"Tell me you love me."
"Madly. You rock my world, Jacob."
"You're the center of mine," he responded. The last time I saw Jacob had been 2 days ago, when he flew back from arizona for four hours just to see me, but he comes home tonight.
I don't have any classes today, I had a single shift at Starbucks and a just received an email to meet with my advisor for political science. Unfortunately from the rather cryptic email he left me, I do believe he wants to discuss the conflict of interest that I may have interning at that particular law firm.
Becky and Spencer meet me at the entrance of the cafe just as I clock out. "Nice haircut Spence, it's...clean."
"Shut up," he chuckles. His hair had probably lost about an inch of length and now was style messily with a section swooshing over his forehead and the sides less that a 1/4 of an inch short. "I wanted to try something new."
"Well it's...something?" Becky adds sarcastically. "Hey Em can I borrow your phone? Mines, dead."
"Sure, but let me know if Jacob texts. He's coming back home today." The look she shared with Spencer was worrisome but also fleeting, for if I had blinked I would have missed it, but it was there. "You guys ready to go?"
"Um, I know we had planned on going to the library to work, but Spencer and I had the amazing idea of signing us all up for spin class. What do you say?"
"Working out on a bike until I can't feel my legs? Yeah absolutely," I reply sarcastically.
"Please. It will be fun and we already signed you up so you have to go now." Spencer adds. I roll my eyes and reluctantly agree. After we all headed back to our rooms and changed in exercise gear, we met on the lawn. "Scintillating as ever," he says to Becky and I.
Walking through the lawn, I had felt a great many eyes upon us, some darting back and forth from their phones to me, and others laughing and whispering among friends. "Anyone else feeling like an animal being observed in a zoo? Why are these people staring?"
"Because, Spencer here decided to do the annual nude run campas and is still the high of hubris for many people clearly."
"You did what?!" I'm shocked, and unable to contain my laughter.
"Yeah, yeah, I was drunk. And might I add," he chirps up look at Becky, "that Miss Rebecca over here nearly joined me and the 6 others as well."
"Well that explains the stares."
This time the look between Becky and Spencer was much more visible, and I acknowledged it. "Okay what do you two know, but I don't."
"What are you talking about?" Becky mumbled walking faster to the parking lot.
"Cut the crap Beck, tell me."
She stoped abruptly and turned to face me slowly, "Emma. There's been a little...video, uploaded online?" She glanced at Spencer for help.
"What type of video?" I ask, confused by her uncomfort.
"Well, it's more of a...tape of sorts."
"Like a documentary or VCR?"
"No. Not like a VCR-"
"Just tell me. And stop mansplaining."
"It's a sex tape. Of my brother. And...Ava."
My knees feel weak, and my stomach churning, heart aching. "When?" I croak.
"It was uploaded a couple of hours ago. But unfortunately it's...everywhere."
"So I'm guessing there was no nude run?" I laugh. But happy and humorous is far from what I'm feeling right now.
She pulls out my phone and hands it to me. Sure enough when I type the letters, 'Jac' into google search engine, it comes up with the tape and the many articles, blogs, videos, images and other social media posts.
'Billionaire Playboy in Phoenix' the headlines read.
"Oh My God," I sob. "I'm sorry guys. I don't think I can make the thing today. Excuse me." I run off to my dorm room, ignoring the many stares I get from people as they pass-me-by.
When I make it back to my room, I crawl into my bed, under the covers and shape myself into the fetal position.And began to cry. But it was more than just crying, it was the kind of desolate sobbing that comes from a person drained of all hope. I sank further into the bed, hoping that it engulfs me and buries me alive. I had always been so self-conscious when I cried, but now I just give way to the enormity of my devastation. I sobbed into my hands and the tears dripped between her fingers, raining down onto the sheet bellow. My breathing was ragged, gasping and drowning out the pounding of my heart.
