Loud: The Complete Series (A Bad Boy Alpha Male Romance) (20 page)

“Oh my God, Emerson,” she said,
and there was genuine concern and sympathy in her voice. “I'm so sorry to hear
that.”

“Thank you,” I replied.

She reached across the table and
took my hand in hers. A powerful stirring of electric excitement charged
through me as her skin touched mine and I felt the warmth of her hand under the
tips of my fingers.

“If there's anything you need,
I'm here for you,” she said. A glisten of tears rimmed the edges of her eyes.

“Thank you,” I repeated, not
really knowing what else to say. “That means a lot to me, Brooke. It really
does.”

“Well, I mean it,” she assured
me.

We sat in silence for a few
moments before I gently withdrew my hand from hers. “Let's not talk too much
about it, though,” I said. “I don't want to dwell on it.”

“Alright,” she replied. “Well,
now that we're done with dinner, how about we do something else?”

“Sure,” I replied as I drained
the last of my wine from my glass. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, how about another bottle
of wine for starters?” she suggested, her eyes glinting with a flirtatious glow
in the candlelight. “The night is still young.”

“It's still young, indeed,” I agreed.
“Bring it on.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

Brooke

Hearing Emerson talk about his
dad's medical situation really pulled at my heartstrings. In fact, I had to
stop myself from getting all teary-eyed right there in front of him. I don’t
know what it was, but seeing him hurting broke my heart. I had to hold myself
back from jumping out of my seat and wrapping my arms around him to comfort
him. Instead, I took his hand. That’s when something happened. I could almost
feel him calm down as our eyes met. It was as though the touch of my hand
seemed to assuage some of the fears that were gnawing at his heart at the
prospect of his dad having such a risky surgery.

At once, all I wanted was to
steer his thoughts away from all the worry and anxiety. So, I suggested,
against my own rational judgment, that we drink more. I don't typically approve
of using alcohol as a crutch, but once in a while, it can be a little
therapeutic to drown one's sorrows in a few glasses of liquid courage. And, I
sensed that poor Emerson had some pretty intense sorrows to drown.

So, we headed to the sofa, our
bellies satisfied with both wine and the delicious meal Emerson had made, and
we sat down with a fresh bottle of dry red.

The room wasn't spinning by any
means. I was, however, feeling a bit of a heady rush from the bottle we'd
already finished off. I wasn't quite drunk yet, but the buzz was coming on
fast. We flopped down on the sofa, and Emerson uncorked the second bottle. He
filled up a glass for me, one for himself, and he then clinked his glass
against mine with a smile.

“Thanks for a great evening,” he
said.

“It's not over yet,” I replied.
“Unless you’re just ready to get the hell out of Dodge.”

He locked his gaze on mine. “Not
a chance.”

An energy pierced the air between
us. I could sense the heat of Emerson's stare, and could almost feel the
pumping of his heart in that powerful chest coursing through the space between
us. I immediately looked down at the glass in my hand, trying to breathe, but I
couldn’t keep my eyes off of him as he leaned toward the coffee table to set
the bottle of wine down. He caught me staring and smiled almost shyly, causing
me to avert my eyes once more and sending a flush of heat through my cheeks.

“Alright,” he broke the awkward
silence, “how about we play a drinking game?”

I laughed. “I have never played a
drinking game!”

“Well, all the more reason for
you to do it now! What's life without trying new experiences?” He grinned and
raised his eyebrows, challenging me.

I considered his challenge for a
moment before replying.

“Okay. Fine. I'll play. What kind
of game are you thinking of?”

“How about a little game you
might have heard of called…truth or dare?”

He took a sip of his wine as he
looked over the edge of his glass at me ever so suggestively. The intensity of his
glance took my breath away. I pulled in a slow, deep breath as inconspicuously
as I could.

“Alright,” I agreed. “Let's do
this. So how does the drinking aspect of it come in?”

“Well, we'll play the classic
truth or dare. You know how that works, right?”

“I do, though it's been a long
time since I played. I think the last time was in middle school. How do we add
the drinking into it?”

