Just Breathe Series (Trilogy Box Set)

by Martha Sweeney

  “Fuck,” she whimpers.

  “What is she doing to you?” Henry asks while keeping his lips glued to hers.

  “She’s . . .” Maggie pants. She yelps a little when the car moves forward again. “She’s fucking me . . . with her . . . fingers.”

  My free hand grips her hair, pulling her head to one side for my tongue to get to her neck. Maggie bounces up and down over my fingers as I pulse them inside. Her fingers tighten into the back of the leather seats when I manage to free one of her breasts from her bra and bite down on her nipple. It doesn’t take long for Maggie to cum again when I hit one of her special spots.

  Once Maggie’s breathing normalizes, she takes my hand from her sex and devours all of the liquid she spilled all over me. Her mouth returns to mine and she eagerly forces my body to turn to the side. I nervously fight for a few seconds, still not sure if I want to do this with Joe sitting up front.

  “I want to taste you,” Maggie confesses into my ear. “Make you cum.”

  She sees the contention on my face and smiles reassuringly. My head twitches forward slightly, agreeing to let her have her way with me. We kiss for a while as her fingers undo my pants and slide in to play. My hips sway to match her movement as my body becomes more desperate to cum. As good as her fingers feel, I uncontrollably groan at my inability to orgasm. Maggie lifts my shirt, kissing my skin from my chest, past my belly to just above my pant line. I whimper when she removes her fingers from me to take off my pants. Her mouth springs to my sex, swirling her tongue over my clit like a tornado while her fingers plunge into me.

  “You better make her cum,” Henry commands.

  I can’t help but laugh, distracted by his words.

  “You better make her cum before we get back,” He continues. “If she doesn’t cum, you won’t cum later.”

  Maggie grunts into me, obviously not enjoying his threat. Her fingers and tongue continue to tease me, bringing me close, but never to full climax. My right hand extends out, needing something to grab onto out of frustration. Curling into the corner of the chair in front of me, my nails dig into the fabric. Something warm brushes against my arm, causing my head to glance at the source as the orgasm flurries through me. A smile creeps across my face when I realize that Joe has reached between the door and chair to touch me. My fingers tighten around his as my body shakes from the aftermath of my release.

  Maggie and I finish dressing right as Henry pulls up the long driveway to the cabin. Once inside the garage, Maggie jumps out of the back seat and into Henry’s arms. Feeling awkward, I dart inside after them as Henry gets the door open to the house. Sadie happily greets us all.

  Not sure what to say or how to handle the moment with Joe, I head to the back, large wooden porch and take Sadie out, letting her run around and relieve herself one last time for the night. As Sadie darts off the deck, the low back porch light goes out and the door opens. My head spins to see what’s going on and two seconds later, Joe is standing right in front of me. He cups my face and delivers his lips to mine with sweet force — I swear I can feel a flood of emotions pour from him by the way he touches me. When his mouth lets go, I notice that my body has molded to his with my arms twisting up his back.

  “I miss you,” he says, sounding like he’s choking back tears.

  I’m unable to say a word, unsure how to express myself. Instead, my arms reach up and curl around his neck, pulling him as close to me as I can. We stand, holding each other for a very long time.

  “Are we . . . good?” he asks with nervousness in his voice.

  “Yes,” I breathe out. My lips reach for his to reassure him.

  “Good,” he says more confidently. Joe buries his face in my neck, letting out a sign of relief. “We should go in,” he regrettably suggests.

  “Yeah,” I agree, not willing to let go just yet.

  When the cold becomes too much for us, and Sadie is whimpering to be let in, Joe and I quietly move inside. He walks me to my room, holding my hand the whole time. Joe opens the door, gesturing for me to go in first. Sadie is quick to follow and jumps on the bed, ready to turn in for the night.

  Joe takes a step inside the room and we both pause when we hear a funny sound. “They’re back,” he announces. His lips take mine frantically. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

  “Goodnight,” I reply with my lips chasing his.