Hearts don't snap like brittle caramel or burst like an overfilled balloon. A heart breaks in the heaving waves of a new disturbing reality that has arrived uninvited. It is the one in which their child no longer lives, or their partner is terminally sick. It is entering a life they can't bear and so they break. They aren't the same again, there's just a part of them that had to die so that the rest of them could carry on their duties to the other people they love.
"Oh darling, it's okay," I hear spencer sweet, quiet voice enter the room.
"Shh, Shh. Shh, I'm here," Becky added, and got on top the bed as well. I remove the sheets from over the top of my head and both of my friends take my into an embrace as if trying to relieve me and dissipate my pain onto themselves.
"It hu-hurts," I stutter.
"I know," Spencer responds warmly and rubs my back. I hear my phone ringing. I know who it probably is, and my suspicion is confirmed when I turn it over to see Jacob's caller ID flash like a blinding light on my screen. I send him to voicemail the first time.
The second time my phone rang, Becky answered with a brusque "Yes?" Then her tone took on a chilly bite. "I see you're having a good time."
I looked at Becky and felt the heat rippling off her. She met my gaze. "Yes, she's here."
I straightened away from Spencer and managed to stand. Fighting off a wave of nausea, I went to her and held out my hand for the phone. She gave it to me reluctantly and stepped back. I swallowed a sob. "Hello."
There was a pause. Jacob's breathing quickened. I'd said one word, but from that, he knew that I knew. "Baby—"
Abruptly sick, I ran to the communal bathroom and dropped the phone, barely managing to lift the toilet seat before emptying the contents of my stomach in racking, violent heaves.
Becky and Spencer ran in and I shook my head at them. "Go away," I gasped, sinking to the floor with my back against the wall.
"Emma—"
"I need a minute, Guys. Just ... give me a minute."
They stared at me, then nodded, closing the stall door behind them.
From the phone on the floor, I heard Jacob yelling. I reached for it, wrapping my hand around it and dragging it over. I lifted it to my ear.
"Emma! For God's sake, pick up the phone!"
"Stop shouting," I told him, my head pounding.
"Christ." He took a ragged breath. "You're sick. Damn it. I'm too far away ..." His voice rose. "Dylan! Where the fuck are you? I want the goddamn jet ready now! Get on the damn phone—"
"No. No, don't—"
"It happened before we were together." He spoke too fast, was breathing too fast. "I don't know when or—how it got out?" Someone spoke in the background. "I've got people tracking down the original distributor and I promise you that I didn't even know it was filmed."
"Jacob—"
"Emma, I swear to you that fucking video wasn't taken this week. I would never do that to you. You know that. You know what you mean to me—"
"Jacob, calm down." My racing pulse began to quicken. He was frantic. Panicked. It broke my heart to hear it. He was so strong, capable of managing and surviving and crushing anything.
I was his weakness, when all I wanted was to be his strength. "You have to believe me, Emma. I would never do that to us. I would never—"
"Shhh."
"—fuck around—What?"
"Please just-I need a minute to breath, to think"
Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back to rest against the stall. My stomach began to settle. "It's fine."
His shuddered exhale came hard and heavy across the line. "God."
Silence.
I knew how much it meant to him that I believed him utterly. About everything. Anything. He couldn't help but find that nearly impossible to accept, even as he craved my trust more than I think he craved my love. To him, my belief in him was my love. His explanation was simple, some might say too simple, but knowing him the way I did, it was the one that made the most sense.
"I love you." His voice was soft. Weary. "I love you so much, Emma. When you didn't answer your phone—"
"I know."
"I'm sorry." He made a small noise filled with pain and regret. "So sorry you saw that. It's so fucked up. All of this is fucked up."
"I know."
"I hate that you're there and I'm here," he groaned.
"Me, too."
"We're not doing this again."
"What?"
He huffed out a grunt. "This whole separation thing, I hate it. Plus I could think in any of my meetings when I knew you were so far away. It was pointless even being there. The amounI times I scheduled and then cancelled a flight back to new York-well, I'm just surprised my poiolet hasn't killed me." He was rambling.
