The Day to Remember (Emma's Story)

by Wood, Jessica

  “Oh, hi Des.” Why was she calling?

  “Wow, don’t try to sound too excited to hear from me,” she said flatly.

  “I’m sorry, Des, but after the mess you made by telling Emma you’re my girlfriend, I’m not really in the mood to talk to you. Besides, I’m in a hurry. What’s up?” I tried my best to sound patient.

  “In a hurry?” she asked as she ignored everything else I said. “Let me guess? Are you going to go see that girl?”

  I felt annoyed by Desiree’s dismissiveness. “If you mean Emma, then yes, I am. I’m dating her, Des. I’m happy. I hope you can understand that.”

  There was silence on the other line.

  “Des? Why did you call? Do you need something?” I tried to keep my voice even, devoid of my growing irritation.

  “Well, I was just calling to let you know that I’ll be heading back to L.A. tomorrow and wanted to see if you wanted to grab breakfast before I left town.”

  “Des, I have work tomorrow. You know that.”

  “I do, but you’re also the boss, you don’t have to be there right on time. Consider it a breakfast meeting.”

  I sighed. Des was always a persistent person. It was that same persistence that had saved me those many years ago when I tried to shut everyone out as I mourned over my mother. The persistence that had saved me from falling too far into the abyss of the depression I had been spiraling down towards. And for that, I was thankful. “Okay, Des,” I sighed, “Just a short breakfast.”

  “Awesome!” she said excitedly, “Oh, and I have some exciting news to share!”

  Chapter Three

  Emma

  The intercom buzzed and I smiled. That must be Brandon.

  “Hi,” I said into the intercom.

  “Hey you, it’s me. Are you going to buzz me in this time?” he asked teasingly.

  “Careful there, or I won’t,” I teased back and then pressed the button to let Brandon through the lobby door downstairs. Excitement shot through me as I waited for Brandon to come up from the lobby. I thought about how much of a difference 24 hours could make and laughed at myself. It had all been a misunderstanding. Desiree was his ex, and I was his girlfriend. I smiled and realized how much I had overreacted.

  A knock on the door brought me out of my thoughts. I went to open it and was greeted with a bouquet of rich dark pink peonies and Brandon standing there with a gorgeous wide smile.

  “Hi,” I said breathlessly, “those are beautiful! How did you know I love peonies? These aren’t even in season.”

  “I have my ways,” Brandon said teasingly and he gave me a warm hug and kissed my right cheek.

  Must be Sarah, I thought. “Thanks. You’re too sweet.” I took the peonies from him and found a vase to put them in.

  “So this is your place,” Brandon said from somewhere behind me.

  I turned around and blushed with embarrassment as I also looked around my tiny studio apartment and thought of Brandon’s amazing condo that was probably 20 times the size of this place. “Yeah, it’s not much, but it’s close to work.”

  “No, I didn’t mean it that way.” Brandon smiled. “I meant, I like it, it feels like you.” He looked at me warmly.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Well, it’s homey and filled with signs of love,” he said as he walked the few steps towards my bookshelf and looked at the photos of me with my mom and friends. “It’s a reflection of who you are,” he said as he looked up at me. “You don’t seem to know it, but you have a way of making people feel comfortable around you and you give people a lot of love.” He smiled at me in a way that took my breath away.

  “Thanks.” I was touched by his words and filled with a wave of emotions to hear the way he thought of me.

  “Is this your mom?” Brandon asked.

  “Yeah,” I said as I saw the picture of my mom and me at my graduation commencement ceremony. I smiled at the memory of that day. Besides my move-in day freshman year, that was the only time my mom visited me on campus. She lived in Sacramento, which was a six to seven hour drive to Los Angeles, and she could not afford to take off that much time from work. I loved my mom and wished she could have visited more often so we could spend more time together. But I knew she had a lot of debt from the all the years of raising me as a single mom. So when she visited L.A. for my graduation, it meant a lot to me that she was there, and that picture reminded me of everything she has done for me in my life.

