Chapter 13

Julie

The exhibition turned out better than expected. Attendance was not only fifty percent higher than she thought it would be, the pieces themselves had already brought a lot of attention to them, some selling for a higher value due to demand.

Her gallery was quickly turning into one of the most important ones in the city. It was only two months ago when she moved here, to a bigger place, right after selling a Xen-Ling. One of those artists from China whose photographs truly captured how life was for a common person there.

The pieces tonight were part of a series, " Devil in the Details," by Victor Gonzales, a local artist.

It featured pictures of couples over a period of twenty years. He met them in the street, hundreds of them over the years, and tried to follow their biggest moments, capturing their days as boyfriend and girlfriend, their weddings, when they had their children, and even a few divorces.

A few of them were of older couples. It was the love life of the city, dreams and heartbreak all mixed in one.

Right now, she was looking at a black and white photograph of a suburban couple.

"They look completely normal," she heard a man say beside her.

Her body stiffened. She recognized that voice. She pressed her lips and nodded, without even turning to see him.

"You can tell they were having problems."

"Yeah, they look a bit tense. But it turned out okay, in the end."

A few yards away, another photograph showed the same couple still together, about ten years later. They seemed happy and relaxed next to each other, their smiles easy, wrinkles starting to adorn their faces. It was so cute looking at them.

"Nice find," she said.

"How are you?" Remy asked.

She asked the same question the day before. She couldn't not text him. Leaving him like that the night before was not only rude, it was freaking evil.

And she did want to know how he was doing. He didn't reply at first. Just sent her a picture of her bra, laid on his sofa. Very funny.

"Nice expo you have in here. I like the photos."

"You're into art?"

"Nope. Don't know crap about it. Just enjoy looking at nice things."

Her jaw fell to the floor, he immediately stepped back.

"I mean. Pictures and stuff like that. Not talking about you… or women in general, come on—"

She laughed, she could see in his eyes he was telling the truth. Besides, he didn't seem that crass.

"Okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. And by the way, don't worry, you don't have to understand the artist’s intention and all that crap, you only need to enjoy it."

"I do hate modern art."

"Like…"

"I once saw clothes hanging from a string, and a mannequin in front of a mirror. I'm sure it meant something but—"

"I feel the same. Not my thing."

"No judging, though."

"Did you get your car?"

"Yesterday. Thank you for calling them."

She drove him home, and let everyone at the estate know he was coming for it the day after.

He leaned forward to her, "I brought you your bra."

She blushed, "really?"

"Yeah, it's in my trunk."

"My gosh, I'm embarrassed."

"You should be."

"Oh, really?"

"Well, you know why."

He looked down and she could see his bulge pressing against the khaki pants he wore.

Julie shivered. He turned away from the people to their right so they couldn’t see.

"Sorry, just thinking about that night does this to me. That's why I needed to bring it back. I couldn't sleep otherwise."

"You liar."

"I'm serious, it's a big problem."

She glimpsed at his manhood again.

Remy laughed, "I saw that."

"Stop! I didn't mean to."

"Don't worry, it's not happening again."

He was trying to make her say otherwise. She wasn't going to fall for that.

"What makes you so sure of that?"

Damn it Jules, why do you always do the opposite of what you say?

"Pretty sure," he replied, too confident of himself. He was good at this, "I don't think you and I would make a good couple."

That was rude.

"Yeah, you're an ass."

"And you're too bossy."

"You like fighting."

"I promise I don't. And you're too stubborn."

"I'm stubborn?"

"Do you want to know a secret?"

She crossed her arms, ready for anything. He signaled her to come closer to him, looking around, making sure no one could listen.

She did so, and he whispered in her ear.

"You're kind of a good kisser."

She turned to him, "kind of—!"

He gave her a quick peck on the lips. It came out of the blue. She was surprised by what he said and in an instant his lips touched hers.

"Yeah," he said, "I forgive you, don't worry."

She was speechless.

"Let's leave."

It was too tempting, but she couldn't. It was late, almost closing time, and Veronica, her assistant, had everything under control. She was there because people respected her.

