Just Breathe Trilogy Box Set

by Martha Sweeney

  Arnold, the butler, announces that lunch is ready about fifteen minutes after Maggie and I join everyone out on the patio. He ushers us to a large dining table that’s to the far left of the house. Six house staff members wait patiently for us to take our seats before serving us our drinks and food.

  For the next several hours, my life is complete and utter bliss as I’m surrounded by my family, friends and Joe. Everyone talks, jokes and laughs with ease as we eat the delectable meal and enjoy the cool summer breeze.

  When dessert is served, I eagerly give Maggie, Henry and their parents the photo books and framed pictures. Maggie cries with sobs of happiness and our conversations turn toward recapping the events that took place at the St. Regis.

  As everyone chats about the photos and the wedding, I notice how the Lis and Wús are now one and seem to get along as if they’ve been one family for years. Watching everyone interact and enjoy the frenzy of energy in front of me, I notice Nǎinai coming to join me while I hide off to the side. She quietly sits with me and takes in the sight before us for several minutes.

  “Soon, you will have your own family,” Nǎinai comments, taking my hand.

  “I have a family . . . they’re right here,” I reply, nodding to the crowd in front of us.

  With a smile, she shakes her head. “We are your family . . . yes, but you will have your own,” she explains further.

  “That’s going to be a while,” I giggle. “I don’t plan on having one for a long time . . . if ever.”

  “It’s okay to be scared, Emma. Especially with what you went through,” Nǎinai reassures. She gives me a consoling look while patting my hand.

  Now I know that Maggie has told the whole family my history — a lump forms in my throat. I’m grateful for the fact that we are not too close to anyone else for our conversation to be overhead.

  Nǎinai continues. “You will not find peace by listening to your fears.” She pauses and taps her hand on top of mine.

  We sit in silence for a minute before she speaks again — I think she’s letting what she said sink in a little more. “Eating apples are good for you. They’re safe and you know what you’re getting . . . but, eating apples every day, all day, can becoming boring. Sometimes you need to taste a strawberry, or a peach, or a lemon, to appreciate what you have and to know if you might enjoy something different than what you do have.”

  My eyes fall upon the people around us laughing and smiling, causing me to rejoice at the moment despite this sensitive subject that causes a tear to trickle down my cheek.

  “Be proud of who you are and where you come from,” Nǎinai comforts. “We all choose our own paths here and assist others with theirs. You’re parents’ journey was supposed to end when it did . . . in order for your journey to truly begin.”

  I lift my eyes to her and Nǎinai appears to be glowing. If my parents didn’t die, I may never have met Jared, Maggie and the rest of the people I now call family. Her words sting, despite the unwavering truth that I feel emanating from them.

  “I think you should visit them soon,” she suggests. “Maybe . . . even . . . perhaps . . . for your birthday.”

  My head bobs slightly in agreement. It’s been a number years since I’ve made the trek back East.

  “Go to forgive . . . them and yourself.” Nǎinai pauses for a moment. “Free yourself, and them, from the negative energy. Let your heart and memory of them turn from sadness into love . . . for if you do . . . you will be invincible in all you do and true happiness will be within you.”

  The two of us sit quietly for a while. My love, respect and appreciation for Nǎinai and her family has multiplied farther than I could have ever imagined. I hope that one day I’ll be able to take heed to Nǎinai’s wisdom and let my walls down to enjoy the aspects of life that I see Maggie and her family celebrating before me.

  Fifty Eight

  Joe, Jared, Nathan, Pop-Pop and I don’t stay at Maggie’s for dinner, letting the rest of the family mingle and spend time rejoicing. Nathan explains that he needs to get back to the pieces for the premier since he’s feeling the pressure of having them all perfect and I wouldn’t mind getting ahead on the Raven software.

  As we approach Pasadena, Joe looks to me at a red light and asks, “You hungry?”

  “A little,” I answer sweetly.

  “Good. Because, it wouldn’t be right to take you home without a full belly,” Joe announces.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “I texted Anna when we left San Marino. Dinner should be ready when we get back,” he admits devilishly.

