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Interlude [Book 2]

Page 18

by Auden Dar


  Nana smiles warmly, “It was wonderful to see you as well. Please send my love to your father.”

  When Julian turns to face me, my cheeks flush, my eyes taking in his handsome face. “Darling,” he says softly. Instead of kissing my cheeks, his full lips place a bewitching kiss on mine that leaves me breathless. We both stare at one another a bit too long. My lips are met with another lingering kiss before he whispers, “You look lovely. I’ll see you at home.” As he leaves Per Se, I continue to watch him, along with the rest of the patrons, forgetting that my nana’s eyes are on me.

  My grandmother clears her throat. “Evangelina, dear. Andrew was your first love and a great friend to you. But when you were with him, you were so, shall I say uptight?” She pauses to take a sip of her wine before continuing, “I want you to have fun. I want you to enjoy life. I need you to do that. Julian … it’s obvious he makes you happy. Even though you seemed a bit uncomfortable, you looked very happy. I noticed it as soon as he walked in. You lit up, and you’re positively glowing.”

  How do I divulge that what I have with him is temporary? How do I reveal that Julian has given me the most passionate love I have ever had and he will also be the one to take it away from me?

  My grandmother is not ready to end our discussion. Questions after questions, Nana wants to hear it all. “How did you reconnect? I can’t believe you haven’t mentioned him these past few months and we talk at least once a week! I would have visited Marcel had you mentioned his condition. Evangelina, why are you so secretive?” I blush a crimson red. I don’t have the energy to answer her questions by the time we finish the nine-course meal that includes the most delicious seared foie gras with French toast. She retrieves a wallet from her bag.

  “Nana, let me take care of the check,” I plead. Besides being known as the best restaurant in America, Per Se is also known for its pricey prix fixe menu. I anticipate that the bill for the nine-course meal, along with our drinks, will place a huge dent in my pocket. And although Nana is quite well off, the idea of her paying seems foreign to me. After all, I work, and I am careful with my money. Nana is retired and spends her time helping those in need.

  “This is a belated birthday meal.” She is adamant about paying for the bill. “How often do I get to celebrate my only grandchild’s birthday?”

  “Nana, please. I’m just happy you’re here.” I summon the waiter, and he immediately informs us, “Mr. Caine took care of the bill.”

  “Now, that’s definitely something Andrew would never do,” Nana says while laughing.

  I surprise myself by laughing along with her. On our way out of the restaurant, we are handed a Per Se tin box containing butter cookies. I immediately take one out as we head toward Nana’s pied-a-terre. “These are soooo yummy,” I remark as I finish the second cookie.

  “Evangelina.” Nana seems to ponder her next words. “That’s the difference between eating at a place like Per Se and another five-star restaurant. It’s all in the details. The décor, the service, and the food were spectacular. It was decadent yet very deserving. That’s the way a lover should be. And knowing Andrew after all these years, I suspect that he’s more like a two-star restaurant. ”

  I almost choke on the first bite of the third cookie. Nana begins to pat my back. “I didn’t mean to say anything offensive.”

  “I would rather not discuss Andrew right now. We’re…” I’m unable to finish the sentence. He let me go, allowing me to walk away from our relationship. And although my mantra has been ‘I won’t marry Andrew,’ this morning, a part of me hasn’t completely rejected the idea. I have no doubt what she would think of me not only going back to him but actually marrying him.

  I should have my head examined. Note to self: seek psychological help.

  We’re now standing in front of Nana’s Art Deco apartment building when she suggests, “Why don’t you come up?”

  I study my grandmother who has been a lifeline to me. Who knows when I’ll see her again. She’s constantly traveling, making plans, arranging charity trips, and most importantly, enjoying life as she continues to help others. “Yes, I would love that. I don’t want to be anywhere else but here with you.”

