by L. D. Davis
My whole body felt like it was on fire. I was burning with passion and pleasure. Emmet’s body was hot against mine. Together we would erupt into flames and set the entire bed on fire, maybe the entire city. That’s how hot I felt with him. His body was touching mine in all of the right places, and I began to see white spots behind my eyelids. There was a keening coming from within me, but it was caught by Emmet’s warm, silky mouth.
Suddenly, I pulled my mouth away from his and screamed his name as a scorching, explosive orgasm tore through my body. It sparked hot delight over every inch of my skin. I clung to him as the orgasm continued to sear me through and through. Emmet followed, holding me tightly to his body and calling out my name as his seed spilled inside of me. Before I could stop violently trembling from the last orgasm, I was desolated by another.
“Don’t let me go,” I whimpered breathlessly, wrapping my limbs around him. “Please don’t let me go.”
Emmet continued to hold me and gently kiss my moist face as he made a solemn promise to me.
“I’ll never let you go,” he said.
And I believed him.
*~*~*
Of course, Felix couldn’t just have a normal guest bathroom with a toilet, shower, and tub. The on-suite bathroom in my room had a large oval shaped, glass enclosed shower stall. There were shower heads from above and shower heads built into the wall so that you were sprayed from all directions. The tub wasn’t just a tub, but the size of a small pool with a Jacuzzi setting. Even the toilet was elaborate.
I sat in the tub with my knees drawn up to my chest and my arms wrapped around my legs. I rested my cheek on my knees as Emmet sat beside me gently running a sudsy pouf over my body. I was exhausted and sore by the time he pulled out of my body, but I felt a shower or bath was necessary. While I lay in bed staring out at the Eiffel Tower, Emmet had gone into the bathroom and drawn a bath for us.
“How did you get in here?” I asked him sleepily.
“I called Felix and told him I screwed up, and he made things happen for me,” he said. He sounded just as tired as I felt.
“You and Felix are mighty cozy,” I teased softly.
Emmet smiled and gave a nonchalant shrug. “He’s not so bad.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Not so bad? You hung out with him all weekend last month. You guys are like, dare I say it, friends now.”
He flicked his fingers at me, sending drops of waters and suds flying onto my face.
“Don’t push it,” he said.
I wanted to laugh and to tease him about Felix, but despite our intense lovemaking, there was still some tension between us. We still had some unresolved issues.
“If I had known about the trip to Mexico, I would have never accepted the campaign with Alberi,” I said. We had been quiet for a few minutes, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
“Whether you knew or not doesn’t change the fact that you made a promise to me,” Emmet quickly responded with a soft, but hostile tone that made me cringe.
I hugged my legs closer to my body and turned my head away before again resting my cheek on my knees. I heard Emmet’s soft expulsion of air. The water lapped gently at the sides of the tub as he moved closer to me.
“Donya,” he said my name softly. “Baby, look at me.”
Reluctantly, I turned my head back to look at him. The features in his face that had been hard a moment before had softened. His fingers stroked down the ponytail hanging down my back.
“I didn’t fly over thirty-five hundred miles to fight with you and make you feel bad,” he said. “I came here to be with you. I don’t care if I only get a half hour with you a day while I’m here; it’s better than nothing. I’ll take what I can get.”
“I’m really sorry,” I whispered.
“I know you are,” he said solemnly.
“What are we going to do, Emmet?” I asked weakly.
“Don’t worry about it right now, baby. We’ll work it out. I promise.”
He kissed me. It was very brief, but it warmed me in the cool water.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I loved mornings with Emmet. I loved watching him stretch and scratch at his chest and sometimes his beard if he had one growing in. His hair was messy; his t-shirt had ridden up to just below his belly button and his lounge pants hung low on his hips revealing the top of that contoured-V shaped part of his pelvis that I wanted to lick. I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth when he shuffled in, yawning, scratching, and looking hot.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said and kissed my temple.
“Hello,” I smiled. I watched his ass as he walked away towards the toilet, but turned away when he started to pee.
I finished brushing my teeth and filled a cup with water so that I could take my vitamins and birth control pill. Emmet washed his hands and found a new toothbrush in a drawer on his side of the double sink vanity. He brushed his teeth while I took my pills and began to brush my hair.
“I can get used to this,” I said as I pulled the brush through my hair.
“Get used to what, baby?”
“This,” I said, gesturing between us. “Us, moving about in the mornings together and getting ready to face the day. What makes it even more alluring is that we’re in one of the most romantic cities in the world.”
Emmet moved behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist and looked at our reflections in the mirror.
“It doesn’t matter what city it is,” he said in my ear. “As long as we’re together, it will be the most romantic place in the world.”
I turned my head and met his lips. The kiss was minty and warm and made me happy.
“Yeah, I can definitely get used to this,” I said as Emmet released me.
He grinned at me and said “Anytime and anyplace you want to get official with me, beautiful, I’m there. Now get a move on before you’re late.” He smacked my ass, making me yelp and left the bathroom chuckling.
