Three Lovers in Barcelona (BBW MMF Contemporary Romance)

by Ava May

  WARNING: This eBook contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This eBook is for sale to adults ONLY

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  © Copyright 2015 by Ava May - All rights reserved.

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  Three Lovers in Barcelona

  Taboo Romance

  Ava May

  Three Lovers in Barcelona

  Chapter 1

  The plane roared through the blue sky. As she looked outside the window, Emma saw the white fluffy clouds around her, and below was the shimmering blanket of the Atlantic Ocean. The sun gleamed off the surface, and there was no land in sight. She looked at the screen in front of her and sighed when she saw how many hours were left until she touched down in Barcelona. Already, she was feeling tired and her eyes were aching after watching a few films. Out of the window, she could see a faint reflection of herself, and almost couldn't believe that she was actually going.

  For a long time, her dream had been to visit Europe. Now it was coming true, and even though it wasn't happening in quite the way she had imagined it, she was still excited. The plane was packed around her and everyone else was either asleep or minding their own business. The meals had been handed around so the air was filled with the scent of processed meats. Beside her was an empty seat, and although she tried not to stare at it, it was a constant reminder of the life that awaited her when she returned to America, which she was dreading.

  Initially, she had planned to go on the trip with her boyfriend, Matt, as they wanted a romantic getaway together. The planning was exciting and they spoke so often of all the things they would see and do, and she was glad to share this trip with someone so dear to her heart. And yet it was not to be. She knew that thinking about him would only cast a shadow over her trip, and after all the build-up, that was the last thing she wanted. Despite that, he’d been a huge part of her life, and now that he was gone, it was hard to carry on.

  Everyone had told her not to go on the trip and to try and salvage her relationship, but things were beyond that stage. This was a trip she had been planning for a lifetime, and she was damned if she was going to let it fall apart at the last minute for Matt, even if she had loved him. But it was over now and she couldn't let him back into her heart. Not after the way he had treated her. There was more to life than settling down, and if she had to do this trip alone, then so be it. Sadly, there were other couples on the plane, and when she saw them snuggle together, she felt pangs of longing for some comfort, but immediately reminded herself that she was a strong, young woman, and that the world was at her feet. She thought about the person who inspired this trip, and tried to take lessons from her. Feeling tired, but not wanting to sleep, Emma pulled out a notebook and a pen from her bag and started her travel diary.

  Chapter 2

  I'm writing this on the plane to Barcelona. This trip has been a long time in the making and I wanted to talk a little bit about the inspiration behind the trip. I dedicate this to my grandmother, Olivia Harding. Some of you may know her name, for she was a photographer. Some of her pictures made it onto the cover of Time magazine and other publications, but to me, she was always Gran. When I was younger, I loved going over to her place and being told stories of all the knick-knacks she had collected. Every one of them had some strange story behind it. Looking back now, she could have made up a story for each one, but somehow, I don't believe she did.

  I listened with awe as she told me about these wonderful, exotic countries and the interesting people living within them. I knew from a young age that I wanted to experience similar things that she did. The world seemed much bigger than my small hometown, and I wanted to see as much of it as possible. Of course, it wasn't always easy because of responsibilities like school and jobs, but whenever I had a spare moment, I was planning the trip and making notes of different places I wanted to see. It became a frightening behemoth because there was so much, I didn't think I'd ever get to do it all in my lifetime.

  Then, I found out my grandmother was dying. I never had to deal with death before that, and I couldn't quite comprehend what it meant. She was ill—really ill—and I hated seeing her so pale and weak and frail, lying in bed. And I knew she hated it as well, since she had always been an active person. All I wanted was for her to get better and get back to doing what she did best: living life. But sometimes the body just isn't as strong as the soul. So she slipped away and I spent as much time with her as possible. I listened to all the old stories again, and pretended like it was the first time I heard them. I showed her my plans as well, and she smiled, and said that no matter what I did with my life, I should make sure that I saw the world.

  I promised her that I would, and now I'm fulfilling that promise. She left me some money as an inheritance with the condition that I only use it for traveling, something my mother hates because she'd much prefer that I was responsible and use it for something else, but I think people are too consumed with surviving instead of living. When I'm on my deathbed, I want to be like my grandmother. I want to have incredible stories to tell and magical memories to make me smile. Hopefully, this is going to be the first of many.

  Of course, as I sit here, hundreds of miles above the earth, I have to admit that it wasn't easy. I am just going for a short break to Barcelona. It was supposed to be a longer trip with my boyfriend, but that… well… it didn't work out. Perhaps I'll go into more detail later, but for now I wanted to keep it to my trip. I'm watching the sea pass by below me, and I'm surrounded by people that all have their separate lives. I'm wondering if I'm the only one undertaking a pilgrimage of sorts. The plane is loud and claustrophobic. It's so strange to think that we can put people in a metal tube and send them thousands of miles across the world in a matter of hours. I'm lucky enough to be part of a generation in which this is commonplace. Imagine being a sailor on an expedition to another country that could take months or even years. As I start my own journey of discovery, I find myself paying homage to the explorers who forged the way before me. There isn't much new land to discover in the world, but there's always something new to discover about ourselves.

