Tethered

by L. D. Davis

  I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to put my hands in his hair and pull his head to mine and get back what I had been missing for almost a year, but I didn’t. I took another step back and bit my lip. While Emmet and I had been rather cozy, holding hands and what not, I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to go any further than that. We were both still hurt from our breakup and we were living in two different universes. It made me sad to think I may never get to kiss him again, but I was relieved to have his friendship, and his hand to hold. For the time being.

  “I’ll call you when I’m finished,” I told him.

  He pushed his hands in his pockets and also took a step back, as if he had been thinking the same things as me.

  “You’re going to be great,” he said and smiled sadly.

  I couldn’t help the frown that formed on my face before I turned away from him and went inside.

  The casting call lasted all day. The good news was that I was one of a few girls chosen. The bad news was that I was one of few girls chosen. A good portion of the next day would be spent working, which meant that I would not be spending that time with Emmet.

  I didn’t complain about it or whine about it, because like Emmet had said earlier in the day, I was doing what I went to New York to do, and honestly, I was beginning to get very excited about my future prospects. I was able to get some work on my own, but after several weeks in Felix’s presence, many more doors opened for me. Sometimes it really was about who you knew.

  Later that night as we were walking aimlessly after our pizza dinner, the sky opened up to give us a good dose of a spring thunderstorm. Since Emmet’s hotel was nearby, we went there.

  “There is something I want to show you,” Emmet said, once we were on the elevator to his floor.

  I lifted an eyebrow. He smiled and tapped me in the forehead with two fingers.

  “Pervert.”

  I blushed and said “I didn’t say anything.”

  I was standing in a corner. Emmet closed me in by placing his hands on the railings on each side of me. We were both wet from the storm. Emmet’s t-shirt clung to his chest and his wet hair was mussed. The rain did something to amplify his scent, because the smell of his cologne and his skin was a deluge on my senses, and I felt myself squeezing my thighs together.

  “You were thinking something,” he admonished quietly, gazing at me with those sparkling eyes.

  My eyes roved over his wet, muscled body. I licked my lips and said “You’re not a mind reader.”

  “I don’t have to be a mind reader,” he chuckled softly. “It’s written all over your pretty face.”

  The elevator came to a stop and made a soft chiming noise. Emmet stepped away from me and held out his hand. I took it without hesitation and followed him out of the elevator. When we walked into his room, the first thing I noticed was the enormous bed that dominated the room. Images of Emmet’s body pressed to mine drifted lazily into my brain and I was just as lazy about sending them away.

  “Written all over your face,” Emmet said, grinning at me.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said lightly and turned away from the bed.

  I walked over to the large window and pulled back the curtain. My hotel room view was of a busy street and other buildings, but Emmet had a beautiful view of Central Park.

  “I guess you’re getting good use out of your newly acquired trust fund,” I teased lightly.

  All of the Grayne kids were trust fund babies. They start getting quarterly payments at the age of eighteen, but it wasn’t free money, not exactly. As a stipulation of the trust, they were required to go to college or join the military. There was no toleration for failure, a minimum GPA had to be maintained or they were cut off. Once out of school, they had to be employed full-time, unless they were a married female with a working husband. The payments decreased over the years, too. There were more stipulations, but since they never applied to me, I didn’t care to remember them.

  Emmet stood very close behind me. His wet chest was against my wet back.

  “Is this what you wanted to show me?” I teased, trying to hide how nervous I suddenly felt.

  “It’s not, but do you like it?”

  “I do,” I said. “It’s a beautiful view, even in the rain.” I sighed contently. “I love New York.”

  Air seemed to vacuum out of my lungs when Emmet wrapped his arms around my waist.

  “You seem to have adapted well to the city,” he said and I could feel his voice vibrating against my back.

  “I had to adapt quickly,” I responded with a shrug. “The city moves pretty fast, and the modeling business moves even faster. I had to leave my preconceptions and emotions at the state line.”

