I Love My Healed Heart: 4 Book Box Set/Omnibus (Erotic Romance) (11 page)

James laughs, and hugs me tighter. I look up and
he moves his head back so he can meet my eyes above mascara-streaked cheeks. We
stare at each other until I reach up on my tiptoes and press my lips to his,
seeking solace. I don’t know if he’s going to turn me away, but he doesn’t. He
returns my kiss and as our mouths are locked together, he lowers me to the
ground, advancing on me slowly, from above. I feverishly pull at his buckle and
his zipper, the urgency of my emotions driving me forward. He tenderly pulls up
my dress and finds I’m not wearing panties today. I didn’t wear them for him.
We lock eyes, his a question and mine an unspoken answer of yes… I did that for
you.

He smiles
and whispers, “Jess, I want you so badly, I can’t stand it, even with you
calling me an asshole and bursting into tears like this. Do you know how much
you turn me on?”

I shake
my head, my eyes smoky and impatient as tears continue to fall down my cheeks.
I whisper back, desperately, “I don’t turn anyone on.”

He
abruptly grabs my hand “What? Feel this,” and forces it to his cock. I feel it
pulsing and standing at attention, telling me I’m wrong. “You do this to me. I
don’t know who made you feel like you’re not attractive but feel this. I’m this
hard because of you. I’m not always like that! Just thinking of you makes me a
steel poll. I’m not kidding!”

“It’s
just because we’re a secret,” I blurt and then cover with, “I’m sorry… I don’t
know what’s wrong with me right now.” I pull my hand away from him and bring
both up to my face to cover it, embarrassed at my own honesty. I’m the funny
jokey girl. I don’t say things like this to a guy!

“Stop it.
Look at me,” he orders me, quietly.

Reluctantly,
I pull my hands away and blink. He’s so close to me, and I can see that he
cares. It’s obvious. Why he does, I don’t know. It feels like a friend thing,
but maybe it’s more. Lying on me, he reaches down into his pocket and I hear a
plastic wrapping that I know must be a condom. Good. Let’s do this. I want to
feel better. I need the pressure of him pressing away these feelings. His
scent. His kiss. These things will make everything disappear.

He does
his magic trick where he puts it on faster than I can see. Then, with his eyes
locked on mine dominantly, telling me without words that he is going to show me
I’m desirable in a way that I can’t deny it. When he slides into me, I realize
how wet I am. I had no idea I was the least bit available to this moment. The
rawness of this volcano of emotion has aroused a need to be touched… to know
that I’m okay.

He almost
slides out of me, I’m so wet, and as he does this, I choke. “Please don’t go! I
need this!”

He shakes
his head. “I’m here.” He bends and gently kisses me on the forehead. Pulling
back to look at me, he buries his erection deeply into me, his eyes locked with
mine. I reach up to kiss him; to make him stop watching, to stop him from
seeing who I really am, but he won’t let me hide. He rocks in and out of me
with a slow beautiful pulsing rhythm, looking into my eyes. I can’t fight him
– I don’t have the strength, so I give in and surrender.

Collapsing
on the floor I give in to his strokes as he fills me up, pushing in deeply each
and every time. With the building of my climax, I stretch out my arms, only my
hips moving with his, staring back at him. I close my eyes and feel the rush of
ecstasy tearing through me, goose bumps bursting out from being penetrated by a
man who held space for my sorrow. When he leans down and kisses me, teasing me
with his tongue, I moan into his mouth and let it all go, grab onto his back,
and release All. Of. It.

He kisses
my cheeks and whispers, “It’s okay. You’re okay. Let it all go. That’s right.
Yes. Just like that.” Over and over and over, heated throbs rip through my
pussy. My breaths come in short bursts as his shaft strokes in and out of me,
until I can’t take it anymore. I collapse on the ground, dizzy and drained. We
smile at each other and I take a deep breath, nod to him that I do in fact,
feel better. He chuckles at my face, which is probably silly, relieved and
happy, lighter than I have been since David told me late that horrible Tuesday
night, “Yes, I slept with her. It’s been going on for two months.”

The huge
weight I didn’t know I was carrying,
is
gone.

James
tells me he’s going to go grab some tissues and water to clean off my face, and
just as I nod, we both hear a female gasp loudly. He jumps off me. I pull my
dress down, fast, looking to the sound. Standing there in the curtain-doorway
is the twelve-year old, with her mouth wide open. Well, of course it’s wide
open! She just saw James’ bare ass and me lying beneath him on the ground,
spread eagle, at Fashion Week! Oh no! Oh no! Oh nooooo!

“Brittany!”
He flies to her, speedily zipping his pants and tucking in his shirt.

