Smut Monday Outtake –Frigidaire
You lying so low in the weeds
I bet you gonna ambush me
Youd have me down down down down on my knees
Now wouldnt you, barracuda?
- Heart, Barracuda
When I accepted the job in London, I thought I would be jump starting my career. To be assigned to such a major project at such a young age was huge. Add on top of that I was an attractive woman, and well, you get the drift.
For the first month, everything had gone smoothly.
And then he had shown up. With his down home charm and dimples so deep you could swim in them.
All the women in the office were absolutely nuts about him. Which in and of itself was a turn off to me. When did I ever want what everyone else did?
But then he had to go and start dabbling. Comments on my parts of the project. Opinions as to how I should do certain things.
He was never obnoxious about it. That was the worst part. He was gracious and helpful, and made the observations out of earshot of anyone else. I could have taken his ideas and passed them off as my own. Anyone else would have.
If he could have just been the typical man, who was constantly ogling my chest and making lewd comments, it would have made it all that much easier.
But he wasn't. He was gorgeous and under all that down home bluster, he was a really nice guy. But that didn't change anything. This was my job, and I was here to do it well. That meant focusing on the prize and not letting his wounded looks faze me when I'd make a sarcastic comment.
I don't know why I cared. I didn't owe Emmett McCarty anything.
Saturday was supposed to be a fun night out. A little flirting, some drinks. A good time.
And then he had shown up. The minute he walked in the door I knew it was fight or flight. I'd turned to Royce in a moment of panic and asked if we could go somewhere else. He had been after me to go somewhere more civilized all night, and it gave me the perfect escape. I didn't stop to think about how I said it or how it came across. I didn't know him well enough to have a thought one way or another, simply that I needed to get out now.
He took me somewhere predictably snooty and uptight. Just the type of place that you go to see and be seen. I came up with some lame excuse about being tired and having a lot of work to do the next morning as soon as we'd finished our first drink. I could tell that Royce would have liked more, but I kept harping on about needing to focus on work, and that I couldn't be hung over.
Sadly, it was true. By ten the next morning I was in the office, elbows deep in technical diagrams.
For three hours I managed to distract myself with numbers and calculations. But around noon my stomach started to growl, a reminder of the fact that I hadn't eaten anything since dinner the night before. A quick pop out to grab lunch, I told myself. Just grab some take out and then I'd dive right back in. I needed to stay ahead, stay on top of my game. Keep the focus, I continuously told myself.
But I never made it out of the building.
Emmett's office was just a few doors from mine, and something draped over the back of his chair caught my eye.
A black zip front sweatshirt.
I don't know what possessed me to do it. Had anyone else been in the building, I don't think I would have.
Darting in his office, I closed the door behind me. His chair was pushed back away from the desk, and I pulled the sweatshirt around me, holding the collar up so I could breathe in.
With my eyes closed, I fooled myself into believing that he was here. That I didn't have to worry about my career or how people perceived me. And if that were the case, nothing would have stopped me from going after him with a vengeance.
I was sure a few times he'd caught me staring. Last week we'd been in a meeting; he had leaned back in his chair, head angled up towards the ceiling as he tossed a wad of
paper up in the air. Every time it descended he'd reach up to snag it, and then lob it back up for another round.
Everyone laughed at his antics. But I was too busy staring at the hint of exposed skin where his shirt had come untucked. There was just a glimpse of color underneath, and it made me wonder whether he was a boxers or briefs type of guy. I had to stop myself when I started thinking about how easy it would be to subtly run my finger along that small bit of skin. Would he be surprised? Could I make him blush?
Would he like it?
I blew out a long breath and pulled the sweatshirt in tighter around me. I was so incredibly attracted to this man that it was mind boggling. That's why I had bolted the night before. I put on a show for Bella, spouting off something about the Redneck being there and not wanting to deal with it. Truth be told, I had enough alcohol in me that I would have been all over him like white on rice, and we would have ended up at his apartment or mine. There was no way in hell that someone looking like that wouldn't be brilliant in bed.
And I'd never been able to resist temptation.
The memory of him in low slung jeans and a tight black t-shirt, combined with the smell of him wrapped around me was too much. I couldn't handle the frustration or the pressure anymore. Keeping the sweatshirt secured with one hand, I let my other hand wander. My body literally ached, and I had to release the tension or I'd explode.
