Authors: Melody Grace
Tags: #Romance, #summer, #love, #kristen proby, #erotic, #summer love, #coming of age, #abbi glines
Unbroken (26 page)
There.
I cry out, my body aching for release, the flames climbing higher. Emerson’s eyes darken. He thrusts again, harder, growling against my ear as our bodies surge faster. I arch up, sobbing, clawing at his broad shoulders, grinding my hips against him as our breath becomes frenzied, each new pulse and spark sending me closer, pulling me tauter, hurtling me deeper into the infinity of his eyes, and lips, and body rocking up into—
“Emerson!” I scream, shattering. He cries my name, surging inside of me, his body shuddering over and over as I break open, free-falling down into the dark folds of ecstasy, clutching him to me for dear life as the waves of pleasure rip through my very soul.
When I surface, I’m laying in his arms, my body scooped safe against the curve of his torso. I exhale, long and shaky.
“Hey,” I feel his whisper in my ear. I turn my head, so I’m looking back at him.
“Hey yourself,” I grin. My body is still shivering with aftershocks, sensitive to every gentle caress of his fingertip. I snuggle back, pulling his arms tighter around me. “You think the storm’s over yet?”
“Which one?” Emerson laughs, a low vibrating rumble against my back.
I flip over, so our faces are laying just inches apart. “Well, this one seems pretty calm to me,” I smile, intertwining my fingers with his and dropping tiny kisses over the bank of his hand.
“Give me a couple of minutes, and we’ll see,” Emerson winks.
I laugh, feeling a blissful calm settle over me. It’s not just the afterglow, no, this is something deeper: the sure knowledge that this man is my everything. Always.
“Forever,” Emerson says softly, as if he can see it in my eyes. He circles his thumb and forefinger and gently slides them over the ring finger of my left hand.
My heart stops.
“Are you…?” the words fade on my lips, but inside, I’m flying again. I check Emerson’s face again, but all I find is certainty.
Certainty, and love.
He glances down, bashful. “I know, I don’t have—“
“Yes!” I cry, smothering him with a kiss, as if there could ever be enough kisses in the world for this man. “Yes, of course I will!”
“You didn’t let me finish.” Emerson protests, but he keeps a hold of my finger, eyes burning with joy. “I was going to say… I’m with you. Anywhere you want to go, anything you want to do. I’m there.”
I feel tears well up, joyful and true. I cradle our hands against my heart, so happy, I feel as if it will burst right out of my chest. “I don’t know yet, what I want to do,” I admit. “Only that it’ll be with you.”
“First, you’ve got college to finish.” He points out, “Then… We could move to the city,” he suggests. “Come back here for summer vacations, if you want.”
I shake my head slowly, letting out a sigh of regret. “It’s too late. Dad sold the house already, it’ll probably be razed to the ground in a week.”
“Not if the new owner has anything to say about it.” Emerson’s smile is full of secrets. I frown.
“What are you talking about?”
He kisses me. “It’s mine. Well, ours. I bought it for you.”
My mouth drops open. Emerson leans in to kiss me again, but I pull back, my mind reeling. “What? I don’t understand…” I blink at him, amazed. “But, where did you get the money? Emerson! You can’t afford this!”
“Sure I can,” he shrugs, still grinning. “I sold half the bar to Garrett, and your Dad will tell you, I drive a hard bargain. I got it for a song.”
My tears come again. “You bought me a house,” I whisper, amazed. “I can’t believe it. Nobody’s ever done something like that for me.”
“Get used to it.” Emerson cradles my cheeks in his hands. “I’m going to love you forever, Juliet McKenzie. And I’m going to spend every day proving you’re the only one.”
“You don’t have anything to prove,” I whisper, “You’re my hurricane, Emerson Ray. I’ll always be yours.”
AFTER
We stay in the cellar until the next morning, breathing promises into each other’s bodies; tracing the future across our naked skin. When we emerge from the shelter out into the bright light of day, the storm has passed, but the damage is strewn all across the property.
“Oh!” I cry with disappointment, taking in the felled trees splayed on the ground, and the wreckage of roof tiles and storm windows, broken on the ground. My photography studio is nothing but firewood, shelves thrown clear across the yard, prints scattered and dancing on the breeze.
“Shh,” Emerson holds me close, surveying the scene. “Don’t you see, it’s still standing. It’ll take more than a little storm to tear this one down.”
He’s right. The porch chairs may be broken, and the window smashed open, but the bones of the old beach house are still standing, solid and true, ready to weather another hundred hurricanes.
Unbroken.
“Ready to get started?” I ask.
“Hell yeah. “He turns and gives me a heart-stopping smile.
This is mine,
I realize in wonder. For the rest of my days, I get that smile, and those eyes, and so much more, a lifetime with the man I’ve loved completely since the day we met.
I take his hand, and we walk together into our tomorrow.
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