Unadulterated Something, page 19
“Good to know, Dunn,” Emma chuckled.
“Mine too,” Campbell whispered.
Emma licked her lips as her heart fluttered into her throat at the softness in Campbell’s voice, but the timer on the oven went off before she could formulate a response, and Campbell flashed her a small smile before she turned to check on the dessert.
“Beaver things done?”
Emma cleared her throat. “Yeah. Looks like it.”
“Jordan, it’s been fun. Enjoy your American turkey day, and don’t forget that stretchy-waist pants are your friend.”
“You too, Val,” Campbell called as she moved a sheet pan with three oblong pastries on it from the oven to the stovetop.
“Em, take me off speaker for a second.”
Emma did as asked, and lifted her phone to her ear as she said, “Yes?”
“I know I probably wasn’t supposed to hear what she said just now, but…are you okay?”
Emma nodded as soft, golden hazel eyes landed on her. “Yeah.”
“You still overthinking?”
Emma forgot how to breathe, let alone think when Campbell winked at her before turning her attention back to the dessert that needed finishing, and she shook her head as she admitted softly, “I don’t know.”
“Pretty sure she’d check yes if we were passing notes.”
Emma turned away from the kitchen, feeling suddenly far too exposed. This wasn’t the time or the place for this conversation, but, apparently, it was time and the place where she was having it. “You think?”
Val sighed, and the sound carried no judgment, just a gentle affection that soothed Emma’s racing pulse. “Yeah. I think. But it’s your thinking that matters, so call me if you need help with that.”
“I will.” Emma licked her lips and added, “And, Val…thanks.”
“Always. Tell Becs and Lars that we say hey. And we’ll see you guys tomorrow at their Black Friday movie marathon.”
“I will.”
“And call me if you need me. I mean it.”
Emma smiled. “Okay.”
“Okay. Love ya, Em.”
“Love you too,” Emma murmured as she disconnected the call. She slipped her phone into her back pocket, and her heart leapt into her throat when she turned around to find Campbell watching her with soft eyes and an even softer smile.
“Everything okay?”
Emma swallowed hard enough to force her heart back where it belonged and nodded. “Yeah.” She took a deep breath and let it go in a rush. “So, what do you need me to do?”
“Just gotta choose the toppings for the Beavertails, and then we’re good to go.” Campbell tucked her hair behind her ears and turned to open the tall, narrow pantry beside her fridge. “I’ve got Nutella. We could melt some dark chocolate and top it with bananas. Or we could do a cookies and cream kind of thing with vanilla frosting and crushed Oreos. Or we could always just keep things simple with some melted butter and cinnamon and sugar…”
“You really have all the stuff to make each of those?”
“I didn’t know what you’d prefer, and I like to be prepared.” Campbell smiled at Emma over her shoulder. “So, what sounds good?”
Emma shrugged. “What’s your favorite?”
“I like them plain and simple, with just some butter and cinnamon and sugar.”
“So let’s do one of those.” Emma dragged a hand through her hair and peered over Campbell’s shoulder. “Lars loves Nutella, so we can do that. And—”
“The last one is your choice, Beauchamp,” Campbell interrupted her as she rocked back on her heels to lean into Emma. “What do you want?”
The bump could have been playful—hell, it was probably meant to be playful—and if Emma had lightly shoved Campbell off of her it would have been, but she was tired and not thinking all that quickly, and when her hands reflexively found Campbell’s hips to steady them both, she held on instead of pushing her away.
Emma heard Campbell’s breath catch softly as she splayed her fingertips against the top of her jeans, and then hers did the same when Campbell gave her a questioning look over her shoulder. The small smile curling Campbell’s lips as they just stared at each other sent her pulse racing, and she couldn’t help but stare in wonder at the way Campbell’s hazel eyes seemed to become lighter and darker all at once, like the horizon in those final moments before the sun set completely. Flecks of gold dotted the amber, like a dusting of stars in a nighttime sky, a celestial map that would lead her home if she chose to follow, and Emma felt a ringing in her soul that begged for her to do just that.
