Something About Emmett (Billionaire Romance) [COMPLETED]

Chapter 24 - Something Like That

I woke up under a bundle of sheets, smooth as silk against me. Groggily I opened my eyes, and knew without looking that he was not in the bed beside me.

I walked slowly to the bathroom and cleaned, washed, and brushed until I felt human again. Gingerly my hands reached down my body and to the spot he had taken, noting with a flutter of nerves the soreness in the tender skin. My body was naked in the mirror above the sink. I examined myself, my skin and my face. I looked like me, but my body was flushed a soft shade of pink.

Once outside the bathroom I began to look around me for my clothes, but I noticed that a bathrobe was hanging against the bedroom door that would lead to the hall, with a small sliver of something white sticking out from the breast pocket. I went to it, taking it into my arms and feeling the cool smoothness of the black silk fabric. I took out the white sheet, a piece of paper with my name written in his hand. It had changed with time, becoming neater and clear. Precise.

I let the robe slide over my body and tied it securely around my waist, then walked out of the room. I did not know if he had left earlier in the morning to do last minute management in the hotel, or if he was here, but I did know that I needed coffee. He was there when I reached the kitchen, pouring himself a cup with his back to me. He was wearing the same sweatpants he had worn late last night, and his torso was bare. The muscles of his back were in full view for me, bunching and releasing with the slightest movement that he made.

I walked slowly to a cabinet, taking the first mug I found. His eyes were already on me when I turned toward him and the coffee machine.

"Good morning," he said, stretching the coffee pot out to me. I moved the mug toward him and watched as he poured the dark, fragrant liquid.

"Morning," I said, and looked down at the mug as I began to drink. "Is there breakfast?" I asked, avoiding his eyes.

"No."

"I'll make some." I was already moving when he took my arm with one hand and my mug with the other, placing it on the counter beside us.

"Why can't you look at me?" he asked, taking his free hand to angle my face toward him. He was gazing inquisitively into my eyes, unrestrained as he watched.

"I can," I said, looking directly at him to make my point.

"Yeah, because I brought it to your notice." He paused. "Do you regret it? Do you regret last night?"

I took a sharp breath, my heart beating ferociously against my chest at having him so unexpectedly mention what we had done. "N-No. Not at all. Do you?"

He shook his head in disbelief at me. "Why would you think that, Julianne?"

"I didn't find you there when I woke up."

He let out a low, humorless laugh. Then his hand left my face, moving to brush his fingers over my neck. "I didn't want to wake you. And if I stayed there, looking at you, I was going to do just that."

I blushed crimson, feeling my face as it lit with warmth. He watched my skin as it grew pink, and smiled at me.

"Jules," he began, eliminating any trace of humor from his face. "I had no idea. If I had known... Was I rough with you? Did I hurt you?"

My hand went up to his chest instinctively, and I had to comfort him. I had to wipe that look of trouble and pain from his face. "No, it was perfect," I said, shaking my head vehemently. "You were gentle."

It had been perfect. I knew in my heart that it had to be this way. It had to be with him and no other man. The first person to have my body, to teach it, had to be Emmett. I couldn't take the first hot date and scratch off the itch. It wasn't in my nature, and god, I had wished so many times that it had been. I was not stupid enough to feel that it would always be with him, because I could not hurt myself that way, but the first time had always been reserved, whether or not I had accepted the fact before last night. Every short, unsuccessful relationship I had had, every passing fling that I had cast aside and let hang suspended in the air, suddenly had an explanation for failure. I had never allowed that closeness, that intimacy. I had never wanted to, because I simply knew that I had to have him.