The three of them stayed at Speedy's until closing. Emma had sobered up slightly, and she vaguely realized that she and Ryan were wrapped around each other like two creatures morphed together, in a blobbish tangle of limbs. But it felt good, and he felt good, and since she couldn't immediately see any downside to it, she was happy to stay that way.
After everything that had happened between them over the past couple of weeks, she was on the very edge of sneaking her toe over the line to test this whole "relationship" thing. It didn't hurt that every single time he touched her, held her, or even looked at her, her heart started doing gymnastical flips, and her lungs stopped functioning properly.
When they finally untangled and joined Evan, who they found sitting in the truck by himself, Emma was sleepy and happy. She was also, still, pretty drunk, and Ryan had to boost her into the truck so she didn't fall on her ass.
Since Evan was most sober, he drove. Emma slumped against Ryan, and her eyes slid shut, as the humming of the tires on the road lulled her to sleep.
"Why are you so broody?" Ryan asked.
"I'm not broody. I don't brood." Evan replied tersely.
Ryan choked back a laugh so as not to disturb Emma, "Dude, you invented 'broody.' What happened tonight?"
"Nothing happened," Evan bit out.
"Oh... so, Rosie. Say no more, my friend." Ryan chuckled quietly as Evan shot him a deadly glare.
Nothing more was said until they pulled into the driveway at Greta's house.
"I'm going to stay at the house. You want me to take her?" Evan asked, jerking his head in Emma's direction.
"Nah," Ryan was already scooping Emma into his arms, "she's still got her things here." Evan pursed his lips and his brow furrowed. Sensing his reluctance, Ryan added, "Don't worry, I'll take good care of her."
"You better." Evan grunted, turning, and heading toward his grandparent's house.
~*~*~
Once inside, Ryan was faced with an unexpected problem. Emma was not waking up. For the second night in a row, he carried her upstairs, dropped her onto his bed, and slipped her sandals off, before pulling the comforter over her prone form. Unbuttoning his shirt and dropping it on the bed, he left the room to use the bathroom and brush his teeth.
When he returned, he began to shuck off his jeans, but froze when he heard her moving around, and then moan quietly. Afraid she might be going to vomit, he spun around. What he saw, illuminated in a pale shaft of moonlight, shocked him.
What the...
Emma was naked-well, mostly naked. Her own clothes were scattered over the bed and onto the floor. She was nude except for her panties, and struggling to put the shirt on that he had dropped on the bed before he left her alone.
Quickly, he turned away.
"Emma!" he hissed, "What the hell are you doing?"
"I... I'mnm genting dreshed," she mumbled drunkenly. "Whytha he—hiccup—hell are the bunttons on tha wrong shide?" she dropped her hands, staring down at the open shirt in frustration, and then fell back on the bed.
"Dammit, woman! Are you dressed yet?"
All he received in response was another quiet groan, and then she started snoring softly.
"Emma!"
"Wha?"
"Get dressed!"
"I... hiccup... can't get tha bunttons. Help me."
Ryan swore softly, scowling at the dilemma she was putting him in. The first time he saw her without clothes, he wanted her to know it, and he was pretty sure she was not going to remember this in the morning. Raggedly raking a hand through his hair, he considered his options. He could just leave her and sleep in a different room tonight. But given her current state, he was afraid she'd go wandering through the house buck-ass nude. Groaning, he did the only other thing he could think of. Approaching the bed cautiously, he sat on the edge, grabbed her hand, and tugged her into an upright position so he could untwist the shirt from behind her back.
When she was half-way up, she flung her arms around his neck, and leaned her head, as well as some of her other fleshier bits, against his bare chest. His breath hissed out as the skin-against-skin contact sent a sizzling sensation burning over him like water droplets in a hot pan. He gritted his teeth hard, willing his body not to react. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he gingerly tried to push her back into a sitting position, but she moaned again, and her softness slid against his muscled chest, the puckered nubs, raking through his chest hair. Blood rushed toward his groin with the velocity of a freight train.
God, the woman's trying to kill me...
Holding his breath, he squeezed his eyes shut tight, and tried to envision anything except her bare skin pressed against his. He jerked away from their skin-to-skin contact, trying to keep his eyes, and hands, off her rather obvious assets, and very carefully finished pulling his shirt closed around her. She was out cold again, and as compliant as a rag doll, so she barely stirred as he finished maneuvering her about. He breathed a sigh of relief when she was, once again, mostly covered up. He laid her back down, and tried to button the shirt so quickly that his fingers fumbled with the closures several times.
By the time he was done, his blood was pumping hard and hot throughout his entire body, which he had uncomfortable evidence of, throbbing between his thighs. He considered taking an ice-cold shower, but he was afraid if he left her, she would manage to undress once more. He groaned. No way he could risk it—there wasn't enough ice in the world to even contemplate having the self—control to deal with that again. As it was, he had an erection harder than a diamond drill, and twice as painful.