"When can you come home?"
"I'm leaving now," he sighs in frustration, "I want more than anything just to be there with you right now.
I shook my head, even though he couldn't see. "Can you take the next few days off." I know it was a risk considering the valuable role his company relied on him to uphold.
"Why ...? Yes. Of course you're sick—"
"No, I'm fine. I just was wondering becuase I wanted to know if you wanted to do that getway trip you won in that auction? You know. Leave New York behind for a bit."
"Anything. Yes! Please! Absolutely."
At this point I could tell he was simping. "Can Becky and Spencer come too?"
"Anything you want baby."
There was a small stretch of silence until I said, "Are you sure you can take the time off?
"What's the point in being a boss if you can't make your own rules?" Again silence. "I promise I'll find the person who did this."
"It's out in the wild, Jacob. Nothing you can do will change that." I pulled myself up off the floor. "You can hunt him—or her—down later."
"I love you," he said almost in heartbreaking agony.
"Bye Jacob." I glanced over at my fiends and raised an eyebrow. "So, do you guys want to come with me to Bora Bora?"
--
After much back and forth arguing, Jacob agreed to wait at the airport for us instead of meeting at campus. After all, I think it's best for him to stay out of the spotlight for a while, and while he has tried to convince me to stay a week or two in Bora Bora, I remind him of the Streisand effect and how staying away so long will only create more drama when we return. Incidental confession of guilt and whatnot. 'See you at the hangar. Have Peter drive you,' was all he texted me. Although I had known Peter for many many years, I didn't feel it right to use his services under Jacobs payroll, no matter how much I try and tell myself, 'It's his job.' Instead, Becky ends up calling a maxi-taxi. While I packed only three shirts, shorts, a jumper and nice dress and many bikinis, it appears that Spencer and Becky have packed their entire wardrobes. Which, even if I wanted, I couldn't do. Half -well, more than half- of my stuff was still in Jacob's room.
Standing on the tarmac Jacob, was dressed all business. All light-haired and tall. Beautifully muscular. Tanned from his recent trip I presume. I wonder though when he would have had time to go outside. That is in between business meetings and sex tapes. Jacob however, was taut. Watchful. His motor was running, purring with the need to roar from zero to sixty in the space of a pounding heartbeat. No one had given my man a test drive. I had come to him with the intent to soothe, to strategize, to take a bit of my wounded pride back.
I took the first step forward and Jacob moved, his arms unfolding as he closed the distance between us. I couldn't see his eyes, only myself in the reflection of his lenses, but I felt the intensity with which he had me in his sights. It made my knees weak, forcing me to hold on to the jet's handrail for balance.
Tight, white shorts barely covered my ass and fastened well below my navel. My top was royal blue lace, with thin straps. A blue satin ribbon secured the corsetlike back. I wore thick heeled sandals which gave me more height and extended my already long legs. I had clipped my hair in a messy updo. Jacob made it messier when he caught me and shoved his hand into it.
His mouth sealed over mine, as if he hadn't noticed the pink gloss I'd slicked on my lips. I was held suspended in his embrace, my feet off the ground, his arm banded tightly around my waist. Wrapping myself around him, I locked my ankles together at the small of his back, pushing up so that his head tilted back and I curved around him, my tongue licking deep into his mouth. The hand he'd had in my hair slid down to cup and support me, his grip kneading my ass in the demanding, possessive way I loved.
"That's fucking hot," Spencer said from somewhere behind me, and gave a piercing whistle.
I couldn't care less what kind of spectacle we made. Jacob's hard body felt delicious and the taste of him was intoxicating. My thoughts scattered. I wanted to ride him, rub up against him. I wanted him naked and sweaty, covered in my scent. On his face, his hands, his cock.
"Emma!," Becky scolded. "My B.R.O.T.H.E.R, remember?" she said pronunciation every letter of the word.
