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Chapter Thirty-Four

Emma let herself into the hotel room. She was exhausted. Every muscle in her body was groaning for relief. Brian had dropped her off so she could relax while he went to get take-out Chinese food for dinner. They hadn't been able to get married - the license had expired long ago, but they'd reapplied and Brian had managed to talk the girl at the City Hall into fudging up the dates on the paperwork a little bit so that their license would be good in two days time.

Two days and she'd be married to Brian Littrell. The thought sent shivers down Emma's spine. She'd waited for that day for twenty years.

She lowered herself onto the bed and kicked off her shoes, rubbing her feet, gently massaging the arches. She glanced at the clock - the food was going to be 40 minutes, plus Brian would have to drive back to the hotel, so she figured she'd have time for a quick shower. She stood up and pulled the white blouse off carefully and hung it up in the tiny closet, and did the same with the new jeans Brian had bought. She wanted to keep that outfit nice for the day they went back to City Hall. She tossed her hat onto the chair and headed for the bathroom.

In the bathroom, she studied her frame in the mirror. She'd lost a considerable amount of weight even since the last time she'd gone shopping for new lingerie. Her bra, even on it's tightest hook, was loose and she frowned at the pronounced shape of her hip bones protruding from her sides. She felt like she was an Ethiopian child on one of those Save the Children ads.

Save the Emmas, she thought to herself.

Shedding her underpants and bra, she reached for the water faucet and quickly ducked into the shower, humming to herself as she soaped up and the room filled with the minty smell of the hotel-provided body wash. The water felt so good, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, and felt as though she could have fallen asleep right there in the shower, standing up, with the warm bullets of water pelting her back. After along time allowing the water to strike her skin, she turned the water off and patted herself dry. She looked in the mirror at her scalp. A fuzzy layer of dark hair -like a five o'clock shadow- had begun to surface on her head an she ran her fingers over it softly. She pulled her underpants back on and refastened her bra and looked around before she realized she didn't have any other clothes in the room with her. They were hanging in the tiny closet.

She pulled the bathroom door open and walked out into the room to grab her stuff from the closet.

The smell of Chinese didn't hit her nose until she'd already rounded the corner in just her lingerie. Emma froze in place, a deer in headlights, and her heart rate quadrupled in speed. Brian was half bent over the table, the take out cartons of Chinese spread all over the table he'd dragged up to the end of the bed. Brian looked up and his eyes fell on her body, and his jaw dropped. He stood up right, dropping a bag of egg rolls onto the table, his eyes glued to her.

Emma flushed, "I'm sorry I didn't know you were back, I just was getting my clothes and -"

Brian's eyes met hers.

She turned, her hands shaking with embarassment, and grabbed her sweater and old jeans. She dropped the pants to the floor and went to pick them up, but Brian swooped over and down and got them before she did. He rose from the ground, staring into her eyes, and stepped closer, holding out her jeans. A lump rose in her throat. His arm moved to hand the pants to her, and she was about to take them, when he suddenly threw them to one side, stepped closer, and put his hands on the small of her back, pulling her into him. The full length of Emma's body pressed against his, and he leaned closer, pressing his mouth into hers.

Emma gasped into his mouth as he kissed her, his hands sliding down over the curve of her bottom and pulling her up, closer into him. He tasted like the spearmint gum he'd been chewing moments before, and Emma's hands moved to the sides of his face. He hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he turned them, moving quickly and tumbling onto the queen-sized bed.

"Oh," Emma groaned as Brian's mouth slid from her mouth to her jaw to her neck and her collar bone. She reached for the hem of his polo shirt and pulled it up over his head. He paused in kissking her skin only long enough to duck out of the shirt. She had no idea where the shirt landed when she threw it - by that time Brian's mouth was on the orb of her chest, and his hands were moving up and down her sides in a rhythmic pattern. She reached for the button of his jeans and he wriggled out of them, scooping her body up and moving them further onto the bed.

Every touch of his skin on hers was electric and Emma's mind spun out of control, trying to comprehend what was happening. It all seemed so impossible that Brian was here, so close to her, so adamently tasting her skin. She ran her fingers down his spine and clutched his shoulders as he slid his hands behind her back and unlatched the bra. Emma's back arched as his mouth came in contact with her chest and she moaned loudly. "Oh shit," she murmured.

Brian couldn't believe how alive she felt under his touch, how strong the electricity there was. Every move he made, every brush of the skin, elicited such a response from her that he felt almost god-like, like Zeus or Midas and he relished the power that seemed to reside in his fingertips, in his lips. He liked the soft, soapy taste of her skin and the silky smoothness of it. Emma had never disappeared from his memory, as much as he'd tried to forget her over the years, and the excitement and chemistry of their connection was rushing back into the forefront of his mind.

He could remember worshipping the girl. He could remember being unable to imagine a life without her in it. It was like a flood of memory, a revival of unrelinquished feelings and loose ends. She'd set fire to him by standing there - a vision that he'd imagined since he was young but had never seen. Even the night they'd made love in the back of the truck, it'd been dark and he hadn't really seen her body...

Brian hovered over her, their eyes meeting and he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers and slid inside her. She gasped into the kiss and he gently rocked against her, his hands cupping her head beneath the pillow protectively. He disengaged the kiss and watched her face, the curves of her mouth, the fluttering of her eyelids, as he moved rhythmically. She kept her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands clutched his biceps.

"Brian," she moaned, biting her lip.

He kissed her neck.

By the time they'd finished, she was panting and flushed and his forehead was a sheen of sweat. He collapsed beside her and she curled into him, her arms wrapping around his chest and clinging to him, one leg wrapped around his hips. She kissed his chin, his nose, his forehead excitedly. The smell of the cooling Chinese food wafting over them, forgotten, as they fell asleep in each other's arms.