by Pamela Ann
Adele Someone Like You
One Republic Stop and Stare
Jason Mraz I Won’t Give Up
Snow Patrol Chasing Cars
One Republic If I Lose Myself
Bruno Mars When I Was Your Man
Boyce Avenue (ft. Megan & Liz) Last Kiss
Lupe Fiasco & Guy Sebastian Battle Scars
Kate Havnevik Grace
“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”
- Nat King Cole
Prologue
The night where it all began…
“All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name.”
- Andre Brenton
Bass
“So… a thunderstorm, huh? I don’t know how to take that.” Emma wondered out loud, writhing as my lips touched her sensitized skin.
Kissing the back of her earlobe, I murmured against it. “You simply struck me without warning.”
I started nipping on her neck as I rolled my body on top of hers, nudging the head of my cock on her slick entrance with obvious intent on taking her again.
“I want you again, Bass,” she moaned as she opened her legs to accommodate me and guided my cock inside her entrance.
“Emma,” I whispered against her ear when the head penetrated her opening. She moaned my name as I pulled back and slowly inched deeper inside her wet channel.
I had never felt this alive, electrified to be with another woman. “Don’t make me fall for you, Emma.”
“You won’t.” She sounded quite sure. Maybe I could prove her wrong. “Bass!” she cried out when I fully entered her with one rough thrust.
I started kissing the side of her soft face and her earlobe before I exposed a small part of me. “What if it’s already too late?” I whispered as my heart pounded so hard against her breasts.
She looked into my eyes, bright-eyed and speechless. My probing gaze didn’t falter as it clashed with hers. Yes, Emma, it really is too late, I thought as I took her lips and started to show her just how much I’ve wanted her, waited for her, for the longest time.
I purposely didn’t give her the chance to respond because I wanted those words to remain in her thoughts. I wanted her aware, that’s the direction we were heading.
It was inevitable.
We were destined to the undeniable. The unavoidable.
A normal pessimist would tell you that love does not happen overnight, that it takes time to develop. That one needed to get to know the person first before falling in love with them. Why? Because they haven’t experienced what love truly was. It strikes without giving you notice. It doesn’t give you ‘time’ to process the emotion. One doesn’t need ‘time’ to ponder it through because it won’t give you that privilege. It could be cruel. It could be tragic. It’s a black magic trickery of a kind that’s unexplainable because, once you’re struck, you are marked, enslaved, and held hostage to it, forever.
All my life, I wondered and wondered what it was about. A wise person would have thought that you had it all figured out once it found you. No fame or fortune could’ve prepared me for the exhilaration brought by meeting Emma for the first time, though. She brought out emotions that were alien to me, but I held my stance because, when it found me, there was no other way to go about it other than to welcome my fate.
However no amount of advice, reading or knowledge could prepare me for it. For falling in love was being in a constant state of elation. It was the closest feeling to flying. It didn’t matter how high you got, though, one must eventually come down, sooner or later. The lows of being in love, sadly, were a bitter emotion. It brought out the ugliest form of demons.
You see, I was a fan of poets. It was a benefit harbored from being schooled in Switzerland at a young age. I believed poetry was the fruit of love. There was no better way to express such an emotion that was so profound and complex other than the depth of words. For years, I had always wondered how Shakespeare and Marlow, along with the other greats, were driven to write such astounding proses that were so much a part of us. They had to have experienced the beauty and the loss of it. That’s why they were remembered for producing the best works because the best ones always happen when you’re in the highest throes of passion, or, better yet, gutting the loss and experiencing the ugly side of it. Look at all the artists who wrote songs due to a broken heart, they produced gold because the emotions were heartfelt; they were raw and so very real.
I completely believed in fate, in our destiny being carved before we even existed in this world. So, I made a promise to myself that once I found the woman who could unman me, I wasn’t going to run the other way. Instead, I was going to embrace it—hold on to it—until I was out of breath.
Sadly, that belief was going to be put to test.
“People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that’s bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they’re afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it. That’s what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you’re letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.”
- Jim Morrison
Chapter 1
Present
“Someday, someone might come into your life and love you the way you’ve always wanted. If your someday was yesterday, learn. If your someday is tomorrow, hope. If your someday is today, cherish.”
- Author Unknown
Emma
The sun was barely up when I landed back in Aspasia. After eight weeks of using the deathtrap transportation, I finally got over my fear of it.
My phone was incessantly beeping when I came out of the helicopter. Automatically, I fished for it in my purse. With my fingers, I tucked a strand of blonde hair behind my ear as I checked the message.
Mom: Your phone wouldn’t take voicemails, apparently. You should get that checked, or better yet, have your dad do it. We miss you. Call us, kiddo.
I was in London all weekend with Lindsey and Trista—and with an unexpected ex to boot. My thoughts dwelled on the events that occurred this weekend when I suddenly felt strong arms wrap around my hips, lifting me off the ground. I squealed with delight, knowing whose arms those belonged to.