  We spend hours reminiscing while listening to the Brazilian singer, Ana Carolina. After I suggest we go through photo albums, she retrieves a few from her closet, and we take our time reviewing them. In one of the photos, I am lying on the beach with Julian’s head on my belly as he reads a book. I admire the photo, and although Julian’s changed so much physically, it’s obvious he was a good-looking kid even with braces and a crew cut. Taken near the Caine’s Westport country home during a summer break, the snapshot includes my grandparents laughing along with Elisa and Marcel. I look up, and my grandmother is admiring a photograph.

  “You look so much like your mama.” She extends her hand, allowing me to study it. I am speechless. It’s been several years since I’ve seen this particular photo of my mother. The one in my hand is of my mother dressed in one of her famous Diane von Furstenberg dresses with my handsome father. I eye the date and it was taken a few days before they ran off and got married. Her long brown hair and green eyes stare back at me. My father’s dirty blond hair and blue eyes also stare back at me with a huge grin. It’s quite obvious my parents were madly in love. He has my mother scooped up in his arms and her legs are up in the air. My loft building served as a backdrop to their romantic pose.

  My eyes begin to water. “What do you think Mama would think of me?” I hesitantly ask.

  “Your mama would be very proud of you. You’re doing something you love as a career. How many are fortunate enough to claim that?” With compassion, she continues, “However, she would agree about Andrew. Life is precious. Don’t let it pass you by. You don’t want to look back on your life and ask yourself, what if?”

  I make my way to the most important woman in my life and hug her tightly. She’s absolutely right. I don’t want any regrets.

  Because Julian is waiting for me at his place, I send him a quick text:

  ME: Your presence was a pleasant surprise. Thank you for lunch. Nana and I loved it. She’s leaving early tomorrow morning and I’ll be spending the night with her.

  He immediately responds.

  JULIAN: Would you like me to tuck you in?

  I laugh to myself.

  ME:NO.

  JULIAN:I miss you already.

  ME:I miss you too.

  JULIAN:I shall think of you tonight as I fist my cock. I shall think of your gorgeous lips wrapped around it as I devour your sweet delicious pussy.

  Oh. My. God.

  The image of Julian and me doing sixty-nine hits me. It’s one of my favorite things to do with him.

  Okay, Lina, just a few hours away from him. You can handle that.

  His dirty texts drive me insane, and I’m instantly wet. I look over my shoulder, and I’m grateful Nana is still occupied with one of the photo albums. There’s no way I’m hiding my crimson colored cheeks. Moreover, if she were to read Julian’s text, she would laugh and then proceed to kick me out of her apartment. I know Nana. She would want me to have a passionate night with an insatiable man. Her words earlier today−I want my only grandchild to be in love−warms me. As much as I would love to be with Julian, I want to spend this time with her.

  ME:You’re incorrigible. I’ll see you tomorrow.

  JULIAN:I’ll be waiting …

  ME:Sweet dreams.

  In a matter of seconds, my phone vibrates. It’s the man who has me grinning from ear to ear, and I immediately answer.

  “Lina, I just wanted to hear your voice. Goodnight, sweet dreams.”

  “Goodnight, Julian.”

  After placing my phone on the coffee table, I peek up and I am met with a soft, sweet smile. “He’s taken with you, but I’m not surprised. Julian has been taken with you since he was a child. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s in love with you.” Although Miss Pendleton and Alistair have both shared the same sentiment,
he’s not.

  My time with Nana is filled with stories, photos, and home movies I haven’t seen in over a decade. We have food from Shun Lee West delivered and spend the entire night reminiscing, laughing, crying, and enjoying one another.

  Her last words before she heads to bed haunt me. “Follow your heart.” They’re the same words Franklin had expressed.

  Thirty

  Unable to sleep in the middle of the night, I tossed and turned until I received a text from Julian.

  JULIAN: I’m listening to “Prelude.”

  It’s early morning and my eighty-year-old grandmother has already left for another adventure. Although I want nothing more than to feel my lover close to me, I need to go to my apartment. Patti’s pre-engagement party is tonight, and the dress I ordered from Net-a-Porter a few weeks ago hangs in my closet. Julian had also mentioned attending a morning meeting with his advisers. Some of his business was neglected while he took care of me.

