Locke (Rosewood High #0.5) - Tracy Lorraine Page 0,12
small piece of paradise in the woods he’s created. “You did all this?”
“Yes and no. I had a little help,” he admits.
I’m about to ask who when it dawns on me. “My mom.”
“She supplied me with all the props. I just did the leg work.”
“It’s incredible.”
“Coming in?” he asks, holding his hand out for me and walking toward our makeshift tent.
I allow him to pull me inside before I drop to my knees and crawl so I can lay down beside him.
“I- I can’t believe all of this.”
“Do you know how many times I’ve imagined sneaking off with you in here and having my wicked way with you?”
“No, I really don’t.”
“Hmmm,” he says, leaning toward me and brushing his nose against mine. “Maybe I should show you then.”
He moves closer still until I fall onto my back on the blankets he laid out under here. His palm cups my cheek before he lowers his lips to mine.
It starts out slow, sweet, tender, but as nice as it is, I need more. I need the man who cornered me in the bathroom the other night. I need the bad boy as well as the sweet guy who made us a little den.
Reaching out, I find the hem of his jersey and push the fabric up so I can run my hand up his bare back. His skin erupts in goose bumps and I can’t help but smile as our kiss continues.
I pull my nails down his back lightly and he growls, encouraging me to go further.
“Off,” I mutter against his lips.
I regret it the second he pulls his lips from mine, but it’s only for a brief moment as the fabric passes between us, because then he’s back. His tongue sweeps into my mouth and his hand skims up from my waist until he’s palming my breast. My back arches, trying to get more of his touch.
Moving over me, he drops one knee between my thighs, but it’s not close enough for me to get anywhere near the friction I need.
“Emerson,” I moan when he pulls his lips from mine in favor of my neck.
“Yes, baby?”
“I need…” My words trail off, not really knowing what it is I actually need.
“Tell me. It’s yours.”
“More. I need more.”
“My pleasure,” he says with a chuckle.
His fingers slide under my tank, the fabric pushing up my stomach until it’s over my bra. My breasts feel heavy and swollen in the confines of my bra and I almost beg for him to remove it.
He looks up at me. His usually light-blue eyes are dark with desire. “If you need me to stop, all you’ve got to do is say the word.”
I nod, unable to say anything. I’m too lost in his dark stare.
“Lift your arms.”
I do as I’m told and in moments my tank is on the ground and his kiss is brushing across the swell of my breasts.
“So sweet,” he murmurs, kissing lower and along the lace trim of each cup.
My fingers thread into his hair, holding him in place as his lips drive me crazy.
His eyes find mine. His eyelids are heavy with lust and I feel a bolt of electricity race through me knowing that I caused it. Fingers tickle along my bra strap and he mouths, “Okay?” before I lift enough for him to undo the clasp.
I want to sigh with relief when the fabric is pulled away from me, but the look of pure adoration on Emerson’s face as he stares down at me from his seated position distracts me from anything but this moment between us.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, the emotion in his voice hitting me right in the chest.
I don’t get a chance to respond because no sooner has he said the words, does he lean forward once again. He circles his tongue around one of my nipples and my back arches from the blanket in pleasure.
“Oh fuck,” I moan as he ups the ante and sucks it into his hot mouth.
Moving to the other side, he gives that one the same treatment until I’m moaning and writhing beneath him.
“Emerson,” I moan, pulling at his hair impossibly hard when he moves to pull back.
“Anyone ever done that to you before?”
My cheeks heat, but I doubt he can see as I’m flushed from head to toe right now. Shaking my head, a huge smile spreads across his lips.
“Do I get to give you your firsts?”
I stare at him sitting astride my thighs, his chest heaving, his incredible torso on