  He takes another look at me before stealing one last kiss and then rushes down the hall to his bedroom. Joe turns to look at me when he gets to his door. We stand, looking at each other until we hear voices coming from below. I hesitantly go inside my room while Joe stays still, probably watching me until my door closes shut.

  One Hundred Four

  New Year’s Eve is upon us and Joe and I haven’t been able to be alone to talk or be sexually intimate — not that it matters with it being that time of the month. We’ve gone back and forth via text messages and phone calls when we can, but when one of us is clear to talk about what happened, the other is in close proximity to someone who may overhear.

  Joe’s parents invited my friends and family to their annual New Year’s Eve bash they have hosted for the past several years. Maggie’s family went back to California the day my friends and I went up to Connecticut, so it’s just Jared, Maggie, Henry, Nathan, Pop-Pop, Joanna and me left on the East Coast. Henry’s parents have stayed in town and don’t plan on leaving until the day after New Year’s.

  As I’m transferring a few things from my main purse into my clutch that I’m using for the night, my eyes come across a note tied to two extra keys on my keychain:

  Just in case you change your mind.

  xoxo

  Joe

  I smile at his forwardness, glad to know he hasn’t given up on me.

  Arriving to the party, my eyes soak up the brilliance of the building and the ballroom is exquisite. There are at least three hundred people in attendance and I’m thoroughly enjoying not being followed by the media.

  Once I’m oriented, I make sure to greet everyone of the Covelli family and am a little sad to see that the kids didn’t join us, but then again, this isn’t a party that would suit children. Throughout the night, everyone chats, eats and dances. Mr. Covelli requests a dance with me and I happily oblige when I’m done dancing with Jared. With it being an older crowd, there’s less fast-paced music being performed by the musicians — they’re primarily playing a wide variety of classical music.

  After having a bit of wine to cope with the jitters of the celebration, I make my wait out into the main lobby area to use the restroom. Right as I’m rounding doorway from the ballroom, I practically bump into a blonde who appears to be about my age.

  “Watch where you’re going,” she snaps.

  Despite the fact that I was the one looking where I was going and she was the one who had her head turned, talking to her two friends, I smile and nod. “Pardon me.”

  “Whatever,” she barks, unimpressed with my apology.

  I continue forward, not looking back or thinking about the whole thing. When I return to the party, I find Mrs. Covelli who is waving me over to her.

  “Emma, sweetheart,” Mrs. Covelli calls as I approach. “This is Melinda Silkworth.”

  “Hello,” I happily greet, finally putting a face to the name. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Silkworth.”

  “Please, Emma,” Mrs. Silkworth begins. “Call me Melinda.”

  Mrs. Silkworth’s family has been in the textile company for generations and she is the woman Nathan has been speaking with for top quality fabrics for all of his future fashion lines. Aside from the beautiful fabrics her family creates, she has a massive list of connections in the fashion industry and plans on attending Nathan’s upcoming show.

  “Have you been able to meet Nathan tonight, Melinda?” I ask, not comfortable using her first name.

  “Oh, yes,” she confirms. “He’s delightful. Elaine introduced us not long after you all arrived. We spoke for a long while.�
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  “Good,” I praise.

  “Yes,” she agrees. “I’m so excited to see what he’s created. I loved the dresses he made for you. I already have made sure I have my checkbook ready for the show.”

  “You’re attend?” I ask, just finding out.

  “Of course. That man has more talent in his pinky than most who enter the industry. I expect grand things from him,” she adds.

  “Me too,” I agree.

  “So, Elaine here tells me that you’re Nathan’s business partner,” Mrs. Silkworth prods politely.

  “Kind of,” I confirm. “I’m more of a silent partner.”

  “The two of you seem to work really well together. I’ve studied what you both have done for his career and shop. I commend you and Nathan.”

  “Thank you,” I accept graciously.

