The Emi Lost & Found Series

by Lori L. Otto

  “Okay,” I agree. “So when can I see you again?”

  He weaves his fingers in between mine and caresses my thumbs with his. “Can’t wait until next Friday?” He kisses me sweetly.

  “God, no, can you?”

  “Not after that. I just want to see more of you now.” I catch his double entendre. “Why don’t we see if Chris and Anna want to go out next week? I haven’t seen them at all since they got back from Hawaii.”

  “Perfect,” I agree. “I’ll call them in the morning and let you know when. What time will you be done tomorrow?”

  “Hopefully early afternoon,” he says. “You know, I could just stop by on my way back to the house.”

  “I’d like that.”

  He picks our hands up and kisses both of my thumbs as he walks backwards toward the door. “Will you be alone?” he asks, suspicious.

  “I will not,” I tell him, jutting my lip out in a pout.

  “Do that again,” he dares me, and I comply. His lips capture my bottom one, his tongue tracing it lightly.

  “Okay, stop,” I laugh, pushing him against the door.

  “Sorry,” he smiles sheepishly. “I couldn’t resist. So you won’t be alone tomorrow?” His question is plaintive, but teasing. I shake my head, careful not to pout this time because his kisses are driving me insane at this point.

  “Then I’ll be over as soon as I’m done.” He kisses my cheek. “Sleep well, Emi.”

  “Sweet dreams, Jack.”

  He smiles an impish grin. “Of you...” he adds. “Thank you for giving me something to dream about.” He kisses me once more, my knees growing weak, before he leaves. After locking the door, I can feel myself blush again, a big smile breaking across my face as I think about the way he touched me... about how close we were... how close I was...

  In hopes that I may catch another glimpse of him, I look back through the peephole. I can see the neighbor’s door across the hall and nothing else... I turn around to walk away when I hear a faint tapping on the door.

  I rush back, probably making too much noise as I anxiously unlock the door.

  “One more thing,” he says as he leans in the doorway.

  “Yes?” I grasp the ends of his shirt, holding him close to me.

  “Please tell me the second you’re sure.” He holds my head steady while he looks deep into my eyes. “I want you more than I’ve wanted anything in my life.” The sweetest of kisses follows. “And I know you feel the same way.” He pulls away to see my reaction, which is my natural blush and a stubborn smile. “Just let me know when you figure that out.” He kisses my forehead and turns around, leaving me staring down the hallway, my eyes following his every movement.

  I lean, weak, against the door frame. When the elevator doors open, he finally looks back at me, putting two fingers up to his lips and blowing me a subtle kiss before disappearing from my sight.

  CHAPTER 13

  I’m running late to the restaurant, having changed clothes about ten times trying to find the perfect outfit. I wanted to find something that would tease Jack just enough... but I didn’t want it to be obvious that that was my plan. I finally decide on a lightweight button up silk blouse with a corduroy jacket over it... and I purposefully leave the top three buttons undone. If I lean over just right, the new pink bra I bought earlier in the week peeks out. The airy skirt I selected barely flirts with my knees, and my high-heeled knee-high boots were chosen to deliberately draw attention to my legs. I pull my hair back and tie it loosely, tendrils not quite long enough to fit in the hair ties hanging casually on each side of my face. I put on minimal makeup, knowing that he likes me without it. I finish off the look with a little mascara and light pink gloss.

  Our romantic relationship has been just that: ours. We have not invited friends or family into the mix yet, not wanting any pressure from over-eager siblings or parents. We want to take our time getting to know one another, at our own pace. Or rather, at my own pace. We aren’t ready to show physical affection to one another in front of people we know, still keeping a little distance between us. We’ve chosen to keep the details of our relationship as private as possible since Chris and Anna’s wedding. It helps that Jack isn’t too big on public displays of affection, either. If this works out, though, he’ll just have to get over that. He’s been doing pretty well so far.