“Alright, so let's say it's your
turn. I say to you, 'Truth or dare?', and you obviously have to pick one of
those options. If you pick truth, I ask you a question and you have to tell me
the truth. If you choose dare, you have to do whatever dare I suggest. Now,
here’s the drinking part. If you don't wanna tell the truth, or don't wanna do
the dare, you have to drink a large gulp of wine. Got it?”

“Yeah, sounds easy enough. So,
who's gonna go first?”

Emerson took a quarter out of his
pocket. “I'll flip a coin. Loser goes first.”

“Deal.”

He grinned as he positioned the
coin on top of his thumbnail.

“Heads or tails?” he asked.

“Heads.”

He flipped the coin up into the
air, caught it and slapped it into the palm of his left hand. He kept it
covered for a few tantalizing seconds before he revealed the outcome.

“Ha!” he exclaimed. “It's tails!
Looks like you're up first, Brooke. So, what's it gonna be? Truth or dare?”

I sipped on my wine before
answering. “Truth.”

“Alright. I'll start off mild,
ease you into the game. So, my question for you is: How old were you when you
had your first kiss?”

I chuckled. “Alright, that’s easy
enough. I'll answer that one. I was thirteen.”

“Thirteen, huh? And, who was it
with?”

“Um, you only get one question,
mister. Nice try.”

“Yeah, you're right, you're
right, I was pushing it there.”

I smiled. “But I’m feeling
generous. I'll tell you anyway. His name was Jimmy Chamberlain. He lived down
the street from me at the time. There were some woods near our house. He and I
used to go to the woods to catch fireflies in jars in the evenings. So, one
evening we were out with our jars sitting on this old fallen tree trunk when
this huge swarm of fireflies came through the trees. It was amazing. Looked
like something out of a movie. I remember watching in awe, looking at all these
little insects drifting through the trees like floating stars. We were so amazed
that we didn't even try to catch any of them. We just sat in silence watching
this spectacle unfold. Before I realized it, we were holding hands, and the
next thing I knew… Well, my first kiss.”

Emerson smiled warmly. “That
actually does sound like something out of a movie,” he said. “What ever
happened to little Jimmy?”

“Oh, I dunno. My family moved
soon after that, and we didn't stay in touch.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” I sighed dramatically.
“Young love. I guess it just wasn't meant to be. Anyway, enough about my sad
love life. It's your turn. So, truth or dare?”

He fired a cheeky smile at me.
“I'm gonna go with dare.”

“Alright, mister! Give me a
moment to think of something suitable.” I scrunched my nose as I thought. “Got
it. Ready?”

“As I’m gonna get.”

“I dare you to walk out on the
balcony, do a Tarzan yell as loud as you can, then announce to the neighbors
that
Brooke is the best neighbor ever
!
Loudly.”

He grinned and complied without
hesitating. When he returned to the couch, I was laughing hysterically.

“If the cops are called, I’m
telling them you did it,” he announced as he sat down.

I just shook my head and tried to
stop laughing. “They’d never believe me. My Tarzan cry isn’t nearly as good as
yours,” I admitted.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, put your money
where your mouth is. Take a dare,” he taunted.

“Fine. Dare.” The word slipped
out before I even thought about it.

He didn’t hesitate. “I dare you
to tell me what you really think of me.”

I almost told him. I opened my
mouth and just as he thought the words were going to come out, I slowly raised
my wine glass and gulped down what remained in it with a sly grin.

“Oh, that was just wrong,” he
grumbled.

I laughed.

Three truths, a dare, and another
empty bottle of wine later, it was his turn.

“Okay, Tarzan, what’s it’s going
to be? Truth? Or dare?” I asked.

“I think it’s time for another
dare.”

We both took sips of our freshly
poured wine. I was really starting to feel the effects, its soothing heat
moving through my body. I also felt my inhibitions starting to fall away, but I
was at a point I really didn’t much care.

“Okay, Emerson, I dare you to…strip
down to your underwear.” I was more surprised at what I’d dared him to do than
he seemed to be.