  “I don’t want to bore you with business talk, dear,” she mentions. “Go enjoy your evening. We’ll chat more in the up coming weeks. I hope that Nathan will grant me a sneak peek of what he’s got in store for the event.”

  The funny thing is that Mrs. Silkworth doesn’t realize that I would much rather talk business than deal with the party.

  “I’ll try to bend Nathan’s ear to letting you see at least one or two pieces,” I sweetly disclose.

  “That would be lovely, thank you,” she answers. Mrs. Silkworth steps in, kissing me on each cheek. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Emma.”

  “You as well,” I return kindly. “Enjoy the rest of you evening, ladies.” I step forward, embracing Mrs. Covelli. “Thank you for inviting us, Elaine.”

  “My pleasure, sweetheart,” Mrs. Covelli answers.

  I bounce around the room, not wanting to stay in any one place throughout the night with the hope to escape during the countdown. When I hide in a corner area from Joe’s brothers and some other men who try to get me to dance with them, I feel a sudden tug on my arm.

  “Dance with me,” Joe requests assertively but sweetly.

  Noticing that Tony is on his way over, I happily agree.

  “You look beautiful,” he comments, placing his hand on my back.

  “You look pretty good yourself,” I tease.

  “Thanks,” he replies. “I picked my best suit hoping to a certain someone’s attention.”

  “You don’t have to wear much to do that,” I goad.

  “Really?”

  “Yep,” I confirm. “There are days when less is more.”

  “Good to know,” he replies.

  “And,” I continue. “Other days, it’s fun to imagine under all those layers.”

  Joe laughs. “I know what you mean.”

  Halfway through the song, Joe’s body tense and I find his jaw clenched when I look up at him.

  “What’s wrong?” I search.

  “Nothing,” he lies, moving us further into the crowd.

  “Joe,” a woman’s voice calls. “There you are.”

  My neck tingles as her voice. There’s something oddly familiar with it.

  “What do you want Abigail?” Joe asks sternly, turning me to see who’s talking to him.

  “Daddy wants to talk to you,” she announces. “Come.”

  My eyes fall upon the woman who I practically ran into on my way to the bathroom earlier. I get the distinct feeling that she’s not happy to see me dancing with Joe as she refuses to acknowledge me.

  “I’m not discussing business tonight,” Joe informs. “It’s a holiday.”

  “Well,” she begins. “It’ll only take a minute or two.”

  “Not tonight,” Joe answers more coldly.

  “Don’t be silly, Joe,” she says, ignoring him, reaching for his hand. “Come. It will only be a minute.”

  “No, Abigail,” Joe objects, taking a step back.

  Her eyes fixate on me. “Don’t be rude, Joe. You know daddy only needs you for a minute and it’s rude to keep him waiting.”

  “We never talk business during holidays,” Joe says.

  “Fine,” she says with a forced smile and a clenched jaw. “Be sure to call me tomorrow so we can arrange a time to get together.”

  Joe doesn’t confirm whether he’ll contact her or not before her expression changes when she looks back to him.

  “You still have my number, right?” she questions with an arrogantly innocent tone.

  “I haven’t had it for years,” Joe reminds.

  “It’s the same from high school. Daddy can give it to you if you’ve forgotten. I’ll catch you later for the countdown,” she claims before disappearing about two seconds later.

  Joe and I dance in silence until the song is finished. I start to pull away when it ends, but Joe pulls me closer. “Don’t go,” he begs, tightening his grip. “Please.”

  “I don’t think we should dance anymore tonight,” I comment.

  “Why?”

  “Seriously?!” I question with surprise. “Was I not the only one feeling the venom she was spitting out. Clearly she didn’t like the fact that we’ve been dancing.”

  “I know,” he sighs apologetically. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  I study Joe’s face for a moment. “Oh,” I gasp.

  “What?”

  “She was the one,” I says, understanding what just happened.

  “What do you mean?” Joe asks.

  “Your first,” I regrettably answer.

