by Fifi Flowers
“You mentioned earlier that your parents live upstate. Did you grow up there?” I asked as I dipped a warm piece of pita bread into the humus and popped it in my mouth.
“No. When I was a freshman in high school, my parents decided to leave the city. As soon as I graduated high school, I came back to the city to attend college and never left, except for traveling for modeling assignments.”
“Did you always want to be a model? Did you major in modeling sciences?” I giggled.
Chuckling he told me, “Definitely not. I was studying advertising and marketing. During my last year of college, I was in Florida for spring break. A modeling agency held a contest on the beach, and they asked me to enter. After a lot of prodding from my buddies, I entered and won. I started working on ad campaigns that summer and I’ve been busy ever since.”
“What, no wild parties? Drunken brawls? High school sweetheart? That all sounds too calm for you. Or did you get the bad boy reputation when you started modeling?
He laughed. “I had some fun in high school and college; no real steady girlfriends, all-boy high school and I played sports. In college, I liked a lot of girls and did my fair share of partying.” Flashing me one of his winning smiles, he made my heart hum. “What about you? Upstate all your life? Siblings? High school sweetheart? Wild parties in college? Tell me all your dirt.” I loved that wink he gave me.
“Only child. Upstate all my life until I left for college to study art. I was very focused in school, not really interested in the boyfriend thing. I was a bit shy, but in college I blossomed.” I giggled as I rephrased, “Or I should say a Lily entered my life. She brought me to life and got me into trouble. Not big trouble, but she did drag me to parties and introduced me to wild boys. Never anyone serious. Lily said there was no time for just one.”
“Hmmm. I’m not sure I like hearing about your sleeping around,” he commented with a furrowed brow, and I laughed.
“Really? Well, I’ve never made it into to the tabloids with my love life.” I gave him a sideways glance with a smirk on my face.
“They do make it seem like I’ve been very involved. Don’t believe everything you read. Besides, we’re talking about you now. I think you’ve shocked me that you didn’t have the high school or college sweetheart. You seem the relationship type.”
“I never had a serious relationship until after my parents died. When I started working at McDimel-Sanders about five years ago I met a junior advertising executive. We started dating, and within a short time he was asking me to marry him. I was so lonely, I thought why not marry him even though I wasn't in love with him. Lucky for me, I overheard him talking to a co-worker; telling him how he couldn't wait until we were married so he could join a golf club and quit working. He had heard I had inherited a large sum of money and thought he hit the lottery. Unlucky or lucky for him, I was standing with Sam McDimel at the time, and he was later offered a position in another office. It all ended very badly. Since that dating experience, I’ve given up on romance.”
“What about now? Us? Our romance?”
I tilted my head, leaning my chin on my fist, looking at him; biting the tip of my thumb contemplating his question and how to answer. Do I tell him the truth? Do I make a joke? What do I think about us? I think I need to guard my heart, prepare for the worst, and enjoy whatever time I have with him. I decided to settle for a light answer. “I think it’s been delicious so far. And speaking of delicious, I’m dying for dessert, preferably something French.”
“Nice way to avoid the question.” He smirked at me.
After a delectable lunch, sharing bits of our lives, we visited a little patisserie owned by Evan’s friends for dessert and coffee. Once we finished our sweet treat we headed back to my apartment. Stopping first at the reception desk, we picked up Evan's bag and then headed up. In the elevator, Evan pulled me into his arms. “Melissa, do you trust me? I really need you to trust.”
I looked up into his very serious face. “Yes, I trust you.” I did trust him. I barely knew him, but I did trust him.
Arriving at my door, Evan took my keys and unlocked the door. Before I could walk in, he cupped my face and kissed me deeply, making me moan. There was nothing better than kissing him. I could do it forever!
“Hold on to me, bébé and keep your eyes closed until I say you can open them.” I did as he instructed and let him guide me inside. Why is he doing this? Did he do something that I didn't notice before we left?
