by Lori L. Otto
“Okay.” He jumps back into their conversation, and I hear their dates speaking softly amongst themselves.
“It has to be her,” one of them says, looking at her cell phone. I try to act like I’m participating in the guys’ conversation, but keep my ears attuned to the girls.
“What did he say her name was?” another asks.
“I think he said Olivia. Livvy? It’s her.”
“Hey, Jon, I love this song,” I tell him, rudely interrupting him mid-sentence. “Can we go dance?”
He looks at me, surprised, but catches on quickly. “Sure, let’s go.” When we reach the dance floor again, he puts his hands on my waist. “You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah. I think our time here is running out. Those girls figured out who I am.”
“Don’t worry about them. But if you’re ready to go, we can go. Anytime.”
“I’m okay,” I tell him, kissing him sweetly.
He looks down at me, his eyes locked with mine. He moves one hand from my waist and lifts it to my hair, touching the headband.
“Your dad is right,” he says. “With this tiara, you do look like a princess.”
“Tiara,” I laugh. “It’s just a headband.”
“So, you’re going to tell me, when you went out and tried this on, you didn’t think to yourself, ‘Wow! I look like a princess!?’”
I laugh at his impression of me. “I didn’t buy it. And in fact, I’ve only glanced at myself for a few seconds with it on. Does it look pretentious?” I ask him.
“No, it looks stunning. Did your mom buy it for you?”
“My dad gave it to me,” I tell him with a sad smile, looking away from him. I straighten his crooked tie, once more remembering the painting I’d given to my father and his obvious appreciation of it. Jon pulls my head into his chest as we move slowly to the song, and I reflect back once more to the night I’d met my parents.
After tugging on his snowflake tie, I remember how he straightened the plastic tiara I’d been wearing that night as I talked to him about what I wanted for Christmas. I wasn’t just wearing the plastic, beaded bracelets. I’d forgotten about that tiara, and begin to laugh to myself. In one simple gesture, the gift of one small, beautiful headband, he’d brought back his little Contessa, for at least one more night.
The last night as his princess. I feel a pang in my chest, as if my heart is aching.
I look up at Jon and tuck the headband into my hair, securing it in place.
“It is a tiara, isn’t it?” I ask him. I can feel the tears form in my eyes.
“Your daddy’s princess.” Jon starts to see my train of thought. I simply nod. “He’s good.”
“What do you mean?” I ask with a laugh.
“You’re not going to let me take you to the hotel tonight, are you?”
I shake my head, waiting to see the disappointment on his face.
“Well, milady,” he says with a formal accent, “when you’re ready to give this toad a chance, I think I just might become the prince of your dreams.”
“Stop it,” I tell him playfully. “You already are. And your patience will be handsomely rewarded,” I tell him with an air of nobility. “I want you. I want all of my firsts to be with you.”
“I want all of my lasts to be with you,” he says as he cradles my face in his warm hands, pulling my face to his for a kiss.
“Look at you, looking so far into the future,” I tease him. “What happened to living in the moment?”
“I am, Liv. I’m telling you exactly how I feel right now. If I can’t show you tonight, I’ve got to make sure I communicate it somehow.”
“I love you, Jon.”
“I love you, too, Olivia. We have all night, you know? What are we going to do with it?”
“I was wondering if you want to come watch some movies.”
“At your place?”
“Why not? It can still just be us. Everyone will be in bed. We’ll have the whole basement to ourselves.”
“Now, you said you didn’t want me admiring you from afar.”
“I don’t,” I laugh. “I said I wanted to kiss you... lots.”
“Do you still want that?”
“Lots,” I tell him. “And it’s fine if you can’t keep your hands off of me, too.”
“Well, this doesn’t sound too horrible.”
“We still get to spend the night with one another. It can still be romantic. It just won’t be everything. You know?”
“I still want everything,” he tells me.
“I do, too,” I assure him. “Just not tonight.”
“Okay,” he says with a grin, taking my hand and leading me out of the hotel. He casually waves to his friends as we pass by.
“You don’t feel like that’s an open invitation?” Jon asks, staring at the note I’d taped on the foyer window next to the front door. My parents would be sure to see it if they came down from their room.
“I’m home. We’re downstairs watching movies,” I read it aloud. “Did you want me to say something like ‘we’re not having sex?’” I laugh as he pinches my side.
“Whatever, Liv.” He wastes no time grabbing my hand and pulling me downstairs into the basement.
“Slow down!” I whisper loudly, yanking on his hand halfway down the stairway. “This outfit isn’t really that easy to walk in!”
