“Don’t hold back, Em. I can feel it coming.”
His face dips down to where his hands are and his mouth is ravenous between my legs. His tongue slips inside, entering me the way I picture he might.
When he finally does.
Senses are heightened but I’m mostly listening. The sound of us is beautiful. My breathy gasps and his throaty groans. It turns me on more than anything.
My hands are spread, palms on the hardwood floor and I’m partially sitting up, watching him. And then I’m blind and I’m yelling out his name. He doesn’t stop. He quickens his tongue fucking and I’m flat on my back, letting myself experience it, not holding back for once.
When I stop shaking, I feel his hands, those talented hands, running up my thighs, yanking my body close so I’m firmly seated on his thighs. My body is angled toward him, like it’s his for the taking and I can’t think of a better position to be in.
“You’re this timid little creature but when I touch you, you come alive. I want to touch you forever, Emerson. My fingertips belong on your skin.” As if to prove his point, he runs his fingers over my thighs, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
He plants his palm on my quivering abdomen and looks at me, his thumb hovering over that sweet spot. One hand on me, the other fisting himself and inching closer until we’re aligned. He’s the only one keeping us from the connection I crave. Then his eyes are on mine, so dark they look black, and I see the question in them. Is this okay?
My tongue feels so thick in my mouth that I can only muster up a breathy ‘yes’ before he’s looking down between us again. I trust him in a way I’ve never trusted anyone before, and all of these feelings are making my body shake even more. I’m about to have unprotected sex for the first time with this man who makes me feel everything all at once.
“I wonder if this is what Eve felt like before she bit the apple,” he whispers before pushing forward and I don’t wonder for once. I know if she felt a fraction of what we feel between us, man was doomed from the start. Maddox is flexing his hips slowly and I want him to go faster. I feel like he’s only giving me a taste and I want it all.
I open my mouth and he looks up from our joined bodies at me.
“I can’t read your mind.”
My skin feels hot and tingly and still I want more.
I groan and he pins me with his gaze. His hips are still moving slowly and I want to scream.
“I can’t hear you, Emerson.”
I shake my head and reach up, scratching his arms, trying to urge him on. His hands drag my hips to him over and over and I am at the mercy of his pace.
“Tell me,” he says, his voice gritty and a little louder this time.
“Harder,” I yell. And he does. Harder, faster, everything I need. My small breasts react to each thrust. I’m about to lose it when he pulls out with a grunt, his orgasm hitting my thigh.
“Turn over.”
I do without hesitation, untangling myself from him. I feel his cum run down my leg. He pulls my hips up and pushes my back down, and I press the side of my face against the floor. I can’t help the way my arms stretch over my head, my hands grabbing each other. I’m still so close and he hasn’t even done anything to keep me on the brink.
He pushes into me again and I wonder how in the hell….
His stamina leaves me breathless.
It’s a frantic rhythm now, one where I don’t know how to say a word other than his name against my arm. I chant it and then I’m coming and Maddox is still going.
I collapse with a cry and pull away.
“Too…sensitive…” I say and turn so I’m flat on my back, trying to find a way to get the oxygen I need in my lungs without sounding like I just went for a run. Before I know what’s happening, Maddox is pulling me into his arms and carrying me up to his bed where he loves my body again.
A few hours later, I’m on my back on his bed, and it’s the first time I’ve seen where he sleeps for myself. It doesn’t matter that I’m naked, covered in the marks Maddox left behind. It doesn’t matter that I’m partially under the covers and when I look over the ledge of the loft, I can see our clothes covering the studio floor.
What matters is the way he’s pressing his lips against the small of my back, the same place his hand has been many times. It’s like he’s going back and erasing that nearly meaningless gesture with something that means so much more.
He’s mumbling something and it sounds like…counting. I look back at him just as he runs his finger over the beauty mark on my hip.
“Five…” he finds another, “six…” and another, “seven….”
Maybe love doesn’t change much for some people, but I feel it between us. The way one imagines a blown kiss would feel. He’s less hesitant to touch me, and I’m less hesitant in general.
I look up and notice a painting looking down on us. It seems…sad but it’s too beautiful. It’s like the saddest song, its melody leading the paintbrush and the paint. All kinds of blue cover the massive canvas.
“What’s this?” I ask, and he presses his cheek into the slight concave of my lower back.
“A painting,” he says and I smile.
“I know.” I brush my hair away from my face and wonder what led to this painting being in his possession and it being hung so near his bed, where he dreams. “I didn’t know you collected art.”
“I don’t but this isn’t just art. She’s one of the most talented artists I’ve ever come across.”
When I hear that the artist is a woman, I instantly wonder what they were before. Is that the reason she hangs so near to him? Is that why her work watches him during his most vulnerable time?
“Is she your friend?”
I feel his smile against my skin.
“I don’t think anyone is ever really her friend.” He reaches his hands up and runs his fingers down my back. “I was in Seattle on business. I managed to go to a showing of hers and I was astounded by her work. It left me speechless. And you know me. When I want something….”
“Yeah, yeah,” I tell him as I turn over to lie on my back. When I’m situated, he rests his face on my abdomen.