He covered her with the large quilt on his bed, and grabbed a blanket for himself from the closet. Laying down on top of the covers, he took long, slow breaths, willing his arousal to recede. Satisfied that he was once more in control, and there was a sufficient barrier between their bodies, he turned, gathering her against his chest, and let his exhaustion pull him down into a deep sleep.
~*~*~
When he awoke the next morning, Ryan felt her eyes on him before he even opened his. He was a little afraid to face her. He had no idea what she remembered, if anything, from the night before. The last thing he wanted, was for her to think he'd taken advantage. His anxiety built up until he finally scolded himself.
Grow a pair, already. What's the worst she can do?
Visions of sharp objects in conjunction with his more tender anatomy made him wince, but he bravely cracked his eyes open anyway.
Might as well face my doom...
She was on her side facing him, and the moment he opened his eyes, they met hers. Her small, warm hand rested on his chest, right above his heart, and he exhaled the breath he'd been holding. She couldn't be too angry, if she was touching him non-violently, right?
"Morning." He offered hesitantly. She grinned back at him, taking him by surprise.
"Morning, sleepy head," she chirped, pleased to be the first one awake, for once. "This whole taking-me-to-bed-while-unconscious thing is starting to become a habit. And this is a lot of blankets..." she observed with a little glint in her eye.
Is she teasing me?
"Um... yeah, it seemed like a good idea at the time," he coughed.
"Hmm..." her eyes were dancing with mischief, "and these are not the clothes I was wearing last night..."
Ryan turned beet red, his Irish genes betraying him, "Well..." he cleared his throat, "I, uh... you had to wear something, and anyway, you picked them out." She was grinning openly now, watching him squirm.
"It's okay, Ryan." She giggled, and he smiled back warily.
"Wait, what do you mean?" he asked suspiciously. "What's okay?"
"I am assuming I drunkenly disrobed last night." She laughed again, rolling her eyes. "I vaguely remember trying to get pajamas on."
"No shit." Ryan grumbled. "Do you know how difficult it was to re-dress you and behave myself? And why aren't you more suspicious, or hung over?" he demanded as an afterthought.
"Well, for one thing, I am wearing clothes now," Emma replied thoughtfully, "and for another thing, you have us separated by like three huge blankets. Even if you peeked, I trust you didn't do anything. Plus," she added, as an afterthought, "your mother would cut your balls off and feed them to you over-easy." She shrugged. "And I never get hungover."
"I didn't peek." Ryan's face turned the color of a brick wall.
"Not even a little?" she teased.
"Well, not on purpose! It was kind of hard with you practically climbing into my lap," he said defensively.
"It was hard, huh?" she repeated suggestively, and giggled again, while he opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish.
She was enjoying the reversal of their roles far too much. Usually he was the one throwing her off-balance. It made her feel powerful, and a little giddy.
Emma knew instinctively that he wouldn't have done anything. She was starting to believe that he really did want something deeper—he wouldn't be stupid enough to destroy any chance he had with her, just to cop a feel. Ever-so-slowly, he was wearing her down.
Greta's words were ringing in her ears, too. She couldn't live life being afraid of being alone. The fact was, if she lived like that, she would end up alone anyway. The thought of what her Grandma would say to that made her cringe. She had always pushed Emma to live life, take risks-not hide away, afraid of what might happen.
Swiftly she slid out from under the blankets. Before Ryan could blink, Emma had climbed over his still-blanketed body, and was straddling his hips, her bare thighs exposed on either side of him. When he met her eyes, they were wide and hazy with desire. Instinctively, she ground her hips against his, and he hissed out a sharp breath.
"Holy-Emma..."
Before he could say another word, she placed her palms on his chest and crawled them slowly upwards, running her fingertips through his chest hair, as she leaned forward to kiss him. Slowly, teasingly, she ran the tip of her tongue around the masculine shape of his lips, before closing her own soft, full feminine ones over them. It was sensual, and blood was singing through both of their veins by the time she broke away.
Her throat was flushed when she sat back up, and her hips moved almost helplessly, as she stared down at him. His hands came up to grip her thighs tightly, stilling her movement.
"Emma... shit... woman, you have to stop that."
"No." her voice was husky and low, and sent a charge of pleasure zinging down his spine. "No stopping, Ryan."
Her hands moved to the buttons of the shirt he'd put on her the night before, and she slowly undid them, one by one, from the bottom up. His eyes were riveted to her. Following her fingers as they pushed each button out of its respective hole, revealing her bare skin, inch-by-inch. When she only had two buttons left—the most important ones—he grabbed her hands, ceasing their movement.
"Em, stop." His jaw was clenched tight, and his voice was strained, "Em, I need to know how you feel about me."
"Well... I want you..." She looked at him a little incredulously. He really does have a thick skull...