  Since Halloween last week, we’ve seen each other every day but one. We’ve been meeting for dinner and spending the evenings together. We’ve gone for walks, gone to movies... and every night ends with more than one amazing kiss at my front door. We had considered outing ourselves to Anna and Chris tonight– after all, they would naturally be the first to know– but we both decided that it was too soon.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I announce to Jack, Anna and Chris when I show up.

  “Emi, you look great!” Anna exclaims. “I’ve missed seeing you!”

  “Hey, sis,” Chris says, hugging me.

  Jack eyes me from head to toe and smiles slyly as he stands up to pull out my chair for me across from my brother and sister-in-law.

  “Emi,” he says politely. We had made a deal tonight. After a phone conversation filled with sexual innuendos this afternoon, we had challenged each other to go the entire night without any physical contact whatsoever. I expected it to be hard. And a little awkward. It already was... and I already wanted to break the rules at one glance. His hair was slightly messy, and he hadn’t shaved. He was wearing the jeans I had complimented him on a few weeks earlier. He knows what I like. He is playing the same game I am playing.

  “Touché,” I whisper to him, carefully keeping my distance. He winks and smiles at me.

  “I’m going to go grab a drink at the bar, Emi, would you like something?”

  “Sure, how about a cherry vodka sour?” He raises his eyebrows, grinning.

  “Of course,” he sighs. “Cherry. Vodka. Sour. Got it.”

  “Thanks,” I say pertly.

  “So?” Anna asks, anxious. “How are things going with you two?”

  “Okay, I guess,” I tell her with a smile and a shrug.

  “Jen says you’ve been seeing a lot of one another lately,” Chris adds suspiciously.

  “We’re just hanging out, that’s all,” I say casually. My phone vibrates in my purse. I pull it out and notice a text from Jack. “Sorry,” I tell my brother and his wife, reading the message.

  “You look incredibly sexy tonight.”

  I smile to myself. “It’s Teresa, we’re supposed to meet up later,” I lie. “Just a sec.”

  I text back. “What’s with the scruff? You know I can’t resist the scruff! Gah! It’s like a magnet for my hands, you know that!”

  “Yes,” he responds quickly. “I do know that. Dare ya.”

  He sits down next to me before I can respond, setting the drink in front of me. “So, tell us all about the honeymoon,” Jack says, inadvertently (but thankfully) cutting short the conversation Anna had started. “How was the resort?”

  The conversation at dinner stays focused on Chris and Anna and all the tourist-things they did in Hawaii. Anna passes her camera to us and lets us look at pictures. Jack is holding the camera between us, thumbing through them as we both look at the display, still careful not to touch. He is taunting me, though, trying to angle the camera certain ways so I’ll try to grab it from him, accidentally touch him.

  I keep my hands to myself, though... and begin to scratch my leg at the hem of my skirt. I continue to carry on the conversation with Anna, not missing a beat. My hand moves closer to my body, slowly, taking the hemline of my skirt with me. I hear Jack inhale between his teeth as he sees my motion out of the corner of his eye, still trying to look at the pictures as he pulls the camera closer into his lap to mask where his eyes are drawn. Finally, my fingers scratching my upper thigh lightly, I feel his hand discretely pressing down on top of mine. I don’t look at him, but can’t fight the smug smile from spreading across my face.

  After dessert,
knowing that I won’t be going home with Jack and wanting to– badly– I leave before everyone else, using Teresa as my excuse. Even though Jack already lost the challenge, I just wave goodbye to him after hugging my brother and Anna. I feel like we made it through dinner without raising any suspicions.

  I ponder actually calling Teresa to see if she wants to meet up, but decide against it, not wanting to be turned down once again. Ever since Bradley moved in with her, she spends all of her time with him. They might as well be an old married couple... but good for her. It’s about time she settled down with someone.

  As soon as I get home to the empty apartment– Jen and Clara were staying with our mother tonight– I head to the jacuzzi with a glass of wine for some much-needed alone time.

  Feeling strangely smug and happy, and a little buzzed after another glass of wine, I decide to put on my new baby-doll nightie to sleep in. As I turn off the lights and crawl into bed, I hear a light scratching on the door. I flick on the small lamp on my night stand and pull on my short silk robe and my slippers, knowing exactly who is on the other side of the door.