“I commissioned this piece. When she asked what I wanted, I told her to paint what was in her heart. This is what she came up with.”
I run my fingers through his short hair.
“Looks sad.”
“Well, yeah. But she wears her sadness beautifully. Unlike so many people who verbalize their grievances, she carries the weight of it silently. She kind of reminds me of you that way. You’re quiet in general. But you’re so quiet about your hurt.”
He knows me well by now, but I’m still shocked by his astute observation. I wonder what it would be like to live a life with a heart that looks like that. Beautiful but so broken.
“What’s her name?”
“Noa.” He kisses my stomach. “Noa Cruz.”
I look at the ceiling and smile.
I don’t know why, but I have hope for her.
“Are you happy?” I ask Maddox.
The question sounds so easy, so flippant but the answer means so much.
“Yes,” he says without hesitation.
“Yes?”
He nods and a few moments pass before he speaks again.
“Want to know how I know I’m happy?” he asks, his fingers lacing between mine.
I nod this time and wait to hear it.
“Everything before is fading.” He smiles and it hurts so good. “That’s how I know it’s real. When I can’t remember a past before you and I fear a future without you.”
I sit in silence and wonder how things got to be so good. They’re so good that I worry they may be too good.
“Hey,” he starts, breaking me from my thoughts, “want to meet my friends?”
I sit up and he follows, at ease. Like he didn’t ask me something that may change our relationship. We tried bringing our relationship out into the public, and it didn’t seem to work out for us.
“They know about me?” I ask instead of panicking over my need to preserve us.
“Well, yeah. You said you didn’t want anyone at Kingsley knowing. They don’t work there and don’t know anyone there so I thought it’d be fine.”
I’m running my teeth over my lip and he smiles again.
“It isn’t a big deal, Em.”
I drop my head back on the pillow.
“If you want me to, I will. I just hope they’re nothing like Hollis’ friends.”
Maddox laughs.
“I don’t think there are many people quite like Hollis’ crowd.”
I’m glad one of us isn’t worried about this. Since he’s in such a good mood, I feel the need to broach the subject that’s been on my mind.
“What are your plans for Christmas?” I ask.
“I was hoping we’d spend it together. I can cook dinner, we can put up a tree this week….”
He loses steam as I remain silent, not reacting at all though it sounds lovely.
“What if I spend half the day with you and half with my dad?”
He sits up and I almost continue to lay there because I don’t want to see him upset.
“Or you could tell him we’re together and you wouldn’t have to split the day,” he suggests, but I don’t want to hear it. It isn’t the right time to tell him, what with our personal rift and hearing he may be making a comeback. I worry that it’s because he isn’t impressed by my work performance, and I can’t help but think that if I tell him, he’ll be disappointed.
Rule number one in business? Don’t sleep with your employees. I just broke that rule. Several times and in ways that make me blush thinking back on it.
“I’m…I’m not ready,” I tell him as I sit up, still afraid to look at him.
“You know what? Fine.” He gets up and starts to put his clothes on. “Spend the day with your dad. Don’t worry about me.”
“Maddox,” I start.
“No,” he waves me off when I try to grab his arm. “I’ll be fine.”
He steps down into his kitchen area and I feel so cold up here by myself. So I wrap myself in his sheet and walk down the steps to get dressed. The entire time, he says nothing. Not until I’m completely dressed.
“Heading out?” he asks over his cup of coffee and I nod, afraid to say anything to make the situation worse.
I have my things and I’m slipping on my shoes at the door when I look back. He’s looking down at his mug. I have to say something. I can’t leave us like this.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my hand on the door’s knob. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I would never want to hurt someone I love.”
He looks up at me and our sad smiles mirror one another.
“I know,” he tells me, but he doesn’t move to stop me so I leave.
When he calls me later and we exchange apologies, I have to wonder if this is a crack that will one day turn into something similar to that unbearable distance my father and I share.
Chapter 23
The week rolls by quickly and by the time the weekend rolls around, I’m realizing I’ve totally forgotten about meeting Maddox’s friends. I groan in frustration and before I can pick up my phone to call Holly into my office, he’s walking in, a frown on his face.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes, I’m just…I have nothing to wear. It’s moments like these when I realize I need a personal assistant who likes to shop.” I drop my head onto my desk.
“It’s a good thing my current lay works at Bergdorf, then,” he says before sitting across from me in one of the white wing backed chairs.
“What’s his name?”
“Bobby.”
“Bobby and Holly,” I start to sing and he shakes his head.
“You know me. They don’t stick.”
“Yeah, well. That may change.” He grunts and I laugh. “Have Bobby messenger over a few options, please. Please?”
He nods and pulls out his phone to text him.
“How’s everything going with Maddox?” he asks when he’s done.
“I feel like if I say we’re perfect then something bad will happen but if I tell you there are imperfections, I’m opening up the door for negativity.” Welcome to the wonderful world of neuroticism.
“Or you could just tell me you guys are doing great and leave it at that.”
“We’re great.” I push my chair back and put my heels up on my desk.