Evan walked straight ahead leading me into the living room. “Melissa, I want to make you happy. I hope you realize this is for you, not to make you sad but to make you happy. I want you to have new memories, a fresh start with me.”
Suddenly my breathing became irregular. My chest tightened. What has he done?
He kissed me again, holding me tightly in his arms before he turned me around keeping my back to his chest. “Open your eyes, bébé.”
When I opened my eyes, my breath caught in my throat.
“Breathe, bébé” he murmured softly in my ear.
I gasped as I looked at the most spectacularly decorated Christmas tree that had suddenly appeared in my living room.
A few tears slid down my cheeks. “Oh Evan. C'est magnifique!”
In front of the left window stood a ten-foot Noble Fir tree with twinkling white lights. Red plaid ribbon floated around the tree from top to bottom. Atop the tree was a sparkly, ornately cut out gold star. Red, gold, and cream glass balls were sprinkled throughout the tree. Gold angels, musical notes and fleur-de-lis ornaments hung playfully from various branches.
It smelled wonderful. I leaned in and inhaled deeply and wondered, “How did you do this?”
“Your apartment staff was extremely helpful. I called and explained to them what I wanted to do, and they were excited to help. Then I called the store that had the tree you loved so much. I spoke to the manager and he got one of their window designers to come over and decorate your apartment.”
I turned around to take it all in. There were poinsettias in the entry and on the dining table. It looked like Christmas had been delivered to my apartment.
“All the phone calls you were making, those were to do this for me?”
“Yes, bébé. All for you.”
I threw my arms around his neck, bringing his lips to mine and kissed him with full force.
“So I'm not in trouble? I did okay?” He asked holding me tightly in his arms gazing lovingly into my eyes.
“It makes me a little sad because it brings back memories, but everything is new. I'm amazed that you would do something like this for me. Merci beaucoup, monsieur”
“I love making you happy. Let’s make a fire, open a bottle of red wine, put on some music, snuggle up and enjoy the tree,” Evan said as he nuzzled the side of my neck.
“Mmmm, count me in.”
Then he slapped me on the ass. “Let's get comfortable first.” Picking me up along with his overnight bag, he walked into my bedroom.
“You know I can walk.”
“I like carrying you, bébé. I can walk and kiss you at the same time," he said pressing his lips to mine, and I loved it!
Briefly, we got sidetracked while attempting to change into more comfortable clothing. It was hard to resist this man. Eventually, we headed for the kitchen. I was excited to spend another evening with Evan. I loved the idea of cooking and relaxing with him. Entering the kitchen, I saw bags on the counter.
“What is all this?”
“I had some items delivered to make dinner for you.” He kissed my forehead. “I hope that’s okay with you?”
“You cook more than breakfast? I’m impressed.”
“I live alone. I better know how to cook more than breakfast. A person can only eat so much take-away. My mom is a good cook. She taught me the basics. Besides, I already told you that I have a friend that is a chef. He has given me some good recipes and cooking lessons over the years.” Evan wasn’t kidding when he said he knew how to cook. Late
r in the evening he prepared a delicious fish dish and paired it with a delightful white wine. It was nice to eat in the dining room complete with candlelight. Quite romantique!
“You never told me what you would do to the dining room.” He stated in a questioning manner.
“I love the lighting. I actually picked it out along with the dishes in the cabinet. Actually, all of the dishes were my choice.”
“That all makes sense. They look like you.”
“I don't like this table. I'd prefer a round table and chairs with an interesting pattern. This is all too traditional and stuffy. My mom's interior designer picked it out, I think, with my parents in mind. She had good intentions, but it's not for me.”
Clearing the dishes, Evan disappeared into the kitchen. Returning with some kind of chocolate dessert, a bottle of red wine, two glasses and one fork. I could see that I was going to be fed. He was so in charge and yet, I loved it. “Let’s sit in the living room and enjoy your new Christmas tree.”
“Thank you again. The tree is beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful Melissa.” He slipped a piece of chocolate into my mouth, but before I could swallow it, his tongue invaded my mouth. He moaned, and I melt like the delicious sweet treat. I loved being wrapped up in his embrace. I felt safe. Happy thoughts rushed into my head. “What are you thinking about, bébé?”