The sound of my Becky's voice cooled us both off instantly. I unwound my legs from his hips and let him ease me down until I was standing again. I pulled away reluctantly, my hands briefly lifting Jacob's sunglasses so I could look into his eyes. Fury ... lust ... I wiped the traces of my lip gloss off his mouth with my fingers. His lips were swollen from the passion of our kiss, the sensual curves softened. He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over my lips. Urging my head back, he kissed the tip of my nose. He was tender now, his ferocious joy at seeing me tempered by having touched me.
Jacob took my hand in his. "You have your passport?"
"Yes."
"Good. Let's go." He walked off briskly.
I settled myself into the het, sinking into the leather couch. Jacob sat across from me with bourbon on a small mahogany drink stand.
This jet was a lot more comfortable than anything else I'd ever flown in, I mean, until a couple of months ago I had never been on a plane before. Now I'm on a fricken private jet!
Jacob pulled one of my legs up and rested it on his lap. I raised an eyebrow, but he smoothed my shorts and I continued to sip my soda. I would need a clear head for whatever conversation was to come.
Carefully he slipped my sandal off. It hit the floor next to his wing-tipped feet. He hadn't bothered to change before hopping on the plane, and his business suit and dark masculinity were a counterpoint to the stunning new-looking jet. The five o'clock shadow on his jaw would feel deliciously scratchy against her my if I had the courage to reach over and touch him.
I curl my hands and waited for him to make his move. His thumb dug firmly into my insole, and I bit my lower lip to contain a moan rising deep from my chest. Oh wow. I'd always known he had great hands, but this was unexpected.
He continued his ministrations, his fingers firm and confident, like they knew all the spots hurting from years of wearing heels. I was glad I had painted my toes days before. Not that I wanted to impress him—becuase I emphatically did not. But I wanted to look pretty. For myself, of course.
I eyed his right pocket. His phone hadn't buzzed once in the last four hours. Ditto for his other toys. "The market must be really slow today," I said.
He gave me a quizzical look.
"Your phone and tablet are quiet."
"They're off."
I must have misheard. "They're what?"
"Off. We're flying, you know."
"You never turn them off though. Plus Becky and Spencer are on theirs."
"So? I'm spending time with you." He scoffed. "Do you want me to check messages and alerts?" he asked with a frown.
"No. Actually yes." I shook my head. "I don't know."
"You're supposed to choose one."
Why did he have to sound so calm and reasonable? "I don't want you to check, but I know you need to."
Now he looked amused. "I do?"
"Yeah. For every dollar you bet, you can win or lose a hundred bucks or something. And I know you bet millions of dollars a day. A losing trade can destroy you and your clients." He chuckled. "It's nothing to laugh at! If you only worked for rich jerks, I wouldn't care, but you manage pension funds. What are all those teachers and factory workers going to do if their retirements get wiped out?"
"You're cute when you're earnest," he whispers.
"I know you need to micromanage," I said stubbornly. "I don't have to like it that it keeps you busy, but I also want you to do the right thing."
"Thank you, but the company's going to be fine. I've given explicit instructions on what to do. I might need to check in periodically, but those teachers and factory workers won't have to scrub toilets to eat in their golden years."
And I knew by the determined and cool look in his eyes that he told me the truth. He took his fiduciary duties seriously. He pulled my other foot into his lap. His hands traveled upward and worked on the knots in my calves. This time I couldn't stop the moan. "I didn't realize you were so tense."
"It's been a stressful day." He sighed as I brought up the very thing we were escaping. He found another knot and worked on it.
"For everyone's sake I really hope you guys aren't doing what I think you're doing. And if you are, remember there's a bedroom in the back," Becky says on the other, fareside of the Jet.
"No," I laugh. She turned back round to focus back on her phone.
"We should fly to Malibu another time," Jacob said.
"Why?" My eyes flew open.
"I'm sure my Mom and Dad would like to see you, me and Beck."
"Maybe."
...
A black limo and a big SUV waited for them at the airport. I looked at the cars skeptically. He must have arranged for Becky and Spencer to travel separately.
