He takes my hand and spin me around and for a moment, just a moment, I let the magic of the moment consume me. I twirl, my dress ballooning around me, and I laugh as the lights of the Eiffel Tower reflect in his eyes.
And I want to be nowhere else but right here.
JEZ
She’s quiet through dinner. Not totally, but she’s not the usual effervescent and chatty woman I’m used to. I can’t help wondering if she’s regretting her decision, and realizing she’s doesn’t want to be here, to be with me.
I ask her if she wants a coffee and she gives me a small smile and shakes her head.
Maybe she’s tired, and doesn’t want to tell me?
You idiot, she’s been in the hospital for… well, I’m not sure how long, but for some time. She’s recovering from a brain injury at least, and you don’t even give her time to rest. Thoughtless prick.
“Are you finished?” I ask as she puts down the fork she’s been using to pick at the cheesecake on her plate. She didn’t eat much. Even more of an indication that she’s probably pretty tired. I’ve seen this woman put away a plate of Emily’s lasagna even before I could get a forkful.
She nods and takes a sip of her water, patting at her lips with the napkin. It’s quite late now and the buffet dining room is pretty empty. I’d managed to get a booth in the smaller room and there aren’t many people to see us.
The last thing I want is to be ambushed while we’re here. Without bodyguards and the entourage and the other guys in the band, I’m not really sure how I would handle it.
I get up and give her my hand. She shakes her head and pulls herself out of the booth.
“I don’t want to hurt your hand,” she explains as she stands up and then takes it and pats it gently before letting go.
Her thoughtfulness is touching and my heart lurches in my chest. While I’m pushing her to fatigue, she’s still thinking of me. I take her hand and lead her out of the restaurant. The chaotic noise of the casino instantly bombards us and she flinches.
I pull her closer, sliding an arm around her waist.
Stay with me, I think. I’ll keep you safe.
She rests her head on my shoulder as we walk towards the elevators.
“Tired?”
“A little, I guess,” she says quietly, and I can barely hear her over the beep-beeps of the poker machines and yells from winners and losers at the game tables.
“Let me get you up to bed and you can go to sleep,” I say, kissing the top of her head.
She stops.
Her hand dropping from mine.
“What’s wrong? Did you need to go to the restroom?” I ask, pointing to the row of doors behind her.
“Argh!” She yells, “What is wrong with you? Or is it me?”
“What?” I ask; she’s angry, and I have no idea why.
“No, you need to tell me. Is there, like horns growing out of my head?” She makes little fingers movement on either side of her temples. “Or do I smell like funky cheese, or do you only like really tall women, or really short women or something?”
“Um.” She’s glaring at me, and her chest is heaving with deep, heavy breaths. I’m assuming I’ve done something wrong but I can’t figure out what it is.
“Why… ugh, never mind!” She storms off without finishing her sentence.
I run after her, catching her hand and spinning her around.
“Whoa, whoa, Emmie, baby! What’s going on? Did I do something?”
“No!” She snaps, avoiding eye contact.
“So I didn’t do something?”
“Humph, exactly!” She throws her hands up in the air.
I’m no more informed than I was a minute ago. She just stands there, fuming, but refusing to look at me. I touch the side of her cheek, hoping it’ll make her look up at me.
“Hey… Emmie, what’s going on?”
“Do you… do you not find me attractive?” She fidgets with the hem of her dress, her voice soft and quiet.
My brain goes from confusion to completely blank. Like it can’t even process her words.
“What in the world?”
“Well, do you?” She finally lifts her eyes and meets mine.
“Of course, I do!!”
“Then why don’t you want to have sex with me?”
My mouth drops open and for a moment I think I’m hallucinating. Did she just say what i think she says?
“Say that again.”
“Why. Don’t. You. Want. To. FUCK. Me??!” She repeats, with a slight change in words for emphasis, the anger returning to her voice.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I choke.
Her eyes narrow and her hands brace on her hips. She looks so angry and strong and sexy and feminine and I’d fuck her right now if I wasn’t trying to figure out what is going on in her brain.
“Why in the world would you think that?”
“Because… you haven’t!”
“Oh my god.” I let out a guffaw. She IS crazy. “You are one crazy woman,” I splutter, still unable to really understand where this is all coming from.
Her eyes narrow even more. Guess that comment didn’t help.
I notice a crowd starting to form around us but I don’t fucking care.
I grab her by the shoulders so she can’t look away, and she looks just as pissed off as she did before.
“Why, on God’s holy earth, would you think that I’m not attracted to you?” I shake my head, the words coming out of my mouth sounding so ridiculous even as I’m saying them.
“I thought you would’ve wanted to… have sex with me by now,” she says, with a small shrug.
“Oh my god. Noemie, sweet, sexy, drive me fucking crazy Noemie,” I pull her in against me, so close she has to tip her head almost all the way back to look up at me. “I want you so much I feel like my veins are filled permanently with cement, my whole body hard, stiff… for you. I want you so bad, I can’t even look at you most of the time, in case I can’t control myself and have to have you right there and then, wherever it is, at PT, on the plane, in a cab on the fucking L. A. freeway, in the middle of a crowded casino…”
“You..”
“I’m not done. I want you so much I can barely function. I want you so much… that nothing will take the place of my cock inside you. Do you know, I haven’t cum in three months since my accident? I thought after I took my arm casts off, I’d be making up for lost time, but I don’t want to orgasm, unless it’s inside you. I want you so bad, that I’ve stayed up whole nights thinking about every little thing I want to do to you and in what order. Firstly, I’m going to peel off every layer of your clothing, because I’m sick of imagining what you look like naked. I want to see it with my own eyes… and touch it with my own fingers. Secondly, I want to trace your nipples with my tongue, until they get so hard and wet, that you beg me to take it into my mouth. And even then, I won’t stop.”
“Thirdly…”