“Miss me?” Bass asked in that sexy bedroom voice of his as he nuzzled my neck, seeking for the soft spot where he usually made me weak in the knees.
Being with Bass was always like this. I always felt like fainting, weak and deliriously happy.
“Yes, very much,” I whispered breathlessly. I was out of breath due to the fact that I really did miss him and also because I was contemplating telling him that Carter was in London. “How was Paris?” He, along with Dimitris Kosta and Taylor Montgomery, were partying all weekend. With women, I was sure of that.
The gorgeous man spun me around, granting me a view of his handsome self. His striking eyes probed into my soul, reaching in, pulling on my heartstrings. “Paris was lonely without you. I was tempted to come see you, but I knew you girls wanted to spend some time together. So, as much as I wanted to, I stayed on the other side of the English Channel.”
Bass was truly great—no, make that phenomenal—with melting me inside out. Here I was, lacking sleep, and still he managed to wake me up with mere words. I wanted to ask about women in Paris, but I was hesitant. Why? Maybe because Bass and I hadn’t really discussed our relationship, or that we never brought it up after that first time we agreed with this sexual arrangement. Every time I thought about it, I got antsy and so I tried to ignore the subject.
Because whatever this was between us, I wanted it.
Wrapping my arms around his ne
ck, I lavished the feeling of his body against mine. It seemed that my emotions connected with his because, when he finally kissed me, I was transported into another world where no one existed except this very man. This was where I wanted to be. In his arms I felt safe, cherished, and treasured, but most of all, he never took me for granted.
Bass was the first one to pull away, smiling as he planted a few more chaste kisses on my lips. “You look sleepy. Partied that hard, huh?”
If he only knew, I thought with guilt.
He kissed my forehead before escorting me towards our ride. “Good thing you’re not filming today because, by the looks of it, you’ll be sleeping the day away.”
Hear, hear. I yawned before responding to him. “That’s the plan.”
After the quick ride from the airstrip to the cottage, I was ready to pass out. I was dizzy from no sleep last night, plus I had barely gotten any the night before.
“How was London? You had loads of fun?” he asked as he opened the door and entered our cottage with my things in hand.
How was London? Tricky question there, really. Well, it was a nightmare. One I did not see coming, but I wasn’t going to tell him about it at this instant. Maybe later, when the time was right. “It was not what I expected, but it was fun nonetheless.” It really was, for the most part. The other, where Carter was in the equation, was trivial to say the least.
I was adamant to give back all the things he had given me—most especially that token of utter mind-fuck, his great-great-grandmother’s ring. Hell, he didn’t want any of it anyway. So, I had to drag most of that crap with me, hidden of course. Being this secretive made me feel edgy, but it was hard to open the toxic can of worms with Bass.
This unprecedented situation wouldn’t have been such a major deal if that interview we did a couple of weeks back didn’t plant a seed of doubt in Bass’s mind. Imagine my horror when they pulled out old pictures of Carter and me together. It shouldn’t have mattered since Carter and I were through. Maybe not a lot of people know about it, but certainly everyone that I loved knew about it. More importantly, Bass knew it. However, those old, blasted pictures sprouted old doubts from Bass and I wasn’t about to bring it back to the surface after the weekend I had.
We entered my bedroom where he gradually placed my things on the opposite side of the room. I watched in fascination as he moved about before joining me on the bed. “The girls left okay?” he asked while those magnetic eyes roved over my face, lingering.
My cheeks burned from the intensity of his gaze. I had to lick my lips before responding to him. “They did. I just hope that Trista will make the right choice.” I was worried about her. Apart from the mess with Harry, her other baby revelation, simply broke my heart. I was protective of her and I didn’t want her to hurt. If Harry was the one who made her happy, though, then I will—though reluctantly—support her on that. I may not agree to most of her decisions, but I was her friend and friends don’t judge each other. They listen and hold you when you’re falling apart. They tell you that everything is going to be okay, even if it isn’t. They’re there to make you feel better, through thick and thin. That’s what true friendship is and that’s what I had with those women.
Sighing, I folded my legs and placed my head on his shoulder, the tip of my nose caressing his soft skin. “How’s Taylor, babe? Is he okay? I know he wasn’t when he left, so I’m curious to know how he’s holding up.”
“Hanging in there, but enough about them, I want to focus on you,” he whispered before sensually kissing me. One kiss was all it took to cease any thoughts. I let out a soft moan as my hands grabbed onto his shirt, pulling him closer. Our little display of affection earlier aroused me to distraction. Right now, I was sure I’d combust if he didn’t soothe my burning body.
“Emma,” Bass whispered with such fevered passion that I almost came. He kissed me deeply as he lowered me onto the bed and my legs instantly parted to accommodate his hard body. This particular position made me love being a woman. There was nothing more amazing than the feel of a man—a well-honed body—atop yours. Dominating, yet passionate, as he set the pace; a man in control, a man who could make a woman feel like she’s the very reason he’s alive, a man who captured you by a simple look alone.