I closed my eyes, thinking of that small flash of skin. I ran my hand along my body, squeezing my breast before letting my hand drop to my hip bone. I wished it were his fingers tracing across my body instead of my own.
Propping one foot on the edge of his desk I let my hand slid lower, under band of the loose fitting wind pants I'd thrown on this morning. I teased myself, sweeping a finger back and forth as shockwaves coursed through my body. Not enough, I slipped a single finger inside, moaning and then gasping at the intensity of the sensation. The intake of breath brought another wave of him coursing through my nostrils, stoking the fire even higher. God, imagine if that were his hand, his tongue…
My other foot found the edge of the desk and I tipped back in the chair, breathing deep as I pushed deeper in. I could feel the spring tightening in my stomach, the release I needed to try and get my head back together.
Normally, I can bring myself to climax in less than a minute. It's all about knowing the right spot and how to hit it. But this was the closest I'd ever get, and I wanted to enjoy what little of him I could get.
I was biting my lip, fighting the need to cry out, to let go when a heard a ding. Two male voices could be heard as they passed the door, rambling on in their proper English accents about permits and budgets.
They were close enough to shake me out of my lust induced haze. What the fuck was I doing? Getting myself off in the office of a co-worker? God, if I'd have been caught I'd have been laughed back to the states on the next flight. My career would have been a shambles.
Quickly wiping my hand on the leg of my pants I dropped the sweatshirt back in the chair. When I was sure they were gone, I slipped out of Emmett's office and tiptoed back to mine.
I needed to get him out of my head or he was going to be my undoing.
I worked until six. A few colleagues trickled in early in the afternoon, which was enough to keep me distracted until I could go home and talk to Bella. She would have perspective. She would help me figure this out.
But luck wasn't on my side, as I could hear laughter as I unlocked our front door. She'd been smitten by some British guy. Maybe she'd finally let go of Mike and was having a good time. Lord knows she deserved it.
But there was no cocky Englishman sitting on the couch on my flat.
It was my fantasy incarnate. With my best friend.
I was wound so tight that I snapped.
"What in the hell are you doing in my flat?"
He launched off the couch, a lock of shock on his face. "Rose? What the hell are you doing here?"
I whipped around to see Bella standing in the kitchen doorway.
"Bella, what is...this…this…Redneck doing here?" I knew that it was cruel and immature to call him that, but it kept the distance, gave me perspective. It kept me from acknowledging him.
Bella's eyes went wide as she looked back and forth between us. And then something seemed to click. She dropped the paper towels she had been holding on the kitchen counter, and headed towards the door.
"I'm going for a walk. Rose, you need to sit down and shut up while my friend from business class says a few things to you."
She grabbed her coat and glanced at him.
"Seize the moment Em. I know you can do it. I'll be back in a bit."
With that, she slammed the door shut behind her.
I closed my eyes, not wanting to hear him say my name. Bella's words kept ringing through my head, 'my friend from business class.' The cute guy from her flight. The one that she flirted with. The one that had asked her out.
He wanted her, not me. It was just the push I needed him to try and get him out of here, away from me as soon as possible, or this would not end well.
Taking a long, deep breath, I turned in the kitchen doorway to face the man that had been on my mind non stop since the day he walked into the office with his baseball hat and down home charm. I wasn't prepared to see the confusion and sadness on his face. He was here because of her, not me. What right did he have to be upset?
"So it's not good enough to have every woman in the office lusting after you, you are taking a run at my roommate now too?"
Emmett stood and walked towards me.
Please stay back, I chanted to myself. Please don't come closer. Please don't give me platitudes about how I'm a great girl, blah blah blah.
"I had no clue that she was your roommate. We hung out; we spent the day together. She's my friend."
"She has the hots for someone else," I snapped at him. It was cruel, and I could see the shock register on his face. Why was I doing this? Why couldn't I let him be happy? Was it because he wanted someone other than me? I couldn't get distracted now; better to let him chase Bella, even if she wanted someone else.
"So do I," Emmett answered softly. "Bella helped me figure that out."
My brain was sending out warning signals left and right. Get him out of here, now.
"What, so you use her to figure your own shit out. You are a bigger jerk than I took you for."
Emmett took a step closer. I kept waiting for him to blow up, to tell me I was a bitch, to storm out.