"Go out with you?"

"Yeah. Right now."

"Weren't you scared of my dad being a mob boss?"

"Scared? You really think that?"

"You said so yourself."

"I didn't. Besides, I still have to give you your bra."

He said it out loud. A couple of girls giggled, a few feet away. She blushed and walked with him.

"Let's go, you ass."

***

Downtown Chicago was bustling with life. Bars, restaurants, people. The trees were turning the colors of autumn, but the evening breeze was still warm enough to enjoy the night without wearing a sweater.

They walked the streets and before she knew it they went into Millennium Park, enjoying the view and the feeling of having big, lush trees to their sides as they walked the promenade.

It was busy, as usual. People walking around, street vendors and musicians. It was exactly at this hour, just before dinner, when the sun was barely hovering over the horizon and the light began to fade, when people began to go home for dinner.

They talked about everything. From their childhood to where did they go to school, to how life was in Florence.

"Glad you came back," he said.

He was much more gentlemanly than she thought. It was a rare mixture of manliness and silliness, he made her laugh.

They bought a hotdog and sat on a wood bench surrounded by flowers. The walkway had a bunch of statues, all of them of a woman with her hands up, clasped together. The same statue painted differently.

"That's a kind of art I can appreciate," he said.

"You know. It's been a while since I came here."

"I come here every week. I just love it."

"I'll have to come back more often."

She took a final bite of her hot-dog. It was amazing.

"The park is less full at this hour, especially here. People tend to gather at the garden. You can just come here to think and relax. It's great."

"That's a side of you I didn't know."

"What? You're surprised I like to actually think?" He said, teasing her.

"No! At first you seemed more interested in I don't know, other stuff."

"Like drinking beer and watching the game?"

She laughed, "no, I just, I haven't figured out yet."

"Good luck with that."

She laughed again, "but seriously, who are you, Remy Morgan?"

He turned serious.

"I'm the son of Edward H. Morgan. You and I are mortal enemies."

"Are you serious about this?"

He nodded.

It took her a second to let that sink in. She would have given anyone else the finger, but the attraction was unbearable.

After a few moments, she sighed.

"Okay."

"I'm sorry."

She rolled her eyes.

He placed his hand over hers, slowly, she had all the time in the world to move away, but she didn't. Music reached them from afar, a sax, from somewhere in the park. The sky was clear and she felt like in an old movie.

There was no one around. It was as if they had the park for themselves. The soft sound of leaves dancing in the wind soothed her. He leaned forward and she closed her eyes. She was ready.

They fused their lips and this time it was even better than before.

Heat surged through her body, her hands rushed to his arms, scratching his biceps over his white polo.

She believed him. And she didn't care. This was the last time they saw each other.

"We can't keep doing this," she said, trying to pull away, but coming back for more

"I know."

Good. They were on the same page. They would wrap up whatever this was and stop seeing each other.

He pulled her to him, sitting her on his lap, kissing her neck and shoulders and softly bit her upper chest.

She grabbed him by the hair and pulled him back.

"I mean it. We can't keep seeing each other."

He was silent for a moment or two.

"Do you want me to stop?"

Shivers coursed through her body.

No one was around, this area was deserted.

His hand grazed her breast, the fabric of her shirt was thin enough to let her feel the heat of his rough skin. She had wanted this since the moment she left his house. This man drove her wild.

Her body quivered again. She was wet already, needing him, just like the last time. But there would be no one to interrupt them this time.

She touched his arousal, it felt as hard as she remembered. Julie jerked him off over his pants. She felt like a bad girl doing this. He made her do things she never even considered before.

She loved it.

Remy grazed her thigh with his hand. She was sure he could feel how hot she was, what he did to her.

She wanted him to come this time, she would finish him off and they'd be even.

He grabbed her hand.

"Wait," he said.

She didn't want to, but he didn't let her continue. She was in the air the next moment, carried in his arms as if she weighted nothing.

"Wah!" She gasped as he walked to the trees, hiding under their shadows. He whirled her around and let her straddle him. He was way too good at this.