His hands desperately caressed everywhere; hungry, seeking over my clothed form. Jesus, I was losing it. A hungry moan came from him as he pushed himself harder against my mound. The friction was heavenly and I wanted more. My hands slid inside his shirt, stroking his arched back before I sought his nipples, scratching them fiercely.
“Fuck!” he howled with pleasured pain. It was one of the things I noticed that he liked—scratching. “I’m late, but I don’t want to stop kissing you. Stop casting this damn spell on me woman.”
Martin wasn’t going to throw a hissy fit if his godson showed up five minutes late. “No, stay—”
“Tonight. We’ll finish this tonight.” He was slowly unclasping my legs that were clutched around his hips, while his head moved downwards, nipping the valley of my breasts. Such a contradiction. “There’s a party tonight at one of the taverns. It’s Jack’s birthday, apparently.”
Jack, Martin’s assistant. Right. I forgot about that. “What do I get him for his birthday?”
“You need not worry about that. I’ll take care of it. He’s taking donations, as he put it, for his home savings fund.”
Hollywood and their bright ideas. Pretty amazing thing, I guess. “That’s an awesome solution. That’s ingenious.”
His face was close to mine, smiling down at me. “Do get some sleep, my love. You need all your energy for tonight. You might find me insatiable. So be warned.” He kissed me one more time before immediately departing my bedroom and the cottage.
He called me my love, a first from him. I was rolling from side-to-side, bunching the pillow in my arms, hysterically happy. After Carter, I vowed to be cautious about relationships, but being with Bass made me irrational and threw caution to the wind. It was worth it. Feeling this kind of high was addictive. And I was a willing addict.
E
That night, we dined in the tavern before we joined the rest of the crew who had a bonfire party going on.
Bass and I separated from each other and mingled around. Everyone knew that something was going on between us, but nothing had been confirmed. When we were around other people, apart from our friends, we were professional and didn’t do much PDA. However, I always caught Bass glancing my way or giving me a secretive smile. The man truly was the master of melting me to the core.
I was talking to Mo, another actor from the set, when I saw a few women gathered around Bass, capturing him in a circle. The big smiles, the damn annoying giggles and the fluttering lashes were now in place. “You weren’t listening, Emma.” Mo sighed as his gaze followed mine and he kept silent for a minute. “A lot of actors get jealous of him, you know? I’m one of them. We’re good, I like Bass and all, but I can’t help being jealous of his success. At times like right now, though, I feel bad for the dude. He knows you’re watching, but he’s also letting you know that he’s being friendly without telling you directly. Watch as his hands are stuck inside his pockets, his smiles don’t reach his eyes; signs like that you need to see. He’s yours, Emma. You don’t have to worry about that.”
Was Bass really mine? I wanted him to be mine, all mine and that’s fact. “Thank you, Mo. I appreciate how blunt you are. I’m letting myself get used to it.”
“You guys will be fine. You think too much. We should get you some more ouzo.”
Oh, darn. “Why the heck not?” I responded as Dimitris strolled towards us.
Three hours later, I knew I was beyond my usual limit when everything started to double before me. “Dude, I’m seeing two of you.” I started to giggle when Dimitris’s frown looked like it was from a horror house. “Why so serious?” I did my best Joker impersonation before another giggle-fit took over and I was in tears with my butt on the sand.
�
�YUP! I like Emma drunk.” Mo saluted his Corona bottle at me before emptying it and taking hold of another one.
“If Trista and Lindsey were here, this party would’ve been much livelier.” Damn, I missed those crazies. Looking at Dimitris again, I started to worry. He usually was fun, but now he was just plain depressing. It was odd how Dimitris showed the tiniest interest in me before, but the moment he found out that Bass was after me, he backed away. Bass respected him after that. We got on fine then, but when he started hanging out with us more and dated Lindsey, I considered him a great friend.
“Come on, Greek McHottie! What’s wrong with you tonight?”
His handsome face contorted with confusion. “Greek McHottie? Like McDonalds?”
So cute. I loved how we never got each other’s jokes. “The girls called you that. Well, all the hot men were McHotties.”
Bass strode over to us, shaking his head, amused at my inebriated state. “I think it’s time to bring my woman home. Can you walk or do you want me to carry you?” He was smiling down at me and I looked at him beneath my lashes as it roved over his hot body.
The simple white shirt looked deadly on him. It showcased his broad shoulders and those ripped arms. He was a hot, walking orgasm. “Bass, do you know how sexy you are?”
He barked out a laugh before returning his happy gaze to me. “I do now.” He held out his hand to pull me up with a tight grip. “Turn around really quick. Your butt is covered in sand.” Bass gently tapped it away while I laughed at his light spankings.
“You can do better than that!”
“Really, we don’t need all the details. We’ll see you lovers tomorrow.” Dimitris waved goodbye before Bass and I started to walk home along the shore.
