Hi again lovely FF folk. Many and sincere thanks for the lovely reviews. I will answer them all if you've logged in. It really does spur me on to write more. So thanks again.

Back to the crazy world of Naomily then. Emily has finally grown a pair and confronted the scary Mama Fitch. Katie has been surprisingly supportive, but then I always knew that she would come through in the end. Twins, right?

And Naomi? Well, she just got a text out of the blue. How she responds will decide how happy Emily will be by the time I write my closing AN's! Well, I did promise an antidote to the great dollops of angst I have been serving up (although some of you are addicted to the A word...aren't you?) But even in my mixed up brain, there has to be some sunshine. Consider this a solar soaked weekend break in Chania then...and someone knows what I mean by that...(!)

Naomi

I sat there with the phone in my hand for several minutes after the explosive text arrived.

"Its Emily, can we talk?"

What to do...

I was at work when my phone buzzed on my desk. Normally its fine to discretely take a message, given that Sage software is indifferent to interruptions. A spreadsheet is a silent master, sitting there on screen with the little numerals waiting patiently for amendments. Did I say I hate my job... I did? Well, I hate it even more today. It might be OK to answer a casual request for lunch, or maybe a dry cleaner letting you know your suit is ready for collection, but this text was rather more demanding of thought.

Did I want to talk to her?... After what happened at the weekend I really shouldn't, should I? Even if I put aside the fact that she had turned up at a function with yet another fucking guy as arm candy, there was the small matter of my indiscretion with Roberta too. Not that she was anything but a pleasant distraction, boyfriend aside. Hopefully that little puzzle was now solved. The fragrant Roberta, glorious tits and all, was probably making her peace with the voyeuristic Gavin and everything in her universe was going back to normal service...well as normal as a very bisexual girl wrapped up in a heterosexual relationship can be. I wished her luck. I've never had to suppress my longings like that.

I know I couldn't.

But then so has Emily...at least on the evidence I've seen. Shagging your boss is forgiveable if you do it once, drunk and vulnerable. Pretty, drunk and available girls are fair game for middle aged senior executives at company functions. But a fucking year? Either Emily is well on the hetero side of bi, or she's a world class actress. If she truly is gay...or mostly...it must have been a living hell to have to play that role on a regular basis. I have no idea what Richard Hurst is actually like as a person, apart from the fact that he conforms to the sort of stereotype that I hate, using power as a sexual weapon. But I do have Tony Stonem as a 'mini me' example right in my own office. He may not hit on me for lunches or drinks now that I've put him straight (ha-ha) about my sexual preferences, but it doesn't stop him doing visual tours of my tits and arse when he thinks I'm not watching. Given the chance, he sees me as the perfect candidate to bend over his desk for a bit of middle management R&R. The fact that I am 100% gay is more of a challenge than a threat to guys like him.

But Emily played the pink flute on Richard Hurst for 12 fucking months. The very thought makes me gag. And now of course this other guy is on the scene...after I fucked up so spectacularly when she and I at last made love, she's gone straight back to cock. Rebecca visibly enjoyed regaling me with the full details about this Neil guy today. Apparently him and Emily have been seeing each other for almost a month according to her 'sources'. Time enough for the floppy haired Hugh Grant impressionist to have sampled the Fitch full fat, creamy delights yeah? I almost lost my breakfast when Rebecca started waxing lyrical about how Emily has so 'obviously moved on from Richard'. Yeah, moved on alright...right onto another useless dick. No one who responded to my caresses like she did is truly straight...at least once her defences were down. I've slept with properly straight and bi curious girls. Not everyone is as enthusiastic as Roberta about it, but usually the straight ones once their curiosity is satisfied, flee the scene like the devil himself is behind them. Dirty deed done, they can't wait to get out of your bed, in case being gay is permanently infectious, I suppose. So what do I make of this text, and what do I make of the Oscar nominated actress, Emily Fitch?

I stewed on it for over an hour while the phone sat mutely on my desk. No way was I going to answer it quickly. I might have hurt her with my crass over enthusiasm in bed, but she paid me back in spades at the weekend. In any case, eyes and ears are everywhere at Jupiter Investments. One stray glance at the screen by a passing colleague and everyone would soon know that I was in touch with the recently departed E Fitch. Nope, lunchtime would have to do, although I seemed to have completely lost my appetite.

I'd spent the afternoon yesterday doing the same thing I had the morning before...getting rid of the ample evidence that I'd shagged Roberta thoroughly in my apartment. Another pair of ruined but sexy knickers to throw in the trash. Another set of sheets, pillowcases and duvet cover to go into the washing machine. My washing powder bill this month will be ruinous. I made a mischievous mental note to send Roberta a gift token for M&S...she would probably be getting low on sexy knickers at this rate...