I stand
up and brush myself off, do my best to act cool. I pull at my hair with my
hands; adjust the curly red waves, thinking a million things at once. I have no
idea what he does with the condom. I bet it’s still on him. Jeez. I can’t
believe I’m even thinking of the damn condom, but this is how my mind works.
The Bitch is going to hear about this. She is going to kill me. She won’t fire
me, because it’ll be so much more fun to make my life a living hell. Should I
quit? I could quit. Throw four years down the drain. No problem. I stare at
James and Brittany, trying to hear what they’re saying, but I don’t move. From
where I stand I hear things like “no problem” “Oh” “I can put in a good word
for you,” etc…

He’s
bribing her. YES! I love it. Let’s get Brittany on the payroll. I step forward.
Nod my head, like I agree with everything I can’t hear him saying. She is
looking at me like she just won the lottery. All of a sudden I remember that I
wasn’t so nice to her earlier. Does this bitch own me now? C’mon, Jess. Be
nice. She’s not a bitch. She’s just a young girl who wants to be in the fashion
world. I’m sure she’s got my back and it’s all going to be hunky dory.

“Well,”
she says. “Okay. Deal. Thank you. That’s so great. The show’s about to start,
you guys.” She smiles sweetly and leaves us. Hmmm.

James
turns and looks at me, stunned and crazy-eyed. “Looks like we’ve got a new
employee on the payroll.”

“What if
you can’t get her hired?”

“I will
give her such a glowing recommendation that Robert will have to hire her. He
was asking me to keep an eye out for the best candidates, anyway. All of a
sudden, she’s looking very promising,” he says, picking a piece of fuzzy lint
off my back while inspecting it. “You’re all good. Do you want to wait for me
to get some Kleenex?”

“No.
Thanks. I’m okay. You’ve done enough. I feel a million times better, save for
getting caught. Thank you.”

He scoffs
and says, “Thank you, Jess. Let’s go to work. I can’t believe it’s only 10
a.m.”

He goes
to take my hand, and I almost take it but then I pull it back with a headshake,
no. I see the realization and understanding hit him, too. If The Bitch saw us
holding hands, life as we know it would be over for both of us. It feels very
weird to not hold his hand though, after this moment we just had. It wasn’t
just a fuck… I feel like he’s my friend now. Or, maybe more?

As we
walk out, we pass again the models, the tailors, and a whole slew of other
important, distracted people. He waves at someone, looking casual. I smile at
our photographer and tell him he’s doing a great job. My mind is preoccupied,
though. Something just happened with that handholding impulse. I look at James’
back wondering… are we dating now? Do I want to date James? Considering all the
sex we’ve been having, this is an odd question, but an office fling and dating
are two very different things. Do I want James as a boyfriend? I still feel
that
friend
feeling with him, but is
that just because I’ve been hurt? Maybe, because at the word ‘boyfriend,’ my
heart screams,
Are you a masochist?!!

I can’t
think about this right now. Right now, I have to make sure goody bags are
everywhere. It’s show time.

Minutes Later

“Where
have you been? What the fuck, Jessica? Have you been crying? You look
ridiculous!” The Bitch hisses at me as I take my seat next to her, right before
the show begins.

“Thank
you,” I say. She side-eyeballs me with an impatient sneer before focusing back
on the show. I however, barely see it going by. My head is full of questions
and none of them are about having a boyfriend. Bigger issues are at hand for me
right now. Like, what just happened inside of my heart? Where did all of those
tears come from? And me thinking James was David? Thinking he has never
apologized and he should? That was spooky.

I’m on
autopilot the rest of the day, plagued with wondering. Only a few things break
through the fog my head is in. They are:

1.) James
hands me an apple around 1pm by tucking it into my hand covertly while we pass
each other in the hall. It is the only thing I eat all day.

2.) When
I give orders to Brittany, I can barely look into those twenty-year-old eyes of
hers (okay…I let her age past twelve out of deference to her cooperation). When
I do, I’m not sure what the hell she is thinking, which is terrifying.

3.)
Because I’m emotionally detached and gliding around all day - nothing goes
wrong. I should lose it more often. Maybe I’d care less. How bad could that be?

At the
end of the day, I text Amber and tell her it’s an emergency and ask, can she
please meet me for a drink. She texts back that yes, she can. Where and when?
And should she invite Nicole? Yes, please.

The more
girlfriend-support, the better.

That Night

We decide
to meet at “The Tippler” in Chelsea around 7:30 p.m. Amber said the orchids in
the drinks would cheer me up. Fine. Good. Yes. I’m in. She and I wait less than
ten minutes before Nicole walks in, joins us, reaches over to touch my hand and
purrs, “Tell me all about it, honey.”

