Chapter 35Janie

Chapter 35 Janie

When I stepped out of the car after dropping off Josh, I found Emir at the doorway of my house, waiting for me. He’d changed into another fancy shirt and pants that hugged his tall, perfect form in all the right places. He could have stood at the doorway of a five-star restaurant, waiting to lead me to a table that could only be booked weeks in advance. He would have stood out, though, even if he was surrounded by luxury. In Napier, he glowed like a beacon. I couldn’t have a low-key affair with him, but that didn’t worry me anymore. I didn’t care if everyone and their cousin saw us together and had an opinion on my love life.

But if I truly loved him, I would let him follow his own path.

I’d already done the career thing. I’d exhausted myself; I’d given too much and run myself to the ground, but I’d also achieved something. I had clout. I had a house and a piece of land to my name. I understood what it must have felt to have none of that, to not be able to match even the little I’d been able to gather. I’d come across enough male egos to know how fragile they were. As much as I wanted him, I didn’t want to strip him of his pride. If he had to make something of himself first, I had no choice but to let him go.

“ Ho?geldiniz,” he said, opening his arms.

I walked straight in, smiling through my tears. I had to stop crying. I couldn’t spend our last night like this, producing copious amounts of snot. I’d already cried more with him than during the last ten years of my life. It was probably a sign of a midlife crisis, but I’d worry about that later.

“What is it?” He whispered as I sniffed against his chest.

“I’m so angry at the universe.” I drew a shaky breath. “The horrible injustice of it all. The timing of us.”

“Do you wish we hadn’t met?”

His dark voice made my chest squeeze even harder, and I pulled myself away to meet his eyes.

“I don’t regret anything about us. I wouldn’t change anything that’s happened.” I sniffed. “I’m crying for me… how lonely I’ll be without you. It hasn’t even happened yet, and it already hurts.”

“We’ll be together one day. We’ll be together for so long you’ll be entirely sick of me.” His smile was sad, yet somehow ebullient.

He pulled me inside the house, locking the door. “Choose the first room.”

“First room?”

“I intend to make love to you in every room of the house. You decide on the order.”

“Seriously?”

His inky eyes told me exactly how serious he was. “I’ll feed you first, though.”

I followed him to the dining room and a high-pitched yelp erupted from my mouth. Every inch of the dining table was filled with food—fruit, nuts, chocolates, pastries, and an array of Turkish delicacies I vaguely remembered from my Middle Eastern tour. He must have brought some of them with him.

“We can’t possibly eat this much!”

“That’s okay. Most of it will keep.”

I popped a roasted almond into my mouth and turned to him. “I think I want to start from this room.”

I led the excitedly jumping Gru out into the hallway and closed the door. Finally, we were alone. My stomach growled, treats on the table calling my name. But this was not a regular date night. I didn’t want to waste time eating and drinking. I couldn’t wait for him. I unbuttoned my blouse, letting it drop to my feet. His gaze dipped and darkened, tracing my body. The air felt warm, but I shivered from anticipation. Emir approached me, his movements slow and controlled, yet somehow charged. Like he was holding back something explosive.

I unbuttoned his shirt, untucking it out of his slacks to reveal his chest. My fingers hovered over his thumping heartbeat, then followed the trail of dark hair leading down from his navel, curling underneath the black, leather belt. A visible erection strained the fabric of his slacks. I traced the shape of it, drawing in a sharp breath. I felt him shudder at the same time, but he kept his hands still, gently cupping my elbows.

“How do you want me to touch you, Janie? Tell me what you need.”

“I’m kind of curious to see what you’ll do.” My smile was probably a little wicked.

“You want me to surprise you?” He lifted an eyebrow, lips curling up slightly.

I’d miss that face. Those sharp eyes that softened with contact. Hardness that morphed into vulnerability. I’d never met anyone who’d met me with such openness.

I nodded. My skin pebbled. I felt a breeze under my skirt, making me throb.

