Layers Crossed (14 page)

I lifted my
skirt, watching his head bop up and down, feeling the swell buzz
with each pull of his greedy mouth. I hadn’t had a man on me in
years. My head bumped back against the barn wall and I closed my
eyes giving in to the pleasing invasion of his mouth down below. He
coaxed me and tortured me with his tongue, slowly pulling my orgasm
out.

My insides
were set ablaze. The heat spread through my body, causing sweat to
bead on my forehead and my lower back. Was I still breathing, or
had all the air been sucked off Earth? Because it sure wasn’t
filling my lungs quickly enough. And on that one last succulent
pull when he completely closed his mouth around me, flicking my nub
inside it with his tongue, I lost it. The flames spread through me
like an inferno, burning my every muscle, ligament, and limb. I had
no control over what was happening to me. I wanted to cry and shout
but couldn’t. All the tension I’d held onto, all the stress was
relieved by Eric’s mouth, and I fell into his arms as soon as he
stopped.

He held me
against his chest, sliding down against the wooden side of the
barn, and held me in his arms, smoothing my hair back.

“Are you all
right?” he whispered.

“Yes,” I
breathed out, as the world slowly began making its way back to me.
What seemed like hours of fondling must had taken only minutes, as
the sun hadn’t moved much up in the sky.

“I wanted to
hear you scream,” he smirked.

I looked up to
his face, my juices glistening on his chin. “Here? Where your
parents could have heard me?”

“No one would
have heard you, Em. Promise me you’ll let go and scream the next
time I take you.”

Next time?
When would that be?
My cheeks heated, thinking about his
request.

“Promise
me?”

“All right, I
promise.” My hands flew up to my face, covering it.

“Why are you
so shy, baby?”

“I don’t know.
It’s just been so long since…”

“Really?”

“Yeah,
really.”

“Was he
special?”

“Very. I’ve
been locked away for two long years, never even giving a thought to
any man who could do what you just did. I couldn’t. Not until you…”
I felt a sniffle break through.

“Shh.” He
smoothed his hand over my head, kissing it. “It makes me happy you
gave yourself to me. It means a lot.”

“Don’t women
throw themselves at you?”

“I’d lie if I
said they don’t, but believe me, Em, none of them are worthy. None
of them are you.”

I pressed
myself harder to him, savoring each beat of his heart.

“Tell me about
him,” he asked. “The man who held your heart that’s not in your
life.”

I let out a
long breath. I hadn’t repeated the story to anyone – ever.

C
HAPTER
13

Emma

Two years
earlier.

“I still can’t
believe you’re here.”

“I’ve been
here before, Emma.” David laughed. His perfect veneer smile shone
as he pulled me into him, kissing my shoulder. I was sitting with
my back pressed against his chest, leaning back to look at the man
who had crossed the world to be with me. His legs were at the sides
of mine and I’d been sifting sand through my fist onto his shin for
the past hour, listening to his breathing behind me, enjoying our
permanent reunion. The evening was perfect. Warm Atlantic air
ruffled David’s dark hair as the waves lapped against the shore. A
gentle taste of salt resonated in my mouth. We’d walked along the
beach, had a picnic earlier in the day, and now we were simply
relishing one another’s company.

“You know what
I mean. You’re in the U.S. to stay, and you’re not going to leave
me again.”

“I love you,
Emma. I’m sorry this couldn’t happen before but now, I will never
leave you, my sweet.”

A sense of
calmness settled over me. I’d met David eight years ago at my
brother Tristan’s wedding in Austria. I was thirteen at the time,
and the fifteen-year-old boy who had waved to me from across the
restaurant had caught my attention the moment his mouth curved up.
He hadn’t been invited or anything, but Tristan being the
spontaneous kind of guy, decided to propose to and marry Allie the
same day. So when we went to a local restaurant for a family
dinner, my brother hosted everyone who was there already,
celebrating his happy day. And that’s where I saw David. He was
sitting with his family and eventually asked me to dance. Not that
I knew how to, but it didn’t matter, because David had some sweet
moves. I’d wondered if it was a European thing because everyone
knew how to dance. I swear it was an instant love kind of a dance.
David was so different and polite, and with the little English he
spoke at the time, he intrigued me. He literally swept me off my
feet.