The truth of what Emma desired must have shown in her own eyes, because Campbell’s darkened further as she turned in Emma’s hands and asked again, in a voice that made Emma think of crushed velvet, “What do you want, Emma?”
Emma’s heart jumped at the feeling of Campbell’s hand curving lightly, almost pleadingly along her jaw, and all thinking and overthinking stopped as she dipped her head and whispered, “You,” against Campbell’s lips. The hand on her jaw tightened by a blissful fraction, guiding her closer, and she melted into that hold as soft, soft lips covered her own.
Emma pulled Campbell closer as their first few languorous, almost awed kisses became deeper, and marveled at the way Campbell’s lips parted with a quiet whimper at the lightest touch of her tongue. She fisted the hem of Campbell’s tee as she was pressed back into the counter, and her head spun as the hand on her jaw slipped into her hair. She moaned at the way Campbell’s grip tightened as she took control of the tenor and tempo of their kisses, and submitted eagerly to the feeling of Campbell’s body against her own, the warmth of her lips, and the hot press of her tongue dipping and delving around her own with such confidence and ease that it was like they’d been doing this for years.
The hand in her hair slid back to her jaw as their kisses slowed, once again turning deep and languid and awed, and when Emma finally blinked her eyes open, it was to find Campbell staring at her with a look of such wonder that she found it nearly impossible to breathe. She licked her lips as she stared at Campbell, and couldn’t help but wonder why they hadn’t done this before because she had never, never felt so much from a simple kiss.
Campbell smiled and caressed Emma’s cheek with her thumb, silencing her racing thoughts with a touch as she asked, “Okay?”
Emma’s eyes fluttered at the touch, and she whispered, “Yes,” as she leaned in to capture Campbell’s lips in a searing kiss. Her stomach flipped at the way Campbell’s arms wrapped around her neck as she sank into her, meeting and matching each of Emma’s kisses but seeming more than content to follow her lead. It was intoxicating, to have a woman like Campbell so willing and plaint in her arms, and Emma smiled against her lips as she spun them around so that it was Campbell who was now pinned against the counter. A shiver of molten desire rolled down her spine at the way Campbell moaned when she pressed their hips together to hold her in place, and she pulled away just enough to gasp, “God, Campbell…”
“Don’t stop,” Campbell rasped, punctuating her plea with a deft flick of her tongue at Emma’s lips.
Emma whimpered as she eagerly heeded the command, surging forward to reclaim Campbell’s lips in the first of a string of kisses that were so hot and deep and heavy that they were both flushed and utterly breathless by the time their kisses slowed to a series of lingering pecks.
“Have we always been building to this?” Campbell whispered between kisses. “All these years?”
Emma hummed as she trailed her lips along Campbell’s jaw. She dipped her head to nip at Campbell’s throbbing pulse point and murmured, “Sure seems like it.”
Campbell groaned as her head fell to the side, offering Emma more freedom to lick and kiss and tease as she wanted. “Yeah, it does.”
“And, just to double-check”—Emma brushed a kiss to the sensitive spot she’d just pinked with her teeth—“this is okay?”
Campbell nodded. “More than okay.”
Emma smiled and lifted her mouth to Campbell’s ear. “Good. Because I’ve been wanting to do this for weeks.”
“God,” Campbell whimpered and arched against Emma. “You keep that up, Beauchamp, and we’ll never get to Beca and Lars’.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Emma teased, sucking Campbell’s earlobe between her lips and gave it a gentle tug. She grinned as she pulled back to look at Campbell, and her stomach flipped as she drank in Campbell’s flushed cheeks and dark, dark eyes. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” Campbell shook her head as she lifted her chin to claim Emma’s lips with the softest apology of a kiss before she pulled away with a heavy sigh and said, “But we probably should.”
Emma knew Campbell was right, but she couldn’t resist stealing one last kiss before regretfully pulling away. “Okay.” She took a deep breath to steel her will to not say fuck-all to the rest of the day and just start kissing Campbell again, and let it go slowly as she turned back to the open pantry. “So, one more topping. How’s cookies and cream sound?”
