Unrequited - 5. Unrequited

Unrequited

Emily sighed and pulled down on her skirt. Normally she liked her skirts short but she was going out with Samuel tonight and she didn't want him to get jealous of her showing off a lot of leg to other guys. Though sometimes she wouldn't mind if he at least got a little jealous. Jealousy excited her, made her feel special, but Samuel never seemed to get that way.

Emily frowned and then pulled her skirt back up a little bit. Maybe a little jealousy every once in a while wouldn't hurt.

Anthony came bounding down the stairs, in a pair of shorts and a wifebeater, in an oddly cheerful mood. He glanced at Emily, than frowned. "Pull your damn skirt down for Christ's sake, I can see your thong."

"Good, then Samuel will be able to as well," Emily answered, rechecking her makeup in the hallway mirror. Anthony came up to her and gave the hem of her skirt a sharp pull, bringing it down to mid thigh level. Emily tried to slap his hands away, but Anthony moved deftly out of her grasp. He reached out and stole her Blowpop right out of her mouth and stuck it in his own before sauntering out of the room.

Emily sighed in irritation. "Jerk," she muttered, pulling anxiously on some wayward strands of hair. The doorbell rang and she picked up her purse, went to answer the door. She smiled at Samuel as she reached up to embrace him and pulled his head down for a kiss. She looped her arms around his neck and held him down when he normally would have pulled away, drawing the kiss out.

"Get a room you two," Anthony said, re-entering the room. Samuel pulled away from Emily as if he had been burned and Emily rolled her eyes in irritation. Count on her brother to ruin the moment.

Samuel hugged Emily again, pulling her to his chest so she couldn't see the way his eyes raced over Anthony's bare legs.

"Come on," Samuel said, his voice slightly husky with arousal. "Let's go."

Samuel started the car and had pulled onto the main road. Emily shifted and placed her hand on Samuel's thigh, a bit higher than was really appropriate. "Sam?"

Emily was the only one who called him that, and he let her even though he secretly hated it. He would let Anthony call him Sam if he wanted, but only him. But since it was Emily and one of his goals was to keep her happy, he didn't say anything about it.

"Hmm?" he asked. Thoughts of Anthony and images of his legs were still burning in his mind and that combined with the soft pressure of Emily's hand were building his arousal, making his pants uncomfortably tight.

"Um...how badly did you want to go to that concert?"

"Why? Do you want to do something else?" Samuel asked. Personally he was not too keen on the thought of having cheerful pop blasted into his eardrums at a level that would cause hearing damage and if Emily wanted to do something else, that was fine by him.

"Yes. I want to go to your house."

Well, maybe not that.

"My house." Samuel repeated carefully.

"Yes. I didn't get to see much of it at the party. And I want to spend some time alone with you," Emily said.

"You do?"

"Yes." The hand slid up this thigh even further, fingers applying gentle pressure. "Is that all right?"

He would deny Emily nothing.

"That's fine."

Twenty minutes later he was on his bed, kissing Emily. She had his shirt open, her pale, tiny hands on his chest. She was straddling him in her too short skirt with her bra on, delicate lace screaming for his hands to touch. He could smell her, everywhere, perfume and the sweet powder smell of her makeup. Somewhere, under all those layers, there was a smell that was just her--a deep, sexual smell, metallic and sweet like acid dipped roses that burrowed deep into his mind and hooked itself there.

He gasped against her mouth, struggling for air underneath the scent of her. His hands, desperate for purchase, came up to grasp at the back of her thighs. Apparently this was a good thing to do, because she moaned and rocked up against him, pressing herself against the hardness in his jeans.

"Samuel," she whispered. "Touch me, please."

Samuel slid his hands up her back, fingers light and tentative as they brushed against the fastenings of her bra, sliding his finger gently under the strap. He glanced up at her to make sure it was okay before unhooking it, sliding it down her arms. She bent down to kiss him again and he rolled over, pinning her underneath him against the mattress. She rolled her arms over his neck, pulling him down, holding him down, kissing him. When he pulled back up to look at her, she blushed and seemed to shrink into herself shyly. Tendrils of doubt crept into his mind, making him think that this was not a good idea despite Emily's enthusiasm. He pulled away and stared at her, fixing his gaze on her eyes instead of her lips or her flushed cheeks.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked. "Is this what you want?"