  “Your emotions?”

  I shifted slightly in his arms. I had not meant to bring up my emotional state upon going to New York. I was nervous about the life I was about to begin and sad for the one I was leaving behind. I didn’t want to leave my best friend and my other friends and family and I was still very much heart broken. My mind was still very much full of Emmet and my regrets. I had to harden myself, and it was a good thing I did, because rejection didn’t come easily. It wasn’t always just a “no” or “we’ll call you” and you receive no such phone call. It was sometimes a “you’re too fat” or “you’re too dark” or “you’re too plain” or my favorite one was “whoever told you that you could be a model lied.” Yes, I had to grow some hard skin, and that had to come from the inside out. I had no room inside for tears, remorse, and heartbreak.

  “What about your emotions?” Emmet pressed when I didn’t answer.

  “You already know,” I said dismissively with a smile as I moved out of his arms and took several steps away. I was careful to avoid the big bed as much as possible. “Do you have a dry shirt I can borrow?”

  Emmet sighed. He looked frustrated and angry, but he also looked sad and regretful. I understood the mix of emotions because I felt the same way. His suitcase was open on the floor on the other side of the bed. He went over there and produced a t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts.

  I thanked him and went into the bathroom to change. I looked at my watch while I was in there. It was a little after nine, but I would have to get plenty of sleep before reporting to work in the morning. I was going to have to cut my night short with Emmet and take a cab back to my hotel within the hour. I was feeling a little let down that I wouldn’t get to spend too much time with him before he headed back to Cambridge to begin an internship, but maybe it was for the best. I would get accustomed to him being around and the fact was that it wasn’t a reality for us.

  I walked out of the bathroom holding my wet clothes with one hand and the hem of the shorts with the other hand. The shorts were just too baggy for me and the draw string really didn’t help. I had it cinched tightly and the shorts still managed to slide down as I moved. Several steps into the room I gave up and with an exasperated growl, I let the shorts fall to the floor. I scooped them up and tossed them to an amused Emmet.

  “I like you better bottomless anyway,” he said with a teasing smile.

  I ignored the crazy thoughts his words put in my head.

  “Very funny,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Are there laundry facilities here? Maybe I can throw my stuff in the dryer.”

  “Sure, I’ll take them down for you in a few minutes, but first…” He pulled open the drawer of the one of the bedside tables and produced a camera. “I’m not leaving New York without a few pictures of you, and us together. What kind of a guy would I be if I personally know a super model and don’t have any pictures of her or with her?”

  I laughed and said admonishingly “Emmet, you’ll have few days to take pictures. Can you wait until I’m not half naked? Seems pretty suspect to me.” I crossed my arms and looked at him with raised eyebrows.

  He laughed, too. “I swear to you that I was going to ask for pictures regardless of what you had on. I had no idea that you would end up in my room half naked.”<
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  I rolled my eyes and sighed in defeat. “Can I at least brush my hair first?” I asked, reaching for my bag.

  “No,” he said, holding the camera up to his eye. “I like you just the way you are.”

  “My hair is a mess,” I cried, trying to cover my head and face with my hands.

  Emmet closed the distance between us and batted my hands away.

  “You’re perfect. Put your hands down.”

  “I’m perfectly disgusting you mean!”

  Emmet captured one of my hands in his and held it firmly while he looked me in the eyes.

  “Donya.” Emmet said my name with authority, making me freeze and I just barely swallowed a gasp. He gave me a look of warning before taking several steps back.

  I had no qualms about taking my shirt off in a room full of people the day I met Felix, and I had done it once more during another shoot. On more than one occasion I had modeled underwear and bras, and I still did not feel as nervous as I did standing before Emmet in his t-shirt and my messy, wet hair. I felt more self-conscious than I ever remembered feeling.

  Emmet grinned at what he saw through the viewfinder. I didn’t understand why, because I couldn’t even make myself smile at first. I just stood there, fidgeting with my hands in front of me, biting my lip and trying to fade into the background.