  Keeping the chain fastened, I stand behind the door and peek through the opening.

  “Not nice,” he greets me, smiling.

  “I never claimed to be,” I tell him, unchaining the door and opening it, revealing my robed body to him in the light from the hallway.

  “Now you’re really not being nice,” he says, eyeing my attire.

  “One more thing,” I tease him.

  “What would that be?” he asks, walking toward me. I stop him a few steps in, my hands on his firm chest.

  “They’re not home,” I nod to Jen’s bedroom and look at him wistfully. “You can’t be here. You know the rules.”

  He puts his hand to his chin, rubbing the scruff in thought. “Yeah, but I need to sit down for a few minutes. I had a little too much to drink,” he says, brushing past me and heading to the couch. I close and lock the door, taking a deep breath, feeling his pull, his desire, and wanting the same... but so unsure, still. I walk to the middle of the living room and stand across from him, fidgeting. He can’t keep his eyes off of me.

  He stands up and comes to me, his hands running down my arms to still me. He takes the ends of the belt from my robe in his hands. His eyes linger on it before they meet mine, questioning me. “Plus, I’ve already broken the rules tonight,” he says. His glance asks for permission. I hold his stare, watching him, don’t stop him. He slowly unties the belt and opens up the robe a few inches, revealing the nightie beneath.

  “What is this?” he says, sighing, sounding defeated. He puts his forehead on mine and rests for a second, his lips so close. The pull to his unshaven chin is too much for me to resist, and I touch it lightly, rub my thumb over its rugged texture.

  “I wasn’t expecting you,” I whisper to him. “I was just going to bed... to sleep...” My heart races as I see the lust in his eyes. I recognize that look from Halloween, realizing I’m at an even worse disadvantage tonight. Then, his thoughts were fairly clear– even when my intentions weren’t. Tonight, we’ve both had a little too much to drink and we are completely alone. All night.

  “I am so attracted to you, Emi,” he says, removing the robe and tossing it onto a nearby chair. The baby-doll shirt hangs above the top of my thigh, revealing just a hint of the matching silk panties beneath. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he says, pulling his head back to scan my entire body. “How am I supposed to not want you, when you stand in front of me, like this?”

  “I never said you shouldn’t want me. I just don’t think you can have me... yet...” He leans in slowly, kisses me softly, his hands on my neck. My body, awakened by his touch, begins to operate on its own, driven by my own longing. I hold on tightly to his shirt, then tentatively untuck it from his jeans, my mind losing the battle with my heart.

  “Don’t think... yet... it sounds like you’re still not sure.” He pulls down one strap from my shoulder and kisses it as I move my hands to his hair, running my fingers through it, messing it up the way I like it.

  “That’s exactly right,” I tell him. “I’m not sure.” I stare intently at the buttons on his shirt, unbuttoning each one methodically.

  “Why aren’t you stopping me?” he asks, kissing my other shoulder and then moving his lips to my collarbone.

  “I don’t know,” I whisper, pulling his mouth back to mine.

  “Why are you helping me?” He shrugs out of his dress shirt revealing a thin t-shirt underneath, then runs his hands down the length of my body, kneeling in front of me. His hand on the back of my calf, he leans in to me and kisses the scar on my knee, a slow kiss that doesn’t miss a single inch of the permanent mark left there by the accident.

  He looks up at me, proceeding with caution. I smooth his hair down and swallow audibly, smiling softly. He lifts my top a few inches and kisses my stomach.

  “I don’t know,” I sigh.

  His fingers trace the elastic of my panties, and he slowly turns my body, kissing my waistline, until my back is to him. Still kneeling behind me, he puts his hands on my left ankle and drags his fingers up my calf, over my knee, lower thigh, upper thigh. I gasp quietly as his thumb brushes against me. I feel him kiss my lower back as he positions his hands on my right ankle and recreates the sensation on the other side of my body. Again, his thumb grazes me, lingers there. I feel the pulsating grow throughout my entire body.

