Accidentally on Purpose 6 Book Box Set

by L. D. Davis

  “In a few years,” Emmet said with distaste. “What are you willing to lose before then, Donya? What are you willing to give up?”

  The way he said it implied that maybe he thought I was willing to lose him; that I was willing to give him up, and that wasn’t the case. I had always thought as Emmet as the constant in my life, that no matter where I went or what I did, in the end I would always be able to rely on him to be there for me, waiting for me. Just considering the possibility of not having Emmet as that constant in my life terrified me.

  “Do you want me to quit?” I asked weakly. As soon as the question was out of my mouth, I began to feel resentment. Not necessarily at Emmet, but in general. I didn’t want to quit my job. It was a job that only a very small percentage of the population could do, and I was fortunate and talented enough to do it and do it well.

  Emmet dragged a hand through his hair, looking exasperated, angry, sad, and hurt all at once. He stared at me with his hand still in his hair, pushing his hair off of his forehead.

  “If I ask you to quit, you will resent me,” he bit out. I didn’t know if he said it because he believed it or if he could feel me feeling it, but I didn’t deny it. I didn’t object or argue. I just stood there, waiting for a direct answer to my direct question.

  “I want you to quit because you want to,” he finally said. “Not because I want you to.”

  I bristled. “That really puts me in an awkward position.”

  Emmet released his hair and put his hands on his hips as he went back to glaring at me.

  “Because you can’t decide whether or not you want your job or me?” he shot out.

  “That’s not fair!” I cried. “Why can’t I have both you and my job? I love my job, Emmet, and I love you, and I shouldn’t have to choose!”

  “You love your job more!” he shouted. “It’s not even a fucking contest between me and the conceited thrill you get out of seeing your ass in a pair of jeans on a billboard!”

  More hurtful words. I was confident in my abilities to model, which was a necessary component, but I wasn’t conceited about it. I didn’t think I was better than anyone else, and I didn’t feel self-important.

  “What am I supposed to do if I quit now?” I challenged. “Get married, stay at home and pop out five kids like your mom?”

  “You could get married, pop out one kid and stay at home like your mom,” he snapped.

  “Wow,” I smiled cynically as I backed away from him. “If your goal was to hurt me with your words, you’re doing one hell of a job. Is insulting your fiancé an elective course you can take at Harvard? They give you lessons on how to treat your future wife?”

  “My future wife?” Emmet laughed without humor. “You’re married to your work, Donya. You don’t need me,” he said tauntingly. “You have Coco and Prada and Coach to keep you warm at night, and I’m sure if you get hot and bothered any one of your male modeling buddies can help you out. Hell, in your industry, I’m sure one of your female counterparts would help you out.”

  If I had been standing closer to him, I would have slapped him in the face, but I was standing several feet away. All I could do was stand there and stare at him as I let more of his hurtful words sink in. When I finally found that I could move again, I turned away from Emmet and walked to the foyer where I had dropped my luggage. I yanked my jacket off of the coat rack that hung on the wall behind the door and pulled it on. Emmet was standing a few feet away watching me as I zipped up and draped my scarf around my neck. I grabbed my hat off of the rack and pushed it on my head before bending over to pick up my bags.

  “Don’t you dare walk out that door,” Emmet said ominously. “If you leave, there is no going back from here, Donya. I’m done waiting around for you if you go.”

  I hesitated but didn’t look back at him. I could feel his anger. I could feel his apprehension too, but mostly his anger. It overpowered everything else at that moment. I was willing to work on our relationship, but I didn’t think that I needed to hang around and continue getting verbally punched in the gut. I never purposely hurt Emmet, but he was going out of his way to hurt me.

  After a strained moment, I pulled the door open and dragged my bags outside into the cold winter air. It was almost spring, but there was a lot of snow on the ground from a recent snowstorm, and it was very cold. I didn’t have a car—I didn’t even have a license to drive a car—and the nearest mode of public transportation wouldn’t be easy to get to with all of my bags. I could go back inside and try to get Emmet to calm down and carry on with our weekend, but I wasn’t sure if I could calm him down. I felt like my only option was to close the door between us and sit on the curb and call and wait for a cab.

