by Gabrielle G.
When my hand touches her, a loud noise interrupts us, bringing us back to reality. I finally open my eyes and see a flush-faced Julie, eyes burning with desire.
“Failing at keeping your hands off me, sunshine?”
“We should add to our set of rules. No cab!”
“Don’t add rules you know we’re going to break.”
The pounding on the window separating us from the cab driver is now relentless. “No sex in my car! Pay and get out! You famous people are disgusting!”
I take Julie’s hand while we exit the cab and navigate the streets of a busy New York City morning.
“So where to?” she asks.
“What do you say we go find a bathroom to finish what we started in the cab?” I ask sheepishly. I am joking. Mostly.
She shakes her head in disbelief and tightens her hand. “Breakfast and then we’ll see.”
We sit with our drinks, and Julie talks about work and the meetings we have to attend. I’m not really interested in what she’s saying though. All I can see is her face lighting up. The happiness that radiates from the sunshine that she is. The closeness we share, the gentleness I feel in her kisses is new to me. I haven’t been so intimate with someone in years. Being a twin, Virginia was my psychic, and when she was busy, Dex was my right hand. After my sister left me, I retracted into my shell. Only Dex and Sheila, my ex-girlfriend, could get me to open up again. Then Sheila also chose to leave me behind, and Dex was the last person that could reach out to me. Of course, when I discovered his betrayal, even if this meant Virginia was back in my life, I withdrew again. It was difficult to accept Dex had chosen his brother over me, I had been the second choice, once again. But since I met Julie, I’m opening up. She makes me believe I can have someone in my corner. She makes me want to commit. What I feel for her clogs my throat, and I’m about to blurt it all out when fear overtakes me. I swallow hard, trying to enjoy our time together.
“Earth to Ian…”
“Sorry, I zoned out.”
“We can see that, man,” a man I don’t know says.
I snatch my eyes from Julie’s face to analyze the guy standing next to her. Tall, handsome, cool. I decide right away that I hate him.
“So Juju tells me you’re in town for the movie?” He throws his hand between us for me to shake it.
Seriously, I have no clue who this guy is or why he’s talking to me. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“My bad, I thought you heard Juju. I’m Oliver.”
I look at him blankly.
“Anna’s brother.”
Still nothing.
“Dan’s brother-in-law?”
I smile, but I’m obviously still confused.
“Ian! Anna, my friend from Montreal, Dan’s wife? This is Oliver. He owns a bar in New York,” Julie says.
“Right!” I still have no clue who this guy is. I do know who Anna is—because Jules disappeared to her place last month. And of course I know Dan Darling, who doesn’t? We’re kind of friends. But why this guy knows Julie and calls her by the ridiculous nickname of Juju is not clear in my mind.
“Juju, I’ve got to go. Come by my bar? It’s on 5th, I’ll text you the address. Drinks on me. Salut, ma belle!” He kisses her cheeks and leaves. Douche!
“Of course he speaks French!” I mumble.
“Well, yes, he speaks French. He went to school in France. He’s perfectly bilingual. And Anna lives most of the year in Montreal. You do know they speak French in my hometown, right?”
“I do. Is that why their hockey team sucks?”
“You did not just say that!” I’m pretty sure I just offended her.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to upset you. I really thought you were a Rangers fan,” I lie.
“I’m not upset.” She laughs. “I’m from Montreal. I like the Rangers, but the Montreal Canadians have my heart. By the way, never say that Montreal’s team sucks in front of Ryan! I mean, if you want to live, of course.”
“Didn’t Ryan grow up in Boston?”
Those Canadians take hockey so seriously. I have a hard time following.
“Oh, he did, but one of his parents is from Montreal—his mother, I think? Anyway, he’s a Habs fan forever. Ry can’t stand the Bruins.”
“Habs?”
She raises an inquisitive eyebrow at my ignorance. “It’s the nickname of the Montreal Canadians. Do you know anything about hockey?”