  Chapter 3

  Emma tapped the pen on the paper and felt satisfied that it was a good first entry. The rest of the flight was boring and long, and despite her best efforts, she did succumb to sleep. She woke with a start to find everyone putting on their seat belts as the plane made its final descent. Now, when she looked out of the window, she could see the small buildings dotted around a lush green country. The sun shone down on it as though it were being kissed by celestial beings. With a bump and a thud the plane landed, then rolled to a halt. Everyone rushed to get their bags while Emma waited patiently, knowing that there was no rush to anything.

  Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she made her way through the airport to where her luggage was sliding along the carousel. For most of the way, she was carried through by the mass of people she had been flying with, but after she'd picked up h
er bags and made her way through customs, she was on her own. As soon as she stepped out of the airport, she realized just how alone she was. The anxiety twisted inside her as she looked around and only saw strange faces and signs written in an unfamiliar language. Back at home, she'd always had a support network, and help had only been a phone call away; but now, she was isolated.

  She pulled out her map, on which she had marked all the relevant landmarks, and walked up to a taxi driver, who spoke to her in broken English. He recognized the place she was pointing to, and ushered her into the cab. He drove recklessly along the freeway and shouted angrily to other drivers who weren't up to his standard. Emma licked her lips and uneasily felt about herself, just making sure that she had all her valuables stashed close by. Given the speed at which they were traveling, it didn't surprise Emma that they reached the city swiftly, and as they did, her eyes grew wide.

  The architecture was stunning. The city had so much history about it and was a far cry from the generic town in which she grew up. Already she could feel the culture seeping into her bones, and she felt enlivened by it. Now that they were in the city the driver had to slow down, but this gave Emma a chance to take in everything around her. The buildings were old and crumbling, and people walked about without a care in the world. Somewhere in the distance a bell was tolling, and as she looked in between the buildings she could see spires poke up. Emma wasn't a religious person, but being in the presence of such monuments of faith was enough to make her feel awed.

  As they drove to her hostel Emma flicked through her guidebook and felt elation sweep through her as she marked certain landmarks. The monotony of the flight had already disappeared, and she couldn't wait to go exploring.

  Soon enough, the driver stopped, and she stepped out of the cab. The hostel was a small building and didn't have any distinguishing features apart from a small sign that jutted out above the doorway. The driver made sure that she was okay, and then drove off. Emma took a deep breath, and walked inside.

  She was greeted by a slender blonde woman with olive skin. She was slim, and had the kind of figure that Emma had always envied. Being a curvy, beautiful woman was all well and good, but there were some times when Emma wished she knew what it was like to have a toned, tight waist. She was shown to a room with a few bunk beds, although there wasn't anyone else in the room at the moment. Emma claimed one of the top bunks and threw her bag there. The woman was friendly, and gave her some suggestions of places she should go and visit, and some of the best bars. Emma took all her advice on board.

  The nap she had on the plane, coupled with her natural excitement, meant that she was ready to start exploring. It was late afternoon, and the siesta was just finishing, so the city was beginning to become alive again, and Emma was ready to throw herself into it.

  Chapter 4

  Well, what a first day that was! It's about 11 at the moment, although it feels much later because the jet lag is catching up with me. When I first arrived in Barcelona, I felt so intimidated by the history of the place. There's nothing like it in America. I know we take a great deal of pride in our nation, but we're fools if we think we can hold a candle to the rest of the world. I only went for a quick stroll, but already I've seen so much. I walked along the cobbled streets in the alleys winding around the houses, and I caught a glimpse of the main tourist area. It was so crowded I could barely move and I think I'll try and stay away from it as much as possible. I came here to experience local life, and that's what I intend to do. I went to a small cafe and had some paella for dinner, which was lovely. So far, the people have been very friendly and forgiving of my English. I haven't met anyone else in my room yet. From what I understand, the Spanish nightlife lasts, well, all night long—so maybe I'll hear them when they get back later, but right now I'm exhausted and I can feel my eyelids getting heavier by the second.

  With that, she let the pen drop onto the pad with a dull thud and felt herself drift off to sleep. When she awoke in the morning, it was to the sounds of people talking and getting dressed. Emma rubbed her eyes and her head appeared above the bunk.