I smile
gratefully. “I don’t really know. I had a freak out. Complete and total freak
out. Huge meltdown. All of these emotions came rushing out of me. You know me.
I keep it together pretty well. I did the opposite of keeping it together. I
fell apart and I fell apart big time.”

“Was it
your boss? Did she finally break you? I swear... I’m going to find a way to
hurt her one of these days!” Amber promises, outraged.

“No, it
wasn’t her. I was with James. I thought he and The Bitch were dating again and
I went to confront him, because he and I just had sex in one of the back tent
rooms yesterday, and I had no idea they were dating– ”

“You had
sex at Fashion Week? In public?” Amber asks, shocked.

Nicole
looks at her like she’s crazy, and asks, dumbfounded, “Have you met Jessica?”

That
makes me smile and I confess to Amber in a quieter voice, “Well, we weren’t on
the stage! But, yeah. I like sex in public places. Why should we be confined to
bedrooms, Amber? Although, after what happened with today’s session, I should
question my philosophy.”

Nicole
switches her confusion to me now. “You had sex today, too?” I nod. “I haven’t
had sex in two months you’re getting it twice in two days. What is wrong with
my life?” She rolls those scotch-colored eyes of hers and shakes her fist at
the world. It’s overly dramatic and hilarious.

“Yes. I
did. But, here’s the thing. Yesterday we had sex. So hot, right? Me bent over a
chair behind a curtain at the DVF show…”

“I love
her,” says Amber.

“I love
being bent over a chair,” adds Nicole.

I nod
that they are both right and continue, “Totally. Then today, The Bitch says
she’s taking James with her to the big event our magazine is having.”

Amber
raises her eyebrows. “She told you this?!”

“No, she
told her boss this. I was standing there.”

“Oh. That
makes more sense.”

“Right.
So then I go to tell James off and all of a sudden I’m in this whirlwind where
he’s not James anymore. All of a sudden, he’s David! And all I want is for him
to know how badly he hurt me. So that I can hear him say he’s sorry.”

“No, you
didn’t.” Nicole’s face scrunches up and looks like it might explode, but
somehow she still looks beautiful. Why do some women get all the good genes?
Plus, thanks to her African-American ancestry, her skin looks five, maybe ten
years younger than ours. She’s going to age so well, and we, Amber and myself,
are going to have to spend a million dollars on moisturizers. Yay us.

Back to
my story. “I did. I went to yell at him. He was talking to this cute little
twelve year old (she’s back to being twelve. I’m only human.) and that really
set me flying even further into crazy land.” I wave my hands like I’m looking
through tall bushes for a way out and coming up empty.

Amber
takes a big gulp of her chardonnay. “Those younger girls sure can throw you
into a tail spin. And why? Why do we do this to ourselves? I’m only 30! It’s
ridiculous!”

“I know,
right? So, that’s where my head is. I’ve just heard he’s back with my boss, now
he’s talking to a pretty young thing who’s playing with her hair, and all of a
sudden he morphs into my cheating bastard of an ex. I was in hell. I called him
an asshole! Don’t look at me like that. It gets better. Then he drags me into a
private area that is only closed by thin tent fabric and I burst into tears!
Niagara Falls pouring down my face in front of a guy! My co-worker who, in
fact, I’ve been banging… who used to bang my boss! Do I need therapy?” I ask my
best friends in the whole world, hoping they’ll help me understand myself. Lord
knows I don’t have a clue.

“No!”
Amber shouts.

“No,”
Nicole agrees, shaking her head and pursing her lips. “What you need is another
drink! We all do, before I can listen to the rest of this story.”

Amber
looks at her glass, sees a fairly significant amount staring back at her. She
looks at me from underneath raised, incredulous eyebrows and asks, “You cried
in front of him? At work?” I nod. She nods back, brings the glass to her cute
little lips and drinks it all down. She then announces, “Yes, we need another
round!”

Nicole
calls to the bartender who is very cute (you have to be, to bartend in
Manhattan) and tells him, ““Excuse me! Another round, please! Do you
remember?”
 
She’s referring to our
previous order, of course.

“Yep!” he
calls back. People are looking at us, but who cares about them?

“Wonderful!
You’re amazing! Hurry, please! This is an emergency,” she calls out and then
turns back to us.

“Anything
for you, gorgeous,” he hollers in a tone that makes all of our heads twist in
his direction. Well, well, well. Nicole blinks once, takes him in, blinks a
second time, and breaks into an embarrassed, shy smile. He’s bearded, burly,
and looks like Clive Owen with even more testosterone, which is saying
something. I can’t believe her reaction. I think my jaw is on the table,
because I have never seen her be… what’s the best word for it? Coquettish? Yes.
Coquettish!