“Feet hurt?” I look at my emerald pumps with adoration. They’re one of my favorite pairs.
“Nah. These are comfy.”
“You seem a little on edge.”
“I’m meeting his friends tonight.”
“You managed to open up to him. Now you just have to open up to his people.”
“I guess I was hoping he’d be a little more like me. All I have is you and my dad.”
“And only one of us knows what’s going on between the two of you. When are you going to tell your dad?”
“The only reason you know is because we live together. The less people who know right now, the better.”
“Because you’re still hung up on what these idiots here think of you,” he says, and I’m so annoyed already that I can’t help my response.
“No. It’s because I’m a woman and I’m meant to take over some day and if I’m fucking people who work for me, they’ll think I earned what I have on my back or because of who my father is.”
Hollis’ eyes are wide and I know it’s because I cursed, but I can’t always watch my mouth or my temper.
“Sorry,” I say even though I’m not.
“Don’t worry about it,” he tells me. “I’m more surprised than anything.”
“I’m stressed and now I have to meet his friends and that means opening our relationship up for judgment and opinions. Everyone knows he’s older than I am. I hope no one makes a big deal out of it.”
“You have to be ready for that, Em. Maybe someone doesn’t judge you today but there’s always tomorrow.”
He’s right. With everything going on, I’ve forgotten how right Holly usually is.
“Bobby said he’ll send someone over soon. I gave him your sizes.” He stands and reaches over my desk to pat my cheek. “Chill out.”
We meet Maddox’s crowd at a little bar in SoHo where the music is indie and the people are hipsters. Immediately I realize that I’m dressed a little too uptown for this crowd, but I make the best of it in my skirt and blouse. At least I wore a leather jacket.
“There they are,” Maddox says, oblivious to my fashion faux pas. I should’ve realized his crowd would be wearing beanies and band tees. Maddox isn’t as downtown as his crowd, but I get the vibe from him.
“Emerson,” he starts, grabbing me close by my hip, “this is Stella,” he points to a woman who offers a small smile, “Gary,” he points to a man whose smile is a little bigger than Stella’s, “and James.” James comes up and hugs me, and I get the feeling he’s the friendliest of the bunch. He’s also the youngest looking. Stella has laugh lines, but it’s her hands that are a dead giveaway. It’s always a woman’s hands. Gary’s hair is greying at the temples.
“Nice to meet you,” James says, and he lets me go.
We all move to a table in the corner and immediately they’re all talking, and I’m feeling a bit left out but I don’t pout. I just take in my surroundings. It’s a bar so it’s dim but it has a cozy feel to it.
“Emerson?” Maddox pulls me from my observations.
“Hm?” I ask.
“Gary asked how long you’ve been working at Kingsley.”
“Oh,” I smile, “unofficially for a few years now but I started full-time recently.”
“What made you want to go at it full-time?” Gary asks, and I hear his accent for the first time. British.
“An artist requested me for her album so I figured the time was right,” I tell him, hating that I had to unintentionally name drop though I didn’t actually say her n
ame.
“What artist?” Stella asks.
“Oh. Uh, Asa….” I don’t finish because I don’t know that she really needs to be explained.
“Poor thing. Every time she sings I feel like dogs are crying all over the world.”
Stella is a bitch, I decide. Still I smile, especially when Maddox holds my hand under the table. We haven’t been right since our little argument, and I want so badly to make it right with Christmas right around the corner.
“Have you finished your schooling, then?” Gary asks, and I shake my head.
“No. It wasn’t really for me. I mean,” I look at Maddox and he smiles, “my father was self-taught and he’s all right.”
“I tried to tell them,” James says, “a degree is just a piece of paper.”
“Well, you’re also talking to someone who makes a living handing out those sodding pieces of paper,” Gary says before getting the waitress’ attention.
“Whiskey all round, love,” he orders, his hand circling the table. I can’t help my grimace.
“You don’t like whiskey, Emerson?” Stella is, of course, watching me.
“Not particularly,” I answer. “But it’s fine. I wasn’t really planning on drinking. Maddox can have mine.”
“She’s young. Hasn’t quite grown into her tastes,” she announces, as if she can recall when she was my age and didn’t like whiskey, and I want to tell her I’ll never like whiskey.
Maddox rubs my shoulder with his hand and leans to whisper in my ear.
“Don’t worry about Stella. She’ll grow on you.”
I nod and continue to look around. This is the most awkward meeting I’ve ever experienced and I know the minute I’m alone with Stella, she’ll try to sink her teeth into me. She’s already brandishing them in her compact as she touches up her lipstick.
The night goes on with stiff conversation and Maddox drinking here and there to keep the time passing. I’m annoyed by his lack of backing on the Stella front. He tells me he’s seen an old friend of his when he gets up from the table and shouts someone’s name. A man with a potbelly turns and they embrace and before I know it, Gary is gone and James is hitting on one of the waitresses. Stella and I sit in silence for a few minutes, but I’m waiting for her to say something venomous. She’s had all night to come up with whatever it’ll be.
The Sound of Serendipity Page 19