by Lyra Parish
While he admired his space, I studied the flower pattern on the chaise lounge in the corner. I gasped and Luke turned to look at me. I lay on the couch with my arm draped in the exact pose as Rose in Titanic.
"Maybe you could draw me like one of your French girls?"
He rolled his eyes. How dare him.
I wondered how many artists had slept there as they worked on their next great masterpiece.
"This is perfect," he said more to himself than to me. Luke was in his own little artist world. It was kind of cute.
I sat up on the chaise and pulled out my laptop, then connected to the Wi-Fi. My email was full of forwards, coupons, and emails from Finn. He warned me that I had not replied to his emails, but Elite emails? I thought I had been removed from the distribution list.
Attention Employees:
Please refer to the handbook, section 7.2 for a refresher on the different variations of harassment. This type of behavior will not be tolerated at The Elite. Also, several jobs have been posted over the course of the last few days. Please visit the portal in the intranet to view the current openings. As always, thank you for your continued hard work.
Kind Regards,
Finnley Felton
Founder & CEO of Elite Corporations
I was a little confused as to why I was still receiving company emails.
I pressed reply.
To Whom It May Concern,
Please remove me from all future correspondence. Much appreciated.
Hope this is the reply you wanted.
-J
A read receipt returned. Finnley had opened the message. I wondered what time it was there. Within a minute, a reply email arrived. I considered leaving it unread.
Consider it done, Miss Downs.
Be careful what you wish for...
-F
I wanted to reply.
I sat there staring at the screen while Luke draped cloth on the floor. My heart raced just thinking about lashing out. Harassment, I wondered what had happened. Must have been something monumental enough for Finnley to send out a corporation-wide email.
I opened a web search bar and typed in "Finnley Felton". I occasionally liked to google stalk him. Several pages had recent updates so I clicked on the top link. He attended a benefit for animals a few days ago and on his arm was a tall blond.
Was that? Holy hell, he had brought Natasha Dragtonsa, U.S. champion tennis player, as his fucking date. I quickly skimmed the article and was directed to another link: Finnley Felton's Fan Page. Dis-fuckin-gusting. The online women practically drooled over his body and money. The comments that were made... well, they made me blush, reading all the naughty things they would do to him. As I suspected, the latest Finn gossip was pinned to the top.
'Finnley Felton is suspected to be dating Natasha. They were chummy at the benefit Wednesday. Will keep you posted.'
I bit my bottom lip and opened an instant message to him. Then jealousy reared its ugly head as I stared at the pictures of them together.
J: What the hell?
The little cursor started moving at the bottom and a miniature mobile phone displayed. He typed on the go.
F: Pardon?
J: Two words. Natasha Dragtonsa.
F: You're ridiculous.
J: YOU ARE!!!!
F: Jealous?
J: Angry.
F: Let me guess. Google? That's cute. Can't get enough of me, can you?
I imagined the look on his face, probably smirking.
F: Jealousy will destroy you if you let it.
J: I need to know where we stand.
F: Don't ruffle your panties. It's not my secret to tell, but she's a lesbian. So STOP googling me. You might find more things you don't like. Woman-child.
J: Ass.
F: If I'm the ass, you're the hole.
I had no response. What does a person say to that?
I slammed the laptop shut and pushed it to the side. Luke turned on some classical music and began working. Pianos and violins filled the room as he dipped his paintbrush in blue-white. Brush stroke after brush stroke and the canvas was covered with different shades of color. He took a step back, moved his hair from his eyes with the back of his hand, and studied the canvas. Then he walked to his next blank slate and dipped a wider paintbrush in black, highlighted with a bit of white, and painted that one too.
I curled up and watched him work.
Luke glanced over his shoulder at me. "Boring isn't it?"
"No. You never told me what the project was for."
"In celebration of the French Revolution. A ceremony will take place in July. The museum contracted me to create different pieces to be presented to the founder."
