Lost

by Jennifer Davis

  “Never better,” I whisper, nuzzling my lips across his ear and onto his neck. “You managed to successfully wear me out this morning,” I giggle. “Should we get dressed and get something to eat?” I playfully kiss his neck and nibble his ear, unable to keep my hands off of him.

  “Oh I’m hungry all right,” he says naughtily. His tone instantly tells me that he’s not looking for a meal just yet, but another piece of me. Again? I’m not sure my body can take any more of this! He tucks a piece of my blonde hair behind my ear as he moves his lips across my neck. He slowly works his way down my neck with soft kisses, nuzzling his nose into my body, and then uses it to push open my black satin robe. I feel Jack Junior growing even more excited as he inches down me, enjoying the easy access to my body. My legs fall on either side of his and I rock forward onto my knees, leaning down to bring my body closer to his. My robe cascades off my shoulders with the help of Jack’s eager hands, pooling the fabric around my waist. I raise myself up a few inches so I can reach down and slide off his boxer briefs, all the while Jack’s hands continue to work their way down my body. His Calvin Kleins shift down his strong legs, and his rabid animal is released from its cage. I lower myself back down onto him, using my body to push his sex stick flat against his stomach. My body sits against him and Jack moves his hands around to my back, holding my hips. I sit up straight, placing my hands on his chest to support my body.

  “What an amazing view!” Jack looks up at me eyeing my body. “You’re unbelievably sexy, Jess.” I blush at the compliment, wanting to believe his words, but never really doing so.

  “You’re not so bad yourself.” I smile. His hands move up my back, pulling me down to him for a deep kiss. Our tongues explore each other’s mouths and my hips slide and rock against the smooth, taut skin of his cock. The feeling on my clitoris is spectacular so I continue sliding myself up and down against his shaft, still keeping it outside of my body. I feel myself getting more excited by each movement so I slide my hips further up so that the tip of his penis touches the opening of my peach. I repeat this motion, increasing the desire between us. Jack pulls my hair while our kisses grow deeper and stronger. I try to control myself but the feeling is too intense. Jack pulls his mouth from mine, watching me pant and moan as I slide up and down him. Part of me wants him inside of me, but this sensation is too strong to stop. Holy shit, I’m going to explode and he’s not even inside of me. “It’s ok, baby, just let yourself go,” he encourages me. Those words are all I need to hear to send the shockwaves through my body. My mouth falls open, moaning as my body releases.

  “Jess, are you ok?” Jack asks, half laughing and clearly pleased with himself for doing this to me.

  “Uhhh, um yes, I’m great,” I manage to moan.

  “Can you handle any more? We’ve got to do something about this.” Jack laughs, nodding down toward his engorged muscle.

  “Well we certainly wouldn’t want you feeling neglected. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I left you high and dry?"

  “Good, because I’m not done with you yet either.” With that, Jack takes my hips and slides me forward, and suddenly his throbbing cock fills me for the third time today. I am in awe of its perfect shape, so thick that it’s a very tight fit inside me. And it’s the perfect length, repeatedly hitting my internal bullseye. His hips control our speed, and this time I feel something even deeper. My last orgasm is still fresh and I quickly feel that tingling inside of me starting to build. My arms push against the bed beneath me, supporting my upper body. As I ride this beautiful man I feel his mouth move onto my nipples, sucking and teasing. I feel my body start to ache for release and I move faster, up and down his perfect penis. The sucking on my breasts is bringing me closer and closer, and suddenly my body explodes around him, even more intensely than the last time. Jack’s body quickly responds to this sensation and we find ourselves coming in unison.

  ***

  Once the aftershocks have passed I lie panting on top of Jack. The intensity has drained me completely. His arms secure me against him and I feel so close to him. We lie like this for a few moments until I get the energy to pull myself off of him.

  “What we need is a shower and some lunch. I’ll hop in first, you can lie here and recover,” Jack says sweetly, leaving with a soft kiss on the forehead.

