Authors: Avery Stark
"A chance to make your world beautiful."
"And how do you plan to do that?"
Adam reached down, wrapped both arms around her waist and pulled her in close for a sensual kiss. Their hot, throbbing bodies pressed up against one another.
For a while, they groped each other greedily. All of the tension that had been building up since he arrived was suddenly and dramatically released, leaving both of them to claw at each other like wild animals. Their needs, made obvious by the tangle of kisses and caresses, were primal at the core.
Emily wrapped her arms around his neck. Her eager partner took the cue, reached around and lifted her up off of the ground. In a flash, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling the growing bulge in his pants against the seam of her shorts.
"Oh Adam," she gasped.
Whether or not her mind was ready for an encounter with the chiseled young man, her body was screaming out for more. The tender flesh between her thighs began to quiver, which in turn forced the rest of her body to start shaking. Her breaths, though heavy, came through in spastic fits as Adam bit at her bottom lip.
In the heat of the moment, the painter stumbled backwards when the heel of his sneaker caught against a raised vine. The entangled pair plummeted down onto the ground, leaving Adam on his rear and Emily on his lap.
She looked down at him and wrapped both hands around the back of his head. After one more kiss, she pulled his head down against her full breasts, where he continued to peck downward at an agonizingly slow pace.
Emily rocked her hips over his stiff erection and closed her eyes. The sensation of the denim ridge rubbing against her tender area made a moan escape from between her lips. It was soft, almost a whisper.
Adam ran his hands up the back of her shirt and pulled her in close enough to bury his face in her cleavage. Soon after, he used one hand to jerk down her top. The side seams popped softly as he did so and let Emily's bare breasts caress each one of his cheeks. Her small, pointed nipples quickly found their way into Adam's mouth, where he tickled and teased them with his tongue.
With a powerful thrust of her hips, Emily threw her head back and groaned, "Oh god!"
Her lover's teeth sank down into her aching pebbles just enough to make her cry out for him again.
"Please," she begged and forced his hand between her thighs. "I need to feel you."
He let go of her nipple with a wet pop.
"I will give you anything." His hand crept up between her thighs and pushed aside the fabric of her panties, "Anything you want."
The steady tip of his finger ran through the outermost part of her folds, but it didn't last long. In a matter of seconds, Adam pushed his way inside of her and quickly began to slip in and out.
Between his prodding digits and the hint of drunkenness that had taken hold of her, Emily felt the world around them start to go foggy. There was nothing else then; nothing but the two of them locked in their passionate embrace.
Adam pushed deeper, using two fingers to open her up and massage back and forth. When he moved up far enough, he made contact with Emily's swollen, aching nub. He used his thumb to rock back and forth over it, prompting the moaning young woman to dig her nails into the back of his head and push her slit onto his hand even harder.
Down between Emily's legs, she felt two of her partner's fingers come together and slip into her tense channel in one swift movement. Instinctively, her knees moved apart and she sank down, burying him down to his knuckles.
When she finally looked down and opened her eyes, the sight that greeted her was almost too much to handle. Though it was dark, she could easily make out his lip, which was clenched between his teeth. Further down, her vision became glued to where his light fingers had begun to pound in and out with loud, wet slaps.
"Emily," he whispered.
She rocked her hips once more and answered through gritted teeth, "Yeah?"
"I want to watch you come. Will you do that for me?"
His thumb, which had been resting lazily for some time, moved back up over her aching spot and circled it firmly.
"Anything," she echoed his words from earlier with a breathy sigh, "anything you want."
Adam pressed his thumb down onto her nub and jerked it back and forth, his other two fingers never leaving the inside of her. It was obvious that she was getting close. The pulsing quivers spread out through her folds started to increase with the volume of her moans. The muscles in her lower back tightened and she sat up straight.
"I'm, I'm…"
With one last swipe of the thumb, Emily erupted in a deluge of wails and screams. Her delicate body, though pinned by Adam's hand, bucked wildly against it, forcing every last wave of pleasure to take her over completely. The rippling waves of release, though familiar, had an intensity that she never knew was possible. Her spine shook violently while the frantic beating of her heart pounded inside of her skull.
In the moment, the sound of the last few fireworks was like a distant dream. The dirt below and the trees above seemed like ghosts of a world not meant for them. There was so much more there; so much that couldn't be defined in earthly terms.
As her whimpers of pleasure began to fade out, Adam gingerly slipped his hand away and let her sink down onto his lap in a winded heap. Her heavy breaths, punctuated by the outward swell of her breasts, made her rise and fall over him.
He brushed a pile of her hair out of his face.
"Can we stay here for a while?"
Her faint voice caught him off guard.
"Of course we can." He ran his fingers across her hot scalp and repeated himself in a whisper, "Of course we can."
In the weeks that followed Emily and Adam's spontaneous rendezvous, the pair spent more and more time together, though their growing bond still wasn't enough for them to take things further than they had gone at the Fourth of July party.
Adam, though his degree of concern for Emily bordered on outright love, was torn. He knew that the little bubble that they had created couldn't last forever. There were contracts to fulfill, critics and customers to appease. And, on top of all that, there was the knowledge that he shouldn't go back to New York.
Not if his father was still there looking for him. That, he was certain, was something he wasn't quite ready to explain.
He spent many of those July nights staring up at the exposed beams that ran over his bed, wondering what was going to happen once the dust had settled. Would their steamy fling end up being nothing more than just that: a fling? What if they never even spoke again?
Sometimes, Adam felt guilty for going to Virginia and meeting Emily when her entire world was crumbling. He wondered what all of it was doing to her and how she felt. Was he just making it harder for her to move on with her life?
It was an idea that haunted him.
