raven Media stuff?” Maggie checks.

“Sure,” I agree, wanting to keep my focus on things I know I can control.

After discussing business, our topics stay on the light side of things as we wait for the guys to get back from their class to have dinner. Maggie and I end up taking a nap on the patio with Sadie while enjoying the pleasant, late-March breeze.

Henry and Joe return from their class sooner than expected, getting back around six in the evening. The staff is ready to serve us about ten minutes after they arrive. Apparently, Henry texted them in advance.

Once dinner concludes, Joe and Henry retire to one of the sitting rooms off the back of the house while Maggie and I mix up some cocktails and grab dessert. We hand the men a glass of scotch each and settle onto the couch across from them. As we chat, Maggie shifts to untuck her feet from under her rear to stretch them out. I offer for her to place them across my lap and I start rubbing her feet and calves once I place my empty dessert bowl on the coffee table.

Joe and Henry are engaged in their own conversation about business and their class while Maggie and I entertain ourselves.

“Ohh, good news,” Maggie says excitedly. “I’m officially into my second trimester.”

“Yeah,” I celebrate, not quite understanding her enthusiasm.

Maggie rolls her eyes to my reply. “It means that I’m in the clear for avoiding a miscarriage.”

My hand pauses at her words, surprised to hear her say that word so casually. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” she confirms. “Isn’t that wonderful.” She hands me her now empty dessert bowl and I add it to the tray with mine.

“Definitely,” I agree.

“Henry and I went to see Kim yesterday and everything is great,” she mentions. “The baby is completely healthy, as am I, and everything is on track.” She shifts slightly. “See. I’m already showing.” She pulls her dress close to her body so it’s flush against her skin.

“How big is the baby?” I ask with curiosity.

“Kim said that he, or she, is the size of a large avocado right now,” Maggie answers.

“How are you holding up, Henry?” I pose, interrupting his and Joe’s conversation.

“What do you mean?” he returns with his spoon stuck in his mouth.

I laugh. “It hasn’t registered for him yet, I take it,” I say, looking to Maggie.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Henry replies defensively.

“Nothing,” I giggle. “Eric and Peter were both freaking out by this point when the girls were pregnant with Jade and Rey.”

“What do you mean?” Joe asks.

“She’s right,” Maggie confirms. “Reality of the fact that a baby was on the way hit them pretty hard. Harder than Amy and Kim, I think, but then again, Amy and Kim were both showing a little more than me.”

“Do you know if it’s a boy or girl yet?” Joe inquires eagerly.

“No,” Maggie giggles. “We can find out at our next appointment, but I don’t want to know.”

“Why not?” I ask rather sharply.

“I’m not a control freak like you, Emma,” Maggie teases, tossing a pillow at me.

“Ha ha, very funny,” I say, tickling her thigh.

A spark lights in Maggie’s eye and I can tell exactly what’s going on in her mind — in her body — she wants to fuck. She moves, getting onto her knees and slowly creeps to me. I can see Henry and Joe watching out of the corner of my eye, curiously studying us. Maggie inches closer and the fact that I can smell her already means that she won’t be taking
no
for an answer.

My hands rest on her hips once she’s sitting on top of me. Our eyes stay locked until Maggie looks back to Henry for a second and then returns to me. She lowers her lips to my neck and I’m able to see Joe over her shoulder. There’s desire in his eyes and calmness in his body. Henry seems a little uneasy like he’s not sure how this night may turn.

Maggie moves for my mouth, but I jerk away slightly. “I want you,” she confesses.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Mags,” I mention softly.

“Why?” she searches, continuing her pursuit. “It can be just us . . . and when you’re ready, go to Joe. Then, I’ll go to Henry.”

“You and I both know you’ll need more than that,” I remind.

“Then, I’ll come to you, but I won’t push for anything else. You and Joe can tell me what you’re comfortable with,” she adds.

“Henry doesn’t seem comfortable by the idea,” I comment.

Maggie looks back and sees Henry’s apprehension. With a smile, she says, “I’ll take care of Henry. Relax. They don’t need to interact with each other.” She giggles at the thought. “I’ll take your lead when you’re with Joe . . . just like you took mine
that
time with Henry.”