  “Photographers must love photographing you,” he murmured. He was taking shot after shot. Some he moved in close for, some he backed away for, and other times he turned the camera at an angle.

  After a couple of minutes, Emmet paused and walked over to me, with the camera in one hand. He smiled softly at me and without warning he used his free hand to tilt my head aside and kissed my neck. I shuddered and closed my eyes as his tongue made lazy circles on my skin.

  He pulled away from me, and though my eyes were still closed, I heard the clicking of the camera. When I opened my eyes again, I was a little more relaxed and slightly giddy. I found myself smiling and not so fidgety.

  “Thanks for showing up,” Emmet teased behind the camera.

  I grinned and rolled my eyes.

  “Oh, I love that attitude! Give me more sass.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him.

  Behaving like an over the top photographer, Emmet started shouting out various expressions and poses he wanted me to make and saying ridiculous things when I did it. I was laughing and having a good time doing stupid poses and making faces that no real photographer would ever want to see on my face.

  “Alright, you’re totally hogging all of the camera time,” Emmet said after putting in a new roll of film. “Time for some pictures with me.”

  He stood beside me and turned the camera around.

  “Even though I will outshine you in these pictures, don’t doubt that you’re kinda pretty,” Emmet said with such a serious expression that I burst into laughter.

  We had no way of knowing how the pictures would turn out without anyone manning the viewfinder, but we took picture after picture anyway. We made faces, we said stupid words other than “cheese” and did poses that I was sure would not turn out well on film since we were taking the pictures ourselves.

  Sitting on opposite sides of the bed, we took turns taking pictures of each other. I made Emmet flex his biceps and make intimidating faces that only cracked me up and he made me put on sunglasses and a hat that made me look like a total fool.

  “Come over here,” Emmet said after he lay down on his back across the bed.

  He pulled on my arm until I was beside him, looking up at the camera. I threatened to punch him if he dropped the camera on my face and then I smiled for a few pictures. He slipped his free arm under me, drawing me closer. He planted a kiss on my cheek, making me smile, and took the picture. We did several more similar poses before Emmet insisted on a lip to lip kiss.

  “I am a professional, ma’am,” he had said in a very deep voice that had me giggling. “This pose is for professional purposes only. Please do not take advantage of the situation and slip me your tongue.”

  I laughed and laughed even harder when he loudly puckered up.

  “Come on,” he said, trying not to laugh as he kept puckering his lips. “My arm is getting tired holding this damn camera.”

  Finally, I stopped laughing long enough to also pucker my lips. I tried not to snicker as his duck lips touched my duck lips. When I heard the camera click, I giggled.

  “One more, one more,” Emmet insisted, chuckling. “Come on, stop laughing. We’re professionals here.”

  I laughed for a few more seconds and then puckered my lips once again. Emmet brought his lips to mine and held the camera above us once again. My lips touched his and even though it felt weird with our lips puckered and silly, it also felt very familiar and I couldn’t help but to gently touch his face as we posed for the picture. Once the camera clicked, however, neither of us immediately pulled away. Our lips relaxed, and the silly duck-like kiss became much less silly.

  Emmet’s lips moved slowly and gently against mine. Even as I heard the clicking of the camera, I pressed my mouth a little harder to his. Another click as Emmet gently nipped at my bottom lip and soothed it with his lips. Another click as I dragged my tongue along his top lip. Finally, the camera was set aside and Emmet used his free hand to hold the back of my head as his tongue slipped between my slightly parted lips.

  He kissed me sweetly, softly, and slowly, as if he was relishing every curve and corner of my mouth, and tasting every taste bud on my tongue. His hand moved over the curve of my neck, between my shoulder blades, and down my spine, over the curve of my butt and onto my bare thigh. It was only then that I remembered I was only wearing the tee and panties, but I didn’t let that stop me from kissing Emmet, but when Emmet pulled away from me, I gasped in protest.