  “I don’t see any pictures of your dad.” Brandon’s comment pulled me from my thoughts and a wave of sadness hit me. He looked over at me and saw the pain in my eyes and immediately said, “I’m sorry, Emma. I didn’t mean to …”

  “It’s okay. You’re right, there isn’t a picture of my father.” I paused. “I actually don’t know what he looks like. He was never a part of my life.” I looked away from Brandon as tears filled my eyes. I walked over to the stove to remove the chicken out of the oven where it had been warming.

  “I’m sorry, Emma,” came Brandon’s voice from behind me and I felt him gently put his arms around me from behind. I turned around to face him and I saw the concern in his warm, brown eyes. “I didn’t mean to … do you want to talk about?”

  “It’s okay, but I don’t really want to talk about it right now. Is that okay?” I was not ready to talk about the father that was never a part of my life. A man who I had hated for so long.

  “Of course,” he said softly as he leaned down and kissed my forehead. He pulled away and smiled at me—a smile that had a way of melting away my sadness. “Only happy thoughts tonight, okay?”

  “Deal.” I smiled, grateful that he hadn’t pushed me to tell him more about my father. I wasn’t ready to go through that emotional roller coaster. Not tonight.

  “Wow, I’m excited about this curry butter chicken thing. It smells amazing,” he said excitedly. “I think I’ve had it once at a restaurant, though I’m not sure it looked like that,” he said as he suspiciously eyed the dish.

  I frowned. “Oh? You have?” This was a simple home-style chicken recipe. I wouldn’t expect to see it served in a restaurant. “Did you like it?”

  “Yeah, it was pretty good. I’m impressed you know how to cook Indian food.”

  I looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean? How do you know I can cook Indian food?”

  “Because you just made it. The curry butter chicken.”

  I started laughing when I realized what Brandon must have meant. Brandon looked at me in confusion. “What did I say?”

  “I think you thought I was making butter chicken, which is an Indian dish. But I made a baked chicken with a mixture of honey, butter, and curry powder. It’s not an Indian dish at all,” I said between giggles.

  “Oh.” Brandon began to laugh too. “That makes more sense.”

  “How so?”

  “Well I was wondering why you’d make an Indian dish and grilled asparagus in the same meal.”

  We both laughed.

  “That’s what you get for doubting me,” I teased.

  “I guess you learn something new every day,” he said teasingly as he pulled me into his hard, warm chest and kissed me. “Now let’s eat.”

  ***

  After a delicious meal, Brandon suggested watching a movie. I ended up picking some random action flick on Netflix, something I thought we could both enjoy. After a few minutes into the movie, Brandon got up to use the restroom.

  “Do you want me to pause the film?” I asked.

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll be back in a bit.” He leaned over the couch to kiss me. “Don’t miss me too much,” he teased.

  I rolled my eyes and giggled.

  When 10 minutes had passed and Brandon still hadn’t returned from the restroom, I was starting to wonder if he was okay. I couldn’t really hear anything from the bathroom over the noise of the TV, but I thought I heard the water running. Maybe he’s making a call, I thought. Maybe he’s calling Desiree, a tiny voice whispered insid
e my head. “No,” I heard myself say out loud. “Stop jumping to conclusion again, Emma.” I shook my head, as if I could shake off that jealous thought.

  “Sorry to interrupt.” I jumped at the sound of Brandon’s voice.

  “Oh. Sorry.” God, he must have heard me talking to myself. I felt my face grow hot as I looked over at him. “How much did you hear?” I asked sheepishly.

  “Nothing at all,” Brandon said with a smirk. I cringed with embarrassment.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

  Brandon raised his eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “You were just, um, just in the bathroom for a while,” I replied hesitantly.

  Brandon laughed. “Right. Well, I had some business to take care of.”

  “Gross,” I said, making a face of disgust as I laughed.

  Brandon shrugged and laughed. “Come over here. I need to show you something.”

  I looked at him and felt uneasy. “What did you do?” I asked tentatively. Oh God, did he clog my toilet? I thought. I am not ready for that type of intimacy. In fact, I never want to be ready for that sort of intimacy.