Instead he reached out to twirl a strand of my hair around his finger.
"You aren't a bitch, Rose. I don't believe you when you act this way. It's not who you are."
A lump was building in my throat. I could feel the panic setting in. Please don't do this Emmett. I don't need you to be a nice guy. Be an asshole. I can't have you in my life right now, please make this easier for me.
"Rose, I can't stop thinking about you. You are everywhere. In the office, in my thoughts. I can't get you out of my head." He was closer now, and I could feel the heat coming off his body. A hint of five o'clock shadow darkened his jaw, and there was a small jagged scar just at the edge of his chin.
I wanted to lick it, to have him rub his chin across my skin so that it would turn red and burn. Burn like the rest of me.
"Leave, now." I spoke the words as coldly as I could.
"Rose, please…" Emmett's hand moved from my hair to my face, his finger grazing the edge of my jaw.
"Stop it! Just stop!" Out of instinct my hand came up in a fist. I wasn't going to swing at him; it was simply a reaction to my frustration and my fear.
He grabbed my wrist, pulling me in closer too him. I raised my other arm to push him away. But he captured that wrist too.
"Why do you push me away? Can't you open up and let me in? I know you don't hate me. You are too good of a person to hate anyone."
His words cut through me. I couldn't open myself up. The thought terrified me. I was afraid that by letting him in, I'd lose myself and everything I'd worked so hard to accomplish. And everything that others inferred about me would be true. Just a pretty face, a trophy fuck. The girl that used her looks to get ahead. No substance or strength underneath.
I'll be damned if I lose myself in a man like Bella did. That's not who I am.
I tried to push him away again, but his grasp was too tight, and he was too strong.
The anger was apparent in his eyes now. The more I fought, the brighter it shone through.
"What the fuck, Rose? What did I ever do to make you hate me so much?"
I didn't hate him, I couldn't. And with that single admission to myself, my resolve, my control, my will to push him away was all gone.
He saw me coming before I could make contact, and was more than prepared. His mouth was wet and warm and god the minute I felt his tongue I knew it was all over. My hands knotted in his shirt, and I held on for dear life as I poured weeks of frustration into that kiss.
He gave as good as he got, darting his tongue in and out of my mouth, teasing then pulling away. He broke away from my mouth, trailing kisses along my jaw and down my neck, before returning to kiss me again. And it felt like heaven, only better.
At some point he released my wrists, which allowed me to wrap my arms around his neck and crush myself up against him.
"Stop being such a fucking gentleman and touch me, god damnit!"
"If I start, I'm not going to stop." Emmett's breathing was coming in hard labored gasps.
"What are you waiting for then? Fucking get to it."
It was all the motivation that he needed. Before I knew it, he had somehow backed me into the kitchen and pinned me up against the refrigerator. He tugged at my shirt and pushed my bra up out of the way.
"Oh fuck," I gasped as he squeezed my breast roughly.
"Soon enough." His mouth replaced his hand and he sucked hard, grazing his teeth across my skin. He alternated hand and mouth, sucking and licking at my exposed breasts.
I awkwardly yanked at the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up so I could get access to that same spot of skin that had taunted me during the meeting. It was just above the waist band of his jeans, and I slipped my hand in between us so that I could dip my index finger below the exposed band of his boxers, tracing his hipbone like I'd done mine earlier in the day.
Emmett grunted in reaction as I slipped the rest of my hand under the waist band.
"You are playing with fire," he warned as I slipped my hand lower.
"No, I am not playing with anything yet," I cooed in as saccharine a tone as I could muster. My hand was low enough now to wrap around him.
I squeezed just enough to be considered rough, and Emmett bucked his hips forward in reaction.
"Find something you like?" His tone mimicked mine. He wasn't going to go down without a fight. Which left me two choices. Go forward or retreat.
Retreat would be the wise thing.
But going forward had the potential to be fucking fabulous.
I knew it wasn't safe to answer. I was playing a dangerous game with a man that fascinated me. A man that I worked with. A man that could put everything I worked for in a tailspin.
And I didn't give a flying fuck.
My right hand was tangled in his hair. I let go and reached out, fumbling for the drawer closest to the refrigerator. There was a box of condoms stashed in there; I'd planned on giving them to Bella as a gag gift when she got to London. I'd forgotten, and they'd stayed in the kitchen drawer. Thank goodness for small favors.