No. “Yes. So no Bruins talk. Can I talk about Detroit?” Her eyes widen, and all of a sudden I feel as if I’m on a hot seat.
“Why on earth would you talk about Detroit? I’m not sure this can happen.” Her hand is going back and forth between us.
“What can’t happen?”
“Us! I could never date a Red Wings fan!”
“You’re ridiculous!” I say adoringly. “You know I’m from Michigan, right?”
“I do, but that’s no reason not to be a Habs fan.” She laughs, snorting. It’s the most adorable sound she makes, and I feel my heart swell.
I love that we’re teasing each other about hockey. It feels so easy, so natural talking to her. Mind you, I might have to buy Hockey for Dummies because I can only name a few teams and Julie treats hockey like a religion. That’s how I heard most about Julie in the passing years. Ryan couldn’t stop bragging about his best friend and their love for hockey. He speaks and breathes hockey from October to June, and it seems she does too.
“I’ve missed you, sunshine.”
“I’ve missed you too. I’m not going to lie, when you said I was only a friend and I saw the pictures of you and that journalist, it hurt me. Then what you said when I arrived and the blame you put on me… it hurt even more, but I want to get past all that. I want the fun. I’m done with the drama.”
I don’t know where this is coming from. I suspected we needed to have this conversation, but a busy Starbucks where we could be ambushed at any moment seems like the last place we should have it. But if this is what she wants, then so be it.
“I told them we were friends because I thought you wouldn’t want the press to know. As for the picture, I turned her down immediately after the picture was taken. Then you disappeared without letting me explain, throwing me in the same category as Paul.” She takes a breath, but I continue. “If we’re going to be something, you can’t treat me like that, sunshine. You have to give me the opportunity to explain. I’m a patient guy, but I’m not made of marble, especially when it comes to you.”
“I’m sorry. Old habits die hard.”
“I understand. If you don’t mind me asking, why are we having this conversation in public?”
“To be sure I don’t attack you. As I was saying, I’m done with the drama. Let’s go back to the hotel. Rules are made to be broken and dates to be canceled.”
That’s how she explains her sudden urge to jump my bones. Not that I’m complaining. I like my woman being unafraid to voice her desire.
Before our date, she shared the rules she set up, and I’m certain she had more she kept to herself. Her most obvious rule was no sex, and I agreed to it. We needed to clear the air before anything happened.
Then no kissing on the lips or making out. That worked well…
No touching. Failed as well.
No innuendos or lewd comments. That one was well respected until I said we should find a bathroom after making out in the cab. I think that’s when she decided to let go of the rules. Sex with Julie in a public bathroom would be hot. Extremely hot.
Then I caught her smelling me a few times. She tried to do it discreetly, when we were close or when I stood up. But she smelled me and seemed embarrassed every time.
And seeing her cheeks flushed reminded me to go slow. Not to get the ropes out today. I need to speak to her about it first, experience her free before restraining her. I’m painfully hard again. Trying to behave on the ride back, I’m holding her hand, the tension between us growing every mile closer to the hotel.
“Fuck it!” I can’t
hold back.
While I shower her neck with kisses, my hand finds its way between her legs, under the long, torturous skirt she wore to punish me. She moans when my knuckles brush her panties, and I keep her quiet with my mouth on hers, demanding entrance with my tongue. She pushes me back, panting.
“I really don’t want to be thrown out of the cab and have to walk the rest of the way.” My hand is still in the warmth of her panties, and I hear her complaint when I bring it back to me.
“Thank you,” she whispers, trying as well to keep her hands to herself.
I nod and intertwine our hands, waiting like the good boy I can be. Once in the elevator though, all bets are off. I turn into a predator ready to eat his prey against the wall.
“Let’s go to my room,” I order before pushing the button of the penthouse.
Not caring who could walk in on us making out, I place my knees between her legs and rub it against her core, edging her to orgasm like a teen would. But the ride goes too fast and I can’t finish what I started before the doors open. I take her hand and drag her to the suite. It doesn’t take me long to use the key, and once we’re in, I don’t have a minute to think before she’s attacking my zipper.