  “Jack,” I whisper as I look at him over my shoulder. His eyes find mine as he begins to stand up. His hands grip the hem of my top as his lips find mine, gently brush against them. Still watching me, he begins to lift my shirt over my head. I raise my arms, willingly, leaning back into his body, as he slowly feels his way down my arms. He kisses my neck with a soft moan as his right hand takes pause on my breast, massaging it tenderly. His left hand continues down my body, lower. I stop his hand from reaching beneath the silk even though I desperately want him to touch me. He sighs when his fingers feel my reaction to his foreplay through the fabric.

  I take both of his hands into mine and turn myself around to face him, exposing my nearly-nude body to him, presenting myself to him. With my hands in his, he steps backwards to the couch, sitting down, pulling me into his lap. He grasps my waist and holds me still while he kisses my neck, then moves his lips to my breast. He skims my nipple with his tongue before taking it into his mouth, sucking lightly, eliciting an involuntary whimper from my lips. He looks up at me and smiles, moves his hands to either side of my face and kisses me passionately. I shift slightly in his lap and feel his response to me through my thin underwear. I move my hips, pressing against him.

  “Oh, god,” he groans into my mouth. “You are so sexy, like this. Your hair,” he says, running his fingers through it. “Your eyes, your lips. Your lips are so perfect. Your kiss...” He mumbles as we kiss again, more, still, the pace quicker, more desperate. “Are you still unsure?” he whispers to me, anguish in his quiet voice.

  I pull away slightly, biting my lip, considering his question as thoughtfully as I can with my clouded judgment. Desire in his eyes, his mouth swollen, yearning for mine, I nod my head and press against him, harder.

  “Mmmm...” he responds to my motion. “Yes, you’re unsure?” he waits for clarification, his thumbs lingering on my ribcage, rubbing circles. I long for his hands on my breasts again, give him permission by moving them there. “Or yes, you’re ready?” he smiles, reading my actions as the answer he was hoping for.

  I nod again, still in a haze, still moving over his body.

  “Emi,” he says, stopping my motion. “Please be clear with me. Which one is it? Because if you’re not sure, you have got to stop doing that.” He smiles, pleading, pushing a strand of my hair out of my face. His hands press into my thighs.

  I look down in between us, distracted too much by the hopeful expression on his face. The fact that I can’t answer him says it all. His fingers under my chin, he lifts my head back up.

 
“I love you,” he tells me, and my heart stops, a strange deja vu playing in the recesses of my mind. “Let me show you.” He kisses me again, and I’m almost willing to let myself live in this moment with him. His kiss does that to me.

  One transcendent kiss... that later makes lovers...

  “No,” I whisper to myself. My eyes immediately begin to water, my thoughts drift suddenly back to Nate, replaying in my mind the moment when he first voiced those words to me, as well as the various occasions he had told me he loved me, many times in this same position on this very couch. This couch! My skin begins to crawl, and I shiver at the thought of him seeing this happen in his apartment, on the couch that he bought. I close my eyes, releasing the tears onto Jack’s awaiting thumbs.

  “Not here,” I choke out to him. “Not yet.”

  “I know,” he says, pulling me into his chest and embracing me tightly. “Shhh...” he soothes me. He picks up my robe and drapes it over my shoulders. “But Emi,” he says, pushing me away from his body so he can communicate clearly to me, “I do love you.”

  I nod again. I do believe him. After we talk for a few hours, Jack feels okay to drive home, but tells me he’s not comfortable leaving me alone tonight. Always happier in his company, I let him stay, eventually going to sleep in his arms on the couch.

  ~ * ~

  “Did you do what I asked?” Jack asks when I call him a few days after Thanksgiving.

  “It’s noon, and I just woke up. So, yes.” He had told me last night that he made plans for us. He requested that I sleep as late as I possibly could.

  “Good,” he says. “Now get up and get ready.”

  “What am I getting ready for?” I whine, still groggy, but still excited to see him today.

  “I told you, it’s a surprise. Just dress casually... something comfortable. And please bring a jacket...”

  “Yes, sir. Do I need to bring anything else?”