The late afternoon sun in Bora Bora was relentless. The air was so full of moisture, my dress clung to me. "My god," I breathed.
"Let's get inside the limo," Jacob said, and everyone clambered into the cars.
Jacob open the door for me and the cool dry air in the limo provided instant relief. "It's so hot."
"A little hotter than New York, I guess," he chuckled, "but it's the humidity." He handed me a bottle of ice-cold mineral water. "It'll be better at the house. We run the AC twenty-four seven there, and it's on the ocean."
In about ten minutes or so, the drivers started toward the Jobs vacation home.
"So where is the house exactly?" I ask.
"On a private beach. It's a fairly long strip."
Their cars drove past a gate manned by three machine-gun toting guards, their white smiles startling against dark sweat-beaded skin. Then there was a two-lane road for another twenty minutes or so through vegetation the color of jade and malachite.
Located on a private beach surrounded by lush tropical forest, the vacation home was a white four-story structure that sprawled like a happy Great Dane. An uniformed housekeeper and two men came out to greet them at the main entrance. The petite woman introduced herself as Felicity; the others were Cyson and Rotui. The men started porting in our belongings.
The mansion was stunning. The foyer ceiling soared, giant windows facing the beach and forest. The floors were made of polished teak, and the kitchen, dining and living rooms all connected in an open layout that shared a gorgeous view of the aquamarine ocean. The master bedroom suite on the second floor looked out onto the beach and an outdoor pool, and had a huge balcony with a shade over an intimate glass table and chair set for two. I paused to admire the beach from the balcony, noting the endless rows of coconut stands and the golden bodies on the beach. Samba music drifted through the air, earthy and sexy and upbeat. Crisp white sheets and numerous fluffy pillows spread over the king-size bed. Unsurprisingly, the house also had a large office in the back that had a forest view, the vibrant greens providing a soothing counterpoint to the room's dark wood paneling.
"Done with the tour?" Jacob said after I'd returned to the master bedroom.
The staff had already unpacked most of our things, and he'd changed into a pair of cargo short and a tight, grey shirt. My mouth dried at the sight of his lean, muscular torso. He was the most gorgeous man to me, a godling among mere mortals. How could something this perfect be mine?
Jacob's smartphone beeped and he excused himself. I heard him speaking in another room and followed. We hadn't said a word since we left the airport, as if we were saving them for intimate conversation. Or maybe we just didn't need to say anything. Let the world talk and spread gossip.
I found him in an office, standing in front of a U-shaped desk looking at something on a laptop. It took a moment to register that the video paused was the sex tape. I turned to leave. "Emma. Wait." I glanced at him. "I don't care how guilty it makes me look. I'll be damned if they upset Emma a minute more." he said to whoever was on the other end of the call. "I'm not Ava's babysitter, and besides I'm out of the country..." there was reply on the other line and he responded, "I don't care, I'm not her boyfriend Shirley." His eyes caught mine and he hung up and silenced his phone, setting it down by his sunglasses. "That was Ava's mother."
Shaking my head, I told him, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to-"
"I want to. Ava was the other person in the video, and becuase it leaked when we were overseas together, Ava's mother wanted me to check on her, but I told her I'm not Ava's keeper. She assumed the video was filmed a few days ago on our trip, hence assuming we were back together." He stared at me. Without his shades, I saw the shadows under his eyes.
"You didn't sleep last night." It wasn't a question. I should have known he wouldn't.
"I'm going to fix this."
"Nothing's broken."
"You haven't said you love me both time when I said it to you. You're still mad."
"I'm not mad."
"Then your upset? or angry? or hurt? It just doesn't make sense."
"Babe. I'm not any of those things. To be honest I don't know how I feel. I feel nothing about it." And if I'm being truly honest, that scared me more.
"I heard you over the phone," he said tightly.
"Hmm?"
"You were physically sick. I felt like a part of me was being ripped away. I thought I had lost you forever."