“Nothing. Just admiring the tree.”
“Looks to me like you are thinking about something that makes you happy.” I nodded my head, yes. “I’m not going to ask you to share, don’t worry. I’ll tell you what I’m thinking about. When I was little, my parents took me shopping for our Christmas tree. I was so excited. It is my first memory of getting a tree. On our way, we stopped to see Santa Claus, and I said ‘no, I don’t want to talk to him, I want to get a tree.’ My parents told me don’t be afraid of him. I wasn’t afraid of him; I just really wanted a tree. Anyway, they pushed me into the queue and when I finally reached him, I climbed up onto his lap. He asked me what I wanted for Christmas, was I good boy all year. My only answer was ‘I want a Christmas tree.’ He asked anything else, and I said no, that’s it. He laughed as I slipped off his lap and wandered back to my parents. They asked what I asked Santa for, and I told them I just want a Christmas tree. My parents love to tell that story to this day.” Evan laughed.
He made me smile. “Now I know why you are adamant about me having a tree. Merci beaucoup. This has been a parfait evening. The only thing missing is music.”
“Hey bébé, I've been meaning to ask you. Do you play piano?”
“No.”
“Did your parents play piano? Was it theirs?”
“No. I bought it. I always wanted a piano. And no, I don't plan to take lessons.” Laughing, “It's just for looks.”
Without saying a word, Evan grabbed my hand and walked me to the piano, pulled out the bench and sat down. Patting the bench he implored me, “Sit next to me, bébé.”
Music filled the room. My mouth fell open in amazement. “You play beautifully,” I said as I was thinking, is there anything he can't do? This man of many secret talents: I wanted to spend a lifetime learning something new about him every day. I was surprised by the variety of music he could play; classical, old standards, popular tunes and even some Christmas songs that we sang together. As we are laughing and having a great time, he turned to at me with a sly grin on his face and started playing music that sounded perfect for a striptease.
“Give me a show, bébé,” he purred.
For anyone else, I would have been embarrassed. But not with him. I gave him what he asked for as I let my inhibitions float away. Climbing off the bench, I stood just out of his reach so he could see me as he played. With my eyes partially closed, I started my sexy private dance for him. I began to slowly roll my hips as my hands moved over my breasts then down my sides and between my legs. I paused for a moment, touching myself then pulled my cami up over my head revealing my hardened nipples pressing against my pale pink bra. I heard Evan make an unmistakable groan of desire that built in the back of his throat before escaping his lips, “You’re killing me, bébé.”
I slowly slipped off my French terry boyfriend pants. Stepping out of them, I kicked them in his direction, and he laughed. Spinning around, wiggling my bottom, I reached behind and unclasped my bra and twirled it in the air, then tossing it in his direction. An audible moan escaped his lips. Swaying from side to side with my hands over my breast, he continued to play the piano watching me with a wicked look on his face.
Once I started sliding my panties to the floor, Evan abruptly stopped and lunged for me. In one quick move, he scooped me up and carried me to the sofa.
I laughed as he threw me down, “You know maybe I should learn to play the piano and you can do a striptease for moi!”
“Oh bébé, you don’t need to play the piano. I’ll give you a show anytime you want,” he whispered, pulling off his heather grey sweat pants. Pausing, he quickly disappeared down the hallway. I loved watching that hard ass walk through my house. In seconds, he returned to me. “No more mistakes, bébé,” he said softly before capturing my mouth and thrusting his hard cock deep inside me.
“Merci beaucoup, mon cher monsieur,” was all I can whisper all night long.