"Wow. That's amazing and kind of like the story behind the Eiffel Tower."
He smiled. "It's not that amazing."
"Just take a compliment for once."
Splatters of paint covered his hands, and his long sleeves kept slipping down. I walked over, and he stopped painting when I stood beside him.
"Do you need help?" I carefully rolled one sleeve past his elbow. Then I moved to the other side and did the same. My fingers brushed across his skin, and he watched me.
"Thank you," he said, and my fingers lingered long enough for him to look at them then, back at me. I sucked in a deep breath and placed my hands in my pockets. The song changed, and I took that time to change the subject.
"This one reminds me of dancing in college." I removed my flats and pointed my toes.
"I would have loved to watch you dance." Luke pulled me toward him. I held my breath because the way he looked at me was too intense. Friend-zone.
"You're distracting me."
I swallowed. "I'm sorry."
Luke released my hand. "Coffee? There's a café on the corner."
"Sure, I'll go get us some."
"Here's my phone. The museum is in my favorites. Call me if you need anything. You really should have brought your phone with you."
"I know. I didn't want to though."
He handed me a credit card, and I left.
I made my way down the street and took in the architecture of the city.
The coffee shop smelled of cinnamon and sweet bread. The menu was in French, but coffee was a universal language that I knew very well.
The woman smiled at me as I ordered one white and one black coffee. I knew it was my accent. All the French seemed entertained with my Southern drawl.
On the way out, a man bumped into me and caused liquid to drip from the small hole at the top of the cups. Dark eyes stared into mine, and I smiled then apologized to him.
I took my time walking back to the museum, sipping my coffee, and admiring it all. Before I rang the buzzer, Luke's phone vibrated. I dug in my pocket and pulled it out as I pressed the button to be let in.
Finny. He calls him fucking Finny. I answered with a 'What?'
Finn cleared his throat when I answered.
"What are you doing, Miss Downs," he asked, incredulously.
"Is that any of your business?"
"You are my business."
I laughed. "Only if I want to be."
"Keep telling yourself that you're in control, because we both know you aren't. Where is my brother?"
When Luke opened the door I handed him the phone then continued to the studio with our coffees. Luke agreed to call his mother. I walked away not wanting to eavesdrop.
"Mum insists we meet for dinner tonight."
"What? I'm meeting your parents?"
"Seems so."
I had no words. Completely fucking blindsided, again. How do I explain who I am? Oh, hi Mrs. Brand, I'm Jennifer, your younger son paid your older son to have sex with me. Might as well tattoo whore across my forehead. Yeah… no thanks.
"Can I skip?"
"No. She knows you're with me and is expecting you. Little tip, there is no getting out of it once Mum has made up her mind."
"Must run in the family," I mumbled.
> "I'll be working for a few more hours. If you want, you can go home and get ready."
I took the hint and packed my things. I knew I distracted him, and my thoughts were scattered into a million little pieces. I wasn't ready to the meet the parents.
Twenty
The walk back to the flat was pleasant, though I couldn't get ahold of myself. Cool air nipped at my skin and a shiver coursed through me. I would soon be meeting the woman who raised Luke and Finn. That alone scared the shit out of me.
Hours, I had only a few hours before we would catch the train.
Fuck, I needed to get a grip.
I threw the suitcase on the bed and shuffled through the clothes I brought. Yes, every girl had a black dress for occasions like this, and luckily, I packed mine. I hung it on the bathroom door and searched for the perfect panties: white lace, elegant and sophisticated in every sense. Underneath my pile of pretty lingerie lay the black pouch. Yes, the one that held little F, as Lori named him. A smile crept across my face as I deviously grabbed it.
Before I flipped my shit, I sat on the edge of the tub and ran the water as hot as it would go. The steam coaxed me calm. The mirror fogged, and I slipped out of my clothes.