The week had started out rocky, but it turned out better than expected. I finished shooting for the campaign the day after Emmet arrived. Though I received phone calls for other work, I turned it all down so that I could be with Emmet like I was supposed to in the first place.
We fell into a comfortable routine during our days together. Whenever we would finally make it out of bed, whether groggy from sleep or electrified from sex, we would take a shower together. We’d floss and brush our teeth while music played from the bedroom. I’d wash my face while he shaved, and while I moisturized my skin and brushed my hair, Emmet would go into the kitchen and make coffee for himself, tea for me, and breakfast for us. I’d join him at the breakfast table that had an incredible view of the tower and the city, and we would attempt to read the newspaper that was delivered to the door every morning. I had a better understanding of the French language than Emmet did, but it was always a fun time to try to pronounce and decipher the articles.
After breakfast, we would hit the streets of Paris for sightseeing or shopping and then we had lunch at a different café each day. We always returned back to the penthouse by early evening. Sometimes we’d grab food on the way home, or sometimes we’d eat out, but my favorite times were when we cooked together in the top of the line kitchen. Emmet did most of the cooking, though. I wasn’t much of a cook, but Emmet showed off with his slicing and dicing, sautéing and flipping. He plated the food like a five-star chef and placed it in front of me with a loud, obnoxious, “voila!”
We also talked all day, every day. I asked Emmet question after question to prove that the life he lived in Cambridge was important to me.
Helene, the photographer that had been so kind to me, joined us for lunch one day. We had exchanged numbers on the last day of working together. She brought her husband Marcus with her. The pair bickered back and forth over trivial things. They would start to argue in English, but they effortlessly continued to argue in French and Marcus’s native Italian. Emmet and I looked at each other in amusement before turning back to our new frien
ds to try to get them back on topic, but it was clear they loved each other. In the middle of an argument, Marcus would kiss her all over her face, and they never stopped touching one another.
“Your fiancé is brilliant,” Helene said to Emmet towards the end of our meal.
I looked at her with amusement and confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“I know she is, but why do you think so?” Emmet asked after glancing at me with a soft smile.
“I do not know what happened between you two—it’s none of my business,” she said, waving her hand. “But Donya was devastated. It was written all over her face. It was in her body language. She looked stiff and lifeless, but…” She shook a finger at me and smiled. “Once she stepped in front of the camera, she transformed. It was like that hurting girl had gone away. She became who she needed to become, and there are very few girls in this business that can do that effectively. I usually have to yell at them all day to take their heads out of their asses.”
Emmet looked at me with adoration. It made me feel embarrassed, though I didn’t know why.
“She is incredible,” he murmured.
“She is,” Helene nodded and looked at me. “The sky is the limit for you, Donya. If you want something, you will be able to take it.” She made a snatching motion with her hand.
Emmet looked at Helene with a thoughtful expression. The conversation changed after a moment, but Emmet had grown quiet. I don’t think Helene and Marcus noticed because he still participated in the conversation, but I knew he was preoccupied. Later as we walked back home, Emmet was still clearly lost in his thoughts. I chatted on anyway, carrying the weight of the conversation until we were inside the penthouse, coats closeted and shoes kicked off.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked him as we settled on the couch.
He looked at me quietly and thoughtfully for a moment before speaking.
“Do you really love what you’re doing?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered without hesitation. “It’s hard work, and sometimes I’m treated like shit,” I admitted. “But…I really do love it. I love the clothes, the hair, the makeup, and becoming someone else in front of the camera. I love the chaos before and during a shoot and the satisfactory feeling I have afterward.”
I pulled my legs up onto the couch and rested my head on Emmet’s shoulder.
“Emmy and I used to look at Vogue, Cosmo, and Vanity Fair for hours at a time when we were younger. I didn’t necessarily want to be a model then, but I envied them sometimes. They got to wear incredible clothes, shoes, and jewelry created by some of the most talented minds in the world. I loved their poses and the expressions on their faces. When I realized that I could be like those models, I really wanted it. When I realized that I was good at it, I wanted it even more. I didn’t understand what it meant to have a passion for a hobby or an occupation until I got to New York and got my first real modeling gig.”
I looked up at him with narrowed eyes. He looked back at me questioningly.
“For the record, I do love the final result of a shoot, but I actually get embarrassed when I see myself in a magazine or a commercial. I damn near had a heart attack when I saw that billboard advertisement for those jeans. If you noticed, I get uncomfortable when people approach me as if I was someone important or famous.”
Emmet smiled, but he sounded sincere when he apologized for his comment about me being conceited. “I know you’re not like that,” he said gently and put his arm around me.
“Why did you ask me if I love what I do?” I asked him.
He ran a hand over his jaw and sighed. “I knew you were good at what you did, but Helene has been in the business for a long time, right? It takes things to another level when someone like her says that you’re good.”
“I believe she said brilliant,” I said with a smirk.
Emmet grinned and poked me in the side, making me giggle. “Oh, no, you’re not conceited or anything,” he teased.
“Just stating the facts.”