He took my hand and raised it, spinning me around like on a dance floor. But he didn’t let me go full circle, pulling my back against his chest, his hands locking around my waist. That impressive erection nuzzled between my butt cheeks, and he groaned into my ear. In seconds, he had me pinned against the cool wall, his hot breath tickling my neck. His hands landed on either side of my face and that erection ground into my flesh, nearly lifting my toes off the floor.

His voice was tender. “I can surprise you, but I’ll keep asking what you want. I’ll keep listening. Because I want to learn every single thing that makes you tick. So that we can have something together that’s better than anything I could do if I took a wild guess. Do you understand what I mean?”

“But we already slept together, and it was the best I’ve ever had,” I confessed. “Do you think it was an accident?”

I was feeling cheeky. I wanted to tease him and push him until he lost control. Until he bent me over the couch and punished me.

He spun me around again, keeping my back against the wall. I loved the coolness of it, balancing the heat emanating from my core. He had a smile on his face. “Joke all you want, but I’ve thought about it. A lot. And I don’t know. Maybe it was the danger of that night, everything else that happened. I took a shot at what I thought you’d like, and I got lucky.”

My eyebrows sailed up. “Are you saying you’re not a mind-reading sex god that delivers black-out orgasms without any instruction? I’m shocked!”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not my brother. I don’t improvise my way through life, thinking I’m God’s gift to women. I analyze. I rely on evidence. And with you, I don’t have enough evidence. So, tonight is about gathering data. Which means you have to be one hundred percent honest about what you like and don’t like.”

My breath came out a little shuddery. I curled my hands around his belt and pulled him even closer. “Okay. If you do the same.”

He pressed against me, driving the ridge of his hard-on against my throbbing, wet crotch, drawing a deep breath from the crook of my neck. “I’m a simple man. If I can get you off, I will enjoy myself, every time.”

“But… surely you have preferences? Color and style of lingerie? Big tits or itty-bitty boobs? Perfume or no perfume?”

He hooked his fingers around my white, lacy bra and released the front clasp. My medium-sized breasts embraced freedom, nipples pinching hard. “I want to see you turned on. That’s my preference.”

“Seriously?”

He dragged his drunken gaze from my breasts to my eyes, sharpening up. “Janie. You should know by now that I say what I mean, and I mean what I say. I want to know what turns you on.”

The way he stood perfectly still, waiting for my next move, was the hottest thing I’d ever witnessed. A man who didn’t pretend to know what I enjoyed. I didn’t have to play along to protect his ego. I didn’t have to convince myself I was having a good time. He was giving me space. He was listening.

A small smile tugged my mouth as a memory surfaced. “You remember that terrible bakery?”

He lifted a brow. “That drunk guy harassing you?”

“I behaved horribly. If I’d been alone, I’d never taken a risk like that. But since you were with me—”

“You felt safe enough to flirt with a drunken idiot,” he finished, his tone dry.

“And after that, I had this fantasy of you… punishing me.” I blinked, my cheeks instantly heating up.

His eyes glinted. “When you thrust out that ass of yours, I wanted to throw you on my shoulder and carry you out of there.” He was so close now I felt his body heat from head to toe, like standing too close to the fire. I couldn’t escape his scent, only breathe it in.

“That’s exactly what I imagined,” I whispered. “I imagined you carrying me all the way to the car and throwing me down on the backseat.”

He lifted me in the air like a feather, throwing me over his shoulder. I screamed. His thumbs pressed into the hollows inside my pelvic bones, inducing a powerful tug in the bottom of my belly. “Oh, my God!”

Traipsing over to the living room, Emir tossed me onto the couch. I scrambled up, shrieking from sheer surprise and pleasure, circling the free-standing piece of furniture. With two long strides, he caught me on the other side, trapped me in his strong grip and bent me over the back of the couch, his hands riding up my skirt, vibrating with tension. Anticipation. “Like that?”

“Something like that,” I giggled breathlessly.

“And then what? Did I teach you a lesson?”

There was a smile in his voice, thick with arousal. I could hardly trust myself to speak, that fire coursing through me. I just needed him to touch me. Take me.

