I may have barely had a taste of what’s to come for the next four days, but I already know it’ll be damn near impossible to end the physical aspect of our relationship. But I’ll think about it when it happens. Between now and then there’s a lot of fucking to be done.
Sliding one of my hands from her hip, I lick my thumb and press it to her clit. Finding it swollen and needy for my touch, I rub circles on the bundle of nerves. Juliet moans her approval as she continues riding my cock, her hips rippling like waves on the sea.
“I’m close,” she whispers, and I move my thumb faster. Her head drops back and her mouth parts as she unravels. Legs trembling and body shivering, I watch her orgasm travel through her with a series of tremors. When her pussy clenches my cock with every pulse of her release, my own orgasm can’t be held back any longer. Exploding inside her with a hoarse shout, my orgasm feels like it’s never going to stop. When it finally does, I close my eyes and go limp, stretched out on the bed.
“Are you alive?” Juliet asks, walking her fingers up my stomach to my chest.
“Not sure. Think I may have died and gone to Heaven.”
She laughs. “As amazing as that was, it’s only the beginning of what we’re going to do.”
“I look forward to finding out what surprises you have in store for me. All I ask is that you feed me periodically so I can keep my strength up.”
It’s funny how four days during the school year can seem endless and yet, my time with Juliet was over in the blink of an eye.
“I wish we had another day and night,” I tell her.
“I know. Me too. But the extra time would only make it harder for us. We need to think of this like ripping off a bandage and do it in one strong yank.”
“Okay.” I lean forward and press my lips to hers for a final kiss. I keep it brief and as chaste as possible, even though it’s a struggle to do so. Cupping her cheek in my palm, I stare at her striking features, memorizing them. “I’m glad you chose to buy this house, Juliet. You’ve made my summer way more interesting than it was shaping up to be.” I know I’m not leaving for school yet, but I’m not going to spend much time with her before I do. Not if I can help it, anyway. Especially now that I know what I’ll be missing out on. I’d only be torturing myself.
“Thank you for being my second-first lover.” She smiles. “I wouldn't have wanted it to be anyone else. Everything was perfect.”
“It was,” I agree. “I’ll see you around, Mrs. Thatcher.” I wink.
“See you around.”
“Call when you get there so we don’t worry,” my mom calls out as I back out of our driveway.
“I will. Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad.”
My mom blows me a kiss and my dad yells, “Safe travels, son.”
I drive off with a final wave and glance at Juliet’s house as I pass by. She’s not home. She hasn’t been for three weeks.
“You haven’t seen her at all?” Liz asks. She’s along to keep me company for the almost twelve-hour drive that’ll take us to Ohio State University. She’ll fly home in two days and start school at a university in Maine.
“Nope. We haven’t spoken since we said goodbye on our final morning together. She’s been out of town.” I only know this because one of the neighbors told my mom. I guess they’re finally warming up to her if she shared her plans with them.
“I’m sorry. That sucks,” Liz offers, trying to console me.
“It is what it is, right? I think we handled it the best way possible. We didn’t drag it out and get all emotional.”
“How are you feeling about everything? Answer honestly. Don’t sugar coat things for me.”
I shrug. “Juliet is amazing. If I was four years older and had graduated from college, it would be a different scenario.”
“Are you in love with her?” Liz questions.
“We never shared our feelings.”
“I asked if you’re in love with her, but I already know the answer.”
My grip tightens on the steering wheel. “Fuck. Yeah, I am.”
Part II
Chapter Eight
Emmett
Four years later
“Oh, honey, it’s so wonderful to have you back home.” My mother pats my cheek.
“Don’t get too used to seeing me. It’s not like I’m living at home again. Just because I’m back in Boston doesn’t mean I have an excess amount of time on my hands.”
“I never said you did. Don’t get touchy. As your mother, I have a right to be excited to have my only child back in the same state. You barely came home during college.”
I didn’t want to be reminded of Juliet.
“That’s how college is, Mom. It’s a lot of work, but it’s also the last hurrah before adulting really starts. I packed as much fun into those years as I could.” I grin.
I did whatever I had to in order to get over Juliet.
“Do you ever hear from Juliet, that nice neighbor we used to have?”
Is she a freaking mind reader or what?
“No, why would I?”
“I don’t know. You guys seemed to be friends.”
“Mom, I don’t really think helping someone with yard work or unclogging a pool hose classifies someone as a friend.”
And apparently fucking them for four days straight doesn’t either.
“She was very nice. After you left for college, I got to know her a little bit. It’s too bad she moved a few months later.”
“Yeah, I remember you telling me.”
I’ve always wondered why she moved so quickly. I hope she’s doing well. I wrote her one letter from school when I first arrived. Part of me hoped we’d find a way to remain in contact, but I didn’t hear from her for a few months. And when I did, she sent me a painting of my hand on her thigh. Done in muted tones, it was sexy and so lifelike, I could practically feel her skin beneath my palm. There was no note included and at that time, I was a few months into my plan to forget her.
Instead of appreciating the painting and the work that went into it, I was resentful. There I was doing my best to move on with my life and she sent me a reminder of the one thing I couldn’t have. I was tempted to throw it away, but when I spoke to Liz about it, she convinced me to hang on to it for the time being. I placed it in a storage bin and never looked at it again until two weeks ago when I moved into my new apartment.
With the passing of time, I have a new appreciation for the work that went into painting those parts of us so accurately. The careful brush strokes and meticulous details make it incredibly realistic. In my heart, I know she wasn’t trying to hurt me. Maybe it was her way of telling me she wasn’t over us yet either.
“Last week, I saw an ad on TV for the Metropolis Art Gallery and they mentioned Juliet’s art being on display,” Mom informs me.
“Really? Good for her.”
“I guess she’s the new big thing in the art world.”
I’m not surprised. She was always immensely talented.