Page 47 of His Temptation

“But it’s what you meant.”

“You’re putting words into my mouth,” Emery said, annoyed. “If you were some pity case, why would I have spent all goddamn day stressing about making tonight perfect for you?”

The amazing smell from earlier had shifted.

“Is something burning?” I asked, crinkling my nose.

Emery’s eyes went wide. “Shit!”

He turned and bolted toward the kitchen. I went after him and coughed when I ran into a cloud of smoke, my eyes stinging. Emery pulled the smoking skillet off the stove and cursed up a storm before turning off the burner. He flipped on the overhead fan on the stove before opening the window above the sink, ushering out the smoke.

“You were cooking?”

He leaned against the counter. “Yes. Steak and roasted potatoes.”

“Because I was coming over?”

“Yes,” he said again, looking at me. “Why are you smiling?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, feeling shy all of a sudden. “You really thought this through, huh? You were gonna wine and dine me before taking me to bed? Like a damn gentleman.”

Emery stepped away from the counter and glared at the blackened steaks in the skillet. “When you put it like that, I guess it was stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid.” What was this achy feeling in my sternum? I couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m… flattered, I think. I expected to come over and fuck. I didn’t expect… well, this.”

“You didn’t expect burned steak?” He released a sharp breath and approached me, his eyes unreadable. “Look, I’m not good at this. I’ve never dated the guys I’ve been with. I met them, fucked them, and never saw them again.”

“I told you I’m not asking for any of that romance crap, Emery.” Hadn’t we already made that clear?

“I know you aren’t,” he said, his tone sharp. “But it doesn’t feel right to treat you like I treat all of them.”

“Because I’m a virgin?”

“No, because you’re…” He shook his head and averted his eyes. “It just doesn’t feel right, okay?”

I didn’t see what was so hard about having a fling. The point of one was supposed to make things easier, less stressful. Fun.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Ever since Emery and I started this confusing dance weeks ago, he’d told me to leave each time things got heavy. So I decided to beat him to the punch.

“No,” he answered, taking the last three strides toward me. “I’m sorry I’m such a goddamn mess. I don’t know why I’m like this.”

I realized something pretty important about Emery in that moment. He wasn’t just a planner and had to have everything organized; he was also a major control freak. Just look at the dude’s house. Everything was perfect. No chaos to be found.

And there I was, the chaos in his perfectly structured world.

“Can I be honest without you getting pissed?” I asked.

“Of course.”

“You’re too much in your head,” I said, gripping his hips and tugging him against me. “We decided this will be a no-strings thing, so let this shit go. You’re stressing about not treating me like other guys, but that’s exactly what I want. I don’t need to be wined and dined. I want to be fucked. Hard. So stop overthinking everything and just fuck me already.”

Something seemed to click in his head. Suddenly, there was no hesitation in his eyes. No confusion. His expression turned dazed almost.

Emery grabbed my face and kissed me, slamming me against the wall and rattling the pictures hanging beside us. It was unlike any other kiss he’d given me. His lips meshed to mine without restraint. His hands slid under my shirt, and he tugged it up and over my head. Then he was kissing my neck, undoing the button on my jeans.

I panted and clung onto his back, enjoying this wild side of him. It was like he’d needed me to take charge and demand what I wanted. And now he was free.