“Would you now?” He smirks and takes a seat across from me. “Well, after dinner I’ll make that happen.”
He then pours us both a glass of red wine to pair with our meal and proceeds to serve me the pasta. The flavor of the tomato sauce is out of this world.
“Lemme guess, an Aunt Taffy recipe?” I tease.
“Guilty.” He grins and then goes on to say, “She had me work with a chef so I could learn to cook. My aunt was determined to see me be successful. That extended to not only my career, but my personal life as well. Hence the cello so I could entertain women, and the cooking so I could entice them and be a family man. My aunt always thought of everything. She wanted me to be well-rounded.”
I don’t doubt she prepared him for success. Clearly she loves him, and with him explaining she didn’t have children of her own, she made sure she blessed him with the life his parents couldn’t give him. My parents are my world, so I can’t imagine what it was like for him to grow up without his.
After the meeting today, I couldn’t let him know how impressed I was with his presentation. Yet, in this small span of time, it seems like everything in me keeps shifting. The more time I spend with him, the further I’m entranced by him.
“My father was right to put you as lead on this project. I thought your presentation today was flawless, and I couldn’t have done it better myself.”
“Yes, you could’ve,” he jokes.
“True,” I giggle, “but seriously, your knowledge of the contract far exceeded my expectations, and I realize I’ve misjudged you from the start. I’ll never call you a rookie again.”
He takes a sip of his wine and then clears his throat. It seems I’ve rendered him speechless—so unlike Jamison.
“El, I don’t know what to say. That means a great deal coming from you. I know this business runs in your blood. I’m glad you’re seeing that I’m not such a bad guy after all.”
I look down at my plate, overwhelmed suddenly by all these emotions and feelings swelling in my chest and mind. “Thank you for having me over. This is…nice.”
Lame! That’s so lame to say, and I know it. It’s more than nice, but the right words are eluding me.
“I’m glad you could come over. Dessert? Or would you like me to play first?”
“Hmm, it depends on what dessert is,” I laugh.
“Well, of course it’s something chocolate. Don’t all women love chocolate?”
“We do.”
“Tell you what, I’ll grab us the chocolate soufflés, and you go make yourself comfortable in the living room, and you can eat while I play.”
“Okay,” I agree.
We begin to clear the table, and he eventually shoos me out of the kitchen, citing I’m the guest and I should try to enjoy myself. I plop down on his couch after taking off my shoes, and I tuck my legs up under me.
He walks out a few minutes later and hands me the incredible-looking confection in an ornately decorated cup. Not being able to help myself, I stick the spoon in the bowl and put it to my mouth.
“Oh my God! This is sinful,” I remark and close my eyes in complete and total bliss.
He laughs heartily, and when I open my eyes, he’s seated in the corner with the cello wedged between his knees. He picks up the bow with one hand and places his fingers on the strings with the other.
I set my cup down on the coffee table because I want my full attention to be on him. It’s not every day you get your own private concert performed by an accomplished musician. If he’s been playing since he was a boy, I can’t imagine he’s not an expert at this point.
“This piece is called ‘Gift.’ As I mentioned, my aunt’s real name is Tammy, and it’s said that gift is the meaning of her name.”
What happens next is something indescribable. When Jamison begins strumming, I’m catapulted into a dream-like state I don’t want to be woken up from. The melodic tones hit my ears. and I’m captivated by the beauty of his talent, the passion in his fingers, and the determination set in his brow to play his heart out.
The notes are doing a dance that whisper across my ears and caress me like a lover’s touch. Each pull of the bow is breathtaking. He’s stunning. He’s beautiful. He’s playing like I imagine an angel strums a harp while sitting on a cloud.
Far too quickly, the piece comes to an end, and I hadn’t realized there are tears streaming down my face. Moved beyond comprehension, I became a slave to the music.
He’s staring at me with concern etched in his face. He sets down the instrument and joins me on the couch. Jamison slowly moves his hand to my face and wipes my tears away.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he says softly, looking deeply into my eyes.
“I-I-I didn’t expect to cry. This is crazy. It seems lately, when I’m around you, I’m not myself.” I get choked up thinking about what he’s doing to me.
“Maybe you are yourself when you’re around me; did you ever think of that?” he asks gently. “You’re safe with me, Elodie. Whatever happened to you in your past, I’m sorry. I can be your friend, and I’m here for you. We don’t just have to be colleagues; we can actually be friends.”
Overcome by his words and still riding the waves of emotion from the music, I do the only thing that seems to make sense in this moment.
I. Kiss. Him.
I wrap my arms around his neck and straddle his lap. A part of me can’t believe this behavior, but I push it way down into the pit of my belly to revisit it at a later point in time. Never have I wanted to be with a man like this, and it’s no wonder I’d always cursed them—no one had ever reached me on this level of emotional intellect. The connection I’m experiencing with James is deep and pure.
We’re both moaning into each other’s mouths. Our tongues are tangled. My lips are so tightly pressed against his, as if I’m starved and can’t get enough. His hands skate around my back to pull me closer so our chests touch. I’m grinding my pussy on his dick, and his hard cock is perfection between my legs.
I can barely breathe, yet it’s a good feeling—not like when I have my panic attacks.
He pushes me back gently and grabs my face so I can focus on him. “El, I didn’t ask you here for this. If we go any further, I think you’re gonna regret it in the morning, and I can’t have that.”
He rests his forehead against mine, and we’re both breathing heavily. This is the one time I’m not going to let my mind be in charge. My body is going to answer for me. Consequences be damned.
“No. Don’t ask me to think right now, Jamison. I want you. I can’t explain it. Just go with it?”
We stare into each other’s eyes, and I can see the internal battle he’s waging, but his body must win out too because he attacks me.
Tonight there are no regrets. Tonight is all we have.
10
Elodie
The anticipation is killing me now that I’ve decided to have him. All my hang-ups, all the why’s and no’s have gone out the door. The only thing that makes sense to me in this moment is him.