Emily, on the other hand, came from a place of pure fear. With both her parents dead, it felt like her heart was out there for anyone to smash into little pieces again. Who could she trust? What other surprises did life hold?
Am I doing the right thing?
She sank down into the fluffy comforter that rested over her parents' bed.
It was the first time since the accident that Emily had even set foot in the spacious bedroom. The sheer curtains lining the long windows were pulled shut but still allowed the early morning sun's golden rays to pour through and collect in a puddle on the dusty carpet. Some of that same dust-a lot of it, really-swirled through the air with every deep breath that escaped her lips.
Desperately clasped between both of her hands, a battered and dirty envelope stared back at the broken young woman with what she thought might be a look of contempt. Inside, a stack of legal documents awaited her signature. Once that was done, the Chickweed Inn would belong to her alone, along with a level of responsibility that she wasn't really prepared for.
But what's the alternative
, she thought to herself and nervously flipped the package over between her hands.
The alternative, of course, was to sell everything and move on with her life. In fact, Emily was well aware of the fact that the business was worth enough to let her live comfortably for several years in almost any city. She could go back to California and finish her degree, or maybe she could go to New York with Adam and see what big city life was really like. But while the possibilities were endless, she knew that the guilt of walking away from the Inn would haunt her, regardless of where her feet landed afterwards.
She reached up and wrapped her hand around her father's chain, which she hadn't taken off since it was given back to her.
It was then that she started to cry, though it wasn't a simple case of weeping. Instead, full-blown heaves pitched her body forward and she planted her face in the puffy bedding, barely silencing her mournful wails. It felt as if everything was forcing its way to the surface at once, like a brackish flood of pain and anger taking over her shaking body.
Emily wrapped both arms around her stomach and pressed her face into the bed. Her tears created a soggy mess of fabric that stuck to her cheeks and a damp pocket of hot air that stung her throat every time she gasped for air.
There, in the midst of her sorrow, the sweet scent of her mother's favorite perfume wafted up and filled her lungs. That aroma, unlike any of the others, was so bittersweet that it made Emily groan and close her eyes.
She didn't want to smell her again; didn't want to have to imagine her face. So much rage had been bottled up inside.
"Dad," she whispered, "why did she have to take you away from me?"
Both of her hands grabbed onto the comforter and clenched it into tight fists. The increasing whiteness in her knuckles made the wounds from her run-in with Father Hall visible again. It was a sad punctuation of the moment; a silent reminder of the unseen scars that were tearing away at her spirit.
"H-how could she have done this to us?"
Her voice wavered with the violent sobs that racked her petite body.
"How," she asked again. "How?"
Then, from the sadness came a powerful surge of anger. Emily forced herself upright and let the fist-full of fabric fall out of her hands. The torrent of tears quickly slowed to nothing more than a trickle and her breathing started to level back out.
The misty pocket that she created in the blanket left her face flushed and damp. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen while the muscles controlling her jaw were visibly clenched. The very thought of what her mother had done made her come very close to throwing up. How could she be so dumb, to get behind the wheel after drinking? Was she so selfish that she didn't care about what it could do to other people?
She ran her hands over the top of her steamy head then let them fall limply back onto the bed. The right one slapped down onto the briefly-forgotten package, which she picked up and cradled close to her chest.
"I hate you", she said to a dusty picture of her mother on the nightstand.
After a little silence, Emily licked her bottom lip and ripped the envelope open. Waiting inside were two notebooks, one with a pink cover and the other with a yellow one, and a short letter from the family's attorney, Mr. Seville.
She stacked the pair of books, wiped the tears from her eyes with an open palm and grabbed the letter.
Emily Harper,
Before I get down to business, I wanted to express again how deeply sorry I am about Carl and Caroline's passing. I considered them to be some of my closest friends for a number of years and I can assure you that many other members of our community would say the very same thing. It has been a pleasure to watch you grow, as well. I have the utmost faith that, regardless of what you decide to do, all of this pain will pass and you will be a better person for having struggled through it.
I'm sorry again for your loss.
But anyway, I suppose that I should tell you about the paperwork. Inside of this envelope, you will find two sets. In the one with the pink cover, you have the documents to sign if you decide that you want to stay and take over the Inn's operations. The paperwork with the yellow cover contains the documents you will be signing if you decide that you want to liquidate and walk away. I need an answer from you by the first week of August because I will be going out of town on an extended vacation. Whatever you decide, please know that you are in our prayers. Good luck and take care.
Sincerely,
Martin Seville
Emily rubbed the embossed letter head under her thumb and stared down at the opposing stacks of documents.
"Pink to stay," she said to herself and tapped each cover in turn, "and yellow to go."
She didn't have much time to decide. August would arrive in a little over a week and the autumn's guests would have to be notified of any significant changes caused by her choice.
With a heavy sigh, she threw herself back onto the king-size bed and let her arms fling up above her head, sending the tear-stained letter down onto the ground. As much as she wanted to be furious, her mind suddenly wandered in a different direction.
The position of her body, with both arms above and her back stretched out, made it easy for her to picture the day that her dad taught her to float. If she tried hard enough, she could almost still feel his hands under her back, holding her flush with the lake's rippling surface.
"Relax," he said with a smile. 'Relax and just float."
"It's too hard," she giggled through her missing front teeth. "I can't concentrate!"
"Well why not?"
"Because," she told him, "you're funny!"
Six year-old Emily always had a brightness about her that was infectious. Her already long, dark hair floated around her head in little wisps as Carl helped her stay afloat. The cold water lapped at her face and tickled the insides of her ears.
It was getting late in the day. A brisk breeze was starting to kick up from the North and an endless population of crickets sang out in unison as their homes in the trees swayed back and forth. Up above their heads, the first and brightest stars were already starting to shine against the dimming sky, which went from bright blue to a deep, rich purple in almost no time at all.