08 — I'm going crazy

The week seems to pass slowly. I feel like an eternity has already unfolded before my eyes, but it's only been a few days since this hell began.
My clumsy hands searched for the pack of cigarettes, and I remember of trying it for the first time when I entered high school, when my mother spent more time in the hospital than at home, before I even knew about my father's existence. From then on, I smoked in secret — one of the habits I gave up on for Eric, who said he hated the smell… Even though he didn't know that this tiny, seemingly insignificant weapon was constantly on my lips.
The feeling of putting it back into my mouth after so many years is both exciting and frightening. But I light it and take it in deeply, leaning against the terrace railing.
The nicotine brings relief to my frayed nerves and a sense of nostalgia that inflates my lungs. The smoke that I expel causes a slight burn to my eyes, yet it appears to carry the burden that has been placed upon my chest.
The view from here is truly breathtaking. There are so many buildings in New York City, unlike where I was born and spent most of my life, a small town in Nevada. But I can see beauty in the way the sun hits the buildings, especially when it's setting and its orange hues reach us hard…
I try not to think about it, bringing the cigarette to my lips again, taking a deep drag… feeling the nice breeze sway my brown hair and kiss my skin.
“Did you go back to smoking again?” I hear Julian's soft voice, and my eyes search for him.
His appearance is flawless as always. Although his hair is a little looser in its hairstyle, and a few blond strands are falling across his forehead, there's not a single wrinkle in his suit.
As usual, I'm still thinking about Julian, and I didn't realize I had let out the smoke that was trapped in my lungs.
I tilt my head slightly, finally taking in his words… “When did you find out that I smoked?”
“Is that supposed to be some secret?” I half-close my eyes, and Julian gave a low laugh. “I've always known, of course… ever since we first met.”
“You're kidding…” I laugh dryly, but his smile and serious eyes don't waver, so I find myself freezing.
I bring the cigarette to my lips and take another drag, adding, with the smoke trapped in my lungs, “You're not kidding.”
“Your father doesn't know… if you're worried about it.” He crosses his arms, leaning against the door he closed earlier. And I turn completely around too, against the terrace railing, letting out the smoke that quickly disperses with the breeze.
“I didn't start smoking again, just…” I crunch my lips, looking down at the cigarette stuck between my fingers. “I wanted to prove something to myself.”
“And what is that?”
I raise my eyes to him again, studying his perfect face that takes on a slightly worried expression, as well his lips, that are an invitation to mine.
My mouth suddenly dries up.
“That the person I used to be didn't die because of Eric Smith.”
Julian is silent for a few secs, as if searching for the right words. Meanwhile, I bring the cigarette to my lips again to take a deep drag, without removing my eyes from his.
“You don't have to be the same person again. You're someone different now.”
Giving him a plain smile, I absorb his words. And slowly let out the smoke, looking at the burning cigarette… I know he's right.
I don't need to be the Angelee I used to be seven years ago, when I met Julian and my father.
I also don't need to be the girl I committed to being at nineteen, when I accepted Eric's request…
Neither the girl I was a few days ago, when saw Eric naked, in bed with my best friend.
… I really want to be someone better from this moment on.
“You're right, Mr. Adams.” I put out the cigarette on the concrete of the railing, throwing the butt and packet in the trash — those two periods of my life are definitely closed now.
“Mr. Adams?” He raises an eyebrow, “You're being formal again.”
“Oh-oh, does that annoy you?” I approach him slowly, but don't dare get too close, after all, I know the smell of the cigarette hangs over me. A disgusting smell, as Eric used to say.
But Julian surprises me by pulling away from the wall, taking two steps that are enough to bring us so close, that his scent invades my nostrils.
Raising my face, I meet his eyes, which glow intensely.
He says low, almost husky, with his hand reaching for my cheek to touch in a subtle touch, “I just like the way my name escapes through your lips.”
Julian's eyes warm my whole body and brings a tickle… an expectation up to my belly, which makes my throat narrow.
I even bite my lips hard, trying to bring reason to my mind, but when I feel his thumb rolling against my mouth, my heart skips a beat.
*If you don't want to take my virginity, don't want to sleep with me… why do your eyes show such lust, Julian?* I'd really like to ask him that.
I want to know why he fights against it so hard, even if his touch sets my body on fire, if his smell causes me to have confused and hunger thoughts.
Julian's fingertip passes through the gap in my lips and brushes against my lower teeth. Raising my eyes to face him, I move my tongue in a circular motion, inviting him in a little further. And like hypnotized by the warm feeling, Julian slides his whole thumb into my mouth, meeting my tongue, which envelops it in a warm, wrapping way.
I suck his finger and take a soft bite, but close my eyes when I hear him grunt deep in his throat… Honestly, I feel like I'm going crazy.
Julian takes his finger out of my mouth and holds my face again… no, he's moving his hand down to my neck, my nape… leaning toward me.
I can hardly believe that he's rubbing his lips against mine, moistening them with his own tongue, that seeks passage into my mouth. And I don't think much about it, nor do I try to resist — just allow him to kiss me slowly, intensely, like he's savoring my taste.
I'm definitely savoring him.
And I can't control my hands that search for his face, his neck… which, even though trying to hold on, doesn't fit my small hands. But a cool breeze blows through my body and I flinch, attaching my body to his, searching for his warmth.
Julian's hands are now sliding over the curves of my waist, moving up my back and down to my ass. He squeezes, filling his hand with my buttocks, intensifying the rhythm as his tongue explores my mouth. And when he pushes me against him, our hips bump over our clothes. I can feel his erection so stiff against my belly, and it makes me even hungrier.
To make me whiner, his tongue slides out of mine, going to my lips to wet them… but soon slips it inside again, making me moan in the back of my throat to feel the softness of Julian's tongue, swirling them together, sucking it, inviting me to explore his mouth too.
His hand goes to my leg, gripping my thigh firmly, lifting it gently, making my skirt ride up considerably, almost revealing my red panties. And somehow, he slides his hand into the cloth, slowly working his way up, until his fingertips reach the strap of my panties.
I feel my entrance wet, eager for Julian's touch, which hooks that tiny strap and threatens to pull it down. I moan again, deepening our kiss, giving myself completely to the maddening way he encircles my tongue and sucks on it.
Oh, really… I can't control myself, I'm totally horny… my body is on fire. So I let my hands reach for Julian's abs, for the hard-on that's stiff and throbbing in my belly.
He grunts against my lips, grinding his hips into me, making me feel even more sure how hard he is. And when I open my eyes, I see that there's lust burning all over in Julian's green eyes.
“What was that for?” I mumble, almost without the strength to utter a single word. Every part of my skin seems too sensitive, and even my gasping breath gives away the sensations Julian causes in me.
“I just wanted to kiss you…” He confesses, lowering my leg and closing his eyes, pressing my head to his chest possessively. “All damn day long, I just could think about kissing you.”
***
Everything was perfect… Until I return to the office…
Now, I feel like dying.
Blinking a few times to make sure that what's in front of me is true, I feel my chest narrow. Unfortunately, it's not a nightmare or hallucination — it's the purest reality.
The delivery man has just placed a big bouquet of white roses on my desk and left… a bouquet so exaggerated that I'm not only angry, but also completely stunned.
My trembling hands search for the note that's attached to the bouquet, feeling my heart beat frantically because I know what awaits me when I open it…
I know that I'll recognize the handwriting, and definitely not like the words that are there…
And, well, as expected... my predictions were damned correct...