  “And, what if I had said no?” I contend playfully.

  “I’m sure I would have been able to persuade you,” he states.

  “Really?!” I muse sarcastically.

  “Really,” Joe remarks with confidence in his voice.

  When we get to Joe’s penthouse, Anna already has a bowl prepped for Sadie and there are ten minutes left on the clock for the dinner she’s prepared for Joe and me. Anna leaves when Joe and I take Sadie out for a walk, and twenty minutes later Joe and I are back in his place.

  Setting my purse down on the table by the front door, I turn to face Joe as he finishes emptying his pockets. We stare at each other with wild grins and my hands lift to unzip my dress, letting it fall to the floor.

  Joe’s eyes light up and he takes a cautious step toward me. “I thought you were hungry,” he mentions.

  “I am,” I wickedly admit. My right hand reaches forward, grabbing the top of his pants, yanking him to me.

  Joe presses his body against mine, but keeps his hands to himself. My fingers find the edges of his belt while my eyes stay fixed on his. With his belt undone, my hands loosen his button and gradually lowers the zipper, letting his pants fall to the floor. As if he’s watching what I will do, Joe remains still while I push my panties down. A small moan escapes Joe’s throat at the same time my thong hit my ankles. The next target for my hands is his underwear. As I’m about to slip down to my knees, Joe steps into me, taking my mouth with his. His warm, stiff cock pulses against my belly and my sex salivates for his entry.

  Joe’s mouth trails down my neck, over my breasts and stops at my navel as his hands hold me firmly at the waist. My body quivers when his tongue glides over my sex, breaching the crack to find my clit. Joe lifts my right leg, draping it over his shoulder, allowing his mouth to taste more of me. My fingers tangle in his hair and pinch my nipples. I try to look down at him on occasion, but the use of his tongue dancing on my nub and the sudden use of his fingers inside me throws my head back into the wall.

  I whimper frustration when Joe stops just shy of my orgasm occurring. He quickly rolls on a condom, lifts my body by the hips and hoists me up against the wall, placing his cock deep inside me.

  “Fuck me,” I beg.

  “Hard or slow?” he asks with deep, shallow thrusts.

  “I don’t care,” I admit. “I just make me cum.”

  “All over me?”

  “Yes,” I pant, eager for the release.

  “Promise?”

  “Yes.”

  Joe starts with slow, short bursts, barely pulling himself out. Every little movement feels like it could bring me to climax, but doesn’t. Then, Joe quickens his pace for several beats and then resumes his previous speed. He does this several times, heightening my sensitivity and causing me to moan on each breath out, desperate for climax. He works me up each time, just barely letting me hit that point and then changes, denying me full satisfaction.

  Shifting my body slightly, which opens my legs up more, Joe presses deeper, harder into me.

  “Right . . .” my mouth begins to utter, being cut off by the orgasm. My throat groans the entire time of my release.

  Joe continues to pump relentlessly into me, making sure I drench him. A few seconds after my release, my lungs are able to suck in just enough air before another burst of euphoria takes over my body. Seizing my neck with his tongue, Joe’s hips pound me agains
t the wall. I whimper satisfaction a third time when Joe’s cock hardens, causing him to orgasm with me.

  He keeps me sandwiched against the wall, waiting for our lungs to finish pulsing. With his right hand cupping my face, Joe says, “God, your beautiful.”

  I bite my lip, trying to hide a smile and uncomfortably turn away.

  “Don’t hide, please,” he pleas, coaxing me to look at him.

  Out of nowhere, my stomach grumbles.

  “Looks like we’ve worked up an appetite,” Joe states.

  I hear a faint noise from his abdomen. “Yeah,” I sheepishly admit.

  Cleaning ourselves up and only putting underwear on, Joe and I head to the kitchen to fill our hungry bellies. We sit close together at his breakfast bar while we delight our tastebuds with the impeccable sirloin and the equally delicious sides of roasted garlic potato wedges, mashed cauliflower, steamed asparagus and tomatoes and a side salad. We hardly talk as we stuff our faces.