Finnley. Hearing his raspy, sexy-ass voice today stirred my emotions. I pulled little F from his suede holster and looked at the purple toy with amazement. Waterproof came highly recommended. But I still couldn't understand what the excitement was about. I had a dildo on legs, and he wanted to fuck all the time. Only problem: he was a thousand miles away, and I was pissed.
I dipped my toes in the tub, and although it was almost too hot to be comfortable, I took it. My skin instantly pinked. I sighed and leaned back. Thoughts of Finn fucking me against the patio door, the look on his face when he handed me the keys to the Aston, the confetti check on the counter…
God, he was a beautiful man—an asshole, but damn, still beautiful.
I turned the vibrator on low and looked at it for a moment before placing it down below.
"Oh, God," I whispered. I sunk deeper in the tub as little F worked his magic on my clit. After minutes, my nipples went hard and every muscle tightened. Before I came, I pulled away and turned off the vibrator. I would tease myself. I wanted it so bad, but I didn't want to come, not yet. My breathing slowed, and I pulled little F from the bottom of the tub and inserted the length into my wetness. I gasped as I turned the vibrator on and moved it in and out slowly.
I held back moans even though I was alone, and picked up the pace. When I was on the brink, I thought of Finnley, and the way he fucked me hard. I couldn't stop imagining his lean muscles and abs that went on for days. With a moan, I allowed myself to let go. The orgasm was so overpowering, I couldn't stop myself from sinking down into the tub. I lay there until the water went cold, and my hands were wrinkled.
Sometimes a B.O.B. (battery operated boyfriend) was necessary.
After I recouped, I put little F away, washed my hair, and toweled off. Orgasms really were the best stress reliever. I'd have to remember that the next time my nerves were on edge.
I wrapped the towel around my body, and grabbed the hair dryer from my suitcase. As I held the towel and bent over, the door opened. I went frigid.
"Luke! You scared the shit out of me."
"Sorry. We actually need to leave earlier, since we are taking the train."
The way he looked at me, as I stood vulnerable in nothing but a towel, was too much. I turned my gaze from his and walked back into the bathroom.
"Fuck," I yelled when I tried to plug in my hairdryer.
"Are you alright?" Luke said outside of the bathroom door, and all I thought about was little F sitting on the edge of the tub in its carrying case.
"Oh, God. Yes. I'm fine. It's just the plug is different."
I heard him laughing on the other side of the door.
"Wear your hair curly. It's cute that way."
I finished toweling off, and grabbed my dirty clothes, making sure to tuck little F inside of them.
The black dress waited for me.
I looked nice and proper, almost like a nun, but with a pearl necklace. Above all, I needed to make a good impression. A person usually doesn't get the chance to start over. Momma always said to make the first time count. I planned on it.
I walked into the living room and tucked my dirty clothes inside my bag, then slipped on the only pair of heels I brought with me. I leaned in to view the mirror over the television and put in the pearl earrings. My mother gave me this set.
"Don't be nervous, she doesn't bite." Luke adjusted his tie and swept his hair to the side. The waves wouldn't flatten. I supposed messy-fuckable hair ran in the fam.
"If she birthed the two of you, she would have to bite. How can I not be nervous?"
He placed his hand on the small of my back and looked at me in the mirror.
"She doesn’t bite. We did raise hell growing up, but what can you expect with two boys that are two years apart? Finnley and I were inseparable. We experienced everything together. Our first crushes, fast cars, art, music, and trouble."
I smoothed the dress over my legs and tucked my hair behind my ears. Luke put on his shoes and stood with his arms crossed.
"Ready? Mother hates it when people are late."
"Ugh, yes."
We took a cab to the train station, and I tried to focus on my surroundings.
France; it had a distinct smell. The wind blew different, and there was electricity, an old one that hummed through the streets. I was slowly falling in love with the city but how could one not with everything that surrounded them, especially the accents.
After a few hours on the train we arrived in London, where a car waited outside of the station. During the drive, my nervousness grew.