Emily nodded. "Yes...I want this. I want it to be with you. I-I love you."

God, he wished she hadn't said that. Anything but that. He kissed her again; let his lips travel over her body. She was moaning and arching underneath him, saying his name breathlessly. It should have been sexy but all it did was increase that tight ball of worry in his stomach, making him as sick as he was aroused. He felt like he was suffocating as he continued to touch her and taste her skin against his mouth. He just wanted it to be over with. He started pulling at her skirt impatiently; reaching for the condoms he kept in his room. He had bought them for when Anthony came over and everything that had happened in this room had belonged to him and Anthony and just the two of them and now he had to share it with her and it made his chest tight and his stomach coil. And then he forgot everything and was pinning her down. Her eyes were wide and scared and not quite ready but he didn't care. She had asked for this. Then he was just thrusting, into that heat, that slick tightness that was her. She was whimpering and biting her lips and holding onto him desperately. Tears were running down her face and she was sobbing and he didn't understand why. She was still clutching him, thighs against hips, arms around his neck, her whole body wrapped around him as he continued to pump into her, feeling her heat and smelling her sex and tasting the sweat on her skin.

His orgasm was almost painful as it ripped through him.

* * *

Anthony was up in his room when Emily came home. He saw the wash of headlights against his window and noted the time with confusion. He thought the two of them were going to a concert...she shouldn't have been back home this early.

Curious, he stood up from his desk where he was doing his homework and walked out into the hallway, encountering a subdued Emily as she was making her way up the stairs.

He stopped for a minute, blocking her way at the top of the stairs, studying her. She refused to look at him. "Move," she said. "Please."

Raising his eyebrows, he started took a step back, intending to let her go. She obviously was not happy and he really wasn't in the mood to tease her anymore. But then he caught her scent and stopped.

He knew Emily's scent, had caught a whiff of it often enough when he was pulling her out of the door of an inappropriate situation or bringing her close to tell her something he didn't want anyone to hear. Usually when she came home from a date she still had a bit of Samuel's scent lingering, mixed with her own, but not like this. This time she was saturated in his scent, mingling with hers so strongly that for a moment he looked around stupidly, almost expecting to see him.

Underlying that were the harsher, cruder scents of blood and sex, and as he glanced at Emily's shiny, tearful eyes, the truth found him, slammed past his defenses to pummel him in the chest with it's awful certainty.

"Em, baby, what did he do to you?" he asked softly, anger quickly dissolving away the shock. "What did that bastard do to you?"

Emily gave him a tight lipped, watery smile. "Nothing that wasn't consensual, don't worry," she replied. "I'm going to go take a shower."

Anthony grabbed her wrist as she swept by. "What did he do to you?" he said, his voice hard and firm.

"Let go of me!" Emily screamed with such strength and shrillness that Anthony was taken by surprise. He relaxed his grip and Emily pulled herself free. She ran into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her, letting the lock click into place, keeping Anthony and the rest of the world outside so she was able to be alone with her tears and the scent of Samuel all over her.

Anthony stood outside the bathroom until he heard the shower turn off. He went downstairs, made a cup of tea and brought it upstairs. He opened the door of Emily's room; saw her curled up in a chair near the window. She was in a sweatsuit from Victoria's Secret, her face scrubbed clean and her dark hair hanging wet down her back. She wiped her hand across her face as Anthony came in, sniffing wetly. She took the tea as he held it out to her, taking a small sip.

"Thanks," she said, her voice hoarse and scratchy. Anthony sat down on the corner of her bed.

She glanced at him and took another sip of her drink. "What?" she asked. "Waiting for the opportunity to tell me how stupid I am?"

"No," Anthony said. "I suspect there will be opportunities for that later. Are you okay?"