  “Hey, American! You are finally awake,” a French man said, smiling at her. There were another two men and three women standing around. All looked to be around the same age as Emma, and as they spoke and introduced themselves, Emma realized that they had different nationalities. Pierre and Jacques were French, and the other man was from Poland, called Josef. The girls were made up of an English woman named Jessica, and two Australian twin sisters, Kim and Karen—these two giggled a lot.

  “We didn't think you'd ever be awake. I wanted to wake you last night to welcome you to the best room in the hostel, but the others said that it was not such a good idea,” Pierre continued.

  “I, um, well, thanks for that I guess. I'm Emma,” she said, and began to clamber down.

  “If you'd like to join us, we’re going to grab some breakfast and then head to the beach,” he said. Emma, figuring that meeting new people was just as much a part of the trip as exploring the city, decide to take him up on his offer. After a quick wash, she followed the group downstairs where they had some cereal, and then they went out into the streets. Emma made a point to memorize where she was going, just in case she needed to find it later. Pierre was an outgoing man and seemed to be able to speak to anyone they passed. Josef was much more reserved and seemed to be hanging out with them because it was better than being on his own. The twins were giggling to themselves and walking arm in arm, but Jessica fell into step with Emma and struck up conversation.

  “You'll get used to the two of them, they're always like that,” she said, nodding to the Australian twins.

  “I love your accent,” Emma said.

  “Thanks! I love yours too. I always wanted to go to America but I figured I should go through Europe first since it's closer to home.”

  “Have you been here long?”

  “Maybe a week or so. I'm heading down to Portugal after this, and then maybe to Greece or Italy. I haven't decided yet.”

  “Come on, girls. The day is wasting away!” Pierre shouted, clapping his hands. Jessica laughed and bit her lower lips.

  “He's something, isn't he?” she said, lowering her tone of voice.

  “Are you two...?” Emma inquired.

  “No! I mean, well, kinda. We kissed a couple of times, but it's nothing serious. I mean, how serious can it be? But… yeah, there's something there,” she said, and gazed at Pierre wistfully. “How about you? Do you have anyone back home?”

  An image of Matt flashed through her mind. “No, no one at all,” Emma said, and smiled. The two of them chatted more as they walked through the city. The others pointed out places of interest to Emma, and she couldn't wait to see them for herself.

  When they got to the beach, Pierre stripped off his clothes and ran along the soft sand to jump into the sea. Jessica and Emma remained on land, rubbing lotion into each other.

  “I shouldn't stay here too long, I'm supposed to be exploring the city,” Emma said, and talked about how her grandmother had inspired the trip.

  “There's plenty of time for that. I guess it might be different from where you're from, but I'm English so I need to soak up the sun wherever I can get it!”

  “Yeah, I guess. It just feels like there's never enough time to do everything I want. The world is so big.”

  “Tell me about it. When I was planning the trip, I realized I'd have to be a millionaire if I wanted to see all the places I wanted, but I'm so glad I came out here. I feel like a different person already. I'm dreading going back home.”

  “No fun there?”

  “That's putting it mildly. My house is a nightmare at the moment. There's stress all over the place, and I really don't know what I'm going to do with my life.”

  “I know that feeling,” Emma said as she rubbed lotion into her leg and then looked out to the horizon. The golden sun glowed and sunlight danced upon the water, making it glitter. A few kids ran around, laughing gleeful
ly, while older people lay in the sun, their leathery skin soaking up the rays. “I'm out of college now and this should be the time when my real life begins but I don't know what to do. Figured it was better to get some life experience.”

  “What did you study?”

  “English Lit.”

  “Ah, so you want to be a writer?”

  “How did you guess?”

  “Elementary, my dear,” Jessica said with a twinkle in her eye.

  “That's another reason why I wanted to do the trip. I'm writing a diary about my experiences.”

  “Well, you know, experiences only come from spending time with other people, not from going after buildings. If you want to have good stories to tell, I think you might have to change your expectations for the trip.” What Jessica said certainly gave Emma food for thought, and as she looked around the beach she was awed by just how many people there were. All of them had their different stories, different dreams, different desires, and she knew that's what people were interested in, and she knew that's what she wanted to write about. As the day went by, she watched Jessica be pulled into the sea by Pierre, and caught the eye of some Spanish men watching her. Back home, she'd never gotten much attention from boys, so when these swarthy, tanned men winked at her, she flushed crimson with embarrassment, and initially wondered if it was some kind of trick. Not long out of a relationship, she wasn't sure what she wanted, but the attention was appreciated.

  Chapter 5

  A girl I met today told me that if I'm to write a great story it has to be about the people I meet, so that's what I'm going to try and do from now on. My first full day wasn't as I expected. I thought I would go through the Catalan region and see the quirky architecture, go shopping in the Boqueria market, and see the Sagrada Familia church. Instead, I spent the whole day at the beach with my new friends. Let me tell you a little about them.