Undying Love

by Nelle L'Amour

  “Allee,” I shouted out to her.

  Her mouth dropped open when she saw me. She galloped down the steps, attempting to run past me, but I caught her and held her firmly in my arms. She squirmed, trying to break away, but she was no match for my strength. I studied her face. Her eyes were painfully sad and her cheeks were sallow. She had lost weight.

  “Get away from me, Madewell,” she begged. There were tears in her eyes.

  I didn’t let go of her and, in fact, squeezed her tighter. “Why haven’t you returned my calls?”

  “Madewell, please! Let go of me.” Her voice was watery and desperate.

  “No, you’re not going anywhere until you answer my question.”

  “I don’t belong with you. You’re too good for me.”

  “No, baby, you’re too good for me.” I pressed her even tighter against me.

  Thunder roared in the night sky.

  “Please! I’ve gotta go home and get ready for a massage client.”

  Maybe she had just been overworking. Fuck her client. I tugged hard at her ponytail that hung out from under her funky hat. “You’re coming home with me.”

  “I can’t.” She blinked back tears. “You don’t understand—”

  “Stop it!” I crushed my lips against hers, hushing her, and pulled her down to a sitting position on the step where we were sparring. She couldn’t resist my assault. Her tongue hungrily met mine, and a hot bolt of energy surged through my body.

  Lightening flashed, and another loud burst of thunder followed. The sky opened up, and torrential rain fell upon us. But it didn’t stop us. Soaked, our embrace deepened, the warmth of it fending off the icy chill of the pounding drops. I don’t know how long it lasted, but she was the first to pull away. Wet streaks rolled down her cheeks… tears, not the rain.

  “Why me, Madewell?” she asked, her voice hoarse and strained.

  “Because, Allee Adair, I’m suffocating without you. You’re the air I need to breathe.” Cradling her in my arms, I removed her rain-streaked glasses and brushed away the shimmering rivulets dripping down her face. Just the mere touch of her infused me with light.

  She looked deep into my eyes, hers still watering. “Oh, Madewell, I’m so afraid.”

  “Afraid of what, baby?” I held her tear-drenched face in my hands.

  Her lips quivered. “That I’ll hurt you.”

  That wasn’t possible, I thought as I swept her into my arms and carried her down the rain-soaked steps, my lips never leaving hers.

  I carried her straight into my bathroom steam room. She was shivering wet. I set her down and rapidly peeled off her drenched layers of clothing. I removed mine just as fast. She let me wrap my arms around her naked body and hold her close to me as a cloud of steam warmed us. Tears were still streaming down her beautiful face, mingling with the steamy mist. I sealed my mouth over hers and kissed her deeply and passionately. With my lips still covering hers, I lifted her up off the water-coated tiled floor.

  “Wrap your legs around me, baby,” I breathed into her ear.

  She did as I asked, twisting her long limbs around my waist like a pretzel. I carried her to the edge of the steamy room and pressed her against the dripping wet back wall, just high enough so that my cock could shoot easily into her glorious pussy. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders.

  “Baby, I’ve missed you so much.” I studied her angelic face, made dreamy in the steamy haze. My lips latched onto hers and pressed into another deep, tongue-driven kiss. Her velvety breasts skimmed my chest. I groaned as my girth grew between my legs.

  “Oh, Golden Boy,” she rasped as my mouth released hers. “Make me come.”

  I was going to make her come hard. With my hand, I angled my hungry cock and guided it inside her. Her inner muscles clenched around my hardness. Such a warm “welcome back!” We both moaned with pleasure.

  I dragged my cock back down her own steamy, wet walls, and then pressing her tight against the tiles with my hips, I picked up my pace, grinding into her with ferocity and velocity. Her rhythmic moans let me know I was hitting all the right spots. Her legs squeezed tighter around me, and my hands moved to her hips to keep her steady against the wet, slippery wall as I pounded faster and harder. Panting now, she fisted my hair with one hand and raked my back with the other. My breathing grew ragged with hers. As I built toward climax, the steam hissed in my ears.