“Who’s breaking the rules now?” I say smugly.
She doesn’t even acknowledge my statement. She drops my pants and removes my shirt.
“Can I at least take off my shoes?”
She drops onto her knees as an answer and takes my dick in her mouth with no hesitation.
“Fuck, Jules! This is so fucking good. Don’t stop.”
Her tongue is wicked on my shaft. She swirls and pushes me back out with her tongue, her lips fitting perfectly around my cock. While she presses her tongue against the base of my head, I reach for her teasing ponytail. She stops what she’s doing and looks at me, shaking her head. Bringing her hands to my hips, Julie rocks me slowly. She’s in total control.
Pushing my body against the wall so I can relax, I let her fuck my dick with her mouth, and it feels amazing. She takes it deeper until I can feel the back of her throat. My tip touches it again, and Julie doesn’t gag. Her tongue cradles my dick.
“I need to come,” I tell her. “Fuck, you will be the end of me, sunshine.”
She changes the tempo and twirls her tongue again, bringing one hand to my cock and massaging me at the same time. Her tongue enfolds me before her lips let my dick go. Her hand squeezes me tight and slides up and down. I feel my orgasm coming. Julie engulfs my cock once again in her mouth as I come, and she guzzles every drop of it.
As soon as she’s done, she stands. “Room service? I’m famished,” she says with a twinkle in her eyes.
I’m still trying to put my thoughts together after a hurricane sucked my dick.
“Order me what you want,” she says. “I’ll take a quick shower.”
It doesn’t take her long to come back into the bedroom, where I’m lying on the bed in my boxer shorts. Julie walks my way, naked and full of confidence. I open my arms for her to come to me, and when she does, it feels like the most natural thing I’ve ever done.
She laughs when she sees my cock stir. “Again?”
“No, I want to stay like this until the food arrives.” I hug her tightly, bring my lips to the top of her head, and smell her hair. She doesn’t smell like she usually does. “You changed your shampoo.”
“Are you the shampoo police?”
“Ms. Legg, please step aside and open your legs. You broke the law by changing how great your hair smells!”
She laughs. “I always change shampoo and body wash. The same way I can’t eat the same thing every morning. Life is made to have fun and try as many shampoos and body washes as possible.”
“So what you’re telling me is that you’re a marketing nightmare.”
“I’m the less loyal customer. Well, except for chocolate and toothpaste.”
“As long as you’re loyal to me, we’re all good, sunshine.” I feel Julie tense at my words, but it doesn’t faze me. “Do you still have feelings for Paul?”
Speaking about the cheating bastard is uncomfortable, but it needs to be addressed. I can’t think of her loving another man.
“After Eric, my ex-husband, I believed you will always love the person you were with a little bit. You carry them in your heart because if you loved them once, you kind of owed it to them—respect, you know? Paul? I can’t love him anymore. But I have feelings for him. I despise him for what he did to me and to Ryan. He disgusts me. So yes, I still have feelings, but they aren’t the loving kind.”
I release the breath I was holding.
“In fact, I’m not sure I can ever love again. Not in the way I loved Paul or Eric.”
Now it’s my turn to freeze, trying to keep the emotions running through me in check. My heart feels as if it were immersed in an ice bucket. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that words aren’t enough anymore. I can’t really believe it or let myself love again. I won’t let myself open my heart until I’m sure.”
“Jules, I will never hurt you intentionally.”
“I know.”
The intense conversation is interrupted by a knock on the door. I get up, pull on my jeans, and go to the door, grateful for the space I’m putting between us. I’m ready to go headfirst into this relationship. I fell for her months ago, maybe even years ago, and I believe if she gives me a chance, we could have a great story together.
Jules joins me in one of my T-shirts and sweatpants, and we sit down to eat. An awkward silence falls between us, but I refuse to let a distance settle between us. Being straightforward might be the best option I have. I pick up the daisy on the food tray and take Jules’s hand.