For a long
time it felt like we communicated through the language of love. The
gentle kisses on my hand when he greeted me and soft whispers in my
ear in German sent chills and goose bumps along my arms that
marched like an army of ants. He could have been saying
You have
something stuck between your teeth
or
There’s a booger in
your nose
and I’d still think it was the sexiest thing he could
have whispered. For the first year, we kept in touch. I wrote
letters on scented paper, leaving lipstick kisses in their corners.
Once I got a chance to persuade my parents to visit my cousin Gabe
in Austria, for two summers in a row, they knew that my summer
fling was much more than that. David and I took turns visiting each
other every other summer after that, spending the time to travel
all over Europe and the United States. Needless to say, David’s
parents weren’t pleased with the arrangement funded by my
family.

“You’d better
not leave me. Although your family would be happy if you did.”

His father
owned a bakery in Vienna. It had been passed down from his
great-great-grandfather, generation after generation, and David was
supposed to be the next in line to take over. That was why his
family didn’t approve of us – I not only took their son across the
world, but also threatened the possibility of him inheriting his
father’s bakery upon retirement. That was the stipulation they made
to David: it was the bakery or me. And David chose me. He left
everything and everyone to be with me. With the few months I had
left at NYU, David said it was enough time for him to get settled
here and get ready to start a life, together as a couple, once I
was done.

“They’ll get
used to it. They have to. I’ll open a bakery here and make you and
them proud.” He squeezed me from behind, nuzzling his nose into my
neck

“I’m already
proud of you. What will you bake?” I tilted my head to the side to
allow him greater access, knowing so well that this would lead to a
hot and heavy make-out session on the beach. I prayed my parents
weren’t spying from the window. I didn’t actually think my parents
would be, but my overprotective brothers, Julian and Tristan –
well, that was another story.

“I will blend
the American and Austrian together into pastries that melt in your
mouth, and bread you can’t wait to cool down to try a taste. I
think the two mix together so well. Don’t you?”

Of course I
did. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting there, waiting for the sun
to dip into the ocean with the love of my life at my side.

“I agree,” I
said. “And I can’t wait.”

“You will be
my inspiration, Emma. What do you call it in English? You will be
my moose.”

I chuckled,
“You mean your muse.”

“Yes, my
beautiful muse.”

The way he
said that in his sexy German accent, I wouldn’t care if he called
me a moose or a cow. I was his and only his, and he would be mine,
forever.

We watched the
sun go down, and just before it did, David shifted behind me,
fumbling with something, and pulled out a ring in front of me.

I gasped.
“David… what are you doing?”

We’d talked
about marriage before, and about the bunch of kids we would have,
but we’d always said we’d wait until his business was successful.
David wanted to carry his own weight in America. He wanted to
support me and our future family. My family’s wealth didn’t matter
to him; I was the only one who mattered.

“It’s not an
engagement ring, but it’s a promise ring to do right by you all my
life, sweet Emma. It was my grandmother’s, and I’d love for you to
wear it. I promise to love you and cherish you forever, and one
day, when I can afford it, I will get you a ring as big as a
mountain.”

I spread my
fingers apart so he could slide it on.

“I don’t need
a mountain, David. This is beautiful.” I moved my hand from side to
side, watching the small gems twinkle in the last light of the
day.

“There’s
something else for you in my pocket,” he said.

All right, if
it was any other American boy saying that to me, I’d punch him in
the face because I was sure he’d want me to feel his shaft. But
this was David, the most polite man I’d ever met. He would never
stoop to such low measures. He didn’t need to. If David wanted me,
he’d go straight for the kill, telling me how much he wanted to
make love to me.