  “Come for me, Allee,” I cried, pining to feel her shudder around me before I came.

  “Oh, Madewell!” she screamed out as her orgasm broke loose.

  “Oh, baby!” I groaned back. With a final deep thrust that made her whimper, I exploded inside her as her waves of ecstasy rippled around me.

  I held her up against the wall for several long minutes, my pulsing cock still inside her, and then set her down onto one of the seating banquets that lined the other walls.

  “I’ll be right back,” I breathed. I ambled to the glass door, turning my head to glance at her before I exited. In the cloud of steam, she looked so ethereal leaning back against the wall, with her eyes closed and her long damp tresses falling loosely over her full breasts. The sight of her otherworldly beauty made my balls tingle.

  I came back to fetch her, scooping her up in my arms to transport her to the hot bath I had drawn. I gently lowered her into the deep copper tub. The water rose to her buoyant breasts. Scattered scented candles threw off muted lighting, bathing her in a golden haze, and Jason Mraz’s “I Won’t Give Up” filtered softly through the built-in speakers.

  “That’s a beautiful song,” she said softly, her soulful eyes gazing up to meet mine.

  “Yeah. It reminds me of us.” We still had much to learn, but what I did know is that she made me whole in a way no one ever had. There was no way I was going to let her go. Getting down on my knees, I threaded my fingers through her loose, damp hair and cherished the feel of her.

  She shivered.

  “Are you still cold, baby?”

  “No,” she rasped seductively. “I’m hot. Hot for you.”

  My cock twinged. It was aching again for her. Swelling and throbbing. I slid gracefully into the tub behind her. I lifted her buttocks onto my thighs and folded my arms around her taut torso. My hands groped her supple breasts, massaging and squeezing them. As her nipples hardened, she arched back her head and, with eyes closed, hummed to the melody of the song. Her sensual, husky hum tugged at my heartstrings. It came from somewhere deep inside her, a sad, distant place I didn’t know or understand.

  Leaving one hand on a tender breast, I sponged her back and neck, alternating the dabbing movements with flutter kisses. She tasted and smelled so delicious. I let the sponge fall into the water. Nibbling the nape of her neck and earlobes, I moved my hand to the soft folds between her legs. After stroking them, I rubbed her clit with the pad of my thumb. Around and around, in firm little circles, the way she liked it. Her nub hardened quickly. Her chest rose and fell as her breathing grew heavy. I just couldn’t get enough of her.

  “Are you ready for me again?” I breathed in her ear. I was a ready as ready could be. My cock, a pillar of hard flesh between my legs. A torpedo ready to be released.

  “Take me, you fucking son-of-a-bitch.”

  Her dirty talk turned me on even more. I lifted her a few inches off me and spread her legs slightly, making way for my thick, hard, pulsating dick. With one forceful thrust, I dove into her from behind. The sudden deepness of me inside her made her yelp. I splayed my hands firmly over the haunches of her hips and ground up and down her warm, wet tunnel. Gripping the rim of the tub for support, she bounced up and down, meeting my every thrust, deepening the insatiable pleasure her exquisite pussy was giving me. I felt my cock swelling inside her as I drove toward another orgasm with single-minded fury. Our moans and groans washed out the music. She was riding me to heaven.

  This time I wanted to come with her. “Now!” I growled.

  “Oh, Golden Boy!”

  As she came shuddering aro
und me, spasms rocked my cock. My whole body shook as I bathed her blissfully with my molten release. It was the most mind-blowing orgasm I’d ever had.

  I told her I loved her; I couldn’t help it.

  From that moment on, Allee Adair was officially my girlfriend.

  TEN

  We fell into a routine. We got up together, had coffee, went for a jog, and then fucked our brains out, which could be anywhere from the elevator to the bed to the kitchen counter. Then we showered together, sometimes unable to resist each other, and got ready for work. I usually walked, dropping Allee at the local subway stop. I urged her to let Marcus drive her to the Met, but she refused, saying it would take too long and not look good among her fellow staffers.