  “Mmm sounds good to me!” I watch my beautiful man, my boyfriend, walk away in his birthday suit from the bed to the shower. I hear the water start, and my mind starts to drift. Before I know it I fall into a dream, picturing myself in a wedding gown, staring back at dapper-looking Jack in a tuxedo. Sex is not love, Jess. Don’t confuse the two. I remind myself of this reality, but I can’t help but think about him. What’s not to love?

  three

  “Come on, baby, let’s go!” Jack calls to me as I finish the final touches of my makeup before we begin our Paris exploration.

  “Ok, almost done. Someone didn’t let me get much sleep this morning, so I have some dark circles to cover up.”

  “Really?” Jack feigns surprise, his reflection nearing mine in the mirror. “That’s odd, I remember being in bed since we arrived.” He plants a juicy kiss on my neck, sending shivers down my spine. His hand trails down the curve of my waist, and arousal drips through my veins. “Maybe I should take you back to bed,” he seductively suggests.

  “Rain check?” I say innocently, tugging on his growing erection. “I did drag you all the way to Paris after all, we should probably see more than the four walls of this room!”

  “Huhm,” Jack mumbles, shaking his head at my ability to tease. I watch him pout as I dig through my suitcase, deciding what to wear. I settle on my black velvet pencil leg pants and a tight black sweater. I add a pop of color with my scarlet red scarf and throw on my tan walking boots.

  ***

  The falling snow has suspended, and we walk down the Champs-Élysées to the metro station. We decide to spend our first afternoon checking out all of the amazing historical delights in le Louvre. As we approach the world-famous museum it doesn’t seem all that spectacular. Typical historic European buildings frame the streets, and we walk past them for a few blocks before stumbling upon a stunning glass-constructed pyramid, signaling we’ve found the museum.

  Nearly an hour into our cultural exploration, I peer at Jack, intrigued by the great works of art. He looks so refined today, his dark jeans, fitted black sweater, and dark rimmed glasses create an artsy air about him, which he wears quite well. His dark blond hair shines underneath the faint museum lighting, preserving the centuries-old masterpieces. I stride up next to him, and he places his arm around my waist as we both gaze at the Mona Lisa. I slide my arm around his back too, feeling the soft wool sweater, and give him a squeeze. I allow myself to enjoy this moment. My feelings for him grow exponentially with each glance, smile, and touch from him. And, now that I’ve sampled his goods, I’ve validated his beautiful man muscle isn’t just for show. It’s for showing me what sex is supposed to be! I freeze my thoughts for another realization—I’ve never, ever felt this way about someone before. Oh my God. I swallow hard. Is it possible? Could I really be falling for him, uhm, falling in love with him already? My heart radiates with the idea as my brain fills with fear. Be real, Jess, everything seems too perfect. Do you really think that suddenly you can have a perfect boyfriend, with a perfect relationship, and fall in love? In Paris of all places? Damn it! I pull my hand away from Jack, frustration filling me from my own self-doubt. Come on, Jess, you haven’t felt love for all twenty-five years of your existence, why would it fall into your lap now? I want to bitch-slap my hideous inner thoughts, but I can’t help but know it’s true. Even if my unloved self is right, I can’t help but want to finally feel this for someone, and have it returned. But could Jack really be the one to do that?

  “What’s wrong, babe?” Jack questions me, reaching his arm toward me.

  “Nothing,” I lie, not wanting to share my unfounded insecurity of our relationship. “What time is
it? I want to be sure we have time to see the last wing before it closes.”

  “4:30,” Jack advises, reading from his phone. I watch a slight furrow form on his brow as his finger swipes across the screen.

  “Everything ok?” I question him. The phone distraction continues, and I watch him shake his head as his eyes dart back and forth, reading something on the screen. I stare at him, awaiting a response, and realize that he’s too lost in this to have heard my question. I slide my arm into his and lean in to get a glimpse of his phone.

  Remember V day last year? Vail. Hot tub. Falling snow. Skinny dipping. Champagne. <3 Miss you.

  My eyes try to quickly read the sender’s name: Lela. Jack senses that I can see the screen, and shuts it off. What the fuck?