  “Just come over here already,” he said with a playful air of impatience. “Or else, I’ll have to make you come over here.” There was something raw and forceful in his voice that instantly turned me on.

  “And what if I want you to make me come to you,” I flirted back as I slowly got up from the couch. Our eyes locked on to one another and I instantly knew he was turned on too.

  When I got close enough, he grabbed my waist and pulled me urgently towards him and whispered hotly into my ear, “I would have had a lot of fun making you come … to me.”

  I gasped at his bold suggestive statement; his hot breathe in my ear stirred a familiar desire in the pit of my stomach. I was beyond turned on. Without a second thought, I grabbed his gorgeous face with both hands and pulled him down towards me. I was desperate for his lips on mine—I yearned to taste him and for him to taste me. When his mouth enveloped mine, I felt an electric current pulse between our connection. My lips moved against his eagerly, and with every growing second, they were hungry for more of him. His tongue parted me and I eagerly took him in. As our kiss deepen, I felt the hardness grow in his jeans as his hands brushed through my hair and explored my back.

  “I want you now,” I said in a ragged whisper as I tried to pull him toward my bed on the opposite end of the room.

  Brandon resisted my movement towards the bed and gently pulled away from me. “God, you have no idea how much I want you, Emma, but—”

  “Actually, I do,” I purred, interrupting him and rubbed my hand against the ever-growing bulge that pressed against his jeans on the other side.

  Brandon groaned, “Don’t tempt me, Emma, or I won’t be able to hold back any longer if you do.”

  I was about to protest, but he held his hand to my lips. “I want to show you something first.” He gestured to the closed bathroom door, and it wasn’t until then that I remember why I got up from the couch in the first place.

  “Ok, what is it?” I asked uncertainly. I thought about what he must have been doing in the bathroom just minutes ago and I grimaced.

  “Open the door and you’ll find out,” he prompted as he stood behind me facing the door. I looked back at him with confusion and he chuckled. I turned to the door to open it, and was prepared to hold my breath to avoid smelling anything. But instead, I gasped. Two dozen candles of various sizes were lit around my bathroom, their reflection danced against the white, porcelain-tile walls surrounding the clawfoot bathtub. The bathtub was filled to the brim with rich layers of bubbles. The air was steamy and an inviting aroma of lavender oil greeted my nose.

  I turned around to look at him, “You did all this?”

  He nodded and smiled. He walked over to a small portable radio on the sink and turned it on. Soft jazz music began to play seductively as he turned to me and gave me a breath-taking smile. “I wanted to do something special for you to help you relax.”

  I felt my body melt at the pleasant surprise. “Wow, you’re too good to be true.”

  “I will take that as a compliment,” he teased.

  I laughed and then paused. “But where did all this come from?” I asked. “I don’t remember you bringing any of this stuff with you tonight.”

  Brandon chuckled, “That’s because I was stealthy.”

  I laughed. “No really, how did you sneak this all in?”

  “You were just too distracted by my charm, good looks, and body. I could seriously get anything by you,” he continued to tease.

  I hit his arm playfully. “Tell me,” I demanded.

  “Ouch, don’t hurt me,” Brandon faked a grimace and then gave an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, if you really must know, you were busy with the flowers when I arrived, so you didn’t see me holding a bag, and when you went to the kitchen to get a vase, I put the bag in the bathtub.”

  I made a feigned expression of hurt on my face, “So you’re telling me the flowers were a decoy?”

  “Hey, don’t say it like that. They came from the heart,” Brandon said between fits of laughter as he pressed one hand against his chest. “But,” dragging out the word, “I do have to admit, they were convenient.”

  I laughed and shook my head as I rolled my eyes. I then looked at the inviting bathtub and smiled. “This is so sweet of you.”

  “I try.” He pulled me into his embrace and gently kissed my forehead.

  Then, I realized something and I started to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked as he gave me a curious look of amusement.

  “Well, I have to admit that earlier, when you were in here for such a long time, I was wondering what you must have been doing in here.” Then I laughed again and gave him a teasing frown, “I was feeling a little uncomfortable that you had quickly gotten that comfortable with me.”