He leaned to
the side and after a second-long hesitation, I pulled out a
rectangular card from his pocket.

Turning the
crisp card over I read,
Sweet Emma’s Bakery.
A New Jersey
address was displayed below.

“David, you
named it after me?”

“Of course, my
love.”

I threw my
arms around him, forcing him to fall backward onto the warm sand.
Our kiss heated in moments. His hands grazed down my body, grasping
at my curves and as he wrapped his arms around me. I could feel his
excitement grow underneath me and wished for a private room where
we could take this make-out session further than we were able to
here. I pulled away before I lost track of time and space and let
him venture into my depths.

“And you found
a location?” I asked.

“We start the
recreation of the place on Monday. It should be ready to open in
two weeks.”

“You mean
renovation?”

“Yes,
renovation.”

“I’m so happy
for you. For us. I’m sure your family would be proud as well, if
you only called them, David.”

“I cannot. Not
yet, Emma. Once I’m successful and I can pay for their tickets to
America to come see me and you at the altar, I will.”

“David, I
don’t like that you’re not speaking to your family. It’s my
fault.”

“The only
fault you have is that you love me. I couldn’t ask for anything
more, my sweet Emma.”

“You know I
can pay for their tickets.”

“And you know
that neither I nor my family would accept such an expensive gift.
Don’t worry, it won’t be long before I sell enough cupcakes and
strudels to make it right. I promise you.”

“And I promise
you that if they don’t want to come to our wedding, we’ll take our
wedding to them. Even if I need to get the priest to stand with us
at your father’s front door.”

“You’re a
funny girl.” He shook his head. “Front door wedding. Well, I
haven’t heard of one before, but hey, I’m just an ordinary
man.”

“You’re
anything but ordinary, David. You’re the love of my life.”

“And you are
mine.”

We kissed for
another few minutes before I shot up. “We have to celebrate.”

“I thought we
were, my moose.”

I chuckled
again. “No, let’s go out to dinner, David. Please let me take you
to a fancy restaurant for once.”

“Emma, I
couldn’t…”

“No, you need
to. Think of it as research. We can order every kind of pastry, and
you can see what American sweets you like to eat.”

“Sweet
American cupcakes are my favorite. I don’t mind researching them
here.” He shifted, cupping both my breasts, squeezing them lightly
with a smug look on his face before his hands slid lower. “Or your
perfect round buns,” he breathed as he grasped my ass, squeezing it
gently. I reached back, covering his hand with mine. He twined his
fingers with mine and pulled them up to his mouth, kissing them
gently, saying, “And your lady fingers.”

His hands on
me aroused me, and once again I wished for some alone time. “I feel
like I’m part of your meal, David.”

“Because you
are, sweet Emma. Nothing can be sweeter – no pastry I make or cake
I bake will ever compare to the taste of you.”

Yes, this man
definitely had a way with words that made me swoon in his arms.

“The gravy
that holds us together is stronger than Earth’s.”

“Gravity?”

“Yes, gravity.
I cannot live without you, Emma. You’re the one who holds my
heart.”

“And you’re
the one who holds mine. Please, David. Let’s celebrate.”

“Only if you
promise me to have your cupcake later.” Eyes wild with lust, he
gently bit into my shoulder.

I laughed at
his grammar as I had so many times before, saying, “I promise.
Pretty please?”

“I don’t know
how you make your please pretty, but it sounds good on your lips.
Is that what would make you happy?”

“Yes, that’s
what would make me very happy, David.”

We rushed to
the house to change. Knowing how much he meant to me, my parents
had allowed David to use our guest house where I had some of my
belongings already. I’d sort of moved in there, waiting patiently
to find a place of our own when David would be able to make money
at his bakery. I had just changed into a simple peach dress cut a
little above the knees when the doorbell rang. When I opened the
door, David stood there in his white shirt that accentuated the
tone of his naturally bronzed skin, sleeves half rolled up, and
khaki pants. He held a single orange rose in his hand.