She smiled at the feeling of Campbell’s hand curling around her arm as soft lips brushed against her cheek, “Perfect.”
Finishing off the desserts shouldn’t have been a particularly difficult task, but Campbell insisting that Emma should help meant that they were working in too-close quarters, and neither of them proved strong enough to resist the urge to reach for the other. It was, without a doubt, the most enjoyable however-many-minutes Emma had ever spent in the kitchen in her life, and she was almost disappointed when Campbell sprinkled the final pastry with crushed Oreos and declared it finished.
“Here,” Emma said as she stole a kiss and the offset spatula covered in vanilla frosting from Campbell’s hand. “I’ll wash up while you finish that.”
“If you start kissing me again, you’re going to be the one to call Beca and tell her why we’re blowing off dinner,” Campbell warned.
“Is that supposed to be a threat?” Emma retorted as she playfully used her body to pin Campbell against the edge of the counter for at least the third time since they’d agreed to stop kissing and focus on finishing the dessert. The feeling of Campbell relaxing against her, one hand finding her hip while the other wrapped around the back of her neck, made Emma’s stomach flip, and she dipped her head just enough to whisper against Campbell’s lips without actually touching them, “Because it’s a really bad one, if it is.”
Campbell whimpered and used her hold on Emma’s neck to hold her in place as she closed the distance that separated them and captured Emma’s lips with her own.
The feeling of Campbell’s tongue swirling around her own was intoxicating, and Emma groaned as she surrendered herself to the feeling of Campbell’s body pressed against hers, so soft and warm and willing. She reached desperately for Campbell, needing to be closer, and blinked in confusion when Campbell yelped and jerked away from her.
“Wha—” Emma started to ask, but the reason for Campbell’s reaction became instantly clear the moment she looked at her. She had been so focused on kissing Campbell, that she had completely forgotten about the frosting-covered spatula in her hand. She turned to toss it into the sink as she said, “Shit! Sorry! I’m sorry!”
Campbell shook her head as she rubbed at her cheek. “Just tell me that isn’t in my hair…”
“Stop, you’re making it worse,” Emma chided as she tucked her right hand under Campbell’s chin to turn her head to the side. She sighed with relief when she saw that the smear of frosting at Campbell’s temple stopped millimeters from her hair. “It isn’t in your hair,” she reported as she laid an open-mouthed kiss to the spot of frosting and used her tongue to clear away some of the mess.
“I’m starting to think you did that on purpose,” Campbell murmured as she leaned her head into Emma’s lips. “Just so you could do this.”
“I really didn’t,” Emma insisted as she pressed another kiss to Campbell’s cheek. When Campbell didn’t pull away, she dragged the flat of her tongue along the stripe of frosting, loving the way it made Campbell arch against her. “But I totally might do something like this on purpose next time we cook,” she admitted as she dusted a smile of a kiss to Campbell’s ear.
“Oh, you will, huh?” Campbell asked, her voice ringing with amusement.
“If it means I get to do this, absolutely,” Emma hummed as she nuzzled the sweet spot behind Campbell’s ear. “I don’t know why the hell it took us so long to do this, but, god, I don’t want to stop.”
Campbell groaned. “Emma…”
The half-warning, half-pleading tone in Campbell’s voice made Emma’s heart skip a beat, and she licked her lips as she pulled back to look at her. “Too much?”
“No,” Campbell whispered. She shook her head, and a small smile curled her lips as she dragged her thumb over Emma’s lips. “But we really do have somewhere to be. And I’m only human, Beauchamp,” she teased, “so if you keep kissing me like that, we will never get there.”
“And that would be bad,” Emma surmised. She sighed when her stomach growled right then, angrily protesting the very idea of skipping Thanksgiving dinner, and pulled back to glare at her stomach. “Traitor.”
Campbell chuckled. “We can pick this up again later.”
Emma leaned in and stole one last quick kiss. “I’m going to hold you to that one.” She winked at Campbell and took a step back. “I’ll wash up in here while you go get cleaned up properly. How do you want to take the beaver things to Beca’s?”