  “I still have to show you something,” he said.

  “Now?” I asked in disbelief. “Your timing is really, really bad.”

  He laughed softly and kissed my nose. “Stay put.”

  He got off of the bed, leaving me feeling cold and a little frustrated. I sat up and sat with my legs crossed and his shirt pulled down over my knees as Emmet dug around in his suitcase.

  “Close your eyes,” he said.

  I gave him a look of exasperation.

  “Close your eyes,” he repeated more firmly.

  I growled, but I closed my eyes as Emmet laughed at me. A few seconds later I felt him put something on the bed, but since I didn’t hear any telltale sounds, I had no idea what it could be.

  “Okay. Open.”

  I opened my eyes and looked down. A few inches from my folded legs were a jar full of Hershey Kisses and a jar with a single candy heart in it. The jars I gave to Emmet.

  I stared at the jars with my mouth hanging open. I didn’t know what to think or how to feel. It didn’t appear as if any of the kisses were missing. Was he giving them back to me? Did he, in essence, not want my kisses? Did he not want my heart? I frowned and looked up into his face.

  “Every damn day since the day I dug these out of my suitcase, I’ve wanted a kiss,” Emmet said softly. “And I wanted to hold the person who so kindly bestowed upon me her heart. I put these jars on the table next to my bed. They were the last thing I saw every night before I crashed and the first thing I saw every morning when I woke up. When things got to be too much, I would hold this heart jar and think about your face and your smile and try to remember how your voice sounded in my head. I bought you the bracelet as an even exchange.” He smiled and touched the bracelet on my wrist. I was surprised to see big drops of water falling on his hand. I realized that I was crying and hurriedly turned my head away and tried to wipe away my tears. Emmet put his fingers under my chin and gently turned my head back so that I was looking up at him.

  “Thank you for these jars, Donya,” he said hoarsely. “I will always have them with me when I don’t have you, but I wanted you to know that whenever it is possible, I want the real thing.”

  His thumb dragged
across my lips and then he used both hands to wipe away my fallen tears.

  “I love you,” he told me. “I’ve never stopped loving you and I never will.”

  I looked down at the jars and carefully picked them up. I leaned over the bed and as carefully as I could I put them in his suitcase. Then I got on my knees, grabbed Emmet by the collar of his shirt and yanked him forward. I kissed him hard and deep, making him groan. He reached out to touch me, but lost his footing and stumbled forward. Our lips didn’t part as I fell backward and as he fell on top of me. He readjusted his body so that it was stretched over mine and kissed me greedily. Our mouths fought for domination, but Emmet battered my mouth with his and I gladly submitted.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Hot. Slick.

  Beads of perspiration form on my neck and between my breasts. My fingers twist in Emmet’s hair as his lips kiss away the beaded moisture. My back arches as he fondles a taut nipple between his fingers. My lips fall open with a moan and his other fingers catch the moan as it escapes my mouth and spreads it across my mouth, over my jawline and down my body. His mouth closes over my other nipple and I cry out his name.

  My shirt had been gone for some time. Right after Emmet pulled my shirt off of me, I pulled his off of him. To be fair, I also insisted that he lose his shorts. When he settled back over me and pressed his bare skin to mine, I wrapped my arms tightly around him and held him close. His skin was scorching against mine. It didn’t matter how hot it was outside, I wanted to envelope myself completely in Emmet’s heat.

  His teeth grazed my nipple and nearly sent me over the edge. He grinned up at me as he switched to the other nipple. He pulled the hard bud into his mouth and flicked his tongue across it, making me moan and writhe. Grasping my breast in his hand, he opened his mouth wide and filled his mouth with my flesh. He moaned as he suckled and I moaned with him. Every lick and nibble and pinch to my nipples sent ribbons of electricity shooting down between my legs where pressure slowly built. I tried to close my legs and press my thighs together to relieve some of that pressure, but Emmet’s body on mine made it frustratingly difficult.