Dean

EMMA

The elevator ride up to the penthouse is silent. Dean and Levi are both tense, probably worried I’ll burst into tears. They don’t realize I’ve already cried enough over Diablo.

No more. If he wants to play this game, I’m ready. I’ve always loved a good challenge, and this is one game I’m determined to win, no matter what it takes.

Once we’re inside the penthouse, Levi gives me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek before heading off to his room.

“So, um, Ems, where am I supposed to sleep tonight?” Dean asks, sounding unsure.

“The couch isn’t comfortable, Dean. You can sleep in my room with me, but we’re just sleeping,” I tell him, my mind elsewhere. I’m thinking about the day’s events, about Diablo and Crystal.

I’m sure he’s going to sleep with her tonight. Who could blame him? She’s gorgeous, and I left him thinking I was going to sleep with Dean.

There’s a third bedroom, but Dean doesn’t know about it. Honestly, I need someone to comfort me. I decide not to mention the extra room.

“Ems, I can sleep on the couch. It’s no big deal. No one will know,” Dean offers, ever the gentleman, even though I can tell he’d rather share my bed.

“No, Dean, it’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before. We just can’t...you know, do anything more than sleep…” I say.

“Do you want to shower first?”

“No. Ems, you go ahead. I need to talk to Levi first, then I’ll shower. See you soon.”

I head to my bedroom and undress, tossing my clothes into the laundry basket on my way to the bathroom.

I turn on the shower, hoping the hot water will help me forget everything, even though I know it won’t.

Thoughts can be dangerous. They make you imagine all the “what ifs.” I hate it. It leaves you vulnerable.

After my shower, I dry off with a fluffy towel. When I walk into the bedroom, I see Dean sitting on the bed, waiting for me. He’s already down to his boxers.

His body is still as amazing as ever. His muscles flex as he stands up.

“Ems, I’m really sorry about what Diablo did to you. I know you worked your ass off to get him where he is now.

“Levi filled me in on some of the details. Not all of it, I’m sure, but enough for me to get the picture,” he says, sounding sympathetic.

“It’s okay, Deanny. I should’ve known it wouldn’t last. You know me, I always bounce back, and this time I’m going to make sure I get what I want.”

“What do you want, Ems?” It’s a heavy question, and one I’m not ready to answer yet.

“I don’t know, Dean, but I’ll figure it out by tomorrow,” I say, looking down at the floor, feeling a bit defeated. Dean walks over to me, gently lifting my chin so I’m looking into his eyes.

No words are needed; I can see it in his eyes: desire, love, but most of all, pity. I hate feeling like this. I’m stronger than this. I won’t let Diablo get to me.

Looking into Dean’s eyes, I can tell he wants more than just friendship. Ever since our last encounter, he’s made it clear he wants me.

I know I’m not emotionally ready to give him what he wants, but a little kiss wouldn’t hurt, would it?

I reach up to his head, pulling him down towards me, stopping him just before our lips meet.

“Dean, I can’t give you what you need—the whole me, body, heart, and soul—but I can give you a welcome kiss, if you want.”

He gently pulls away from me, putting some space between us.

“Ems, you know I love you, but I don’t want to be your rebound guy.”

He turns and walks to the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him. I wish he’d slammed it. Maybe then I’d feel better.

I slip into my thin strap silk PJ top and matching black shorts, then climb into bed, waiting for Dean. He’s taking a long time in the shower.

He’s probably trying to avoid me, hoping I’ll be asleep by the time he comes out. Finally, the door opens, and out comes Dean, looking sexy in fresh boxers, towel drying his hair.

He looks up and catches me staring at him. I blush and quickly look away, focusing on the TV. I switch off the lights and feel the bed dip as he climbs in.

I still can’t bring myself to look at him. I feel ashamed and a bit rejected, even though all I’d suggested was a kiss.

I can feel him looking at me. I turn to face him, and immediately regret it. He’s propped up on one elbow, staring at me. I swallow hard.

Seriously, this man is sexy. His toned arms and chest could make any woman lose control, including me.