  Brandon laughed when he realized what I was implying. “But isn’t being comfortable with one another a good thing?” he cajoled as he playfully pulled me towards him again for a hug.

  “Well, there’s comfortable, and then there’s too comfortable.” I laughed.

  “Touché. Look at you, always thinking the worst of me.”

  I stopped laughing and looked up at him, “I’m sorry, Brandon.”

  “Emma, I was just teasing.”

  “I know that. What I meant was—”

  “Emma, you don’t need to explain,” he said, interrupting my attempt at an apology. “I just want you to enjoy this bubble bath before the water gets cold. Don’t let all my hard work go to waste,” he teased.

  “Aren’t you going to join me?” I asked, hoping he would say yes. Before he could respond, I gave him a devious smile and started pulling off his t-shirt over his head. I wasn’t about to let him say no.

  He chuckled when I started unbuttoning his jeans. “Well, this was really just supposed to be for you, and for you to relax.” He then gave an exaggerated huff and said in a serious tone, “But I guess sacrifices must be made in the call of duty.” He pushed down his jeans and kicked them to the side.

  I giggled, “Life must be so hard for you, Mr. Fisher.” I slowly ran my fingers first down his hard, smooth pecks, then down his ripped six-pack abs, and then slowly back up and across his broad muscular shoulders.

  “I know,” he said in a slow and ragged voice. “It’s not every day you’re forced to get in a bathtub with the naked hot girl of your dreams.” He pulled me towards his half-naked body and I felt his hard erection against my thigh, which ignited a growing need at the pit of my stomach.

  “Who said I was going to be naked?” I laughed.

  “I did,” Brandon said as he pulled my shirt off me. Then his lips and tongue gently traced an invisible line across my bared neck and shoulders as he slowly pulled down my bra straps. A second later, I felt my bra fall to the ground and I inhaled sharply as his wet lips found their way to one of my breast as his
hand kneaded the other. My body arched against his touch as my hands grabbed tightly onto his rich, brown hair, urging for him lower to explore more of me.

  Brandon looked up at me, his eyes glinting with sparks of desire. “Let’s slow it down.” His voice was ragged and I knew he didn’t mean it.

  As if confirming my thoughts, he unzipped my jeans and pulled them down my legs. His face lingered in front of my panties as he breathed me in. “The things I could do to you, Emma.” I could hear the need and restraint in his voice, and I felt all my blood rushing down between my legs, towards the exact spot that was currently inches away from his lips. I moaned as I felt his hot breath on my inner thigh. He slowly pulled down my panties and looked up at me, his smoldering, brown eyes were wild with hot intensity.

  “I need you now,” I begged as I backed up against the wall and spread my legs wider, desperate for a part of him to be inside of me. He gently ran his fingertips up the inner parts of my leg towards my pleasure spot, sending a shiver down my spine. I felt two of his rough, skilled fingers enter me and I cried out in pleasure.

  “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned. He moved his fingers in and out of me with increasing momentum as his tongue explored and tasted me. My body convulsed as the ripples of pleasure built inside me. “God, Brandon. I’m about to come,” I moaned.

  “Yes, come for me, baby,” he growled as he watched my body quiver with pleasure.

  “But … but I want you inside me. I want you to come with me.” My voice was shaky and I gasped each time his fingers entered me, each time a little deeper and more forceful than the last.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll have time for that.” I met his wild, intense gaze as I felt my body spasm into ecstasy. “Oh. God. Brandon,” I screamed as my body tightened around his fingers as waves of bliss crashed through me. Finally, I felt my body grow limp as I held onto him.

  “I love it when you come.” Brandon grinned as he slowly removed his fingers from inside me and licked them, his eyes never leaving mine. “Now let’s get you in that bathtub before I can’t bear it anymore and take you against the bathroom wall.”

  Even in the fog of my delirious comedown from pleasure, I was turned on by his words and wanted every inch of him to be inside me—deep inside me. My breath caught as I watched his manhood spring out into view as he pulled down his boxer brief. He was very hard. He was very ready. I felt myself tighten in anticipation below. I was ready for him.