  Most nights, we went to my health club together and then came home and ordered in Allee always paying for half. But at least once a week, Allee would make me dinner. She was a fantastic cook, having mastered Julia Childs’s recipes to make her feel like Paris was at her fingertips. Usually, after dinner, Allee would read an art history book, curled up on a couch, and I would write. Not articles for Arts & Smarts, but rather short stories. I had shown Allee my revised story about the father and son, and it had brought tears to her eyes.

  “That’s the way, Madewell,” she said to me.

  “Do you really think it’s good?” I responded in disbelief.

  “No.” She paused, making me quiver with doubt. “It’s great. Now shut up and write another one before I change my mind.” She poked her tongue out at me. I wanted to suck it. Man, she was infuriating. Such a tease!

  And, of course, every night when we were together we would make glorious love. Usually more than once. Sometimes all night long. We couldn’t get enough of each other, and I missed her every minute she was away from me. She was not allowed to text or make personal phone calls while at her job except during her short lunch break, so the days at work were particularly frustrating for me. It didn’t stop me, however, from sending her sexy text messages. All day long, I longed to hold her and smother her with kisses. My mouth ached with desire and so did my dick. More than occasionally, I had to hide my boner under my desk or jerk off in the men’s room. It was pretty amazing I got any work done at all.

  Our life together was so different than the one I had with Charlotte, who had insisted on dining out seven times a week at some posh Upper East Side restaurant where she usually didn’t eat a thing. She never wanted to eat downtown or stay at my place, as she couldn’t stand to be away from “her people”—rich, snobby Upper East Siders. Sex with Charlotte was perfunctory. Get it in and get it out. She needed her beauty sleep. Most weeknights, we never had any.

  Talking about my ex, we bumped into each other a couple of times, but each encounter was icy and uncomfortable. Though I had seen her linked with other eligible billionaire bachelors in various gossipy publications, my mother told me she was furious with me, but convinced I would come to my senses. Neither she nor my father was pleased that I had dropped her. Neither were Charlotte’s hoity-toity parents who had already reserved The Pierre for a June wedding. My mother wanted to know if I was dating someone new. I told her I was. She was eager to meet her, and so was my father. Both hoped she came from as pedigreed a family as the Vanowens. The last thing I wanted to do was to introduce Allee to my drunken mother or subject her to my judgmental father. Unfortunately, at some point, that dreaded meeting would have to take place.

  There was only one downside to living with Allee. She was still at Sid’s beck and call. A few times a week, he would call, and she would have to go directly from her job at the Met to a massage client. Still suspicious of Sid, I wanted her to stop with the second job. It took her away from me and made both of us irritable.

  “I can easily pay off your college loans and any other debts,” I told her one night after a delicious session of making love.

  “Madewell, I can’t accept your money,” replied Miss Feisty and Independent.

  “Well, then, maybe you can work fewer hours at night.”

  “I’m trying to work it out with Sid. It’s not that easy. Let’s not talk about it anymore. Please.”

  Knowing I was never going to win this battle, I had no choice but to let her continue with the extra job. On those nights, she always went back to her apartment in Queens. I had only been there once—to help her pick up some clothes and bare necessities to keep at my loft. Located in an ethnically-mixed section of Forest Hills, it was a small, rundown flat but furnished with flea market finds that reflected Allee’s quirky personality and gave it charm; posters of her favorite Impressionist paintings hung on the wall. I insisted that she let Marcus drive her there when she was done with her massage appointments. But again, she adamantly declined, preferring to take the subway. It made me sick with worry that she traveled there alone late at night. She told me to get over it. She was a big girl who had taken care of herself her entire life. The only thing I’d gotten her to agree to was giving me her cell phone number so that we could be in touch all the time. I begged for a set of her keys in case she ever lost them or in case of an emergency. But she refused.

  We spent our first Christmas together. We both agreed to buy each other a present, but only under Allee’s stipulation that we not spend a lot of money.