"You haven't lost me, and if our history together has shown you anything, it's that despite everything that happens, despite all we fight about we never have the strength to leave each other. In spite of everything reasonable showing us that it's for the best."
"What can I do," he pleads again.
"Do what you have to do work wise," I murmured. "But I don't need anything. I'm good. You and me—us—we're good."
Jacob took a deep breath. Let it out. Then he reached up behind him and yanked his shirt over his head. He kicked off his shoes while he unfastened his shorts, letting them drop to the floor. He wore nothing underneath.
I watched him prowl toward me naked, noting the darker tan lines and the rigidness of his cock. He was impossibly hard, his balls already drawn up tight. Every muscle flexed as he moved. His powerful thighs, his washboard abs, his thick biceps.
I didn't move, barely breathed, hardly blinked. It amazed me that I could take him. He was nearly a foot taller and close to a hundred pounds heavier. And strong. So very strong.
When we made love, it turned me on to lie beneath him and feel all of that incredible power focused solely on pleasuring my body and taking pleasure in it.
Jacob reached me and pulled me into his arms. He lowered his head to take my mouth in a lush, deep kiss. Savoring and unhurried. Soft licks and coaxing lips. I didn't realize he'd untied my top until it slipped down my arms. He slid his thumbs beneath the waistband of my shorts, gliding them back and forth across the sensitive skin, until he halted the kiss to crouch and help me step out of my clothes. I whimpered, wanting more.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and he lifted me, carrying me to the bedroom. "Omg someone's going to see us," I squealed, "like Becky or Spencer."
"Who gives a fuck," he mutters, smashing his lips to mine.
Lying prone on the bed facing the open sliding doors to the balcony, I kicked my legs up behind me. I rested my chin on my crossed arms. The warm ocean breeze felt good on my skin, cooling the sweat that covered every inch of me. The fan over the bed, with its mahogany blades, swirled lazily above.
I took a deep breath and smelled sex and Jacob.
The mattress dipped as he moved toward me, his lips brushing over my ass, then along my spine to my shoulder. He sprawled beside me, propping his head in one hand. The other stroked up and down my back. "Mi amour," he whispered. If I hadn't watched riverdale, I would have assumed that was another woman's name, but really it just meant beautiful in Spanish.
I turned to look at him. "How many languages do you know?"
"A little of many and a lot of a few."
"Hmm." I arched into his touch.
--
I woke up to to the sound of pounding waves. Next to her, Jacob slept with one arm over my belly, his naked body resting on the tangled sheet. Through the curtains I can see a sliver of dark orange—almost red—demarcating the dark churning ocean and the indigo sky. What the...?
Oh, right. Bora Bora.
I moved his hand carefully and rose. My muscles ache pleasantly, reminding me of how sweetly my boyfriend had loved me the night before. Our physical connection seemed to testify as to how crazy I was to even consider giving him up.
But sex was exactly was was causing these troubling feelings. Of course not our sex, but the fact that his past relationship was now affecting me more now than ever. I wasn't blind to the jacob Reynolds fan sites, or Blog sites, even my very own comments in social media were being trolled. Commenting on my affluence, heritage, they even started attacking my mother, and our family's bad breeding. I could ignore what was said about me, but taking the fight to my mom, despite our current indifference, I was angry. Of course, Jacob had no idea about any of it. He rarely checked the socials and didn't give a shit about online gossip. How can I be sure it will change? Will it? I don't know how many more times I can get dragged and hold my chin up. There was no hope for a future for us. Marriage would mean children, and I'll be damned if I would bring a child into this world knowing they would be subjected to this.
Then I started to consider how the negative attention on me could affect his clientele and overall business. Better yet, I can't begin to imagine what this must've done to his work schedule. He'd even turned off his phone and tablet, and hadn't checked his email since we'd left New York. Surely, this trip meant something. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't want to continue to pursue me.
Jacob shifted, throwing an arm over his head. He looked utterly masculine, yet somehow vulnerable in the pre-dawn light. I swallowed. This was the kind of moment that deserved to be preserved.