Chapter 290

“So do most of your leggy boobs.” She sulked at him again, big doe eyes that sucker punched him
more, and a little petted mouth that was killing him right now. He couldn’t believe he was contemplating
walking back to his room and stopping this.

“They’re not the same. Not even close, bella. They don’t have the other side to her … That’s what I
mean by “I like you both”. One can’t exist without the other. I wouldn’t like there to be only one and not
the other.” He shrugged being almost completely open about his feelings for her.

“So, you like my split personality? … A lover of the cray cray.” She grinned playfully motioning in circles
at her temples and crossing her eyes. He smiled, that overwhelming affection for her cuteness hitting
him hard and making his mind up for him. He wouldn’t abuse her trust when she was drunk. He loved
her and that meant no breaking boundaries when she was vulnerable.

Fuck you, Carrero, wimp!

He moved another hair from her face taking a last longing look with the intention of saying goodnight.
Every part of his body was yelling at him, but he didn’t care. He wanted her to be able to face him in the
morning and deep down he knew this was not the way it should be between them.

“It’s not split though, there’re glimpses of both versions all the time, just one chooses to dominate … I
see drunk Emma sometimes in PA Emma. When she occasionally relaxes too.” He had lost all his
merriness, sobering up hard and lingering when he should have been walking out.

“Maybe she doesn’t know how to relax all the time,” she confessed with a conspiratorial wink. Emma
couldn’t look anything but gorgeous to him.

“I think she’s scared,” he answered thoughtfully, not sure if it was her he was talking about anymore, or
him.



Was he too scared to try to move things on? Was her being drunk an excuse?

“Why?” She watched him carefully, that sweet inquisitive expression on that flawless face. He stood up,
his hands moving to cross across his chest and moved away from her. Putting distance between them
deliberately.

“Because letting her guard down means she lets go a bit of control and she likes to hold it all together.
Letting go makes her vulnerable, leaves her exposed, and that’s worse than death for her.” His voice
was steady and low, betraying none of his emotion; it’s what he knew about her, but she didn’t know it
was about him too. Moving in on Emma was letting his guard down fully, removing the final barrier
which had kept him safe from complete devastation. Wimping out was about protecting him as much as
her. Protecting his heart from being broken again.

“If I’m vulnerable, people can hurt me … Men can hurt me,” she whispered into the darkness of the
room, sounding suddenly fearful, bringing him out of his own head and that fierce protective instinct for
her coming out to play. Watching her he bent so his forehead met hers and pressed their noses
together, an awkward position for him but as natural as breathing. He wanted to comfort her and make
her feel safe. He would always keep her safe. It took precedence over everything.

“I’d never let anyone hurt you, Emma.” He breathed against her. His hands coming down to hold his
weight on the mattress at either side of her thighs so he could stay leaning over her. Bringing them
close enough to breathe the same air and smell her gentle tropical skin.

“What if you couldn’t stop them?” She suddenly sounded so young and vulnerable and he wanted to
squeeze her badly. He would die to protect her, always.

“I’d always stop them.” He promised with conviction in his voice because he truly meant it. Emma sank
toward him impulsively, looking like a lost child, reaching up so she could wrap her arms around his



neck and brought their foreheads to touch. He wanted to close his eyes at the way she initiated this
cuddle and imprint it to memory, she didn’t often initiate touch at all.

“You won’t always be around,” she said quietly.

“I’m always around if you haven’t noticed,” he said softly, bringing attention to the fact that since he had
met her he had engineered almost a constant presence on purpose. Even before he knew what she
was becoming to him, he had wanted her around him all the time.

He felt her lift her head and tug him a little closer, so their eyes could lock. The most intimate thing
Emma had ever done, and he had to steel himself back in to stop the impulse to kiss her again. She
looked so trusting which only calmed his fire.

“I guess,” she whispered at him.

“Let go, Emma … trust me to look after you … if not long-term, then for these two weeks at least. Trust
me to protect you.” He was almost begging her. He wouldn’t do this drunk but if she was this way
tomorrow, then maybe he would. Sober, he would kiss her if she let him.

“I’ll try,” she whispered, not loosening her hold on him at all.

“Good girl.” His arms came around her, pulling her up to him slightly for a gentle embrace to say
goodnight and leave before he did anything stupid, lifting her from the bed for a full body embrace.

“Don’t say that to me.” She paused mid hold, causing him to halt. Her voice childish.

“Why?” He was suddenly confused at what he had said.

Good girl? What was wrong with that?



“Just don’t …” she said a little more firmly, he smiled in acknowledgment and slowly pulled her the rest
of the way to cuddle her. Dismissing it for a conversation when she was more lucid. Emma snuggled
into him a little too readily, making his body react in the worst kind of way for this given situation; he
had to release his hold or impale her. The sudden release of her body made her stumble awkwardly
and Jake cursed himself internally, reaching to catch her and losing his own footing as his toes hit the
bed leg painfully.

Fuck. Graceful this was not.

He leaned forward too far to try to keep hold of her and somehow completely lost his balance, too
drunk for these kinds of maneuvers and even though she weighed practically nothing he went down on
top of her, nose to nose and laughing like fools at the awkwardness of their ungraceful collapse. His
face was so close to hers and his body fully connected in such an intimate pose that for just a second,
he couldn’t react, his mind a whirling mess of ‘kiss her … don’t kiss her’. He just stared instead like a
dumb asshole and couldn’t foresee Emma lunging at him full force in a flash.

Her mouth connected with his so suddenly that she almost winded him and took a millisecond to realize
that she was kissing him, Emma was kissing him!

Fuuuuuckkk.

His heart somersaulted to his abdomen and sent all manner of craziness inside of him. His mouth and
hers entwined in seconds, moving into the one thing he had wanted for so long and being hit with an
overwhelming onslaught of emotions and sensations all at once. Euphoric tingles and extreme hunger,
losing himself in her taste.

Goddamn, she tasted like peaches and cream and her soft lips and softer tongue were made for
devouring.



She kissed like an angel, a little unsure at first, obviously inexperienced which only made him want her
more. He knew he should stop it, but he couldn’t. The second her lips had met his he was lost to her
and no amount of willpower would drag them apart right now. He was adjusting his body to lean all over
her without crushing her and losing himself into the kiss in ways he had never experienced.

This was love, he couldn’t deny it anymore. The way she felt, what kissing her made him feel. He was
lost with no hope of a comeback after this.

His hands moved to her hair and around her throat impulsively, wanting to hold her to him and claim
her. Softly holding her still so he could lead the kiss, showing her how to mold to him as she found her
way. Her movements became more confident and meeting him flawlessly, he loved the fact that it was
obvious she hadn’t done a whole lot of kissing this way, her inexperience was noticeable, but she was
adjusting herself instinctively to him. She was his perfect pure angel.

God, she was made to kiss him.


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