"Yeah, I got that much." His voice was tight. "I mean... God! I mean, I'm in love with you, Em. Not just want—love." He took a steadying breath as she lost hers, "If you can't say the same, I will wait for this until you can. When we make love for the first time, I want to know we both feel the same way."
"How long?" she whispered.
"Probably as long as I've known you," he returned quietly, meeting her eyes unflinchingly. "But this is no little boy's crush anymore, Em. This is real: like, I-want-to-marry-you-and-have-babies-with-you-someday love."
She forgot to breathe.
His words—God—the conviction in his voice... the fucking way his eyes were boring into her when he said those words... They snaked their way inside of her ribcage, slithered into her chest, and constricted around her heart, seeking to find a home in her soul; to be an inseparable part of her.
It was thrilling, exhilarating, to be the sole subject of this man's love and desire.
She wanted to say the words he needed to hear, but they just wouldn't come.
Why wouldn't they come?
She didn't know.
It wasn't difficult. "I love you." Simple. Should be easy. But the words froze in her throat, and she couldn't get them out.
"I—I..." She opened and closed her mouth helplessly, "I can't," she whispered. Her eyes filled with tears of frustration, and she avoided his gaze. She didn't want to see the hurt reflected back from her rejection.
"Em-darlin', look at me." She kept her eyes closed, her body was frozen on top of him. "Emma," he repeated more firmly, "look at me." Hesitantly, she raised her eyes to his, ready to look away, but she didn't see what she expected. "Emma, I meant what I said, you don't have to say it right now. We just can't sleep together until you can."
"We've already slept together," she pointed out. It sounded childish, even to her own ears.
Her sub-conscious was screaming at her. Why couldn't she just say the damned words? She was pretty sure she felt them. Verbalizing them shouldn't be this difficult. It was maddening. What if she couldn't say them, and she lost him? Her gaze wandered over his face—the thought of seeing rejection there, instead of adoration, twisted her heart painfully.
"You know what I mean," Ryan replied, in a no-nonsense tone. "Sex muddles things. I don't just want your body—I want all of you. If you can't give it yet, then we need to wait. Once we cross that line, I won't be able to go back and settle for less. If you don't return my feelings, we'll just end up resenting each other, because I will want more, and you'll feel pressured."
"I want to say it, though," she fretted, subconsciously twisting the buttons of his shirt between her fingers.
"Emma," he grabbed her hands and held them firmly in his, "don't rush it, babe. When it's right, you will be able to say it. We have all the time in the world—I don't go falling in love every day, you know. I promise, I'm not going anywhere. I said I would wait, and I will. No pressure."
"You mean it?"
"I do," he vowed. "I'll wait for however long you need—you're more than worth it."
"Thank you." Inhaling deeply, she offered him a tentative smile. "Keep this up, Cameron, and I'll get there eventually."
He grinned at her mischievously, "Of course, no sex doesn't mean we can't do other things..." Snaking his arms around her waist, he rolled her over so she was lying beneath him.
"Like what?" she asked breathlessly.
"Like..." He dipped his head, nuzzling into the crook of her neck, and nipped at the tender skin, making her cry out softly. He laved his tongue over the sensitive flesh, and then placed a soft kiss over the little bite mark, "this."
"Th-that works," she gasped out. Her blood was heating, and she tried to move against him.
"Uh-uh," he denied her. Pinning her so that she couldn't squirm too much, he ran his tongue lightly along the curve of her neck, and made hot, wet swirls over the sensitive spot under her ear until she moaned. Grazing his lips along her jaw, he finally made it to her lips and enveloped them with his own. His mouth tugged at hers, urging her to open to him as he invaded her sweet, silken depths, causing them both to moan.
One large hand ran down to the curve of her hip, pulling her toward him as his invasion of her mouth became more voracious. She met him, with the same ferocity, taking them both to the very edge of their restraint. All his good intentions were almost forgotten, and he was just considering whether or not the new rule meant he couldn't at least give her pleasure, when the phone rang.
He wanted to ignore it, but it went to voicemail, and then started ringing again. Growling in frustration, he leaned over Emma's flushed and panting form.
"Don't you dare move," he commanded, as he reached across to the night stand to see who it was. "Shit! It's the hospital."
*A/N:
The gaining support for Untethered, is super humbling for me. I am so thrilled that anyone wants to read my work, let alone, loves it!
Thank you for the votes, new followers, and the faithfulness of continuing to read this story.
IMPORTANT: Upcoming, will be some chapters that are definitely mature in nature. In order to comply with Wattpad's content guidelines & be able to rank on the What's Hot list, I have posted censored versions of the chapters in this book, and the uncensored versions in Untethered: The Steamy Bits. I'll have a note at the top of each chapter that indicates which have mature content.
Happy Reading!
Jessa xx
**This chapter is dedicated to _salacious Go check out her profile! Thank you for the support and encouragement, lovely!!