  “Everything ok?” I ask, feeling my heart beat through my chest, trying to recall who this Lela might be.

  “Yeah, it’s nothing important.” Jack gives me a weak smile, which I don’t return. “Really, babe, it’s nothing even worth discussing. Nothing I even care about, just a stupid distraction.” This time his smile is sincere, and he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close.

  “What?” I ask, his stare making me feel uncomfortable.

  “Nothing. Can’t I look at my beautiful girlfriend?" I smile and try to push doubts of his insincerity aside, remembering that love requires a bit of faith and even the risk of a broken heart. I move in and elevate myself on my toes so I can lean in and kiss him. His lips are soft, supple, and draped with reassurance of his feelings toward me, which is exactly what I need right now.

  four

  The hotel room is warm and a very welcome reprieve to the cold outdoors. The sun has gone down and the temperature has dropped right along with it.

  “You ready for a night on the Paris town?” Jack’s warm, sexy smile and his relaxed expression allow me to momentarily forget the museum texting situation.

  “I can’t wait,” I say honestly before excusing myself to the bathroom to doll myself up for our first evening out in Paris.

  My red lace dress flatters my figure perfectly. The V-neck cut allows for a tasteful, yet adequately sexy, display of my décolletage. The dress hugs my waist, showcasing my curves. My eyes are decorated with a light brown shimmery eyeshadow and lined with a darker brown to draw out the gold and brown tones within them. Curling my lashes gives them an extra flirty lift. The last step is applying my bright red lipstick. I smile back at myself with approval, knowing this is as good as I get! This vixen is ready to take on the Paris nightlife. And get whoever Lela is out of Jack’s mind.

  I strut from the bathroom, hoping to immediately garner Jack’s attention. “Wow. Babe. I mean wow, you look amazing,” he says, looking up from his computer. Success!

  I nonchalantly answer, “Thanks. Would you be a doll and zip me up?” I motion toward my dress’s zipper, which runs up the side of me, hoping to lure Jack with a peek of my lingerie.

  “Sure. Come.” Those simple words make me think of doing just that on top of him. I walk slowly toward him and pause at the edge of the bed. He pulls up my zipper and pauses after he gets a glance of my black lacy bra and matching panties. I glance at him through my long, curled lashes and see his pants get tighter as he grows with excitement.

  “How about I unzip you instead?” he states, his tone informative rather than inquisitive. He smoothly pulls my zipper all the way down and slides his hand inside of my dress. Strong fingers gently push my hair aside and he begins kissing my neck. His lips move across my collarbone and I feel myself warming between my legs. I grab his head and pull him toward me, anticipating his smooth plump lips. The ringing of Jack’s phone abruptly disrupts my erotic plans.

  Jack grabs his cell from the nightstand beside him, pausing my forthcoming rant. “Hold that thought. It could be work, and they would only call if it’s really important.” My eyes roll in my head with annoyance, but Jack fails to notice, and I try to let it go. I see the words “unknown number” on the screen as he pulls it to his ear, and assume it must be his office. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s been bothered by work when with me. I shouldn’t complain though. He’s a hard-working and driven man, which means he could provide for our family. Stop it, Jess! Slow down with the fairy-tale ending nonsense, it’s been six weeks. My thoughts pause as he answers the call.

  “Hello?” Jack greets the caller.

  “Jack. Hi. It’s Lela.” I faintly hear the female caller’s voice and my heart races with fear and fury. Oh God. I begin racking my brain for all mentions of Lela. We haven’t had many conversations about past relationships, but the few we’ve had haven’t yielded that name. I do a mental inventory of anything related to a Lela in Jack’s house—and then it hits me like a ton of bricks. Just a few weeks into our courtship, I found myself alone in Jack’s home, and used my time wisely to further study some things in his office, namely a photograph of him with another girl: a cute brunette nonetheless. On the back of one of the photos was a written note in female handwriting:

  Thanksgiving 2016

  Can’t wait to visit you in Atlanta.