“Looks
like your two month long dry patch just got wet,” I whisper loud enough for
only the two of them to hear. Amber giggles, biting her tongue through her
teeth like she does, with the tip of it sticking out through her cute little
smile. Nicole shoots me a hopeful look and we all remain silent while we wait
for our drinks. Time for Nicole to check out the menu! (I’m so glad I didn’t
say that aloud. They can’t all be gems.) Nicole has an admirer that makes her
go girly! Yay! She’s such a great person. I hope she finds someone who makes
her happy. She deserves it, and she’s been looking for someone interesting for
a while now.

 
As for myself? I don’t want that. No, I’m
just not ready for anything serious right now.

Wait…is that
true?

    
“Thank you,” Nicole
purrs to the bartender as he puts our new drinks on the table. He’s made the
extra effort to come out from the behind the bar to deliver them to us or -
more accurately - to her, personally.

“What’s
your name?” he asks Nicole. I size him up quickly. He has hazel eyes framed by
warm smile lines. His hair and beard have a slight ginger tinge to them. Nice.
From his overall essence and air of confidence and commence, I think he just
might be man enough for our Nicole. This could be interesting. Amber and I
share a look and I know she’s thinking the same thing I am.

“I’m
Nicole, and this is Amber, and that’s Jessica,” she motions to us with a small
head nod, politely. The smile she gives him is more than polite.

“Ladies.
Nice to meet you. These are on me…” But as we begin oohing and ahhing with
“thank you’s” he holds out a hand in the stop position and adds, to Nicole,
“…on one condition. That you let me take you out this Friday night.”

Nicole
can’t take her eyes off him. She takes a deep breath in. “Friday? Um… sure. I’d
like that.”

“Great.
Here’s my phone. Please put your number in it for me. I have to go make
drinks.” He drops his iPhone on the table and walks back behind the bar,
leaving us watching him with our mouths hanging open. As he walks away we can
hear him turning her name over in his mind as he repeats, “Nicole. Ni-cole.”
When he steps behind the bar, their eyes meet and he smiles at her one last
time, before going back to work.

Amber’s
blue eyes are fixed on Nicole as she reaches over, grabs her arm and breathes,
“Wow. That was amazing.”

“Well,
looks like I have a date,” Nicole quietly says, almost to herself, as she picks
up his phone, opens up the contact list and adds hers. “He doesn’t have Emoji,
or I’d put a heart by it. That would be too much, wouldn’t it?” She looks to me
and I say yes, but Amber tries to veto and says no. I remind her of the flowers
and that shuts her up.

Leaning
forward I acquiesce, in a conspiratorial whisper, “You can put a winky-face,
though.”

“How is
that different than flowers?” Amber argues. I wink at her. She says, “Oh.”

“Yes. Put
a winky-face. Every time he pulls up your name, that little flirtation will
make him smile.” Nicole nods, agrees with me and puts the winky-face.

We all
pick up our drinks and toast to the unknown surprises of life.

Nicole
asks me, “So, what were you saying, honey?”

“You know
what? I figured it out. I just don’t want to be in a relationship right now.
It’s the instinct that keeps popping up before I even realize that’s what I’m
thinking. I have to trust that, don’t I? On top of that, I now know that I
really want David to apologize to me. I want to hear him say he’s sorry.” I
shrug and take another sip of my Chopin on the rocks, two limes. It’s
refreshing and it makes me feel better.

“He may
never do that, Jess.” Amber warns me, protectively.

“He
should! But he probably won’t,” Nicole adds, disgusted.

“It
doesn’t matter. I know it. And that’s all that matters. Maybe that’s why I keep
running into him. This unfinished business is drawing him to me?”

“You saw
him AGAIN?” they both ask, simultaneously.

“Yep! Can
you believe it? This morning, before work. He was in line at Pax. He didn’t see
me, though. I ran out of there.”

“Oh well,
there ya go!” Amber announces like she just found the answer to life, the
universe and everything.

“What?” I
am totally in the dark. Nicole, too, waits, all ears.

Amber
excitedly tells me, “That’s why you were side-swiped by your emotions. You run
into him, dodge him and your feelings, and then bam, The Bitch drops a bomb and
oh, wait… ”

I read
her mind. “James is not back with The Bitch. It’s just in her crazy mind. She
thinks she can make him go, just like she makes everyone do everything.”

“How
sad!” Nicole whispers.

We all
get quiet for a minute. Then we look at each other and I say, “Screw her,” and
we toast one more time.

I love my girlfriends.