I WOKE UP alone in my bed and instantly thought I might as well get used to this. It's Sunday, the last day of our weekend together. I'm going to miss that gorgeous face, that amazing hard body and the best sex of my life. I think the worst part will be the emptiness. Tomorrow I will go back to it being only me within the walls of my apartment, but his ghost will remain: I will wake up to his scent in my bed, I will feel his presence in places he touched me, gave me pleasure. I will remember the sounds of Evan playing my piano. I will be reminded of the loss of my parents and now the loss of him when I look at Christmas tree. As I was on the verge of tears, I told myself to stop this train of thought and remember that today he was still mine. As I pushed those thoughts back, I tossed back the covers, stood and stretched. Not wanting to waste a moment of our last day, I hurried into the bathroom, splashed water on my face and brushed my teeth. I threw on a black and white polka dot silk dressing gown and went in search of Evan.
As I stepped into the hallway, I heard him. He must be speaking to someone on the phone. Following his voice, I found him in the library sitting on the leather sofa wearing only drawstring pants. He was pure sexiness. He smiled up at me and with a crooked finger motioned for me to come to him.
I moved toward him as he continued his conversation, “Ok. That sounds good. If we could wrap it up this week, that would be great. I have another project scheduled for the following week, and after that I will be out of the country. Great. See you tomorrow.”
As soon as he's off the phone he pulled me onto his lap, planting an enormous kiss on my lips and all I could think was how much I will miss this. His body has awakened mine in every way.
“How did you sleep, bébé?”
“Good.” I answered short and sweet when I actually wanted to add 'with you wrapped around me how could I not sleep well?'
“I had a hard time not waking you up this morning, but since I kept you up most of the night I decided to let you rest up for today,” he said with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh?”
With a devilish laugh, he answered. “I plan to play with you all day.”
“A naked day indoors?”
“Sounds good to me.” Evan kissed me deeply while he untied my silk robe and growled as his hands roamed my naked body. I straddled him, rubbing against his length until I was so wet I was dripping on him. Abruptly, he stilled my movements and slammed all the way into me, and I whimpered, “Mon dieu.”
I felt like a wanton woman as I rode his cock. Evan was growling and moaning, and I was pretty sure he was talking dirty to me in French.
“J'aime ta chatte serrée. C'est vrai bébé garder équitation am bite. I love your tight pussy. That’s right, bébé, ride my cock.”
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“Je ne comprend pas. I don't understand.”
Evan laughed and growled. “It's dirty French for you, bébé.”
“Mmmm. J’adore monsieur,” I whispered throwing my head back, rotating my hips, grinding into him, I climaxed hard around his cock, screaming out his name. Giving me one last hard, deep thrust he released into me as I was still throbbing around him. As he stilled, I didn't want him to pull out of me. I clung to him tightly.
I wasn’t sure if I heard him right, but I was almost positive he said, “Je t'aime, cherie.” Or maybe that's what I would like to hear. That was definitely something I would say to him.
Evan…
I JUST TOLD Melissa I loved her in French. What made me say that? Was it just in the heat of the moment? Was I falling in love with her? I'd never told a woman “I love you” in English, let alone French.
“Excuse me, monsieur. Sorry to interrupt your thoughts, but are you ready for some breakfast because I need some coffee. Let me get dressed, and I'll fix us something yummy to eat.”
“You look fabulous naked, bébé.”
Wiggling against my body, she inquired with a smile, “You want me to be the naked chef?”
“Works for me,” I moaned.
Slipping off my lap, Melissa put her dressing gown back on and ran to the kitchen before I had a chance to pick her up and carry her again. “You can't get away from me, bébé.”
I will never let her go.
Melissa…
I GOT EVERYTHING out to make breakfast and started boiling water in the tea kettle to make French press coffee. I noticed Evan was looking around the kitchen. He appeared deep in thought. I licked my lips looking at him, thinking how hot he looked sitting in my kitchen.
“Bébé, I want to ask you some questions about the apartment.”
Hearing he wanted to talk about the apartment, the whisk I was using to beat the eggs slipped from my hand, sending some of the eggs over the side of the bowl. With shaking hands, I reached for a towel, thankful for the momentary distraction I had created. As the emotional walls came up in anticipation of his questions, I kept my eyes and my mind focused on cleaning.