“Sorry, sorry.” He wraps his arms around me and picks me up before I can protest, carrying me the rest of the way down. He sets me in front of my bedroom door. “Go put something else on,” he says.
“It’s not like we’re going to walk anymore.”
“Did you want to wear the gown all night? I mean, I don’t mind, but it might get in the way.”
“Maybe that’s the point,” I say coquettishly.
“You don’t want that,” he grins. “I know you don’t.”
“No, I don’t. I’m going to change.” I start to shut the door, but turn around and plant a quick kiss on his cheek before I do. When I catch sight of myself in the mirror, a part of me doesn’t want to put anything else on. I carefully unpin my hair that Lexi had worked so hard to secure in place. The curls fall messily on my shoulders. I start to take the headband off, but I like the way it looks, and feels.
The red box still sits on my dresser. I’m careful when I take the delicate necklace off and place it gently in its holder. I smile, remembering the moment Dad gave it to me. It was the night before they induced labor on my mother. He had a careful speech planned for me, but to this day I don’t remember much of it. I was in shock once I saw the sparkling jewels.
“Do you know what they say about diamonds?” he’d asked me.
“That they’re a girl’s best friend,” I recited to him, touching the stones. He laughed a little at my answer.
“Well, yes, that,” he’d said, “but also that they symbolize forever.”
“Oh,” I say. “Dad, are these real?”
“Yes, Livvy. I know you think that your whole life is going to change tomorrow, and I’m not going to lie, it will. But I want you to know that I will always feel the same way about you as I do today, and as I did the day we adopted you and the day we met you. You’ll forever be my Contessa, and no one will ever take that from us. Not even Jackson.”
I remember asking him questions about where he got it, and how much it cost him– I was ten, and etiquette wasn’t something I’d mastered yet. I don’t remember his answers, though. I just remember that feeling of being loved completely, and I had no doubt then I’d always hold a special place in his heart. I don’t know how I could have believed anything else.
I shut the case and tuck the box back in my drawer, then locate the necklace Jon had given me and put it back on.
Reaching around to the zipper on my dress, I realize I can’t unfasten the hook by myself. I try a few times in vain, but I can’t do it. I take a deep breath and go back to open my door. Jon’s on the couch, wearing only his sleeveless undershirt and his slacks. His feet a
re bare, and as he rises off the sofa, I catch a glimpse of the tattoo.
“Change of heart?” he asks.
“I can’t get it unfastened,” I tell him with a shy smile, turning my back to him.
He moves my hair over my shoulder and I feel him undo the hook. “Do you need help with the zipper, too?”
“Just a little,” I tell him, taking a deep breath and bracing myself for his reaction to what I’m wearing. I feel his fingers hit the middle of my back and tell him I’ll get it the rest of the way. He doesn’t let go, though, and continues pulling the zipper down. I put my head in my hands, feeling the blush.
“What are you wearing?”
I move away from him quickly, away from the doorway just in case my parents come down. “Shut the door! I have to change.”
He shakes his head, his eyes wide and unblinking. “Is that a corset?”
“No.” I brush him off. “It’s a bustier.”
“Wow.”
“Jon, my parents will kill me.”
He leans his back against the doorjamb, with one leg in my room and the other out. “The good thing about that foyer light we left on, Liv, is that the second anyone steps foot at the top of the stairs, they will cast a huge shadow that I won’t miss.”
“Still...”
“Can I please see what I’m missing?”
“Why do you want to torture yourself like that?” I ask him.
“Just... please? I’ll stay right here. I’ll admire you from afar,” he says with a sexy grin, “even though you said you didn’t want that.”
I stare at him long and hard, deciding what to do. I break our gaze to take one more look at myself in the mirror, in the dress, in the tiara.
I finish unzipping the gown and cautiously step out of it, careful not to snag the chiffon with the heels of my shoes.
“Oh, god,” he breathes as he takes a step toward me.
“Stay there,” I tell him. “Watch for the shadows.” I laugh as I move in his direction. He looks quickly toward the stairway, but can’t keep his eyes away from me for more than a second. The look on his face gives me the confidence I need to walk right up to him and kiss him. His hands wrap around my back as his fingers explore the bustier and matching panties. Every time I take a breath, I look into the media room for any sign of my family members. Clearly, this can’t continue because I can’t relax.
“There,” I say as I pull away and kick my heels off. “See, you’re not missing anything,” I tease him as I go to my closet.
“Keep it on,” he urges me. “Please.”
“I can’t just go lounge on the couch with this on.”