  Joe’s hands tighten. “Yes,” he confirms.

  “Good to know,” I reply.

  We remain silent for a brief time, both most likely uncomfortable by what happened and unsure what to say. The thought to mention that I found his keys pops into my head, but I don’t dare make him more agitated.

  “It’s a lovely party,” I force out.

  “I swear, Emma, nothing has happened with me and her since . . . .”

  “I know,” I say softly.

  Joe studies me for a moment and suddenly lowers his forehead to mine.

  My head snaps back as I look around to see if anyone noticed.

  “Our parents have been doing business together for a long time,” Joe mentions. “I do my best to stay away from her. I usually only run into her during social settings when I’m here.” He pauses for a few seconds. “It’s been much easier to avoid her when I’m on the West Coast.”

  “You don’t need to explain, Joe,” I offer kindly.

  “Yes I do,” he challenges.

  “No, you don’t.” I suck up the courage for my next statement. “We’re good . . . always have and always will be. I believe you. I trust you,” I say, unable to express anymore.

  Joe pulls me closer, sliding his cheek next to mine. “Thank you,” he replies.

  We don’t say anything for the rest of the song. When it’s over, I excuse myself and make my way over to Jared and Nathan. Joe and I keep our distance from each other, but always seem to find each other off in the crowd when we look around while we talk to other people or find ourselves standing still.

  Twenty minutes to midnight, I venture out to the lobby area wanting to get away from the celebration. There’s only one person whom I’d want to kiss and that’s not possible tonight, especially with a deranged, crazy woman in attendance — there were several times in the night when I caught her staring at me from a distance — a not so friendly type of expression adorning her face.

  As I exit the restroom and head down a hallway, a female voice calls out to me from behind, “Hey.”

  I turn to find Abigail and her two minions on either side of her staring at me with their eyes set on laser beam mode. Deciding to see where she takes this, I stand, waiting for her to continue. She moves closer, stopping about five feet away. All three of them look scrawny even though they’re about a few inches shorter than me. Their arms look like bone covered with skin, lacking any semblance of muscle to be able to hold them up.

  “Let’s just be clear,” Abigail begins with a snide expression. “Joe is mine. Don’t talk to him. Don’t even look at him and we’ll
get along great. Got it?”

  “Sure,” I reply as flatly and non-sarcastically as I can. “Anything else?”

  “Don’t mess with me,” she continues.

  I nod and turn to walk away.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” she calls after me. I can hear the sound of her feet stomping along the carpeting — she sounds like an ungraceful elephant.

  I refrain from commenting.

  “I’ll be watching you,” she barks.

  My right hand shoots up into the air, waving to confirm I’ve received her unthreatening message. “Happy New Year!” I cheer just before turning down the closest hallway. My body presses against the wall, waiting to check if she’s following me. The echo of a few voices bounce off the walls, but they seem to fade into the distance.

  I take stairs that are at the back of the building and make my way up to the top floor. Wanting reprieve from being found, I try each door, hoping one will open. By the fifth door, I start to give up on my quest.

  “Miss?” a voice calls, startling me.

  “Yes?” I answer calmly when I notice it’s a staff member.

  “In here,” he directs, pointing to a door next to him.

  My feet scurry across the floor, eager to find my outlet. “Thank you,” I say when I get closer.

  He nods. “The view is best from this room,” he comments, opening the door for me.

  The room is dark and empty except for a few candles burning off in the distance which seem to be at the opposite end of the room. The light emanating from them is not strong enough for me to see what’s in the room. As my mouth is about to open to question the man, my head jerks around when I feel something warm take my hand and gently guide me in.

  “Enjoy, Miss,” the man says, closing the door behind me.

  My eyes try to adjust, but it’s too dark. I don’t need the light to know who I’m with.

  “I figured an escort would be better this time,” Joe comments.

  “He didn’t,” I reply. “He only saw me right as I hit the hallway.”

  “I knew you’d escape the party on your own,” Joe confesses.