  Once in my apartment, I am greeted with solace. My stomach growls, and all I want is a nice meal. However, I need to clean myself up. I had slept in yesterday’s clothes on my nana’s guest bed. After a quick shower, I realize there’s nothing in my fridge. I order Lox and Bagels from Silver Spurs along with coffee and a side order of fruit salad. After eating the meal in a matter of minutes, I ready myself for some work. It’s been days since I worked in my home office and studio. As I am about to call Patti, I receive a text from Julian:

  JULIAN: Good morning. Mugpie missed you last night.

  ME: I missed him too.

  JULIAN: What are you up to, naughty girl?

  ME: Working @ home.

  JULIAN: Loft or our home?

  My heart melts at the thought of him suggesting the duplex as our home.

  ME: Loft. Meeting?

  JULIAN: Yes, and thinking of your candy lips wrapped around my cock.

  I almost spit out my coffee and begin to laugh out loud. Immediately, I respond:

  ME: In a few hours…

  JULIAN: A promise that I’ll hold you to. Before or after Patti’s party?

  ME: Why not both?

  JULIAN: You were made for me.

  ME: I am yours.

  JULIAN: I’ll make sure to show you how much you’re mine later. I’ll pick you up around 7.

  A huge smile forms, which will result in aching cheeks for the rest of the day. Grinning from ear to ear, the thought of having Julian in my mouth arouses me. Okay, it’s time to get back to work. I survey my room, looking for the music cue sheet I need to fill out when I notice a pair of Louboutins on the floor. Its signature red soles remind me of an adventurous escapade I had with my Englishman.

  Early last week …

  “This is ridiculously yummy. This”− I moaned while pointing at the chicken tikka masala dish before me−“might be the best I’ve ever had.” I took another generous bite before I rolled my eyes. The Indian dish was so buttery delicious it took a while to remember that I was on a date with the sexiest man I know. Three-quarters of the meal in, I finally raised my head. Julian leaned over and wiped the corner of my mouth, staring at me without a word.

  “What?” I asked while tearing a piece of Naan bread. I placed the bread on my plate and turned my attention back to my date. “Is there something wrong?”

  “Your eyes shine like emeralds in this light,” Julian whispered before taking a sip of his Riesling.

  “And you know what your eyes do to me.” I swallowed hard as I watched his stunning eyes devour me like I was his last meal.

  Heavy silence hung between us with only the sounds of other patrons conversing, glasses clinking, and Ravi Shankar’s music in the background.

  He bit his bottom lip before, “Lina,” escaped his lips. He uttered my name in a voice so low I needed cool water poured over me. I loved that tone. It was the tone that had me ready and willing to do anything.

  “Yes?” I held a spoon filled with basmati rice and chicken tikka masala in the air, trying to ignore my arousal.

  “Darling, I don’t want to rush you since you’re clearly enjoying your meal but−”

  I gawked at his intense ink blue eyes. Not a trace of light gray anywhere. And the way he bit his bottom lip? Oh, dear God, help me. Now I was ogling him like he was my last meal.

  My panties were soaked and my outfit was unbearable. It clung to me, and the only thing I wanted on me was the man before me.

  Without hesitation, I placed the neglected spoon on my plate. “I’m done.”

  We didn’t bother to wait for the check. The man I was desperate to have sex with quickly placed two hundred dollar bills on the table for a meal that was under a hundred. Julian was a man on a mission, and I was a woman ready for the ride.

  Rather than lead me outside, Julian led me down a set of stairs and knocked on a nondescript door. With no response, he cocked his head and motioned for me to enter the room.

  A bathroom.

  A single bathroom in a tiny restaurant only a short few blocks from both our homes. It would take only ten minutes max to get to his duplex.

  And although Julian helped to liberate me sexually, I was still a novice. Sex in public was a one-time adventure. We hadn’t had a repeat performance. But how could I ignore the desire behind his ink blue eyes? How could I ignore the lust in his voice? How could I ignore my soaked silk thong?