His eyes darken as they roam over my body, confirming that he’s as affected by our close proximity as I am.

I can feel myself getting wetter with every second we spend staring at each other, the sexual tension between us almost unbearable.

I squeeze my thighs together, trying to relieve some of the pressure that’s built up. Damn, we haven’t even touched and I’m already wet and ready to explode.

“I’m sorry about earlier, Ems. I know you’ve had a rough day.”

I put my finger to his lips, showing him that I don’t want to talk about today anymore, never breaking eye contact.

My body is on fire because of him, and he’s the only one who can put it out. I’m too scared to make a move. I don’t want to be rejected again.

Neither of us can look away. The next thing I know, Dean is on top of me. “Fuck it, I need you,” are the last words I hear before his lips meet mine in a passionate kiss.

Our lips move together, perfectly in tune. I gently suck on his lower lip, drawing a groan from him. Taking this as my invitation, I slide my tongue into his mouth, earning another deep moan.

“God, you’re gorgeous. How do you expect me to share a bed with you and just kiss you when you look like a goddess?”

Instead of answering, I pull his lips back to mine, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, pulling him as close to me as possible. His hard-on presses against my clit with a force that speaks of his desire.

“God, Dean,” I moan into his mouth. I kiss him passionately, grinding my hips against his boxers, feeling his massive erection providing the friction I crave.

“God, Ems, I can feel how wet you are. Can I touch you?” I nod before pulling him down, locking our lips together again.

Sliding his hand into my silk panties, he slowly starts circling my clit with his thumb, inserting a finger inside of my soaking wet pussy. The sheer pleasure and anticipation almost make me climax.

“Just like that, Dean. Don’t stop, I’m close.”

He continues his assault on my clit, removing his mouth from mine to trail kisses down my neck, finding my sweet spot with ease. Sucking softly on my neck, he increases the pace with his fingers.

“Cum for me, baby. I want to feel you clenching around my fingers,” he says, entering another finger into my soaking wet pussy, picking up the speed of his fingers fucking me.

That’s all I need; I arch my back, tilting my neck backward, riding out one hell of an orgasm.

“God, baby, watching you cum almost had me cumming in my boxers.”

Still feeling high from my orgasm and wanting more, I try freeing his erection from his boxers.

“I want to be inside you so much, baby, but not tonight. Soon, I promise.”

Misunderstanding completely what he meant, I pull away, but he places himself between my legs, rubbing his erection on my still sensitive clit.

I hate the barrier of his boxers between us, but the heat building inside me quickly makes me forget about it. Moving his hips in a circular motion again, I feel another orgasm building.

“Come with me, baby, I’m close,” he whispers, and I do. I climax again, shouting his name as I do, realizing he is doing the same.

He collapses next to me, breathing heavily, both of us riding out the pleasure of our orgasms. Did we really just dry hump like a couple of teenagers?

“That was amazing, baby. I can’t wait to be buried inside you again.”

“Me too, me too. I just wish it was tonight,” I say shyly.

“You weren’t ready for that yet, Ems. When you are, I promise I won’t hesitate to take you, all of you.”

Getting up from the bed, he grabs a fresh pair of boxers before heading toward the bathroom. I also get up to change my silk panties, which are absolutely soaked with both our juices.

I get back into bed and, when Dean joins me, he pulls me closer to him. Spooning me, he leaves no space between us, resting the palm of his hand on my stomach comfortably, as if we have done it so many times.

“Night, Ems. Sleep, baby, you need to rest before tomorrow,” he says, nuzzling his head in my neck.

I can hear his breathing starting to become regular, evident that he had fallen asleep.

Before I drift off to sleep, I think back to my words and my own thoughts that I am not like Diablo, I don’t jump from one man’s bed to another—but I basically just did, didn’t I?

The irony is, I thought I would feel ashamed. But I don’t.

Am I in love with two men, or did I never love Diablo to begin with?

Then the worst thought of all hit me. Am I more like Diablo than I care to admit?