“I think we had the same fantasy,” he said, delivering a sharp slap on one butt cheek.

The powerful jolt travelled all the way to my crotch, rendering me speechless. I felt him pressing into me and bucked my ass against his hard-on. “Really?” I gasped.

I needed him to keep talking.

He pressed himself against my back, slipping his hands around my hips. His voice was a gravelly whisper against my neck. “It took all my willpower to stand back. But since you told me off for acting jealous, I didn’t want to repeat the same mistake.”

Nervous laughter escaped my mouth. I was glad he couldn’t see my hot face. “Is it okay that I hate that behavior but also find it hot?”

“You want me to act civilized in public and spank you in private?”

“Yes, please.”

“No problem,” he hissed into my ear, hiking up my skirt.

My stomach tightened in anticipation of another slap, slightly harder this time. The sharp sensation tingled through me, all the way to my soaking wet underwear. I gasped.

“Too much?”

“Just what I deserve.”

“Well, you were quite naughty,” he said darkly, delivering another slap.

“I was.”

“God, this ass…”

His fingers found their way to where I needed them, slipping between the soaked fabric and flesh. I moved against his hand, desperate for more. I felt his erection between my butt cheeks, hard and hot under the fabric.

“Take off your pants,” I ordered.

“So bossy,” he grumbled.

He continued working between my shaking legs, pressing me against the couch, and I had no choice but to go along for the ride. It felt too good, too overwhelming. All thoughts vanished and his fingers picked up speed, circling and moving in perfect sync with the involuntary dance my hips seemed to be doing. I felt the erection nuzzled deeper between my butt cheeks, lifting my heels off the floor as he added more pressure. I couldn’t stand it anymore.

With vivid images of his smile, I came apart against his hand, my fingers curling against the smooth velvet of the couch cushions. A wave after wave coursed through me. I felt the joy and the sadness, the searing clarity of how much I’d miss him.

Pushing down the welling in my chest, still pulsating, my legs too weak for standing, I turned around. “Now you take those pants off.”

He smiled, and that smile still tugged inside me, just like the first time. I’d never get tired of it, even if we had all the time in the world.

Eyes hooded, lips ajar, he dropped the pants in seconds and produced a condom from somewhere. My poor skirt puckered around my waist, I hopped on the edge of the couch, spreading my legs. I felt the emptiness inside me, muscles contracting moments before he filled me, emptying my lungs.

Locking eyes with me, he subtly raised his brows. I gave a small nod and wrapped my legs around him, pulling him in deeper. The edge of the couch wasn’t as soft as I’d hoped, but I settled in, embracing the discomfort. This way, I was tall enough to take him, all of him, standing up. I watched his eyes roll up as his hips moved faster. His hands cupped my ass, keeping me in balance, sinking into my flesh with such force I fully expected bruises. But I didn’t want him to stop. I needed him out of control.

I wasn’t prepared for the fresh cascade of pleasure from the way he filled me, my body vibrating on a higher frequency.

Yes, I thought. Invade me. I didn’t want to be independent. I didn’t want to be alone.

I felt his release erupting deep inside of me and that unstoppable sensation reached its crescendo, sending me over the edge.

We held on for a long time, neither of us willing to let go. His forehead rested against mine, hot gusts of breath meeting in the middle. He was still inside me, holding still and hard. “Was that what you had in mind?” he asked.

“That was even better.”

“I love you, Janie.” It sounded almost like an apology.

“I love you, too.” There was nothing else I could say. Nothing different, or original. That was the only thing that felt true.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, finally pulling out and helping me down on the floor.

“No. You made my legs so weak I can no longer walk.”

He brushed my hair away from my face, that deep concern making his eyes even more beautiful. “I wish I could take you with me. I wish I could give you more than this.”

I shook from frustration. “I don’t care about your earnings or business or what it says on your CV. It’s not what I value. This is what I value.” I gestured the air between us. “Your honesty. That you can set aside your ego to form that connection. That’s a miracle. Why can’t you just offer… yourself? That’s all I want.”