  Without glancing back at him, I closed the door and walked to the curb. A large part of me hoped that Emmet would come out and convince me to go back inside, but I gave up hope by the time the cab pulled up, and the driver put my luggage in the trunk. I looked back at his apartment before getting inside, wondering if I was making a mistake. The tether between us ached painfully. We were both hurt, but Emmet’s anger was still strongly felt, and I didn’t think I could deal with it.

  I got into the cab and asked to be driven to the train station. I managed to keep it together for hours while I waited for a train and then rode to New York. I waited until I had let myself into the apartment attached to Felix’s penthouse before I checked my phone to see if Emmet had called. He had not.

  That was when I fell to pieces.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “Bonjour!” the woman said and eagerly kissed both of my cheeks. “Je suis Helene. Etes-vous Donya?”

  I nodded. “Oui.”

  She started to speak rapidly in French, but I only caught a few words. I held up a hand to politely stop her.

  “I’m sorry, I’m still learning the language,” I said apologetically.

  “I’m sorry,” she laughed. “They told me you were fluent.”

  “I basically know how to ask for food and shoes and that’s about it.” I couldn’t bring myself to laugh. I had to save all of my energy for the long ass day I was about to have. We were not only creating several ads for magazines, but we were also doing a commercial for a new fragrance Alberi was releasing.

  “That is a beautiful ring,” Helene said in awe as she gently held my hand close to her face. “You are engaged? You are very young.”

  “Actually,” I said, carefully pulling my hand back. “I’m not sure if I’m still engaged.”

  I had no reason to tell this complete stranger that information, especially a complete stranger that would be, in moments, taking pictures of me all day.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t really mean to volunteer that information.”

  “You look very sad, mademoiselle,” Helene said with her heavy French accent. She looked at me with kind eyes.

  “I’ll be okay to work,” I promised her.

  “I hope so,” she said and touched my arm before walking away.

  I immediately liked her. Most other photographers would not have been cool with my mopey attitude, and they would have had serious doubts about whether or not I would have been able to turn it off for the cameras. I’m sure Helene had her doubts, but she didn’t verbalize them, which made me more determined to prove that I could go from Pathetic Stupid Donya to Super Model Donya in a blink of an eye.

  I had not heard from Emmet by the time I boarded my flight to Paris. I was not such a prideful person that I waited for him to call me. I did try to call him a few times, but he never answered. I cried for almost the entire trip across the Atlantic as I felt that tether stretching painfully.

  “Donya,” one of the assistants called and waved me on.

  It was time to get to work. As finishing touches were made to my hair and makeup on the set, I reminded myself that it was a huge privilege that I had before me. Millions of women would give almost anything to be in my position. Hell, apparently I had given up something to be in my position…r />
  When Helena picked up her camera and asked me if I was ready, Pathetic Donya took a seat, and the Super Model in me took over.

  *~*~*

  It was nearly two in the morning when I took a cab back to Felix’s penthouse. I was exhausted and achy, but more than anything, my heart hurt. The moment all work was finished, my modeling façade fell away, and I was back to looking miserable. Helene had been ecstatic about my shots and the production team that filmed the commercial was pleased. I should have felt pleased and ecstatic too, but I felt lonely and I wanted Emmet.

  I wanted him so badly that I felt like he was with me all day. I imagined that he wasn’t thousands of miles away and that he was close to me, and by the feeling in my chest, I had seriously convinced my body and soul that Emmet was near. I tried to hold on to that in the back of a cab as we raced through the Parisian streets.

  Before going into the building, I turned and looked at the Eiffel Tower in the distance. I had never gotten used to looking at it in all of its splendor. It was a beautiful sight against the sky; tall, solid, and sure. I decided that I would keep my curtains wide open so that I could look at the tower out of my window as I fell asleep and it could be the first thing I saw when I woke up. I needed something solid and sure to look at because my solid and sure was MIA.

