“How is that possible?” He pulls over and stops. “Your mouth alone could revive any dead engine.”
I have no idea why he thinks my mouth has anything to do with ignition, but then, Emmett always sees something I don’t. That’s why he’s a billionaire and I’m still paying off my student loans. “They’re probably zombie engines.”
Emmett gets out of the car, then walks around and opens the door for me. I realize that he’s parked the car and we’re in front of my apartment building. When did that happen?
“While you were talking,” Emmett says.
“You need to stop doing that. It’s getting creepy.”
“Just part of my hot boss magic. Come on.” He holds out a hand.
I debate a little about the wisdom of taking it because he’s swaying again. Well… I guess he needs me to help keep him upright. The things I do for my boss.
I put my hand in his. The feel of skin on skin sends shivers up my arm. Despite the cool evening air, I start to feel hot. My heart beats quicker. Is my body recalling the sex from last night? Wanting to try a little bent-over-a-desk to see if it’s as good as in the dream?
Please, don’t. I don’t need that right now. Not when Emmett’s here.
I take a deep breath and heave myself out of the car, then smile like everything’s great. “Thanks. By the way, are you okay to drive?” I say, belatedly realizing that he shouldn’t have been behind the wheel any more than me.
“I’m fine. Totally sober.”
Yeah, right. Let’s see you count backward from one hundred! For some reason the idea is hilarious, and I start laughing.
“Are you okay?” he says.
He’s being irresponsible. Must be that man pride. A frat boy from my undergraduate econ class totaled his car after a party once. Apparently he insisted on driving, despite everyone’s objections that he was drunk. He was lucky that the only thing that perished was his Mustang—he hit a tree, and the tree survived—but Emmett might not be so lucky.
I don’t want anything to happen to Emmett.
“I think you should come in,” I say.
“Uh… Are you sure?”
I try to nod, but the attempt makes my head hurt. It was that encounter with Rick. He could give anyone a headache. I decide I should be specific about what I’m offering here so Emmett doesn’t think I’m begging for more sex. Because I’m not. Wanting another great orgasm isn’t begging it specifically from him.
“I’ll make you some coffee.” That should help him feel better. “Give you some water, too. Think I drank all yours.” I gesture at the empty bottle, which is lying sadly in the pretty car. “Actually, lemme get that.” I start to twist and bend.
“No, no, no, it’s fine. I’ll get it later.” Strong hands close around my shoulders and haul me back upright. “Let’s just get you to your door.”
“What’s the lush?”
“You mean who’s the lush? That would be you at the moment.”
“No, the rush.”
“Don’t want you to get sick.”
He transfers his hands, one to my upper arm and the other around my waist, pulling me close and supporting me. His muscles are hard. He must work out, although when would he find the time? But the easy strength I’m feeling didn’t come from sitting around in an executive chair all day.
“Not gonna get sick,” I declare. “I’m fabulous. But you can walk me to my door, heh heh heh.”
Not because I need help, but this way he can’t drive to his place under the influence. Suddenly we’re in front of the elevator. And it’s there! So we step inside together.
“What floor?” Emmett asks.
“Seven,” I say. “Very lucky. Just lemme…”
Somehow my finger keeps missing the button. Emmett reaches past me and pushes it.