“Okay, so she said you’re brilliant,” Emmet amended, but then his face grew serious. I sat up straight and looked at him, waiting for him to spit out whatever it was he had to say. “Donya, I don’t want to hold you back—ever. I tried to hold you back when we were arguing in my apartment. I told you that I wanted you to quit because you wanted to, not because I wanted you to, but I really did want you to want to quit. I tried to make you feel that quitting was your only option, and I feel like such an asshole for that.”
“It’s okay,” I said, touching his face. “I understand, I do. You missed me, and I have been inconsiderate over the past several months.”
Emmet captured my fingers in his hand and looked at me with a troubled expression.
“Donya, I don’t want to hold you back,” he said again. “I want you to go as far as you can go with this, and I know that there will have to be some sacrifices made, but I’m unwilling to sacrifice any more unnecessary time away from you. As soon as the semester is over, I’m going to join you in whatever corner of the world you’re in.”
I stared at him stupidly for a moment. “What…what do you mean? You’re going to skip the internship and travel with me for the summer?”
“That and more,” he said, watching me for a reaction.
“I don’t think that’s wise,” I said. “But what ‘more’ are you talking about?”
I had an uncomfortable pressure building in my chest. I didn’t want Emmet to skip the internship at the law office. He was lucky to have the position in the first place, and he was learning a wealth of information that would aid him when taking the bar and in his subsequent career.
“I’m going to take a year or two off from school,” he said quietly.
I felt my eyes widen, and my mouth fall open. I shook my head slowly, indicating that I didn’t think that it was a good idea at all, and it wasn’t. Emmet had one more year to go before he got his bachelor’s degree and then he had at least three years of law school ahead after that. The years were going to be long enough without putting one or two empty ones before them.
“Why?” I choked out. “Why would you want to do that?”
Emmet turned his body towards mine and cradled my face in his hands.
“Donya, I don’t want to live without you anymore. I can’t stand being away from you. I want to be able to kiss you every morning, every night, and as much as I damn can in between. I can’t go through another year like this, and if what Helene said is any indication of what’s to come, it will only be worse, or better for you, but worse for us as a couple.”
I held onto his wrists and carefully pulled his hands away from my face.
“Emmet, you only have one year left of college,” I made a sound of exasperation. “And that internship is important. You were incredibly lucky to get it in the first place.”
He frowned and sat back away from me. “That wasn’t the response I expected.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, but I don’t really think you thought this through.”
“I thought it through enough,” he said defensively.
“Emmet, you can’t…” I said, shaking my head. “Your parents will have a fit for one, and you’ll lose your trust fund money if you drop out.”
“I don’t care what my parents say,” he frowned. “And money isn’t everything.”
“No, but it sure is nice to have when you want to go to a prestigious law school,” I said. “And if you take a year or more off, you may ruin your chances of getting into the law program. I can’t let you do that.”
Emmet scowled. “You’re not letting me do anything, Donya. It isn’t your decision, and I can get into some other law school later.”
I wanted to smack him in the head and wake him up. He was on track to graduate with honors and was almost guaranteed a place in Harvard’s law program. He was willing to throw away all of the hard work and money spent on his education and go to some community law school so that he could be with me. In t
heory, it was a romantic gesture, but in reality, it wasn’t a great move.
“I think you should think about this a while longer before you make any permanent changes,” I said.
“You don’t want me to be with you?” he asked with a disbelieving and hurt look on his face.
“Of course I want you to be with me,” I snapped though I didn’t mean to. I had taken a breath before I spoke again. “It’s just that I really want you to live your life, too, Emmet. Law school is important to you.”
“Donya, you are my life,” he said. “And you are the most important thing to me in the world. My mind is made up.”
He got off of the couch and went into the kitchen. I sat there staring out of the window at the Eiffel Tower in the distance, with a feeling of dread.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Weeks later, Emmy and I sat in a busy New York café sipping cappuccinos after a small salad with no dressing for me and an enormous cheeseburger and fries for her. I had put on a couple of pounds, absently eating all of the wrong things over the weeks. I wasn’t anywhere near fat, but one designer disagreed. He told me to come back Monday with a smaller ass. I was lucky that he didn’t replace me instead, so I took the hint and got to work on minimizing my ass.
Emmy was telling me about the colleges she had applied to and the responses she got. She was excited about getting accepted to Penn State. She and Fred had visited the campus last spring, and she had liked the atmosphere and the course selection, but she wanted to get her bachelor’s degree in business administration as soon as possible and was already considering ways to cut some time off of her four years. She seemed very motivated, and I wondered if she would ever give up her education to be with someone she loved. Fred and Sam would probably blow gaskets if she did.
That was another thing to worry about. I worried that Fred and Sam would blame me for Emmet dropping out of college and subsequently derailing his future. They were the only family I had and I worried that his decision would put an enormous rift between us. Fred and Sam didn’t put a lot of demands on their kids, but a college education was a must, and though none of the other kids ever attempted it, I was pretty sure that dropping out to follow your girlfriend or boyfriend around the world wasn’t an acceptable reason not to go to school.