He didn't even bother to protest
or hesitate. He stood up immediately and whipped off his shirt, which he flung
across the room stripper-style — a move that got me giggling like a schoolgirl.
Then he slowly undid his belt, dropped his jeans around his ankles, and climbed
out of them. Next thing I knew, he whirled them around his head like a lasso. I
couldn't help but laugh. While I was giggling, he tossed them across the room,
as well. He was left standing in his underwear — tight, black boxer briefs,
which left almost nothing to the imagination, as the contours of the bulge protruding
from them was plain to see. I couldn't stop myself from taking in the whole
spectacle of his gloriously hard, defined body. Every muscle seemed to have
been chiseled from smooth marble. There didn't seem to be an ounce of fat
lurking anywhere on him. I stared for a moment before it hit me that I should
say something or do something; I'd been staring at him so long it was becoming
a bit embarrassing.

“Alright then, well done!” I
laughed. “Now it's my turn again, right?”

“That it is,” he replied, and
then sat down next to me in his underwear.

“Umm…Emerson, I didn't say you
have to stay in your underwear, ya know. You executed the dare, you can get
dressed now.”

He smiled, and I’d have sworn
there was a hint of something strongly suggestive in his smirk.

“I'm comfortable like this,” he
said. “Besides, don't you think it's kinda hot in here?”

It was definitely hot, although
whether that was from the actual temperature in the room or the fact that
Emerson was now basically naked next to me, I couldn't say for sure.

“Um, yeah, it's absolutely a
little warm in here,” I responded, not quite able to look him in the eye. “So,
yeah, let's get on with the game.”

We each drank the last of the
wine in our glasses and then topped them off again. I realized how quickly we'd
been drinking and how the alcohol was starting to hit me. I was feeling pretty
light-headed.

“Alright, truth or dare?” he
smirked. “And don’t say truth again, chicken.”

“Okay. Dare.”

A devious smile turned up the
corners of his luscious lips. “I dare you to move closer to me.”

I complied, all the while staring
him down like I wasn’t fazed. But I was. He was dangerously close. “Your turn,”
I half whispered.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to tell me what
you’re thinking right now.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“I’m thinking that I really want
to kiss you,” he breathed.

My pulse quickened.

“Your turn,” he reminded me when
I didn’t speak.

“Truth.”

Emerson locked his eyes on mine
with a smoldering gaze. “If I kissed you, would you like it?”

“Umm, can you ask another
question?”

“You can drink if you don't wanna
answer, but I'm not gonna change the question.” His focus intensified.

“Alright, I'll answer. Yes. I
would.”

He shifted closer to me on the
sofa. His hand brushed against mine and, instinctively, I opened my hand to
allow him to slip his fingers through mine. Locked in his gaze, blood pounded
in my temples, heat rushed through my limbs as he moved in closer.

“Do you really mean that?” he
asked.

I nodded.

“Then… I guess…” he slipped his
free hand around my neck and tangled his fingers in my hair. “I guess there's
only one way to know if you’re telling the truth,” he whispered as he leaned in
and covered my lips softly with his.

There was a brief moment of
resistance on my part — a fleeting moment, the last brick in my wall coming
down and settling in a cloud of dust. I parted my lips and allowed his tongue
to explore. The taste of wine rushed over me as our tongues moved in a
shifting, gentle dance. He pulled me closer as we kissed, his hand gently moved
to cup my face. Possessed of its own will, my hand glided up to caress his
magnificently solid chest. It was just as statuesque in feeling as it looked.

He began to run his hands up and
down my back, brushing the skin ever so lightly with his fingertips. Every
subtle touch sent shivers of pleasure rippling along the surface of my skin.

We parted, both gasping for
breath after the intensity of the kiss. He looked as if he was going to say
something, to hesitate, but then his expression changed. Instead, he leaned in
and kissed the side of my neck. His lips grazed along my throat, nibbling and
biting with just enough force to tantalize and set me aflame with want.

His hands began exploring more of
me as his tongue trailed kisses back up my neck until his lips found mine once
more. I ran my fingers in every direction I could find, caressing his back,
which was just as solid as the rest of his body. Every time his lips touched my
skin or his hands traced along the outside of my breast, I felt a fresh surge
of pleasure shudder through my body.

I gasped softly; his touch had
just the right amount of force balanced with gentleness. It was apparent he
knew how to touch a woman's body.