He dropped his chin, averting his eyes. “It’s not that simple. Since my father announced his retirement, I have a responsibility. I can’t walk away. And I can’t afford to waste the flight ticket. I’m not in that position.” He looked up, his eyes filled with pain. “I bet you wish you’d found someone with resources.”

Fury swelled in my gut. “Most guys with resources are huge dicks. The richer they get, the worse they act. I don’t want another one of those. I want to keep you.”

Tears sprung to my eyes as my hands gripped his open shirt, hanging onto him like I was drowning. This was the exact opposite of the beautiful goodbye I’d been imagining. This was me, desperate and clingy.

His eyes met me, so full of regret I had to turn away. He pulled me into his arms and held me tight as I cried, taking deep breaths, trying to stop myself after every sob, only to sob harder. Until I finally gave up the fight, smearing his shirt and bare chest with flakes of my tubing mascara, tears, and snot.

“I don’t think I can do it in every room,” I managed to say between gasps of air. “I think I need to start pulling away. This hurts too much.”

“The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” His voice sounded choked and tight like he was fighting tears as well. It made me feel marginally better.

“I swear I’m not this much of a crier.” I pulled away to wipe my eyes with tissue I snagged from the table. “I’ve cried more in the last two weeks than the two years before that.”

“Seriously? You went through divorce.”

I sighed. “I was mostly angry. But now, I feel like I have something good, and I have to give it up because of… geography and shit. It’s so unfair.”

He pulled out chairs for us and I sat down, facing him. “I’m mostly angry with myself. I should have built my own business a long time ago. I shouldn’t have wasted years on my brother’s career, expecting this big payout that never came. I’ve had opportunities, and I’ve worked hard, but my family has lost so much with the hyperinflation… If we’d only invested in Euros and US dollars a bit earlier. Or even the crypto market. I didn’t act fast enough and… we’ve had some setbacks. I should be better than this, but I always followed my father’s lead. I never went against him. And I guess that’s why I took the job as Cem’s manager, because for the first time, I was doing something without Dad. I was calling the shots. And I was good at it. But I wasn’t good at reading people. I didn’t even notice Cem was head over heels in love. I missed all the signs. I didn’t even understand how that could derail our plans.”

I gave him a probing look. “Do you understand it now?”

He sighed his agreement.

“Let’s eat,” I said, browsing the array of colors laid across the table.

We ate in silence. Afterwards, I helped him clean the table, then found my notebook and pen.

“I’m going up to the hunting cabin to do some thinking,” I said, slipping my feet into my boots. “Alone.”

He stood in the doorway, face stony, and nodded.

It felt strange to sit on those steps, surrounded by the familiar greenery, remembering the moments I’d shared with him. That almost-kiss, and the real ones that followed. Everything he was to me, already, when I couldn’t keep any of it. I had to stay away, hide as much as possible, to survive the party and these last hours we had left. I couldn’t go any further or I’d end up with irreparable damage. It might already be too late. Everything he said and did dragged me deeper into emotional quicksand.

When I got back, I found him waiting at the doorway. Had he been waiting the whole time?

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I gave him a wobbly nod, stopping a few steps away. A safe distance. But nothing was safe when he was still with me. Still in my house.

“I’ll miss you so much.” My voice cracked as I hugged the empty notebook to my chest. I hadn’t been able to write a single word. Nothing was worthy of this day and these moments. Nothing I said could create the distance I needed.

Also, distance was the last thing I wanted.

“You don’t have to miss me yet,” he said quietly, opening his arms.

The late evening sun made his palms glow.

I couldn’t stop myself from walking into those arms. What had I been thinking? That I could somehow rip the plaster and expedite healing when he was still here? He was my wound. But with his heartbeat against my cheek, I felt no pain. I could postpone it.

“I’m sorry I had to run away for a bit.”

“It’s okay.”

“I thought I could protect myself, but I think it’s too late. I think I have to just hold onto you all night.”

His arms tightened around me. “That’s also okay.”