"Stop it," Luke said and placed his hand on my shaking leg.
"Sorry. I'm nervous."
"Don't be. No sense in it."
We took a few turns, traveled up the countryside, and entered an estate that was quite similar to Luke's. It had an ancient feel to it, like it had been there for centuries. The gloom in the sky didn't help my mood. Damn it, I needed to get ahold of myself.
The driver opened the door, and we trekked up the sidewalk. Before Luke turned the doorknob, he gave me a smirk. I narrowed my eyes at him.
"It will be okay. I promise."
I took a deep breath, and we entered.
In the distance, the sound of Moonlight Sonata played, and it added to my anxiety. As I walked into the living area, my heart stopped beating, and I couldn't breathe. With his eyes glued to the piano keys, playing every note so beautifully and elegantly, was a person I didn't expect to see in London.
Finnley fucking Felton.
Twenty-one
As hard as it was to turn my head away from Finn, I did. An older woman and man sat in the living area drinking wine. They stood when we entered. I had officially been thrown from my comfort zone into the lion's den. Luke smiled. His mother kissed him on the cheek, and then he hugged his father.
"Luke! I'm thrilled to see you, son," she said.
Finnley continued to push the keys harder but never lost a beat.
"And who is this beautiful young woman?" his mother asked. She greeted me with a hug like she had known me forever.
"Oh, Mum, this is Jennifer Downs."
"Jennifer. The pleasure is mine. Please, make yourself at home."
"Thank you. It's so nice to meet you," I said.
"Isn't her accent so cute?" His mother smiled and clapped her hands together.
Eyes like Finn’s stared into mine. Her features were elegant and soft like a movie star in a silent film. Luke's father returned and handed me a glass of wine. I thanked him but barely sipped. If I allowed myself to let loose, I would be wasted before dinner.
"I'm so rude. I'm Emma, and this is Franklin. We've heard so much about you."
"Mother, you're going to embarrass her," Finnley said.
I blushed.
&nbs
p; After the finale, Finnley turned on the piano bench with a gaze so cold, I could almost feel him. My thoughts clouded, and I reminded myself to breathe, to just fucking breathe, before I completely lost it. I went from seeing him almost every day since he took my V-card, to not seeing him. The emotions that I tried to smother streamed through my body and mixed with my blood.
His smell. His eyes. The fucking smirk on his face. He was intoxicating.
"That was wonderful, Finn. See, all those years of lessons paid off." His mother raised an eyebrow at him.
He smiled while walking toward us. "I admit it, you were right Mum," he said.
"I'm always right," she said to him.
"Of course you are."
I couldn't speak, not with him standing so close to me. Not with his sweet smell controlling me, urging me to move closer to him. Our bodies stood inches apart from one another, and as much as I tried to shut him off, I couldn't. I tried to accomplish the impossible: ignore Finn.
"So you've met Jennifer. She is the woman I've been telling you about, Mum. Luke was so kind to bring her along. She insisted on seeing the city early, and I couldn’t argue with such a pretty face."
God, I loved the rasp in his voice. Stop it.
I darted my eyes between Luke and Finn. They both smiled as they practically lied to their mother's face. I was supposed to meet him here. Ohhh, Luke would so be getting a stern talking to when we left. We'd have a two-hour train ride back to Paris. That would be plenty enough time to exchange a few heated words with him.
"Wanting to see the city without being rushed is understandable. Too many tourists try to visit it all in one week but there's too much. One must stay longer to enjoy the small intricacies that Paris and London have to offer. There are no two places in the world that are better than here. I'm convinced at this point," Emma said.
A small ding echoed from the kitchen. Emma smiled and excused herself. Franklin followed and so did Luke, leaving Finn and me alone in the living room. I crossed my arms and stared at him. He moved closer. I looked into his eyes, and he looked into mine.
"Fancy seeing you here."
"I was thinking the same damn thing," I said.