  All my love, Leland

  I was so enamored with Jack at the time that I didn’t dwell on his past, but allowed myself to enjoy the furiously fast affair that we’d begun. But now, here I sit, the beginning feelings of love being gutted from me. I pause my breath and listen intently, needing to hear every word from the other end of the phone.

  “Hi. This isn’t a good time. I’m in Paris right now.”

  “For work?” I hear her question him.

  “Um, yeah. Just a sec,” he responds, walking further away from me, apparently not realizing I can hear her question. You knew it was too good to be true. He just lied about being with you in Paris. You’re such a sucker, Jess. You really thought you could find love this easily?

  His growing distance prevents me from hearing her next words. “Can this wait?” he asks her. He stands on the other side of the room, too far away now for me to hear her response. His expression is flustered and frustrated as he turns to me.

  “Baby, I’m so sorry, I need to take this call for a minute. Why don’t you grab a drink at the bar and I’ll meet you there in a minute?” I blink as I process this hideous request. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I begin to wince as the pain splits my heart into two, and simultaneous rage flashes through me, furious that he would lie about being here with me. I allow my standard defense mechanism to kick in, my subconscious knowing it’s less painful to be angry than heartbroken. He’s going to kick me out of our hotel room to talk to his ex-girlfriend while he’s here on vacation with me? My blood boils too much to manage a coherent response.

  “Fuck you” are the only words I can muster. I grab my clutch and storm out of our room, desperate for an escape from the fantasy I’d allowed my naïve heart to create for us.

  five

  The Sofitel bar has an old worldly feel about it. I glance around at the traditional interior, giving my blazing cheeks a moment to cool. There isn’t much seating space, but with only a few patrons inside it’s not an issue. A few sofas decorated by rich, deep-colored fabrics in shades of plum and maroon line the main seating area. The walls are natural walnut wood, furthering the feeling of a classically sophisticated speakeasy.

  I slide onto the wooden barstool and ponder a drink choice, my brain blurred and my heart hardened. Here I sit, twenty-five years old, alone and rejected in Paris on Valentine’s Day weekend. This is what you deserve, Jess. The unloved don’t have poetic fairy-tale endings. All I can do now is deal with this situation. There’s no point in feeling sad. It’s a waste of energy. That’s what mother taught me after all. Love, if that’s even what I was starting to feel, is too complicated anyway. What good would that have done? Just set me up for a heartbreak down the road if not now?

  The bartender delivers a cold, refreshing glass of bubbles, and I drink it rather quickly, cleansing my emotional palate of what I always knew was inevitable heartbreak. I contemplat
e my next move. What do I do now? Disappear for the night? Fly home without him? Confront him head on about this? I gulp down my delicious sedative, willing it to fend off any incoming tears, or other signs that I’m just a simple, love-yearning human somewhere deep within.

  I quickly polish off a half glass of bubbles, and feel my hardened exterior rebuilding around me. There’s no point in feeling sad. It’s a waste of energy. I recall mother’s words again and decide I’ll need more to drink if I’m really to believe them.

  “Bon soir.” The soft purr of an Italian-coated accent floats into my ears. I whip my head around and blink rapidly as my eyes absorb the beautiful man before me. “Is this seat yours?”

  “No, it’s all yours,” I say with a smile, gesturing toward the open seat next to me. I catch the sparkling hazel eyes set inside his chiseled facial features and tall frame. His eyes return my stare for a moment before I force mine to release his intensely radiant gaze.

  “No,” he shakes his head. I mean, this was my seat. And I think that was my drink.” He nods to the near-empty glass of champagne I’ve downed, and I quickly realize that I never actually ordered a drink.

  “Oh, God. I’m so sorry,” I blurt out, instantly mortified. I must look like a complete asshole. I storm into this bar and steal the drink of an obscenely hot man, too fiery to even notice I never ordered it for myself.

  “It’s ok. You must need it more than me.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I say, feeling my cheeks become blisteringly hot. “I will pay for this, of course,” I near-mumble. “Can I buy you a drink as an apology?”