“Yes.” She pauses. “Now, did you two actually sleep?”
“We did but I’m sure you didn’t. Did you lose count of all your orgasms?” I giggle.
She scoots into the kitchen. “Let me make us some coffee and we can talk all about our evenings.”
“Bryn, you mind if we discuss later? I was just heading out for a run.” I smile, pleadingly at her.
“Sure thing. We’ll talk when you get back.” She confirms.
IT’S ALREADY LATE AFTERNOON when I am showered, dressed and ready to reconvene with Bryn in the kitchen. I finished what I set out to accomplish on my morning run, going twice as long to makeup for yesterday.
Bryn is sitting on one of the barstools, working on her laptop. I catch her eye then she pats the stool next to her, urging me to come and join her.
“Come on and spill the beans, girlie.” Bryn smiles.
“There’s not much to spill.” Honestly, I love her undying support, but I’m tired of getting the third degree, every time I see Logan. Besides, there’s nothing new to report.
I decide to try another tactic. “So, everything with Josh is good? He’s not losing his taste?” I tease, referring to her analogy about men and gum.
“No. He’s definitely not losing his taste.” She smiles.
I’m really happy for Bryn. She’s had a lot of boyfriends, a lot. But Josh is the first who has kept her interest for this long.
She continues. “I hope you don’t mind but he asked me to go to dinner with him and his parents on Friday.” She tries but fails to sound indifferent.
“Of course not, Bryn! He’s really into you.” I say, excitedly for her.
She can’t contain her giddiness. She clasps her hands and says excitedly, “I know. But I feel bad. I always go out with you and your dad. You sure you are okay?”
I roll my eyes at her. “Don’t sweat it. Seriously.”
“So, how’s everything with Logan?” Her smile is contagious. “He looked very pleased to see you last night. I told you that he’d find you irresistible in that top.”
I smile. “Yes. He’s pretty irresistible himself.”
“Emilia, are you getting all weak at the knees on me?” She teases.
“Can I ask you something and you promise you won’t laugh?” I blush.
She stares at me with overwhelming curiosity. “Of course. I won’t laugh.”
“Well, I do feel weak in the knees whenever we kiss. Is it normal to actually faint when you kiss?”
Bryn whistles. “Wow! Logan must be quite the kisser. Either that or you’ve been reading too many romances. Maybe all those Shakespeare and Bronte sisters’ stories are going to your head?”
“You said you wouldn’t laugh.” I raise an eyebrow at her.
“I’m not laughing.” She says in a matter of fact tone.
“Okay, well stop teasing.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. So, let me get this straight. I know you passed out that time at the track but was that from kissing?”
“No, that was from being dehydrated and overheated.” I explain.
“So you passed out another time? When? Last night?” She asks with a concerned look.
“Well, Friday night and then almost this morning.” I shrug.
Her jaw drops open. “Twice?” She pauses, attempting to make sense of it. “And you think you pass out because of his kissing? You sure it wasn’t from drinking or being overheated?”
I giggle. “Well, I am overheated, that’s for sure.”
“I’m sure that’s all it is. Your hormones are in overdrive, you’re not used to it. Besides there’s nothing wrong with a little swooning, right?”
“Nothing is wrong with me? You don’t think I’m a mess?” I smile slightly.
She giggles. “You’re not a mess. You’re perfect.”
I smile at her and give her a hug. “If I don’t get started on my next essay, I’ll definitely be a mess.”
I stand and start to head out of the kitchen.
“You just holler if you start feeling faint from all that wanton lust in whatever book you are studying.” She hollers.
“Very funny.” I shout back at her, failing to hide my lack of annoyance.
When I get to my bedroom, I throw myself on my bed and pull out my laptop. This week’s essay is on “Wuthering Heights” by Emily Bronte. I’ve chosen to do a character analysis of Heathcliff. When I power up my laptop I find I have an email from Logan.
From: Logan Prescott
Subject: Your alarming habit
Date: Sunday, October 28, 3:15pm
To: Emilia King
Emilia,
I hope you are home safely after your run. I worry about you collapsing since you are so prone to fainting spells.
Let me know or else I may have to come back over there to check on you.
Logan
__________
From: Emilia King
Subject: Your alluring habit
Date: Sunday, October 28, 5:35pm
To: Logan Prescott
Logan,
I’m still standing. Thank you for your concern.
Although do I need to remind you that it’s you that mostly causes me to feel faint?
Emilia
__________
From: Logan Prescott
Subject: Practice
Date: Sunday, October 28, 5:38 pm
To: Emilia King
Emilia,
Like I said earlier, I know how we can work on avoiding that. You know I’m always happy to pay you a visit.
Logan
__________
From: Emilia King
Subject: Practice
Date: Sunday, October 28, 5:41pm
To: Logan Prescott
Why don’t you stop by on Wednesday?
Emilia
From: Logan Prescott
Subject: Practice
Date: Sunday, October 28, 5:42pm
To: Emilia King
I look forward to that, sweet dreams, beautiful.