  We head back to his bedroom, taking a big bowl of ice cream to watch a movie. Joe claims that I hog the bowl every time, so I’m not allowed to touch it or the spoon. Instead, Joe insists on spoon-feeding me the yummy goodness. Each time I get a mouthful, I purposefully engulf it.

  “Keep that up and you’ll never get the spoon when we have dessert,” Joe directs with a devious grin.

  I wrap my fingers around his hand that is holding the spoon. Then, I deliberately rotate it when the metal object is in my mouth so it is vertical. Joe’s eyes intently watch me as I suck and lick the utensil several times as if I am performing oral sex. I finish by running my tongue along my lips to make sure I got every last drop.

  Joe doesn’t move. He just clears his throat.

  Seeing an opportunity, I take the spoon from his hand and dip it back into the bowl. I consciously repeat the very same action of consuming the ice cream and spoon before scooping a third time and offering it to him. Joe cautiously takes the utensil in his mouth while keeping his eyes fixed on me. Letting go of gadget, I alter my position to where I’m straddling Joe. Without speaking, we take turns feeding each other the last few bites of dessert.

  Before Joe finishes placing the bowl on the nightstand, I lean forward to taste his mouth. “What were you saying?” I check, moving my mouth to his right ear.

  My teeth capture his earlobe, causing Joe to grunt. When I don’t get a verbal response, I migrate to his neck, gently applying my lips to his skin three times and then nip him.

  Still not getting an answer, I ask again. “What were you saying?”

  “Nothing . . .” he groans when my teeth apply some pressure to his right nipple.

  “Good,” I commend, jumping to his other nipple.

  Joe runs his fingers through my hair as my tongue explores his chest, neck, ear and chin. Once our mouths connect, Joe’s hands clamp onto my ass and sweep me closer to him. My fingers tousle his hair when his mouth inspects my neck and down into my cleavage. Eager for him to explore my breasts, my fingers reach back to unfasten my bra.

  “No,” he mandates, capturing my wrists behind my back.

  I fight a little to get free, but Joe’s grip tightens. He continues to tease and taunt me with his mouth as my hips rock over his groin. Shifting, he holds my arms with one hand and unhooks my bra with the other. Joe uses his teeth to yank at the straps and slide them forward until my breasts are free. He casually journeys back and forth to each breast, biting down just hard enough, imitating my teasing. My head droops backward as shivers scatter through my body. Joe releases my left arm temporarily to slide the bra strap off and then secures my wrist behind me again. He repeats the same process with my right arm and then his mouth resumes its exploration of my chest while his left hand strokes my sex over my underwear.

  “Mmmmmm . . .” my throat celebrates the rush building inside.

  My panting increases and my hips sway over him more eagerly. Right as I’m on the brink of orgasming, Joe removes his hand from my clitoris.

  “Kneel up,” he directs.

  I purposefully ignore him and continue to brush my sex against his, wanting stimulation.

  “Kneel up,” he repeats. Not waiting for me to comply or object, Joe pushes up with his right hand that confines my wrists while pressing up on the outside of my hip with his left.

  I loudly whimper my disapproval as liquid drips from my hungry vagina.

  Joe shifts side to side several times as he pushes his boxer briefs an inch or two down on either side until his stiff erection pops up from its cloth cage. “Bite,” he commands, holding the condom wrapper to my mouth.

  I eagerly comply, and in one quick movement, Joe yanks on the edge, allowing the packaging to open.

  After successfully removing the condom with just his left hand, Joe instructs me not to move. I happily agree as I watch him roll the prophylactic down his shaft.

  Less than five seconds later, Joe’s hands guide my body forward, rip off my panties, restrain my arms behind my back and insert his erection completely inside me. Our bodies shudder at the same time from the sensation of being connected. My head slumps forward as my body becomes intoxicated from being filled. With fast, quick, upward pulses, Joe continues to detain my arms behind my back. Instinctually, my arms pull up to resist their confines, but that action allows Joe to pump into me easier. My back arches as my body surrenders to the exhilarating rush moving throughout my veins. Pleasure courses through my body, drenching his cock — leaving me breathless.