  The doorman let me inside of the building, and I was greeted by the overnight concierge as I walked across the marble lobby to the elevators. I used my key fob to get to the top floor—of course Felix would have it no other way.

  I wished that he was around, but he was filming. Occasionally our paths crossed, but I didn’t see him much anymore. We were both very busy. He had quickly become one of the few people I couldn’t live without. He was a good and loyal friend. He was still a terrible flirt, but he made me laugh, and he was reliable.

  With a weary sigh, I unlocked the door to the enormous apartment, walked inside and swallowed back a scream. Emmet stood in the foyer, just like the fucking Eiffel Tower, beautiful, tall, solid, and sure. His hair was sexily disheveled, and he was barefoot like he had been there for some time. His eyes burned into me with undeniable love. I blinked once, twice, three and four times.

  I burst into tears when I realized that it was actually him and that my mind was not playing tricks on me.

  He closed the distance between us in two long strides and then his strong arms were around me, pulling me against his body. I let my bag slip off of my shoulder and onto the floor before I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shirt.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered as he kissed my head and smoothed my hair and back. “I love you.”

  The deluge of tears that had burst forth soaked his shirt, but he didn’t seem to notice. He continued to hold me and murmur his love for me. Soon the soul-killing emotions and my long day working and my days of travel began to take their toll. I felt weak and dizzy as my legs began to turn to gelatin.

  Emmet swept me off of my feet into his strong arms and kicked the door shut. He carried me easily through the apartment to the bedroom that was reserved for me. He sat me carefully on the bed and used the bottom of his shirt to wipe my face. The shirt quickly became soaked with my tears. He gave up on it and pulled it off, revealing his gorgeous body.

  Kneeling before me, he untied my sneakers and pulled them and my socks off of my feet. Next, he pulled off my jacket and my shirt. He had me stand so he could remove my pants and then I sat back down on the bed in my bra and underwear. When he unbuckled his belt, I pushed his hands out of the way and started to unbutton his jeans. I put my fingers under the elastic of his boxer briefs and pulled his pants and boxers down together.

  I knew that he had only planned on getting me into bed to hold me and sleep, but I needed him. I needed to touch him, to taste him, and to physically connect with him.

  Breathless with anticipation, I reached out and grasped his erection in my hand. Moisture glistened on the tip. I looked up into his green eyes as I dragged my tongue over the wide tip, licking away the liquid proof of his excitement. Emmet moaned deep in his throat and cupped my face in his hands as he looked down at me lovingly.

  I sighed with pleasure and relief as I took him deep into my mouth. He groaned and whispered my name. Stroking the base of his rock hard cock with my one hand, I sucked hard as I dragged my mouth up his shaft until just the bulbous head was left between my lips. I swirled my tongue over it before taking him deep again. Emmet gasped and grunted. I knew he wanted to close his eyes and let his head fall back, but he didn’t take his eyes off of me.

  Feeling encouraged by the glazed look in his eyes, I put both of my hands on his ass for leverage and took him so deeply that I started to choke on his length and girth. He cursed and groaned loudly and twisted his fingers in my hair. He thrust once in my mouth, and because I was no longer Pathetic Donya or Super Model Donya, I moaned and looked at him encouragingly. Donya SGL wanted her lover to thrust his appendage into her mouth. Emmet took his cue and began to gently thrust in and out of my mouth. The look of pleasure on his face made me feel empowered. I was the one making him feel that way. I dug my fingers into his ass cheeks, making him thrust deeper into my mouth.

  I knew he was getting close because he began to move faster and harder. My throat would be sore in the morning, but I didn’t care. When he tried to pull away so that he wouldn’t finish in my mouth, I held onto him and made my mouth as tight as I could. Emmet gave me one questioning look, and when I only moaned in response, he gave in completely.

  Groaning loudly and calling my name like a mantra, his cock began to spasm in my mouth and then warm, sticky liquid was shooting onto the back of my tongue. He pulled out of my mouth slowly and once his cock slipped from my lips, I took a few swallows. It was the first time he had ever finished in my mouth. He more than earned it.