But anyway, domestic chores complete, I sat down with a coffee (alcohol being off the menu for the foreseeable, I was all over the place as it was, I didn't need any more mood altering liquids), and pondered what the hell I was doing with my life. If Emily truly was a lost cause and it certainly looked like it then, was I really going to spend another year at JI, suffering Tony Stonems leers, Rebecca's gossiping and glaring pointlessly at Richard Hurst on the odd occasion our paths crossed?

And now this...an explosive text in the middle of the morning.

Lunchtime eventually came and I grabbed my phone and fled for the comparative privacy of the college green at the bottom of Park Street. Plenty of passing randoms, but none that knew or cared about me and my tangled love life.

I re read the text again, why I don't know...5 words is hardly a MENSA memory test. Call her...or not call her. As if there was actually a fucking alternative. I knew inside that I would, whatever the risk. It might be another short cut to heartache avenue, but I had to know, yeah?

Taking a deep breath, I replied. Not that she would have got much comfort from the words.

"What is there to talk about Emily? I thought you were back in the closet with Neil?"

I know it was cutting, rude even. But no one said anything about making this easy. I might have been playing naked games with Roberta most of the weekend, but Emily had almost certainly been taking riding lessons herself. My natural defence instincts are hard to suppress. So sue me.

There was no answer for over 5 minutes and I was about to give up and try to force a tuna sandwich down my reluctant throat when my phone buzzed busily in my hand. I hit the green icon before even looking at the caller id. Fucks sake Naomi, I instantly cursed myself, eager much? Which of course made it doubly annoying when I heard an unmistakeable Scottish burr.

"Hi babe...its Mini...how you doing?"

Now normally I would be very happy to hear from my recent ex. Mini truly is lovely. Sexy, flexible and really rather beautiful, clothed or naked. But there is a flaw in our relationship present and past. Not something she ever did wrong...quite the opposite. The problem with 'me and Mini' is simple. Feelings.

She has feelings for me...more than just 'get your clothes off and into that bed' feelings. I know now that she probably loves me. No one could have been as noble as she has been, putting up with my post Emily moods and taking care of my every need unless she was at least a little in love with yours truly. Trouble is, I'm not in love with her. I do love her, but I'm not in love with her. Something planet tilting has happened to me and I feel like I'll never be right again until I sort it out. Mini is a beautiful, forgiving and faithful friend. A friend with certain amazing benefits. But she deserves better...more. More than I can give her anyway.

"Hey Min" I said, trying to inject a bit of enthusiasm into my voice. She was just doing what Mini does, offering some comfort in these trying times. She deserved at least my temporary attention, so I ignored the beep as my phone registered an incoming text and made polite and friendly conversation with her for five minutes longer. I didn't say anything about my recent debauched weekend with Roberta, or my heartache at seeing Emily with that guy at the party, but I guess she must have heard something distracted in my voice, because I found myself agreeing to meet up with her tonight. 'Just for a bottle of nice wine and a DVD' as she put it. Normally, that was code for 'lets get pissed, watch an explicit lesbian film and have frantic sex on the couch before the movie ends' but that wasn't something I was about to do any time soon. Sex with Mini, or anyone else, was off the agenda until I heard what Emily had to say.

Hanging up eventually, I quickly scrolled down the apps to my message centre. Yep, Emily Fitch, it said boldly. An answer then.

"Hi Naomi. Thanks for replying. Its more than I deserve. Can we meet up tonight sometime? I have something important to tell you? E.

More than five words this time. I re read it several times before deciding texting was getting old quickly. I thumbed her number and waited while it rang several times.

"Hi" I heard as she answered. That husky voice nearly undid all my resolve. Jesus, this woman could sound sexy reciting the phone book. I physically shook myself out of a temporary, Emily induced fugue.

"Emily" I said as calmly as I could manage "Sorry, can't make tonight...I have other ...plans. How about tomorrow?"

I could have called Mini back and put off our get together, but I was determined not to be dragged into another Fitch drama without resisting just a little. There was a pause and a quiet "Oh" before she answered me.

"Right...well I understand. I have no right to..."

I interrupted her apology.

"I'm on lunch Emily...so I'm a bit short of time. Tomorrow night? Say 7 at my place?"

I know I was being brutal, but the natural Campbell defences are hard to crack. This woman had hurt me twice...no one said I had to be a marshmallow about it, now she'd finally decided to talk to me. This Neil fucker may still be on the scene and I wasn't about to make a fool of myself if all she wanted to say was that she'd decided to go back to gristle land permanently.

"Err...yeah, of course. 7 then at your apartment? Have a nice time tonight, whatever you're up to...?" she said haltingly. The nasty part of me enjoyed the fact that she probably thought I was having another night in with the pneumatic Roberta. Let her think it, I smirked inwardly. Not that she would be any more comfortable with the reality of me and Mini snuggling up on the couch tonight, but anyway...