  After my second gasp for air, another climax ricochets inside me like a thunderbolt. “Fuuuuuuuck,” I whimper in satisfaction.

  My knees slide away from Joe’s body because they’re weakening from the convulsions rippling through me. From my legs parting farther, Joe’s cock strikes at a different angle, and a third orgasm shakes through me.

  “Emma,” Joe moans from his release.

  My face burrows into Joe’s neck as my lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.

  “That’s . . . two pairs,” I mutter.

  “Yeah,” Joe chuckles.

  Before I’m able to completely catch my breath, Joe has us laying side by side facing each other on the bed. He sweetly kisses me as one of his hands caresses up and down my sweaty body.

  “Don’t move,” he politely instructs.

  “Why?” I question, speculating at his words. Propping my head up on my hand, I watch him head into his closet, easily getting distracted by the muscles in his ass flexing with each step. Not liking that he’s taking too long, I get up to follow him. Right as I round the corner of the door, we collide.

  “I told you not to move,” he reminds. “Do I need to tie you up to get you to listen?”

  “No,” I deny playfully. My body shivers a little as the memory of how we just had sex replays in my mind — who knew I’d like restraints?

  With one hand behind his back, Joe uses the other to spin me and direct me over to the bed. His fingers sting my left butt cheek from a slap I wasn’t expecting — I surprisingly enjoy it. I crawl over the covers slowly, waving my ass as I go, peering back to see if he’s watching and if he might spank me again.

  “You’re asking for it,” he teasingly commands.

  “What?” I feign.

  I’ve never had anyone hit my bare bottom, but I’m completely turned on. I purposefully keep my rear stuck up in the air to see if he will do it again.

  Joe’s teeth nip my right butt cheek before I get the chance to shift my weight.

  Oddly, his teeth on my ass makes me horny as well.

  “Close your eyes,” he directs once I’m sitting.

  “Why?” I question.

  Joe gives me a peculiar, pleading look and I instantly comply. “I got you something,” he says nervously.

  My eyes widen, worried by his statement.

  Joe sits down and then hands me a white box with a red ribbon.

  My hands tentatively take the gift from him and place it on the bed in front of me. My gaze looks to Joe, unsure of the mom
ent. He seems excited and nervous, so I decide to just open it. Once I get the ribbon undone and the top of the box off, Joe quickly peels back the layers of tissue paper for me.

  A tiny giggle escapes my lips when my eyes register the present. “Are these to make up for the two pairs you ripped off?”

  “And extras, just in case,” he bashfully admits.

  “How do you know my size?” I search.

  “I have the first pair I ripped off, remember?” he comments, reddening in the face.

  “Yeah . . . .” Another giggle bubbles inside of me.

  “What?” Joe checks, sounding nervous.

  “The idea that you sent Anna to get them popped into my head,” I muse, wanting him to squash the icky feeling inside.

  “No . . . ummm . . . .” Joe’s eyes drop and bounce between my face and the bed several times.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he tries to blow it off.

  “What?” I gently press, curious now.

  “It’s nothing,” he deflects.

  A wicked grin emerges on my face. “I’m using the first of my three questions,” I state resolutely.

  The color in Joe’s face alters slightly. He lets out a huff. “I wanted to go in there . . . the store . . . but . . .” he begins.

  “But . . . ?”

  “But, I couldn’t.” He hangs his head a little in shame.

  My heart pounds a little louder in my chest. “So, you did have Anna get them.”

  “No. God, no,” he confirms.

  I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Then what?”

  “I couldn’t stay . . . in the store . . . it was, distracting,” he offers.

  “Distracting?” I repeat, not understanding. Ideas stir as to what he means by that. “Distracting? As in . . . ?”

  Joe’s cheeks redden as it’s even harder for him to look at me.

  “As in . . . turned on?” I check.

  “Yeah,” he admits, hanging his head again. “I’ve never been in one before . . . a shop like that, that is. And, knowing I was in there, getting them for you . . . I . . . .”