Loud: The Complete Series (A Bad Boy Alpha Male Romance) (28 page)

“Just humor me, man. I'm, uh, testing your short-term
memory.”

“Uh, okay bro,” Chris replied. “If I look out my
window, the first thing I always see is the big water tower on the hill.”

“Yeah, that's right. I can't see it from my side of
the apartment,” Emerson stated.

Leslie paused the video again. “Do you know what this
means?” she asked. “Has it hit you yet?”

“Umm…I think it might have,” I replied, realization
beginning to dawn on me.

“Brooke, what's the first thing you notice when you
look out of your bedroom window?”

“The…shit. The
big water tower on the hill.”

It hit me like a ton of bricks. “Oh my God,” I
exclaimed. “It was Chris. It was Chris all along.”

“Damn right, girl! All the porno practices you heard
through your wall — that wasn't Emerson! His room was on the other side of the
apartment!”

“Oh no,” I gasped, as I felt my blood starting to run
cold. “Oh my God, Les, I made a terrible mistake.”

“Yeah, you did — and so did Emerson when he assumed
you were the one who called the cops. But, he's really, really sorry about
doing that. I’ve talked to him, ya know. There’s one thing I can say for sure.
All he wants is
you,
Brooke.”

“But what if… What if it's too late? I sent him a
really nasty message telling him to never speak to me again. And, I did that
all because
I
made a horrible assumption about him.”

“Well, I guess that means you're both even,” she chimed.
“And it is time to put the mistakes of the past behind you and do what's right!
Fix this mess!”

“But how am I supposed to do that?”

“I hope you've got your credit card on you,” she said
with a cryptic smile.

Stacy came backstage just as I was about to ask what
the hell she meant by that. “Brooke, we're about to start again, come on!”

“I'll chat to you after the auction is done,” I said
to Leslie. “Thanks so much for showing me this. We can sort this out after the
auction.”

“Oh, I think maybe you'll sort it all out before the
auction is over,” Leslie declared with a wink.

I wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but the cue
music had already begun. I hurried back to the stage and took my place.

“Ready to call out the next guy?” asked Stacy.

“As ready as I’m gonna be,” I replied.

We continued with the auction until we reached the
final candidate. I glanced back at the silhouette standing in the shadows at
the edge of the stage. Something about the figure commanded my attention,
although I couldn't quite place what it was. I didn’t have time to try to
decide what it was. Stacy called out his name and I flipped the page to read
his bio to the audience.

“And the final bachelor of the evening is Ricardo
Daniels. Come on out, Ricardo!”

The man walked out into the spotlight and my heart
almost stopped. It seemed Ricardo Daniels was the alter ego of Emerson Reed.

Taking in the sight of Emerson looking absolutely
gorgeous in a dark gray suit and coordinating tie, was almost more than I could
recover from. My stare stalled on his slicked back hair and square jaw, rough
with stubble. He held a picnic basket and big bouquet of flowers. That wasn’t
all that unusual for the evening, but the ribbon around them with my name
printed across it was.

I put down the program and began to speak from my
heart instead.

“Ricardo, otherwise known as Emerson, is twenty years
old. This bachelor is extremely intelligent, generous, sweet, and hard-working.
He has a heart of gold. He loves riding motorcycles, and has a passion for
science, physics, and chemistry. To top all of that off, he’s a big
Game of
Thrones
fan. And, as perfect as he looks, sometimes he makes mistakes —
like all of us do, because we're only human. In my opinion, ladies, our last
bachelor is the catch of the evening. We're going to start the bidding at
$100.”

A girl in the audience immediately put up her hand.

“Can you take over?” I whispered to Stacy.

She looked surprised but nodded and took the mic from
me.

“We have $150 down there,” Stacy announced. “Now, do
we have $160?”

Another girl raised her hand. Meanwhile, I rushed off
stage, grabbed a paddle left laying on a table, and took an empty seat at the
back.

“Do we have $170?” asked Stacy.

Yet another girl raised her hand.

“$180?”

Another hand went up.

Emerson saw me at the back and our eyes locked, and an
intense expression passed between us. Heat rushed through me. I raised my hand.

“$350!” I shouted.

It was the largest bid of the evening and everyone
fell silent. Stacy stared at me from the stage.

“Are you sure? $350?”

“Absolutely!” I replied.

“Okay. Going once, going twice. Sold for $350 to
Brooke Baker!” she shouted. “And, with that, tonight's bachelor evening is
over!”

Everyone stood and began talking and shuffling out of
their seats. I made a beeline straight for the stage where Emerson was waiting
for me.

“Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’m pretty sure
someone’s grandma was eyeing me from the front row.”

I smiled. “My pleasure. But it’s going to cost ya. You
want to get out of here?” I asked. “Right now. Just you and me.”

“More than you’ll ever know,” he responded.

***

By the time we got to his new place — only five
minutes away — all I wanted was to rip his clothes off and have at him. But
Emerson had other plans.

“Stay put,” he insisted, turning his truck off. He
quickly grabbed the picnic basket from the extended cab behind his seat and
rushed around to open my door for me, holding his hand out to help me out of
the truck. At only five-feet four-inches, I actually slid out of the seat more
than stepped out. A huge grin spread across his five o’clock shadow as my
stilettos hit the pavement.

“What are you grinning at? I’m vertically challenged.
I can’t help it.”

“I’m grinning because you’re here. And because you are
stunning,” his grin softened into a sincere regard. “And because you have my
heart, Brooke Baker.” He sat the picnic basket on the back of the truck and
stepped closer to me. His hands cradled the sides of my face. My pulse
quickened at the close proximity of his body to mine. The intensity in our
connected gazes went off the charts. When he spoke again, there was an
undeniable honesty in his voice. “This ridiculous smile on my face is there
because I love you, Brooke.”