"Oh I will" I said pointedly and promptly hung up.

Then of course, I felt like an utter shit. Whatever this olive branch was about, there was no need for me to be quite so brutal. Pure guilt surged through me and, even before I had time to consider it, my thumbs were already typing a text. I just couldn't leave it like that.

"Emily. I'm sorry for being so rude. I have nothing drastic on tonight. Just a friend coming over I can't put off. I'll see you tomorrow? Naomi."

The answer was almost instant.

"No need to apologise. Its me who needs to do that. See you tomorrow. Emily x"

I dwelt on that little kiss at the end all afternoon. Soppy cow that I am.

XXX

Emily

Standing in the street outside Naomi's block, I checked myself out in the glass of the door for the fifth time, my finger hovering over the buzzer to her apartment. I'd made an effort shall we say? Katie actually helped me, believe it or not. OK it took some world class pleading and a promise to buy her lunch every day next week, but my Amex card can stand it (at the moment anyway) and I really needed the sort of semi professional once over only Katie could give me.

We'd (well Katie had) settled on a pretty blue and white spaghetti strap cotton dress which I'd bought on a whim last time I went up to London. It showed a bit of leg and rather more of my limited cleavage than I'm used to with the right bra on, but my sister is nothing if not dead on with her fashion choices. The days of animal prints and plunging décolletage may be behind her but she still knows how to wow a crowd. So I went with it, along with the brand new set of underwear she made me buy from Fleur of England. I've spent less on a whole outfit then I did on the matching white lace bra and knickers, but I do admit, its sexy without being slutty and even with the uncomfortable experience of having my sister watching me try it on, it did feel right. The fact that I have no hope or expectation that Naomi will even want to see my underwear is by the way. Just wearing it makes me feel good. I suppose thats the idea. But now I'm getting stage fright.

I had the whole speech memorised, but it seems to have disappeared along with my bravado. I wished now I'd brought Katie along with me...just to the door. But she had other plans. Plans which no doubt involved her own new underwear and some hapless victim with a large credit limit. So here I am...standing by the door like a stalker, afraid to take the final step.

As I bit my lip and considered just running away, a loud buzz nearly gave me a heart attack. The door lock clicked and a disembodied voice rang out, distorted by the tinny speaker on the wall beside me.

"I take it you ARE coming in Emily...or were you planning on decorating my porch all night?"

Distorted the voice might be, but unmistakeable nevertheless. Caustic and sarcastic the words might have been, but I heard amusement too. Busted. Only then did I see the overhead security camera looking down on me. I flushed with embarrassment and pushed my way inside. I just hoped my burning cheeks would subside before I got to her floor. She must have been looking out for me. A thought which made my heart lurch in my chest. Maybe this would be a good day after all?

Ten minutes later, I wasn't quite so sure.

OK, she'd definitely checked me out when I walked in. I knew I looked good, the opinion of Katie Fitch is not to be ignored, but I could feel the assurance leaching out of me with every step I took across her lounge/bedroom.

She looked gorgeous too, although not with the sort of studied glamour I had attempted. A skin tight, white crop top which revealed a couple of inches of creamy skin at her waist, over what looked like no bra (stop it Emily) and a pair of dark blue skinnies. Her feet were bare and I noticed her toenails were painted vivid red to match her fingernails. Her hair was up, tucked into a band, a few wisps of blonde hair clinging to her smooth neck. I had to fight the urge to touch it. A clear memory of me holding her head as she'd pleasured me flashed through my mind...well...I had to stop that train of thought before I ruined my expensive knickers within seconds of arriving.

We exchanged polite hellos and she indicated I should sit on the combination sofa/bed. Again a sharp memory jabbed me. I'd been on this bit of furniture before...wearing rather less than I was wearing now. I pushed the treacherous bit of history back in its box. I was starting to feel like an adolescent boy, sex on my mind every ten seconds.

I accepted a glass of what tasted like quality red wine and she sat opposite on a padded blue Ottoman, legs crossed in front of her...waiting for me to start.

"Look Naomi..." I said, then she swallowed a mouthful of wine, completely sidetracking me. Those soft lips almost caressed the glass and suddenly my mouth was dry as the Gobi desert. I mimicked her action, giving myself a second to look away. Fuck, this wasn't going the way I'd expected it too. This close, this intimately seated, all my hormones were in full cry.

Again she raised an eyebrow and drank from her glass, licking those luscious lips slowly as my eyes fixed on her small pink tongue. Then I realised...she was fucking with me. Very, very unsubtly.

A feeling almost like anger surged through me, giving me the pause I needed to get what I wanted to say out.

"Right..." I said smiling slightly as she saw my recognition of what she was doing. Two can play at that game I thought, and leaned forward to put my glass on the floor. I looked up quickly as I straightened. Yep, her eyes were fixed on my cleavage. Mission accomplished, I congratulated myself. I can flirt too.

