She had a hard time sleeping that night. Every time she closed her eyes, her thoughts immediately dipped into the gutter. Or rather, of the guttural sensations that had burned through her mere hours prior.
She’d tried to busy herself when she’d gotten home. She’d made a grocery list, went for a walk, slept, tried to figure out if she could afford Wi-Fi, and had even attempted to cook something with the minimal food she had rotting away in the fridge. Yet every single time she had a moment to herself, her stomach clenched and her throat began to moisten.
She flipped onto her stomach, hoping to bury her head and her thoughts into the pillow. But she groaned as the pressure on her stomach from turning over only reminded her of when he’d pushed against her. She could still feel him against her, hot and thick. His breath against hers. Her face flushed immediately, her absent hand trailing to the back of her head where he’d pulled her hair back.
God, what was she doing? She had a date with Clayton tomorrow, and here she was, vividly replaying the smutty little make out session she’d drowned in with Hunter hours ago.
She couldn’t believe how things had escalated either. One moment, she’d been brushing up the glass, and the next…
She groaned, as it replayed yet again in her mind. She knew for a fact, that Hunter wasn’t obsessing over this as much as she was. He had been so impassive, cool, calm and collected moments after it had happened that imagining him up at night, thinking about the way she’d groaned against him, was absurd.
Or was he?
She scoffed as soon as the thought had entered her mind. Yeah, no.
Closing her eyes, she tried to count jumping sheep to help settle her restlessness. When she’d reached 47 baa-ing fur balls, and still felt like she was ready to tremble at a stranger’s touch, she turned around in a fit of frustration.
She’d allow herself this, but only once. She needed to let it all out, and then she’ll be back to normal. It was clear to her, as clear as day that this could never happen again, and she needed to find a way to be less strung up.
She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath. She hadn’t done this in a while, mainly because her life had taken a U-Turn and had been heading south for so long, but it was about time. Especially with the circumstances considered. With that thought, she allowed herself to think back to how it had felt against her, so hard and hot…
She let her imagination wander, thinking back to the afternoon and what might have happened had Hunter’s brother not interrupted.
He’d have smoothed his hand around to her front, slipping his fingers underneath her shirt to rub his hot skin against her bare stomach. She would have whimpered, pulling back, but he’d have pulled her closer to him, deepening the kiss.
Emma let her fingers slip past down the waistband of her pajamas, and past her polka-dotted panties. She knew she was already wet. It was a side-effect she’d been trying to ignore for the past little while but it ugh it felt to finally satisfy the aching, throbbing need that had been bothering her for the entire day.
She imagined him unzipping her pants and hastily pulling them down her legs. Before they even had a chance to hit the floor, he would lift her up and drop her onto the kitchen counter, spreading her legs so that she straddled his hips.
She pushed a finger inside of herself, her body humming in sweet satisfaction.
Before he thrusted again, he would run his hands up to her breasts where he’d pinch her nipples. Not so hard that it was painful, but hard enough that it was painfully sweet.
She bit her lip, her breathing becoming heavier. She pushed her finger deeper, trying to fulfil a need that seemed to be deepening the more she tried to satisfy it.
Emma was so lost in her fantasy, and the increasing, sweet, ache that was building up inside of her, that she missed it the first time.
It was only when she heard the doorbell ring again that she stopped entirely.
Any and every last bit of fantasy that she’d immersed herself in dissipated immediately. She snapped her pajamas back in place and sat up, confused as the doorbell rang for a third time before the house went completely silent.
It was nearly 11PM, who would be here at this time?
Still a little flushed from her personal workout, she slipped off the bed quietly and slipped on a sweater as she moved to the hallway. Her house was still under surveillance – she’d seen the police officer on her way in, so it couldn’t be anybody that seemed threatening since they would have been stopped. But why would anyone want to see her at 11PM at night? Nobody but about four people knew her personally in town, and everybody else could give two shits about her.
Feeling a little alarmed, she made her way downstairs regardless, grabbing a sweater on the way to pull over her head. She paused in front of the door to peek through the eye-hole, but seeing nobody, furrowed her eyebrows.
Well, this was strange.
Wondering if they’d just left since she’d taken so long to, ahem, finish her business, she unlocked the door and swung it open.
Her eyes immediately flew to the package on her doorstep, a brown little box that hadn’t been there before. Filled with instant curiosity, she leaned out to see who had left it.
The front porch and the short little driveway were completely empty. Seeing the police car parked right by the curb outside, she crossed her arms against her chest to provide some warmth, before heading over to the car.
When she approached it, she leaned down to wave at the police officer but stilled as he saw he was leaned back in his chair, fast asleep.
All the curiosity that had just filled her mere moments ago was immediately replaced with dread.
Somebody had waited for the police officer to knock himself out before leaving that package on her front doorstep – which meant, someone didn’t want themselves to be seen.
She exhaled deeply, trying to settle her nerves.
She was strong. She wasn’t going to let some dipshit, vengeful whatever-they-were, scare her away because of some grudge they had against her father.
Emma hesitated. Should she wake up the cop?
But then she’d feel so silly if there was nothing inside.
But – whoever had come by had made the effort to ring the doorbell. There was definitely something inside.
Groaning, she turned back and headed to her front door. Paranoia buzzed in her system but she refused to let her cowardice show. Not allowing another moment of doubt, she picked up the package which was oddly heavy and then brought it inside.
She found a knife in one of the kitchen drawers and she quickly did some work of the tape that sealed the borders.
The cardboard creaked as she peeled open the flaps, and as soon as she opened it, the smell hit her.
When she saw what was inside, her stomach turned. The reaction was instantaneous. One moment, she was looking in and the next, she was throwing up on the kitchen floor.
And then she called 911.