He didn’t even give me a chance to respond. His lips
descended on mine and the heat rose between us. Emerson had kissed me before,
and it had been passionate and tender. But this kiss…this kiss was more than
that. This kiss quaked in places that I never knew had existed. And in that
moment, I realized why I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Emerson even
in those times when I was convinced he was a scumbag player — I loved him. I’d been
denying it because I didn’t want to love someone who was going to hurt me
again. But even in the moments I thought I hated him, those feelings were still
more real than anything I had ever felt for Andrew.

When our lips parted, our eyes met again. He stroked a
strand of my hair from my cheek and smiled down at me. “Brooke, I’m sorry I
ever gave you any reason to doubt me. I will never allow that to happen again.
You will always know how important you are to me, how honestly and truly I love
you.” He searched my eyes, as if he were trying to read my mind to know that
his words had sunk into my heart — into my soul. They had.

“Make love to me, Emerson,” I whispered.

His lips crooked up one side of his sexy mouth. “What
about the picnic?”

“We’ll need the nourishment when we’re done,” I
smirked.

He kissed me again, grabbed the picnic basket with one
hand and my hand with the other, then pulled me as quickly as my stilettos
would allow to his apartment. The moment we were inside, he dropped the basket,
pushed me against a wall, and began another of those long, languid, passionate
kisses. Slowly, we started undressing each other. My heart was hammering, my
breath coming in short, quick gasps. I wanted him badly, and he wanted me with
an almost wolf-like hunger.

By the time we reached his bedroom, he was already
shirtless. He'd discarded his shirt, jacket, and tie somewhere along the way as
we'd kissed and pawed at each other. With fumbling hands, he opened the bedroom
door and we stumbled in, almost tripping over each other as we continued with a
passionate intensity.

“Unzip my dress,” I gasped. “Hurry.”

He unzipped my dress and slowly pushed his hands
beneath the fabric to slide it from my shoulders and glide it the rest of the
way down every curve of my body, leaving me standing in the naked light
streaming from the hall in only my bra, panties, and stilettos.

I tugged my bottom lips between my teeth and turned to
face him as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“God you are beautiful,” he breathed.

He began kissing my neck, moving his hands tenderly up
and down my sides and my back, caressing me with gentle, yet eager, touches.

As he did, I ran the fingers of my left hand through
his hair, slowly but surely easing his head down, directing it lower and lower.
With my right, I unbuttoned his pants and reached inside, wrapping my fingers
around the substantial girth of his hardening cock, and then slowly began
moving my hand up and down along its length.

His caresses were moving down my body, and soon he
slipped his fingers into the waistband of my panties and pulled them down with
a firm, but gentle tug. They dropped to my ankles, and I stepped out of them.

Now he was kissing me around my lower belly, on my
hips and thighs, while running his hands up and down my legs. I knew where his
head was aiming to reach, and I parted my legs to accommodate him, but remained
standing, running both of my hands now through his thick, luscious hair as he
started to kiss me at the meeting of my thighs.

I was ready — very ready. He slipped a finger inside
me, just to tease. I gasped and shuddered involuntarily and he chuckled as he
slid it back out.

My knees went weak as a wave of pleasure moved through
me.

“Not yet,” he whispered as he leaned in, moving his
face between my legs.

He started teasing me with his tongue — gentle licks
and ever so slight touches. I could feel my inner thighs becoming slick.
Emerson started kissing me, using his lips in an alternately gentle and then
more forceful manner. My nerve endings were all tingling, and I really was
starting to question whether I'd be able to maintain my balance for much
longer.

Then he started licking, with the tip of his tongue,
on my clit. He used just enough pressure to send wave after wave of pleasure
rippling through my body, and he kept the strokes of his tongue rhythmic and
the pressure consistent.

The first pulsing of an orgasm began to build within
me as he kept going.

“Don't stop, Emerson,” I managed to gasp. “Please, for
the love of God, don't-”

He kept his pace steady and the orgasm started to grow
within me, building like a balloon inflated with too much air until, in a
release from this glorious pressure, it finally exploded, shooting hot shrapnel
shards of pure pleasure through my entire nervous system.

I cried out as the waves of joy boosted through my
veins, and gripped Emerson's hair with more force than I probably should have.
I pushed his head away from me, my body shivering and trembling from the force
of the orgasm. He tried to move back in, but I stopped him.

“Wait,” I managed to gasp. “Not yet. It's…it’s… I
can’t take anymore right now.” I fell onto the edge of the bed beside him and
regained my breath. With a mischievous sideways glance, I smiled at him. “My
turn. Or should I say, your turn.”

I instructed him to stand and face me, running my
hands lightly over his beautifully-sculpted body as I did. The smooth, solid
hardness of his muscles made me even wetter than I already was.

When my hands reached his pants, I yanked them down,
and his hard, throbbing cock emerged. I opened my mouth and guided it in
slowly. His knees buckled a little with pleasure as I started to gently stroke
the underside with my tongue. He started to run his fingers through my hair as
I licked and teased, stroking the shaft with my hands as I did.

When I increased the momentum, moving my head back and
forth, he moaned and gasped, and his fingers gripped my hair in tight handfuls.
He took over, moving my head back and forth at an ever-increasing pace.

“Oh my God, Brooke,” he moaned.

He slowed the movements and eased his cock out of my
mouth, and dropped down to his knees before me and kissed me slowly and deeply,
moving his tongue around my mouth with gentle pressure. Then he slipped his
fingers through mine and pushed me back onto his bed, positioning himself over
me.