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Russ teased her mouth open, dipping his tongue inside, rubbing against her own. She felt the rough warmth and instinctively sucked on it, just as she would suck on his cock.
His pelvis moved with slow strength, his cock stroking inside her with careful deliberation, as if making certain that each millimeter of her passage knew that he was there and could feel the shape of him.
He thrust his tongue against hers, matching the rhythm to his hips, his movements agonizingly slow and careful. Emma felt her hunger for him grow anew, and she rocked her hips against him and sucked furiously at his tongue.
Russ grasped her hip with one hand and held her still, forcing her to accept the agonizingly slow motions.
Emma could stand only one thrust more, and before he was seated to the hilt she felt herself tip over the edge, orgasm throbbing through her. She could feel him moving back against her G-spot, could feel the clenching muscles at her opening try to grip him, could feel the pull of his movement against the hood of her clitoris.
"Russ," she cried softly, "Russ, I can't stop."
He thrust once more, quickly, and then she heard the moan deep in his throat and felt the pulse of his own orgasm join hers. His body was hard as stone, pi
A moment later she heard the soft snort of his snore.
Emma felt tears trickle from the corners of her eyes, seeping down into her hair. They might have sex a time or two more, but in her heart she knew that tonight was the begi
Chapter Eighteen
Emma violently speared a clam on her fork and ate it, chewing viciously.
"What is it?" Russ asked. "Emma, you've been quiet all evening. What's bothering you?" There had been a quiet tension to their nights together since the contest event two weeks ago, but nothing like this. Emma had been subdued since his arrival. He'd tried to give her time to say what was bothering her, but plainly this was one of those times that she needed to be asked.
Emma speared another clam, then dropped her fork onto her plate and her face into her hands.
"Emma?"
"I'm okay," she mumbled, and heaved a heavy sigh. She dropped her hands, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I was offered a job today."
Russ's gut sank to the floor. So soon? He'd thought they'd have a month more, at least. "Which firm?" he asked hoarsely.
"Mary Beeton and Associates. It's smallish, but I like her and I think I'll learn a lot from her and her staff. I won't be an anonymous intern doing grunt work. I'll be a known intern doing grunt work."
"Congratulations."
Emma's mouth turned down at the corners. "I should be happy. I am happy. Happy happy happy. Wee hee, look at me."
"I wish you'd told me sooner. We could have gone out to celebrate."
Emma plunked her elbows on the table and covered her eyes with her hands. "I don't want to celebrate. I want…"
His heart thumped. "You want…"
"More time." She dropped her hands and looked at him hopefully. "We could have a little more time, couldn't we? I don't start for a week."
A reprieve. Did she find it as hard to contemplate goodbye as he did?
Might she possibly want more from him than this? Tonight was his last chance to find out. "Emma-"
The door intercom buzzed, interrupting him.
"Were you expecting someone?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Maybe they buzzed the wrong apartment."
It buzzed again.
Scowling, Emma rose and headed to the door.
Should he even ask his question or was it unfair?
"Hello?" Emma said into the intercom.
Russ couldn't make out the response, distorted by the electronics, but after a quick, helpless glance at him, Emma buzzed the caller in downstairs.
"I'm so sorry," she said, her hands clasped and distress on her brow. "It's Daphne. Her boyfriend kicked her out. I told her I'd always be here if she needed me…"
"You don't have to apologize," he said, silently consigning Daphne to the lower reaches of hell. "I understand."
"What were you going to say to me, before she interrupted?"
He shook his head. "I should go," he said, standing. "Daphne will need you to herself."
"Russ," Emma said, grasping his arm. "Don't go. Not yet. This can't be good-bye, not like this. I'll settle her in and then… maybe we can go for a walk or something."
The door buzzed.
"Stay?" Emma pleaded. "Please?"
He couldn't refuse the look in her eyes. He nodded.
Emma dashed to the door.
There was a fluster of female drama in the foyer and he waited it out, his discomfort rising with each weepy, high-pitched sound from the unseen Daphne.
The hysterical voice was suddenly silent. Russ turned around and saw Daphne in the living room.
"Daphne, you remember Russ," Emma said.
"Of course."
Russ held out his hand. "Nice to see you again."
As if automated, Daphne shook it. She turned to Emma. "Am I interrupting? I'm interrupting, aren't I?" She looked around the apartment and noticed the table with its half-eaten meal. "Oh God, you were having di
"Don't be silly," Emma said. "Sit down, will you? Are you hungry? Would you like some wine?"
Daphne looked again at Russ.
"Please, stay," he said, knowing he could say nothing else.
"Are you sure?"
He nodded.
Daphne's lower lip trembled.
"Wine?" Russ asked quickly, hoping to forestall the incipient emotional outpouring.
Daphne nodded, looking miserable, and plopped down onto the futon.
Glad to have something to do, Russ headed to the kitchen for a fresh glass.
Then someone knocked on the apartment door.
Russ halted, not sure he'd heard it.
The knocking came again, more firm. "Emma?" a man asked.
Russ turned around and met Emma's eyes. She shrugged and shook her head. "Maybe it's Derek? Daphne, did you tell Derek where you were going?"
"No!" Daphne squeaked. "I hope he thinks I got run over by a truck and am lying on a highway somewhere, and that he'll feel guilty about it for the rest of his life."
The knocking came again.
Russ, could you get it?" Emma asked, wrapping her arms around Daphne, who promptly fell blubbering onto Emma's chest.
Maybe he could make an escape while he was at it. He went to the door and pulled it open.
Kevin stood staring at him.
"Kevin! What the- What are you doing here?" Russ asked in surprise.
"I'm confirming my suspicions-that's what I'm doing here!"
Oh, shit. "Which suspicions were those?" he asked coolly.
"Fuck off, Russ." Kevin pushed past him into the apartment, and was brought up short at sight of Emma and Daphne on the futon.
"Kevin? What are you doing here? How did you know I lived here?" Emma asked in surprise.
Daphne's face appeared over Emma's shoulder, eyes and nose red, hair mussed. "Christ! Who's here now?"
"I-" Kevin started.
Daphne huffed out an angry breath and got up, dashing for the bathroom, casting an evil glare at Kevin.
"I didn't mean…" he said to Emma.
Emma shook her head and stood. "Bad timing. I really prefer to be phoned before someone drops by, if you don't mind. How'd you get in the building?"
"I followed behind someone. I wasn't sure you lived here; it was just a hunch. I had to see for myself."
"See what for yourself?"
Kevin looked from her to Russ. "Had to see that my friend had betrayed me in the worst possible way."