"...thanks for agreeing to see me. You don't owe me anything so I wanted to say thanks first. I've had some time to think about what happened last time I was here and what's happened since. Firstly, I need you to know that I've made my mind up about what I am. Whatever you decide to do next, is...well... up to you. I have no claim over you. But I've at least been honest with myself at last. Neil was a distraction...a nice guy who deserves someone who actually wants him. But that's not me..."

I saw her eyes narrow as I mentioned my fake boyfriends name, but the fact that I'd dumped him softened her gaze.

"...I'm gay Naomi. Not straight, not bisexual...not even bi curious. Gay. I needed to admit that to myself first. But I also needed to tell my family. I've been conforming with what my mother and father wanted for me for way too long. But not any more. My sister has amazingly backed me up and yesterday I came out to my mum and dad. They were shocked...well my mum more so...but I've had enough of pretending. And that includes you...running out on you...ignoring you...pretending to have another boyfriend? I feel so much shame over doing that?"

Naomi opened her mouth to speak...I'm guessing to say something about the reason I'd walked...no run...out on her, but I wanted to finish before my courage failed, so I spoke over her apology.

"No Naomi...that's in the past. I admit I was scared...shocked maybe... at how it went that night. But all you were guilty of was being a bit over enthusiastic...and maybe not understanding that I wasn't quite ready for...well you know?"

Naomi flushed then, so I reckon she was replaying the scenario that caused me to run. I know I was.

"But it taught me one thing. One very important thing. That sex with you was a million miles from anything I've ever had before. You blew me away Naomi...literally. All the pretend enjoyment I'd forced myself to endure before? It was like I was woken up after being asleep for years. I don't want to be the old Emily any more. I want to be this Emily. Gay and proud of it. So...what I'm really saying is ...can you forgive me?"

I took another large swallow of red liquid from my glass as she looked at me seriously. The silence stretched out for a few more seconds and I began to worry maybe it wasn't enough. Even pouring my guts out like this wasn't enough. Maybe Roberta or Mini had given her something better to treasure. I had one more shot in my locker, so I played it. It might be a waste of time, but I had to say it and she needed to hear it.

"Just one more thing..." I said nervously "...and this might mean nothing to you...but I thought...before I ran out on you...before, well before it all went sideways...I thought we had something...something more than just sex. Something deeper. Maybe it is just the sex for you, but I don't think so. It definitely isn't for me. I think...no I know...I've fallen in love with you Naomi Campbell. Properly...deeply...?"

Her face registered shock and surprise. I waited for her reaction, holding my breath. If she didn't feel the same way, I was sunk. I had nothing else to offer. If she shrugged and told me she didn't feel the same about me...well, I guess that was that. I'd go home, start to plan a life without this...without her.

Her mouth closed and she carefully put the glass on the table next to her. I braced myself for rejection and defeat.

"You really are a silly cow, aren't you Emily Fitch..." she said quietly and my heart sunk in my chest. Insults I wasn't expecting

"...all this time...all this fucking wasted time. I'm in love with you too...isn't it bloody obvious?"

This time my jaw hit my knees. In love with me...?

I think my happy grin must have lit up the whole room. A grin which was matched by hers.

"Come here" she said gruffly and, sliding off the bed, I shuffled over to her on my knees. Not the most elegant move, but I was past caring about anything other than her eyes and her lips.

Lips which connected with mine softly but hungrily. Lips which clung to mine as we hugged tightly and stroked each others shoulders with trembling hands.

Now, if this was cheap pulp fiction, the next stop would have been the bed I had just left. But strangely that didn't happen. Not straight away at least. I would have happily let her take me to bed...finally enjoy the sight of my body in all that expensive lingerie, but I think we both knew that wasn't what we needed right then.

Right then we needed to just kiss, to whisper words of love and just...be.

XXX

Naomi

Emily...bed...now...naked...

My inner libido devil was shrieking at me to take her. But I knew that would be the last thing we needed. Not then...not after that shocking announcement. I wanted her...wanted her more than I've ever wanted another woman in my life. But I was so wound up, I would have been in danger of repeating my mistakes from before. No...we needed to connect, to talk...OK to kiss (a lot). But mostly we just needed to be together. Deceptions and mistakes behind us. Me and Emily Fitch.

So we talked...and talked and...well there might have been more kissing?

And then I took her to bed.

Which didn't go at ALL how I expected it to...

Sorry about the cliffhanger ending. Rest assured the chapter which will go up on Tuesday (spoiling you again) will contain all the lurid details. Its just that I have to work up to a major sex scene...no really...what did you think, I just have a dozen erotic scenarios in my head at once? You did? Well, you might be half right, I suppose. Just know that it will be worth the wait (I hope).

Review me?

Thanks a lot!