Read Online Mirin, Christelle - Emma's Heart (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Christelle Mirin - Free Book Online
Authors: Christelle Mirin
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personality up. She also wanted him there, well, just because.
Thinking of Logan when she stepped beneath the spray of warm water not only made her smile, it also made her hot. Her pussy began to heat when she thought of how Logan had made love to her with his mouth and then taken her from behind when she’d told him she liked to be submissive. She quickly flicked the lever over to cold, dowsing her body if not her thoughts. She soaped up using an herbal soap, hoping Logan would like the scent, and thought about how strongly she felt toward Logan. The emotion that bloomed inside her felt very much like love.
How could she love someone after only one day?
Rinsing until she was squeaky clean, she turned the water off. The water droplets dripped from her body, making a soft, pattering sound in the bottom of the tub as she stood there, very still.
Could it be? Was she in love?
It certainly felt like it. Yesterday had been a fateful day as far as she was concerned. Too much had happened to be called coincidence. Logan had even said as much when he talked about how his day had led him to the park and almost directly to Emma.
With a deep breath, Emma stepped out of the shower, a little less nervous and a little more resolved. Wrapping the towel around her, she stood at the sink and gazed into the mirror above it.
She was thirty-two years old, thirty-three in a little over two months. She’d never been married and hadn’t realized that she liked being submissive during sex until ten years ago when she had met Clay Archer. Once Clay showed her that it was okay to be who she really was, to enjoy sex like she wanted to, life became so much easier. Until she found out that Clay was stepping out on her. It had ended badly.
She pushed Clay out of her mind, memories good and bad, and raked a comb through her hair. Emma decided she didn’t look bad for her age, just a wrinkle here and there and one big scar in the center of her chest between her breasts. Logan didn’t seem to mind, and that was all that really counted.
Logan. She needed to call him to ask if he could go with her this afternoon. She hoped it wasn’t too much trouble for Logan to get off work a little early. She hoped calling him at work was okay. She wasn’t really in his league, after all. But then she remembered he’d said to leave a message if he didn’t answer because he was with a customer so it must be okay to call.
“Where did I put his number?” Emma mumbled as she padded into her bedroom.
Entering the bedroom, she saw her jean jacket from last night lying on the floor by the bed where she had stripped off her clothes and fallen into bed, exhausted. She snapped her fingers. It was in the front pocket. That’s where she’d shoved the piece of paper.
She snatched up the jeans and reached into the pocket. She pulled out some paper and dropped the jacket back on the floor before turning back toward the hall.
As she walked down the hall toward the living room, she unfolded the paper that had somehow gotten all crumpled up from being in her pocket.
Suddenly she stopped and stared at what was in her hands.
There wasn’t one slip of paper—there were two. Clay had also given her his number, she remembered.
Emma bit her lip.
Two white slips of paper with a phone number written on each. No names.
Which one was which?
Chapter Eight
Logan did nothing but shove the papers on his desk into increasingly rumpled piles.
With a huge sigh, he rose from his desk and walked to the water cooler yet again. He couldn’t get his mind off Emma and how they had connected last night. The whole day yesterday seemed otherworldly, deemed by fate. From the urge to leave work early to meeting Emma in the park and Emma, with the way she tugged at her ear and liked ginger ale with cherries, reminded him so much of Christi. He hadn’t put it all together until he had awakened this morning and flung his arm to the other side of the bed and found it empty. It had
Thinking of Logan when she stepped beneath the spray of warm water not only made her smile, it also made her hot. Her pussy began to heat when she thought of how Logan had made love to her with his mouth and then taken her from behind when she’d told him she liked to be submissive. She quickly flicked the lever over to cold, dowsing her body if not her thoughts. She soaped up using an herbal soap, hoping Logan would like the scent, and thought about how strongly she felt toward Logan. The emotion that bloomed inside her felt very much like love.
How could she love someone after only one day?
Rinsing until she was squeaky clean, she turned the water off. The water droplets dripped from her body, making a soft, pattering sound in the bottom of the tub as she stood there, very still.
Could it be? Was she in love?
It certainly felt like it. Yesterday had been a fateful day as far as she was concerned. Too much had happened to be called coincidence. Logan had even said as much when he talked about how his day had led him to the park and almost directly to Emma.
With a deep breath, Emma stepped out of the shower, a little less nervous and a little more resolved. Wrapping the towel around her, she stood at the sink and gazed into the mirror above it.
She was thirty-two years old, thirty-three in a little over two months. She’d never been married and hadn’t realized that she liked being submissive during sex until ten years ago when she had met Clay Archer. Once Clay showed her that it was okay to be who she really was, to enjoy sex like she wanted to, life became so much easier. Until she found out that Clay was stepping out on her. It had ended badly.
She pushed Clay out of her mind, memories good and bad, and raked a comb through her hair. Emma decided she didn’t look bad for her age, just a wrinkle here and there and one big scar in the center of her chest between her breasts. Logan didn’t seem to mind, and that was all that really counted.
Logan. She needed to call him to ask if he could go with her this afternoon. She hoped it wasn’t too much trouble for Logan to get off work a little early. She hoped calling him at work was okay. She wasn’t really in his league, after all. But then she remembered he’d said to leave a message if he didn’t answer because he was with a customer so it must be okay to call.
“Where did I put his number?” Emma mumbled as she padded into her bedroom.
Entering the bedroom, she saw her jean jacket from last night lying on the floor by the bed where she had stripped off her clothes and fallen into bed, exhausted. She snapped her fingers. It was in the front pocket. That’s where she’d shoved the piece of paper.
She snatched up the jeans and reached into the pocket. She pulled out some paper and dropped the jacket back on the floor before turning back toward the hall.
As she walked down the hall toward the living room, she unfolded the paper that had somehow gotten all crumpled up from being in her pocket.
Suddenly she stopped and stared at what was in her hands.
There wasn’t one slip of paper—there were two. Clay had also given her his number, she remembered.
Emma bit her lip.
Two white slips of paper with a phone number written on each. No names.
Which one was which?
Chapter Eight
Logan did nothing but shove the papers on his desk into increasingly rumpled piles.
With a huge sigh, he rose from his desk and walked to the water cooler yet again. He couldn’t get his mind off Emma and how they had connected last night. The whole day yesterday seemed otherworldly, deemed by fate. From the urge to leave work early to meeting Emma in the park and Emma, with the way she tugged at her ear and liked ginger ale with cherries, reminded him so much of Christi. He hadn’t put it all together until he had awakened this morning and flung his arm to the other side of the bed and found it empty. It had
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