Logan
22
NOW THAT IT’S WEDNESDAY, I’m having second thoughts. It’s too late to back out now, I’m dressed and Logan will be over any minute. I’m in the kitchen just finishing things up when Bryn is about to head out the front door to go to a Halloween party with Josh. She whistles when she sees me.
“Looking good, Emilia.” She smiles. I turn to look at Bryn. She’s wearing a strapless skintight black mini-dress with sky-high heels and big Jackie O style sunglasses. Her hair is parted to the right side, falling softly down her shoulders, some fringe at the front brushes across her forehead to the mid half of her face.
“You look gorgeous! Who are you supposed to be?” I smile. “Wait. Let me guess. Angelina Jolie?”
She takes off her sunglasses and bites the tip. “No. I’m not Angelina.” She says in her best British accent and rolls her eyes.
“So you’re British! You’re not Catherine or Pippa?” I ask.
“Definitely not.” She says staying in character.
“Give me a hint.” I smile.
“My husband is one of the hottest men on the planet.” She whispers.
“Victoria Beckham.” I giggle. “Is Josh dressing up as your hot husband?”
“Yes. Unfortunately he’s not going shirtless which is how I prefer my Becks. He’s wearing his Galaxy soccer uniform. I guess that’s okay since he’ll definitely be recognizable in it because his name is on the back of it. He doesn’t have tattoos to pull off Beck’s shirtless look.” She laughs.
“Are those Christian Louboutin’s?” I glance down at her black patent pumps with red leather soles; that are a signature of the insanely expensive and famously French designer shoes.
“Only the best for Posh.” She says, referring to Victoria Beckham’s famous nickname she was dubbed when she was with the all-female pop group, the Spice Girls.
“You have to promise me you’ll take a picture of the two of you.” I smile.
“You sure you don’t want to join us? You look totally hot.” She smiles.
“Um. No. I’m definitely not leaving the house in this outfit. In fact, I’m getting major cold feet. You think I should change?”
“You’re nuts. Logan is going to think he’s died and gone to heaven. Do. Not. Change.”
She blows me a kiss and turns on her three-inch heels just as there’s a knock on the door.
“Now there’s no backing out.” She smiles. “Have fun and don’t wait up I’ll be enjoying one of my fantasies tonight too.” She laughs and heads out the door, passing Logan.
I walk towards the front door, as gracefully as I can in my own sexy stilettos. Although they aren’t Louboutin’s, they are equally as high. It takes every ounce of effort for me to walk without tripping since this is the first time I’ve ever attempted to wear heels. I’m a flip flop, Nike girl and these shoes are already killing my feet. I wonder if a six hundred dollar pair of Louboutin’s is more comfortable.
Logan is leaning against the wall, just outside the house. He’s dressed in faded jeans and a black crewneck sweater. His hair is perfectly tousled and I smile to myself when I think he doesn’t have to wear a costume. He’s always dressed to kill even in jeans and a t-shirt. He’s Mr. GQ, looking like he’s just stepped out of the pages of GQ Magazine.
When he sees me, he doesn’t move. I blink nervously at him because I can’t believe I’m actually wearing this get-up. The sexy French maid costume was the last one I could find when I decided on Sunday that I would wear it for him. Since Halloween was just a couple days away I decided it was meant to be since the only one left happened to be my size.
The dress is very short and cinches at the waist with boning, that gives my waist the appearance of being even smaller than usual. There’s a two-layer petticoat underneath the skirt and a tiny apron that ties in the back. The top is very, very low-cut; my underwire bra is on loan from Bryn. The Victoria’s Secret bra is called ‘Bombshell’ and with the extra padding and maximum lift it gives me the appearance of being very bosomy. I’m a pleasant B cup but this bra makes me look twice as big and that’s why I’m not leaving the house.
But his reaction makes it all worthwhile. He blinks a couple times and then smiles that glorious smile that makes my insides melt. When I approach him I grab my feather duster accessory and lightly brush him with it.
His face breaks out into a mega-watt smile as he grabs me around the waist.
“You look heavenly,” he breathes. Then he leans down and softly kisses my lips.
“Is that job opening still available, Mr. Prescott?” I whisper.
“Hmm.” His lips twitch up into that irresistible, sexy smile.
“Anything you want, baby.” He steps back while still holding my hands and admires my costume with a wicked gleam, making his blue eyes sparkle.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” I giggle.
I can feel my face redden as his heated gaze intensifies, his careful scrutiny making me slightly uncomfortable.
“Seriously, stop looking at me like that, you’re making me blush.” I brush him with my feather duster and giggle again.
“So what are we going to do now?” He asks as he pulls me tight against him.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” I ask, trying to not to be too self-conscious.
“Sure, but I’d really like to play with your duster.” He smiles with an amused look.
Ignoring him I walk to the refrigerator and grab a bottle of wine. I can feel his eyes on me as I move around the kitchen.
When I’m about to open the bottle of wine, suddenly his front is pressed against my back and he’s holding me around my corseted waist, pushing me hard against the counter.
He brushes my hair so that it all falls on one shoulder, leaving my neck bare. Slowly he starts to softly kiss behind my ear, down my neck as I attempt to open the wine.