She shook her head. "No, not really."

"Did he force it? Tell me the truth, don't feel like you have to protect him."

"He didn't force me," Emily bit out, then rubbed her hands against her face. "Maybe it would have been better if he had." She chuckled coldly. "I didn't want it. I didn't want to go that far. I didn't want to but I was too scared to tell him no, too scared to tell him to stop. And he asked. He asked and I said it was okay because I just...I just wanted him to like me."

"Emily," Anthony said softly. "You always have the right to say no. Always."

"But-"

"No means no. Everyone understands that. I never touch someone who says no. Neither would Samuel. But you need to say it."

"It's not that easy," Emily whispered. "You don't understand how I feel about him. I'll do anything to keep him, anything he wants. I love him Anthony."

Anthony couldn't think of anything to say to that, so he just sat there in silence while his sister finished drinking her tea.

* * *

Samuel knew he had fucked up. He had fucked up big time. That had been a mistake, a stupid mistake and one that he sure as hell couldn't go back and fix.

He knew it was a mistake the minute he saw her tears and the way she had sobbed. Had seen it in the way she refused to look at him afterwards.

He lay on his bed, made up with fresh sheets, the blood spotted ones from earlier in the washer, washing away the signs of what had transpired there. He had been terrified when he had first pulled out of her, seen the blood all over the condom. He was scared that he had broken something inside of her before the more frightening realization that he had just taken a virgin sank in. Anthony had told him that his sister was a bit promiscuous; he thought that she had at least been experienced.

God, Anthony was going to kill him. He was crazy to even think of sleeping with Emily, much less being her first.

He bit his lip nervously, thinking. What to do now...what to do?

Deal with Emily first. He owed her that much after what he did. Deal with Anthony later. Fix what he could and deal with the rest. He would have to figure out some way to make this work or he would lose everything.

* * *

Samuel fell to the same stand-by with Emily that his mom did when she wanted to say sorry but didn't know how--he bought her a present. For Emily, it was a necklace, featuring a delicate silver butterfly hanging from a thin silver chain.

He heard nothing from her the rest of the weekend and he let her have her space. He approached her Monday at school, his heart in his throat and the box heavy in his pocket. She saw him approach and waited, watching him, her expression neutral but her body language definitely nervous.

"Hey there, my beautiful dark eyed lady."

"Hello," Emily said softly, looking down at the ground. Samuel debated whether or not it would be wise to touch her and settled for gently placing his fingertips on her chin. When she didn't flinch away, he tilted her face up to look at her.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" she said, too brazenly.

"I just...I'm so sorry. If I had known that it was your first-"

"Stop," Emily said, her voice hushed and strained, her face turning red. "Not here, please."

"Okay. Okay, I'm sorry. I-" Shit, he was really messing this up. With a sigh, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the box. The jewelry shop had wrapped it for him, in fancy gold paper. "I got this for you."

Emily glanced at him, her expression hard to read. Surprise, maybe, mixed with something else...worry, distrust, nervousness, perhaps. She unwrapped it, ignoring the ringing of the school bell and the rapidly emptying hallways. She let the wrapping paper drop to the floor and opened the box. She stared at the necklace for a few long seconds before smiling slightly. Samuel felt the tight muscles of his stomach relax slightly as he saw her eyes soften.

"It's beautiful," she said, picking it up out of the box.

"So are you," Samuel said, feeling a sudden flash of inspiration. She directed her smile at him. He took the necklace from her hands and hooked it around her neck. She looked down at it resting below her collarbone and touched it with her finger.

"Thank you," she said, drawing herself up onto her toes to kiss him. "I'll see you after class, right?"

"Sure thing. I'll be there."

"Okay," she said softly, smiling again. "See you."

"Bye," he said, watching her disappear down the hallway before picking up the wrapping paper and heading towards his own class, where he would be tardy. He knew now where he stood with Emily at least, but in all honesty, she was the least of his worries at the moment.

He still had Anthony to deal with.

* * *