He grinded his cock against her center, his arms on her back and ass and then on her legs, and the way he kissed her… it was too much.

He pulled her skirt up, he was baring her bottom and she didn't care. She was his right now, and if that's what he wanted, she would let him do it without hesitation.

The sax in the distance, coupled with the sound of wind passing through the canopy was their background music. She couldn't have asked for anything better.

"Do you want it?"

"Yes," she begged, it had been long enough.

He undid his belt and pants and when she turned down to see him she almost gasped. It was even bigger than before. She had dreamed about this and now the fear of not being able to fit him surged through her.

That same fear turned into want. She wanted him to take her hard. Right here.

He placed his cockhead right on her entrance, without going in.

"Fuck me, just fuck me now."

Then she embraced him as hard as she could. His cock slid slowly inside, soaked in her juices. It hurt her a bit but the pain quickly turned into pleasure. He filled her completely, as if she was made perfectly for him.

Her muscles stiffened as his cock slid deeper inside, inch-by-inch. A yell escaped her but she was fast enough to silence it by pressing her mouth against his chest.

"More," she said, and he kept on going until his waist hit hers, her core full of him, her juices flowing down on him, drenching his cock, letting it move in and out of her, slowly at first, then faster and faster.

"You're mine," he said, "you were born to be mine."

"Yes," she admitted. This was the most intense relationship she'd been in.

Even if it lasted two freaking days, she knew she wouldn't forget it, ever. And he would be the same. They were perfect for each other, even if the world didn't agree.

She held him tightly, she used the muscles in his neck as leverage to get him even deeper inside. This was the first time she'd ever been taken like this. Things flowed so naturally, they were so free to explore their desires.

She was so aroused… every nerve in her body flaring up, waves of electric delight running through her.

Remy lowered himself, still inside of her, turned and lay on the grass. She rode him, feeling her juices drip down on his waist.

She couldn't talk, lost in the moment, lost in this sensation, she needed to make the most of it if this was the last time she'd ever feel it.

He brought his hands to her neck and tightened them a little.

It was more the appearance of a choke than a real one. She went crazy, she wanted him to own her, she'd already said she was his.

"Fuck me!" she yelled, not caring about the world, there was no one around who could hear her.

She was on the verge of exploding, her legs shivering, electric pulses on her center, taking her higher and higher until he pressed a little harder and she knew she had him.

"Come inside me," she begged, "come inside me."

That was it, she grabbed his hands and crashed harder against him until his hot seed exploded inside her.

The thought of him filling her like this was the last straw.

Her orgasm came like a dam breaking, flooding her body, lasting for eons before washing away, his seed seemed to keep flowing out of her.

Their ragged breaths were the only thing they could hear. This hadn't been just sex.

This was a glimpse of true happiness. This was how two people meant to be together felt when they made love.

He locked eyes with her, none of them able to believe what just happened.

A hint of a smile appeared on his lips, and she knew that she would be his forever.

"Are you really the son of Ed Morgan?"

"Yes," he said.

They began standing up, gathering themselves in silence.

“We can't be together, you know that, right?"

It took him a while to answer.

"Are you sure of that?"

"It's too dangerous."

"Let's run away, then."

She smiled.

"They'll find us, you know that."

They walked outside the trees. The walkway was still deserted. The sax player had finished his piece. It was getting late.

"So this is it, we're not seeing each other again?"

Her heart sank, she didn't want to say it.

"Just until our next life."

"I don't know if I can wait that long."

"We'll have to try."

He sighed. She told him no twice now. He was a gentleman, so he nodded.

"Can I drive you home?"

She took his hand and walked back to the gallery.

She already knew the answer, but hoped against hope that she would change her mind. The drive would be too painful… but they would get to be together a little longer.

Sadness began to overcome her. This was the first time she'd ever felt like this. Totally attracted to a man, it’s too risky. Her father would kill him if he found out.

She turned to him, thinking this could have been the love of her life.

But it wasn't. There's no justice in the world, after all.

She kept staring at him, unable to look away, a lump gathering in her throat.

Maybe in our next life…