“There’s a cupcake Tupperware container in the cabinet over the fridge that should hold all three.”
Emma’s stomach growled again, and she laughed. “All right. Get a move on, Jordan. I’m hungry.”
“Yeah, yeah, now you want to get going…” Campbell drawled, throwing a playful wink over her shoulder as she made her way out of the kitchen.
Emma couldn’t contain her smile as she watched Campbell go, and as she shook her head as she muttered to herself, “Wow.”
Without Campbell around to distract her, Emma knocked through her tasks quickly, and by the time Campbell returned to the kitchen, she was wiping down the counters.
“Damn, you work quick.”
Emma tossed the paper towel she’d been using into the trash and looked up at Campbell. “I was feeling motivated.”
“For dinner?”
Emma shrugged. She was starving, her stomach was pretty much growling nonstop now, but she was in more of a hurry to get to the ‘later’ Campbell had promised than she was to eat. “Sure, we can go with that.”
Campbell’s expression gentled, and her eyes crinkled with her smile. “Okay. So, are you ready to go?”
“Sure.” Emma brushed her hands off on her jeans as she made her way to her bag at the table. She briefly considered the idea of leaving its contents hidden as her hand closed around one of the straps, but brushed the thought aside just as quickly. Things might have changed drastically between them, but how much she enjoyed seeing Campbell riled up certainly hadn’t. “But before we go, I’ve got something for you.”
Campbell’s right eyebrow twitched. “You do?”
“Yup.” Emma unzipped the bag. “Here you go,” she announced as she unfurled the old jersey she had chosen with a snap.
Campbell shook her head. “You’re kidding, right?”
Emma waved the navy blue jersey like it was a matador’s cape. Which, considering that Campbell was, well, Campbell, really wasn’t too far off the mark so far as descriptions went. Although, she figured, it probably wasn’t anywhere this fun to antagonize a bull. “Nope.”
Campbell pursed her lips as she stared at the jersey, and when she looked up at Emma, her expression was thoughtful. “Surely there’s some kind of an agreement we could come to that would have you put that back in your bag.”
Emma smirked. “I thought we weren’t doing that until later.”
Campbell laughed. “You know, I could say something like ‘if you want to do that later, I’d strongly recommend you put the sweater away’”—she snatched the jersey out of Emma’s hands—“but I won’t.”
“Because you’re good and honorable?” Emma teased as Campbell pulled the jersey over her head.
Campbell straightened the jersey on her shoulders, and when she smiled at Emma, she looked like the cat that had caught the proverbial canary. “Sure. We can go with that.”
Emma swallowed hard, feeling simultaneously dismayed and excited as she drank in the unexpectedly alluring sight of Campbell Jordan in her old Team USA jersey. “Oh…”
Campbell laughed and leaned in to drop a chaste kiss to Emma’s lips. “Exactly.”
“Wow. How many people are coming to this thing?” Campbell asked, eyeing the handful of cars parked along the curb in front of Beca and Lars’ house.
Emma shrugged and popped the hatch on her car. “I know Isabella and her family are coming since they didn’t go to visit her family in the Dominican like they usually do, so that’s four. Her boys are great, you’ll love them. Then there’s us, Beca, and Lars, which makes eight. I think Becs said that Laura’s coming and has someone she’s bringing, so we’re supposed to be on our best behavior and not scare them off—”
“Please tell me that ‘best behavior’ is better than what I got my first time over here,” Campbell chuckled.
“Totally different.” Emma grinned. “You got the full-on ‘welcome to the family’ treatment that time. Which is really more of a ‘let’s throw everything at them and see if they survive’ kind of thing. Today is supposed to be more of the ‘please don’t scare them off’ type of best behavior.”
“So, actual best behavior, then.”
“Basically,” Emma agreed. “Anyway, Laura and her mystery suitor make ten, then there’s Hal and Xavier who always come but, as far as I know, neither of them have a plus-one, so…maybe twelve? Ish?” She shrugged. “Something like that, anyway. It should be fun. And Isabella’s boys being around will keep everyone mostly in check.”