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to get laid, what do you think I'm doing?" I managed to pull the top of the box open and fumbled with a strip.
"Rose, this isn't…"
"Don't you want to fuck me Emmett?" I was playing dirty now. It was wrong, and I would regret it all tomorrow, but today I didn't care. "Because I really want you to fuck me. Right now, right here. I need you inside of me so bad that I can't see straight."
He grabbed the strip out of my hand and used his teeth to rip thru the plastic, his eyes never leaving mine. I pulled my hand out of his jeans and pulled frantically at the buttons. As soon as the fly was undone, I pushed his them down just far enough to pull him free.
Grabbing the open packet from his grasp, I pulled out the condom and tossed the wrapper on the floor. He was staring at me intently, his eyes narrowing a bit in reaction as I slowly rolled the condom on him.
I let go of him and hooked my thumbs in the band of my wind pants, pulling them down with one fell swoop. I worked my shoes and pants off as his hands slipped around to lift me up against the refrigerator.
Without allowing myself time to think. I wrapped one arm around his neck and brought my legs up around his waist. Using my index finger and thumb, I gave him one cursory stroke to make sure the condom was fully on.
I'd not stopped to take into consideration that Emmett might have his own plans as his hand quickly slipped down my stomach.
"Do you know how hard it is to work around you? How badly I've wanted you?" Emmett growled in my ear. His fingers were exploring me now, teasing and probing just like I'd done in his office this morning. He anticipated every reaction, every button, and used that knowledge to push me just to the edge before pulling back.
"This is your last chance. Tell me to stop now, because this is the point of no return."
His free hand tangled in my hair, coiling it around his fist to hold me in place. The tension caused me to tilt my head slightly to the side, so that he could suck on my neck. His other hand continued to tease me, stoking the need in me even higher.
"Please don't stop now." I whimpered as he pulled back. But he had no intention of stopping.
Emmett didn't need encouragement or direction. He lifted me just a bit higher, and slowly pushed into me, letting out a slow labored breath. God he felt absolutely fucking fabulous.
The combination of spending the day sexually frustrated and our confusing work up to this point had me beyond turned on. I wanted to push Emmett, goad him on so that he wanted this just as much as I did. I needed him to want me just as much as I wanted him.
"God you're hard." I tried to move, tried to increase the friction. It was torture feeling him inside of me and not being able to move. "But you are a fucking tease."
"Shut up, Rose," Emmett growled in my ear. He pulled back slightly and pushed back into me, eliciting a low moan from both of us. "Unlike you, I am anything but a tease."
I held on to him, trying to match his rhythm as he pushed me harder up against the refrigerator. My legs were beginning to shake from the effort to hold on to him, to pull him in closer. I could feel an orgasm starting to build, and I pulled him in a bit tighter, grinding into him as hard as I could.
"Oh dear god…." I arched my back away from the refrigerator as he moved me up a bit higher.
Emmett's hand slipped in between us, and he swiped his thumb across me. "Christ, you are so fucking wet. You wanted this as badly as I did, didn't you?"
He repeated the path, pressing a bit harder. And I was gone. I clamped my hand in a fist, digging my nails into my hand so that I didn't cry out. But god did I want to. I wanted to shout his name, beg for more, and sink my teeth in his shoulder. Instead I squeezed tighter, most likely drawing blood in the process.
Emmett groaned and pushed me up against the refrigerator hard enough to hear the bottles inside clank together. I could feel him pulse as he released into me, and his head buried in my neck.
"Why can't I be enough for you?"
The vulnerability in his statement threw me into a tailspin. And I knew I was toast. There was no way that I could stay away from him now. Try as I might, my attraction to him was not going to be denied. I'd want this again. I'd want him again, just like he would want me. And it would only cause trouble.
He held me against the refrigerator for a moment while he caught his breath before letting go of my legs. As he straightened up, something caught his eye, and he snorted a dry laugh.
"Perfect. I fucked the ice queen against a Frigidaire. How apropos."
His eyes bore into mine, but there was no humor in them.
"Just what you'd expect from a redneck, eh?"
Forget trouble. I was fucked. Literally and figuratively fucked. And I really didn't care.
"If that's what you can do against a fridge, what can you do in a bed?"