She looks at me suspiciously. “What are you doing, Ian?”
“Julie, would you please date me? But only me?” I ask solemnly, presenting the flower.
Either I must look ridiculous standing in only my jeans, barefoot and holding a flower, or the idea of being my girlfriend is, because Julie bursts into laughter.
“I’m serious, sunshine.”
“I know you are,” she says between giggles. “It looks like a scene straight out of the Bachelor.”
I roll my eyes. “So what do you think?”
“Okay, let’s try it. But no promises, and don’t push me.”
It takes me only a few seconds to throw her onto her bed. I remove her T-shirt and let my fingers run over every inch of her chest. Everything about Jules is sexy. I kiss her collarbone, dragging my tongue down her chest bone until I face her script tattoo.
“What does it mean?” I ask, tracing it with my fingers.
“I got it the first time Paul cheated on me. It’s something my ex-husband used to say. ‘I’ll always be yours and only yours.’ I felt the same when we were kids, but I knew soon after I got my nursing degree that we weren’t meant to be. Then there was Paul. After he got caught the first time, I needed a reminder that I was worthy of love. I didn’t get it because I missed Eric or because I wanted to be his again. I got it because in a way, deep inside, I think I knew Paul would do it again and I needed to know that this wasn’t the end of my love story. But now I know it was.”
My fingers are still caressing her body, grazing her breasts. “It would be a great name for the movie. Always & Only.”
Jules doesn’t answer. She removes her pants and rubs her crotch on my bulging dick. Still holding my eyes but not saying a word, she unbuttons and removes my jeans and grabs a condom from her night table. I place my elbows on each side of her head and hover over her. She quickly removes her panties then nudges my sheathed cock between her legs.
“Fuck me!” she demands.
In one push, I could be home. In one push, I could make her understand how much she means to me. Julie is trembling in anticipation. I bring my lips to hers and kiss her softly but passionately. In a moment of total surrender, I feel that I’m not only giving her my body but also my soul. Julie owns me.
I bre
ak the kiss and rub my nose against hers before looking into her eyes. “Let’s make it official at the Emmy’s. Be my date.”
Her eyes are heavy, her breathing shallow. I can feel the heat coming from her pussy. She nods, and I push into her, knowing that was the last reassurance I needed to make her fully mine.
-
16 Julie
“Do you trust me?” Ian says coming back from the bathroom.
That’s another million-dollar question. Do I trust Ian? With my orgasms? Yes! With my heart? I’m starting to. I told him I would try dating him last night. I said I would come with him to the Emmy’s, and seeing how his eyes are on fire, the yellow in them burns my soul. I nod.
“Would you let me use a rope on you?” He’s above me now, waiting for an answer.
“Why?” I answer in a really unsexy squeak.
I’ve never done anything that kinky before. I’ve had great sex, don’t get me wrong, but it was pretty normal stuff, I think—missionary, doggy style, oral, 69s, etc. I even had anal a couple of times, but bondage, blindfolds, spanking? Never before.
“I need you to be totally vulnerable. I need to be in total control of your orgasms. It’ll be all about you. I’ll give you pleasure, make you come until you beg me to stop. I’ll make you lose your voice and your mind. You’ll be mine.” His voice is low and raspy.
I can’t imagine saying no, so I nod.
Ian sighs with relief. “Thank you.” He walks to his suitcase and returns with a blue hemp rope. “Get naked and on all fours.”
His voice has become a sexy command, and my body reacts to it instinctively. I have to oblige. Sliding his T-shirt off, I let it fall onto the floor. I’m about to remove my panties when Ian stops me.
“Leave them on,” he orders.
I know from our time together that he likes to be a little bossy in bed, but this morning he radiates authority. I’ve never let anyone guide me so completely. I’m buzzing with excitement and fear, my panties soaked. I lie down on the bed.
“No! I said get on your hands and knees,” he enunciates slowly.