“Is Chardonnay okay?” I shakily breathe. My heartbeat palpitates as my heated blood surges deep inside me.
“Hmm.” His lips linger down my neck and then back up again, following the same seductive path.
“You aren’t making this easy.” I whisper as I turn to face him, we are now nose to nose.
“You are always irresistible but right now, I can’t keep my hands off of you.” He softly caresses my cheek.
“I made dinner.” I whisper.
“Forget dinner, I’m ready for dessert.” His eyes blaze with demanding need.
“I just made dinner.” I murmur. Everything about him is so alluring. His touch, his eyes, his voice, he seduces me with it all, making me completely lost.
“I think you know what I have in mind.” He says between kisses.
“Logan, one fantasy at a time.” I plead.
“Do you not trust me?” He whispers.
“It’s not that.” I whisper. I’m starting to regret this costume choice. Now, looking back what was I thinking? Of course he would assume that this night was my way of saying I’m ready, wearing this fuck-me-now attire.
“Why do I feel like you aren’t telling me something? You know, when you first told me that you hadn’t had sex before I couldn’t figure out how someone as gorgeous as you could have avoided it. But I understand you wanting to wait. In fact, I really respect that about you. You and your delectable body make you irresistible, but your innocence just makes you even more tantalizing.”
“Maybe I should change?” I wistfully ask.
“It doesn’t matter what you wear. You look hot in this costume but you always look stunning. Don’t you see? You are all I want.”
“I want you too but.” I’m lost and the words are caught up in the lump that is now forming in my throat. I just can’t find it in me to explain.
“But, what? I know you are hiding something and we have to be honest with each other. Right?” His voice is soft and quiet.
I nod, staring down. I can’t look in his eyes, my heart painfully tightens and I find it hard to breathe.
Logan caresses my cheek, softly lifting my chin to look into his eyes.
“I don’t know if I can…” I trail off again, my voice shaky.
He pulls me into his arms, my body tight against his as he breathes in my hair. I rest my head against his shoulder, my stilettos, making me substantially taller. After a moment, he kisses the top of my head and pulls back to gaze down at me.
“Logan, I think you might be better off without me.” I murmur. The words come out of my mouth so quickly that I’m surprised I’ve finally said what I’ve been trying to keep in the back of my mind.
“Don’t say that, baby.” He whispers. “I told you that you are all I want.”
“I might not be able to give you what you want, what you need.” I whisper as I blink up at him.
“Emilia, you are what I want, what I need. Why do I feel like you are trying to convince me to leave you?”
“Because maybe that would be best?” I whisper.
“Is that what you want?” He says quietly.
“No.”
“Then I guess you’re stuck with me.” He leans down to kiss me and I raise my lips to meet his, our kiss is passionate and I feel that familiar tingling sensation running through my veins.
He pulls back, his arms wrapped around me.
“I’ll be here as long as you want me. It’s that simple. Okay?” He says with complete sincerity.
“Yes.” I smile slightly.
“This is such an intense conversation while you’re looking so scrumptious. It doesn’t seem fair.” He smiles.
“Sorry.” I shrug. “How about I make it up to you after dinner?”
“The original plan for tonight, practicing?” He leans and kisses me on the lips.
“Yes.” I smile.
“You are everything to me.” He pulls me tight and we embrace, giving us both a chance to find some clarity.
There is nothing left to say at that moment. Our moods shift and the atmosphere between us be
comes much more at ease, more relaxed.
“I have to take these heels off, they are killing me. Do you mind?” I kick them off into the corner of the kitchen.
“Doesn’t make any difference to me. You still look hot.” He smiles.
“Now, go have a seat so you aren’t such a distraction.” I say as I hand him a glass of wine.
“I’m the distraction?” He asks, amused. Then his mouth curls up into that irresistible smirk.
“Are you smirking at me?” I tease. I place the Arugula Salad with Goat Cheese on two small salad plates.
“I am indeed. Did you look at yourself in the mirror? You are the distraction and I thank you for that.”
I giggle. “Well, since it was Halloween.”
“So you won’t be wearing this every day?” He sips his wine.
“I don’t think so.” I say. I slice the Chicken Pot Pie and put it on two dinner plates.
“You and the food look delicious.”
“I hope you like it. It’s an old recipe from my mom.” I smile and I sit in the seat next to him.
“So did you decide on your Friday night plans?” He asks as he takes a bite.
“Yes. We’re going to Brophy’s. You still want to meet us there for a drink?”
“Of course. Don’t you think I should meet your dad?” He looks at me suspiciously.
“Oh, sure. I just didn’t want to interfere with your plans with your dad. That’s all.” I take a sip of wine.
“You aren’t.” He says. Before he takes another bite of the pot pie, he says, “Incidentally, this is delicious.”
I smile. “I’m glad.”
“What’s your dad like? I think all I know is that he surfs and lives in Venice.”
I smile at the thought of him. “He’s amazing. He’s incredibly patient and supportive. He worked as a lawyer when I was little but then when everything happened and we moved out here, he stopped.”
“Oh? So he doesn’t practice law anymore?” He sounds surprised.
Running from Romeo Page 30