Emily Prentiss' List of Things Never To Do Again
"That's it," Emily declares as we hail a cab. "I'm adding 2am pizza on a stomach full of booze to my list of things never to do again."
I'm far disagreeing on that point. It's now 2.30 and my stomach feels like the inside of a Magimix. Still, I have to ask, "What else is on that list?"
Emily holds the door open for me and giggles as I shimmy across the car seat, stumbling when my foot catches on a raised section in the floor. We always share a cab after a night out—it's easy enough for the driver to drop me home on the way to Emily's condo and she always insists on paying the full fare. Now she follows me into the cab, still laughing, and gives me a playful look through her eyelashes.
God, she has the most beautiful eyes. And she's the only person I allow to look at me as deeply as she does. When I was dating Will I always felt the need to lower my gaze or distract him from getting too close. Yet somehow when it's her I can't avert my eyes.
She nudges me and bats those thick, dark lashes girlishly. "Whaddaya think is on my list?" she asks. Then she gives the cabbie my address.
"Stuff you've done before but never want to do again?" I clarify. When she nods I steeple my hands in a gesture of thoughtfulness. Without asking she takes the left hand to manoeuvre the attached arm through the loop of my seatbelt, fastening it for me. I'm thinking hard.
"Drugs," is my first guess.
Emily smirks. "What kind?"
She's daring me to profile her, something she would never do if both she and I weren't full to the brim with booze and triple cheese pizza.
"Drugs like heroin, meth, and cocaine are typically associated with impulsive, disorganised, somewhat misanthropic personalities, so I'd rule them out for you," I begin. "I know you smoked as a teenager, rebelling against your mother and your upbringing. I assume you've tried marijuana at least once, for similar reasons, but unless you had a really bad experience that hardly sounds serious enough to make your list." I study her amused expression. Am I right? "I don't know, Emily. Tell me."
"Uh-uh," she chides me. "I'm not telling unless you guess… and you're running out of time. We're almost at your apartment."
She's right. The cab is already turning onto my street. "Come up with me," I suggest impulsively.
Some small part of me registers that it's quarter to three in the morning. There's no way she'll agree. Yet just as I'm preparing myself for rejection, the cab stops, Emily leans forward and pays the driver, and she opens the door. I stumble again getting out of the car and she catches me around the waist. The driver calls for us to have a good night. He sounds like he's just got a good tip so Emily must be feeling more generous than she's letting on.
"Mushrooms," I guess without knowing why. My hand shakes as I turn the key in the door. The grin on Emily's face widens and I know I've got it right.
"That's number 13," she reveals, sounding far from contrite. Why do I find that so sexy?
"Explain," I demand but she shakes her head.
"Don't you know what else is on my list?"
I nod wordlessly, my mouth slack as a dog's. She's dangling herself and her secrets before me like a rare prize and I'm desperate to win it. To have my taste of her before she's gone, closing herself off again.
"Keep guessing," she prompts, reminding me that for the time being she's mine to tease apart. Her voice is low and silky and it makes me want her more.
I swallow hard. "Drink driving."
"Never done it."
"Ever?"
"I don't know. A couple of glasses of wine once, maybe twice," she concedes. "It's not on the list."
"How about drunken hook ups?" I lick my lips as the question tumbles out. She sits down on my sofa and I stand over her, unwilling to relinquish what power I have. I realise I've forgotten to turn the light on because her face is in shadows, only half-lit by the light coming in through the window.
She looks up at me and smiles a slow, seductive smile. "I've had them," she tells me, tracing her fingertips up my forearm from my wrist. "And I'll have them again. There's no point in putting something like that on the list."
"Then how about hooking up with co-workers?" I whisper, catching her hand in mine and interlocking our fingers. "Is that on your list of things never to do again?"
"It was," Emily admits and it comes out as something akin to a moan. Her thumb traces circles against the back of my hand. "I'm considering removing it though…"
"You have been considering removing it? Or you're considering removing it right this second?" I ask. I can hardly believe the words coming out of my mouth and yet Emily seems to expect them. Her smile turns cattish.
"I've been considering it since you invited me up to your apartment."
Her hand in mine tugs me down onto her, my legs falling to straddle hers. I lose my balance and our hips connect hard. Her hands slide down my back to rest on my ass and she holds me in place. I bite back a gasp. This, too, is a game. We are playing for dominance.
"So I'm guessing having sex with women isn't on your list either," I husk into her ear. I feel her breath against my neck and I know she feels mine too.
"Far from it," Emily sighs. "In fact, the number one thing I'm never doing again is men." Her hands slide from my ass down my thighs and she leans into me, brushing her chest against mine. "Baby, if you let me fuck you, you aren't going to want to either."
The gasp that escapes my mouth is more arousal than shock. I know Emily. I understand Emily. I know that she would never have pulled me into her lap if I'd remembered to turn the light on. I know she's pressing her face into my neck not to turn me on—although that's definitely happening—but to avoid meeting my eyes. I know she's calling me baby so she doesn't have to say my name and I know she calls it fucking because she wants us both to know it can't be anything more. Anyone else would have just kissed me and left the sorting out of feelings until the morning. Emily wants me to know before we do a thing that sex is all she can offer. I guess it's considerate.
She's giving me the chance to make a rational decision.
But how?
Emily, how am I supposed to do that with you pressed against me? With your hands teasingly perched on my thighs, waiting. Waiting for permission. To move, to touch me, to expose me - to love me? And I want that. Emily, I want that so much.
"I'm sorry," I tell her and I am. "Having casual sex with someone I have feelings for is on my list of things never to do again."
I lean my head back and lift a hand to tilt her face toward me. I see her eyes glint in the light from the street, the flutter of the heavy lashes that attempt to veil them from me. I see you, Emily, I tell her with my eyes. I understand you.
"JJ…"
The moment my name escapes her mouth, I silence her with a kiss. She tastes like lime and I push my tongue deep into her mouth, desperate to taste every inch of her. She whimpers as I suck her tongue. Whimpers. Honestly, she does. I make it my mission to evoke that sound from her again and I do: palming her breasts through her thin blouse and bra and sucking against her neck.
"JJ," she whimpers.
"Yeah, Emily, I'm here," I moan into her skin, reciprocating her use of my name. "Em… You gotta tell me that if we have sex it isn't just going to be sex once or twice or whenever we feel like it. It's gotta mean something and it's gotta be us, Em." Her hands grip my thighs tighter and I resist the urge to buck my hips into hers. "If I could be anyone, or if I'm standing in for someone you want more, then I can't do this. You understand?"
"Number 4 on my list of things I'll never do again," Emily breathes, "Is letting someone believe I love them more or less than I really do." She takes a pause here. I know she's not considering her options; she's already decided. She's just wondering how to tell me her answer. Finally she says, "At least with you I know it's impossible for you to overestimate how I feel. Jayj, I could spend my whole life trying to convince you how much I love you. If you let me, I will."
She spends the time 'til the sun rises making a start on that promise. When real, natural light does spill through the windows we are lying in my bed and she is as bare as her soul before me. I brush away a stray curl that has fallen across her face and the touch of my fingertips causes her to stir. A blissful smile spreads across her face, although her eyes remain closed. When she opens them, her smile widens further. Our eyes meet and hers are unguardedly happy. I see you, I think. I love you.
She kisses me and calls me by my full name.
"Good morning, Jennifer."
Later she tells me that she has removed 2am pizza on a stomach full of booze from her list of things never to do again, right along with hooking up with a co-worker, and falling in love.