For a minute, Nolan thought he was living the dream as Emily landed back in his arms. If this was just his whiskey-fueled illusion, he never wanted to sober up.
"Emily, what are you doing to me?" Nolan silently replayed the words in his mind as his lips traveled from her cheeks to her neck and shoulder, unable to bring himself to stop. But honestly, did he even want to? Obviously, not.
Meanwhile, his hands moved with deliberate urgency. One hand slid upward, entwining his fingers through the strands of her hair. The other hand traveled downward, stopping as it rested on her thighs. In a swift maneuver, Nolan shifted their positions, now moving his body over hers, making it clear that he wanted to control the situation.
"Perfect!" He thought she was everything he wanted, as his eyes studied her face for a few seconds. Truthfully, she possessed an ethereal beauty that ideally fit a protagonist character. It was no wonder the masses easily accepted her in a leading role.