  “Madewell, if you buy me something expensive, I swear I’ll return it and never speak to you again,” she had threatened over dinner one night.

  “Will you still let me make love to you?”

  She did her infuriating eye roll. “I’ll have to spank you first.”

  A spanking from my girl sounded very appealing. My cock tingled.

  While I was dying to buy her something super expensive like the vintage diamond watch I’d seen in the window of a local antiques shop to replace the shabby cloth band one she wore, I ended up buying a beautiful, thick collectors’ book containing reproductions of all the paintings that hung in the Musée D’Orsay.

  “Oh, Madewell, I love it!” she beamed as she unwrapped it under our tree Christmas morning. Little did she know that it cost several hundred dollars, even on eBay. She flung her arms around me and initiated a deep passionate kiss. As my lips melded against hers, my cock hardened, wanting more.

  My gift was a large heart-shaped chrome key ring—something I desperately needed as I was always misplacing or losing my keys. On it were the keys to her apartment as well. It was about time, and it made me feel better knowing I now had easy access to her apartment in case of an emergency. I returned the kiss.

  I thanked my lucky stars that my parents had flown to their house in Aruba to escape the frigid winter weather. Allee prepared a delicious beouf bourguignon dinner, which we consumed in the late afternoon with a bottle of hearty Burgundy wine. Afterward, we retreated to my bed and fucked our brains out until we could fuck no more. We cuddled together and watched Miracle on 34th Street. I gazed up at my skylight. Snow was falling.

  Allee Adair was my miracle. My angel. The best Christmas present I’d ever gotten. After one last orgasmic round of kissing, stroking, licking, and groping, we drifted off facing each other. Skin to skin. Organ to organ. Heart to heart.

  Three months into our relationship, Allee came flying down the steps to the Met when I went to pick her up, something she rarely let me do. It was Valentine’s Day, and she had reluctantly agreed to let me take her to dinner at the Café des Artistes, easily the most romantic restaurant in the city. Wearing a vintage faux-leopard coat that she had found at a local flea market, she looked radiant.

  “Guess what!” she beamed as she climbed into the Escalade. “I’m going to Paris for a year!” She flung her arms around me.

  My heart practically stopped. “What do you mean?”

  “I won a fellowship to study art at the prestigious École des Beaux Artes. I applied for it last year.”

  I grabbed her by her shoulders. “What am I going to do?”

  “You can come with me. Write in the Café de Flore like Hemingway.”

  “It d
oesn’t work that way. I’ve got a fucking job. I run a magazine.” Rage was seeping through my veins.

  “Then we’ll go our separate ways.” Her expression darkened. “Hey, Madewell, I know our relationship isn’t going to last forever. You’re a Fifth Avenue gazillionaire, and I’m a poor girl from Queens. It’s just a matter of time until you find another Charlotte.”

  So she thought she was some kind of Band-Aid? I was hurt, not only by her lack of trust in me, but also by her own lack of self-esteem.

  “But how will you support yourself?” My tone was resentful and challenging.

  “It includes living expenses, and besides, I’ve saved some money from my other job.”

  Damn that other job.

  “I don’t want you to go.” I was loud and clear about it.

  “But I’ve waited my whole life to go to Paris.”

  “And I’ve waited my whole life for a girl like you. Allee Adair, will you marry me?”

  It came out as simple as that. On Valentine’s Day. Stuck in traffic at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Seventy-Ninth Street.

  She gasped in shock. “You want to marry me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why me, Madewell?”

  “Because I’m madly in love with you.” I looked her straight at her. She didn’t blink.

  She stared at me blankly and made my heart thrum with one of her unreadable “hmms.”

  “Well…”

  “Yeah.”

  I crushed my lips onto hers so that she couldn’t say another word. Or change her mind.

  ELEVEN

  Although I hadn’t yet picked out a ring (I wanted it to be unique and special), Allee and I were officially engaged. On the first day she had off from the Met, I introduced her to everyone in my office. They all loved her. She was warm, affable, and funny. So different from stuck-up Charlotte who treated everyone like dirt.