  I fell back onto the bed, exhausted. Since I had not made my bed that morning, Emmet easily pulled the blankets up over me after he repositioned me more comfortably. He turned off the light and then climbed in beside me and pulled me into his arms. He kissed me slowly, lazily, but passionately. My toes curled at the way his tongue moved in my mouth, and I could feel him still hard against me. His hand traveled over my bare belly and up my ribcage until he was cupping my breast. He squeezed it gently as his thumb moved over my hard nipple. I squirmed and moaned softly.

  Emmet pulled his lips from mine and kissed my chin, down my neck and across my collarbone. He expertly unhooked my bra, releasing my breasts to the mercy of his hands and fingers. Whatever exhaustion I had felt was disappearing as he sucked a nipple into his mouth and his other hand rolled my other nipple between his fingers. I slipped my hands into his hair. I still couldn’t believe that he was there, that he had come to Paris for me. Part of me felt like I was dreaming and I worried that I would wake up, and it would have never had happened.

  He left my aching breasts glistening from the moisture from his mouth as he kissed a path down my belly and over my panty line. He gently pushed my legs open and to my surprise and excitement, he licked my sex through my underwear. I groaned and lifted my hips off of the bed. He linked his fingers in my panties and pulled them off, but I was suddenly self-conscious.

  I had showered at five in the morning, but I had been working all day. I didn’t feel very…fresh, and I told him as much, but he shut down my worries when his tongue dipped inside of me. I wriggled against him as his tongue eased in and out of me. When he licked between my swollen lips up to my sensitive clit, DSGL grabbed the back of Emmet’s head and ground against her lover’s face.

  He moaned as if he enjoyed my aggressiveness. He flicked his tongue over my clit repeatedly. I squirmed and moaned and bit down on my lip. When he put his lips over it and sucked, my hips shot off of the bed, and I cried out. I pulled on his hair and cried out his name as I ground on his face. He slipped two fingers inside of me, and I came undone.

  I tried to push him away as my orgasm punched through my body. It was too much to take,
but Emmet didn’t allow me to push him away. He sucked my clit harder and added a third finger. I felt like I was spinning out of control, ready to crash into the earth in a heap, but another orgasm rocked through my body, and I found myself hurtling through space once again. Emmet licked me lazily as I began to come back to Earth, and his fingers moved slowly.

  My orgasm subsided, but my body still trembled even as Emmet positioned himself over me. In one smooth move, he sank his cock deep inside of me. My head tipped back and my eyes closed as I moaned loudly. My back bowed away from the bed in a natural reflex that only buried Emmet’s erection deeper inside of me. He groaned my name and crushed his body against mine, pinning me to the bed beneath him, and he kissed me with unbridled salacity. My lips felt as if they were bruising and my tongue and mouth felt battered, but I not only wanted his violent passion, but I craved it and loved it.

  My nails dug into his flesh as pleasure and pain mingled together. When his lips left mine and began to move down my cheek, I turned my head to give him full access to my neck. The curtains were open after all, giving me the perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. It struck me how perfect the moment was. I was making love with my soul mate in Paris with one of the most romantic structures in the world within view. Not only did I have Emmet in my arms and inside of me, but he had also traveled thousands of miles to make the moment happen. My love for him was already at depths I’d never be able to quantify, but it suddenly blossomed further, and my chest felt like it was going to explode with passion, appreciation, and love.

  My tears started again, just as Emmet’s teeth sunk into the curvy flesh of my breast. I cried out in pain and delight that was cut short by Emmet’s mouth quickly finding mine again. His rhythm increased, as did the power behind his thrusts. With his elbows on the bed, his hands held my face and his thumbs wiped away my tears as he continued to kiss me and make love to me with unchecked fervor. My screams were met by his increasing moans and grunts. His chest rubbed against my sensitive nipples and his body pressed against my clit with his movements.