“Well, of course, put something over it.” He quickly walks to the closet and yanks out a sweater before I can even complain about him leaving his post. He hands me the oversized garment I’d worn on Valentine’s day and smiles as he walks back to the doorway, glancing out. “That’s good.”
I grin, realizing why he wants me to wear it. “Easy access?”
He answers with a shrug.
“For you,” I tell him as I pull it over my head. I find some shorts that barely pass as outerwear and pull them on. The sweater covers them completely. “Good?”
“Great,” he says with his arms outstretched. “One last thing...” He reaches for the headband, but I swat his hand away and shake my head.
“Not tonight. I want to keep it on.” I wrap my arms around him and pull him back over to the couch. He supports me and lays me back against some pillows before lying down on top of me. He stares at the tiara as if it’s his worst enemy–and it pretty much is, at this moment. It’s because of the gift from my father that we’re not at the hotel right now. He narrows his eyes at it, then finally looks at me and sighs.
“The second you’re ready to take off that tiara–”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
“You won’t miss it,” he says, matter-of-fact. One side of his lip curls up as he leans in to press his mouth to mine. “In fact,” he starts, talking in between long kisses, “I bet ... I can ... make you ... forget ... all about it.” He pulls my knee up beside him so his body can align with mine, then his hand travels up my thigh and over my hip. He moves against me slowly, gripping the side of my waist with need.
“I bet you can,” I half-whisper, half-moan. I place my hands by his ears and hold his head in front of mine so he can see into my eyes. “Just not tonight. I can’t tonight. I keep hearing him say how I’m his princess.” My eyes start to water.
“Even with me, right here, doing this to you?” He shifts slightly, reminding every inch of my body where he is, reminding every inch of my body where I want him.
I bite my lip and blink, letting a lone tear fall. I nod my head.
“Well, Olivia,” he says as his thumb removes the moisture from my cheek. “I look forward to the day when I can make you mine.” He moves to my side, scooting me over on the couch and resting his leg across my body. He removes his hand from beneath my sweater to caress my face as he kisses me sweetly and slowly. I rub my hand against his tattoo. Thank God I’m not dreaming.
He starts to play with my hair.
My fingers venture beneath his shirt, lightly scraping his chest and abdominal muscles.
His thumb occasionally brushes against my ear, then my temple.
I move one of my legs out from beneath his and angle my body toward him. I suck in a quick breath at the contact he provides, and can’t hide the smile.
“Olivia,” he says softly, his firm grip massaging the nape of my neck and holding my lips close to his. I wouldn’t pull away if I could.
His fingers outstretched, weaving through my hair, he starts to gently pull at strands with the rhythm of his body moving against mine.
“I love you, Jon,” I tell him as he pushes me back against the couch cushions and puts the weight of his body back onto mine. He returns my sentiment, quickly, passionately, and I know he means it. I revel in the feeling of being loved completely. Loved by him.
He moves the sweater down, exposing my shoulder and collarbone. He kisses every patch of bare skin he can, stretching the clothing to accommodate all the places he wants to kiss me.
Wanting to do the same for him, I tug at his clothes, and as I’m scratching his back, drawing the shirt up and eventually over his head, the tiara finds its way onto the basement floor. We both hear the crystal-studded headband’s soft thud on the carpet, but neither of us acknowledges it.
I drop his shirt on top of it, deciding not to give it another thought.
No, not tonight.
MORE BOOKS BY LORI L. OTTO
Lost and Found
-Emi Lost & Found series : Book One
Time Stands Still
-Emi Lost & Found series : Book Two
Never Look Back
-Emi Lost & Found series : Book Three
Not Today, But Someday
-the prequel to the Emi Lost & Found series
For more information on where to buy additional books, click here.
SPECIAL THANKS TO
Clarinda Alcalen
Katie Galatzan
Rachel Nelson
Lexi Hart
•
Nikki Haw
Angela Meyer
•
Kristina Evans
Stephanie Barone
Shirley Otto
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Inspired by popular fiction and encouraged by close friends, Lori L. Otto returned to writing in the winter of 2008. After a sixteen-year hiatus, she rediscovered her passion for fiction and began writing what would soon become her first series: Emi Lost & Found. Although the books of Nate, Emi and Jack have concluded, other characters from the books continued their own journeys, demanding their stories be told.
Lori is currently working on two spin-off series. Contessa, the first in the Choisie series, is Lori’s fourth full-length novel, and her first foray into the Young Adult genre.
Website: http://www.lor
iotto.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/lori_otto
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/LoriLOtto
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/lori_otto