  I couldn’t, and I didn’t.

  As soon as the door behind us closed, my insatiable man pushed me up against it. His large frame hovered over mine. Gazing down, he admitted, “Darling, you deserve more than a fuck and go but my cock is so hard for you. I’ve been dying here for the past hour and a half.”

  Before laughter could escape my lips, he begged quietly in my ear, “Please say yes.”

  “Yes,” I simply answered. I had been so hot and heavy for him since this morning. Even after making love in the shower before going to work. I had been possessed with a voracious appetite for the man who wanted to fuck and go.

  He captured my lips and kissed me like the world was about to end. He kissed me as if he wanted to eradicate all the kisses I have had before him. He kissed me as if our time together wasn’t an interlude. He continued his assault on my swollen lips while slightly bending to raise the hem of my skirt. After managing to have the pencil skirt circle my waist, his delicious mouth was on my neck, licking its side, before running his lips down to my chest. Buttons inhibited further action. “Dammit,” he growled while his fingers tried to unbutton my shirt. Annoyed and impatient, he forcefully tugged my blouse, allowing all the buttons to scatter across the public restroom.

  “Julian, my shirt,” I scolded although I loved his animalistic tendencies.

  “I know. I’ll get you another one.”

  “I can’t go out like this.” I pointed at my bosoms peeking out of my open shirt.

  “My God, your breasts are amazing.” His enlarged eyes focused on my tits.

  “Julian, my blouse.” I chided, knowing full well he didn’t care. Who was I kidding? I really didn’t care either.

  And before I could say more, his skillful fingers started tugging on my silk thong before completely tearing it off me. “Christ, I love how wet you are. I promise to eat your pussy later.”

  “I’ll hold you to it.” I smirked, completely forgetting about my blouse.

  Julian lifted me up as if I weighed nothing and moved us to a wall. “We don’t want to break that door down.”

  With my back against the paneled structure, and my legs wrapped around his waist, there was no other place I would rather be. He had pulled his pants down to his thighs. My thin pencil skirt was bunched up around my waist. My discarded silk thong and the scattered buttons were only a few feet away from us. My nude heels were still on.

  The man who made me crazy with lust ran his heavy length up and down my wet slit. Teased me. Tormented me. Waited for me to beg. And I did. I begged like a junkie needing a fix. Because I had been starving for the man before me for hours.

/>   “Please,” I implored. “I want him in me.”

  Julian stood motionless, studying my face before a cocky grin appeared on his staggeringly handsome face. And before my second, “Please,” escaped my lips, he plunged deep inside me. My walls gripped him so tightly he stilled again. “Lina, if you continue to squeeze me like that, I’m going to come before you do. And we can’t have that, can we?”

  I expected a quick three-minute rendezvous, but it was longer. Even though I was drenched with desire, it took a while for my orgasm to build up. I was scared that someone would walk in and throw us out of my new favorite restaurant.

  “Julian,” I panted between breaths. “I’m … I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” he asked as he continued to pound into me. He was so deep inside me I could feel his balls.

  “My …” I tried to formulate my words, but his length was hitting that pleasure spot. “My … my … my heels … they’re digging into your ass.”

  Without missing a beat, he trailed his lips along my neck before growling against my ear, “And my cock is digging into your tight, wet pussy. I think we’re about even.”

  I laughed and came at the same time.

  A first for me.

  I giggle at the memory before glancing at the clock a few feet away from my desk. I should just call it a day, but emails need to be answered and music cues need to be submitted. It’s been several days since I went through my work email. Roger sent me a text early this morning, reminding me that I needed to electronically sign a document.

  While perusing through my computer in search of Roger’s email, I notice a message from an unfamiliar address. The heading subject reads JC Rutherford and his lady love.

  Hmm.

  I don’t recall anyone taking a photo of me with Julian. Moreover, Patti once mentioned that Julian never poses for paparazzi. Of course, curiosity gets the best of me, and without hesitation, I open the email and click on the image that, in a matter of seconds, destroys me.

 

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