A Dozen Dates (15 page)

Read A Dozen Dates Online

Authors: Missy Mitchell

BOOK: A Dozen Dates
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“You look different... Have you lost weight?” Michael asked and Nathan burst into laughter.

“No...” Gemma answered; distressed by the reception she was receiving.

“Nice boots...” Michael remarked with a smile, searching desperately for a positive in the predicament, “They look very functional.”

“They are functional – comfy too,” Gemma informed him, growing more defensive by the microsecond. She went to twist her finger in her hair but couldn’t, so retracted it and placed her hand uncomfortably by her side.

“Nice collar...” Nathan offered and with that Michael lost control and roared with laughter.

“And the speed stripes on your eyes...” Michael could barely finish the sentence for belly laughing, and Nathan found it contagious. “Make... you... look... really fast!” By now the two of them were chuckling out of control.

Gemma was mortified and she suddenly burst into a fit of sobs and turned to run away. Quickly Michael grabbed her wrist. “Ouch!” he exclaimed, retracting his hand swiftly after being stung by the studs, but instantly throwing it back out to collect her hand and prevent her escape. He slid his arms around her waist and held her lovingly, trying to calm her. “I’m sorry... Shhhhhh...” Michael kissed her head, “Shhhhhh...”

“Gem, I’m sorry,” Nathan offered his heartfelt apology. “We didn’t mean to...” Gemma’s sobbing was tearing them both up. “I’m going to go and get lunch.”

Michael kissed her head again, “Shhhhhh, Gemma I’m sorry.” He tried to make her feel better, “You know, you are very lucky... You are such a very pretty girl, and no matter what you wear,” Michael released her waist and placed his hands on either side of her head, trying not to squash any of her hair spikes in the process, and looked her straight in the face, “You look gorgeous – it doesn’t matter... you look gorgeous in everything...” Gemma’s sobbing subsided... Michael paused, “Except that
ring
! I can’t handle that ring, Gemma...”

This wasn’t the reaction Gemma had envisioned. She was supposed to appear cool and individualistic, savvy and streetwise, but instead she had humiliated herself... Again..! She began to raise up her walls in an attempt to defend her fragile sensibilities from any further embarrassment. “You don’t like my ring?” she asked, annoyed.

“I hate it!” Michael confessed with clarity. “I want you to get it out of your nose right now!
Please
..!”

Gemma tried to stand strong in conviction of her forward fashion, “Well, it’s not really about what you like...” She was lost; sinking in a dark hole but determined to go down with what little dignity she had remaining.

“Well, we’ll debate that later... But for now, let’s look at what you...
like
...” Michael gently took her by the hand and escorted her to the bathroom.

“Look!” he insisted, facing her towards the mirror.

Gemma looked at herself and defensively asked, “What’s wrong with it?”

“What’s wrong with it?” he repeated her question in disbelief, and then realising and sympathising with the depth of her inner dilemma, lowered his tone and asked, “Gemma... What’s right with it?” Gemma looked at herself more closely... “Do
you
like what you see?”

“I don’t know...” she confessed, her eyes starting to tear again, “I’m confused.”

“Hey now, shhhh,” Michael consoled her tenderly, “There’s no need to cry...” Gemma kept looking at herself in the mirror. “You do still look... pretty... Gem, you just don’t look like you... And I like
you
.”

“How do you know?” she asked as she turned to him.

“What?”

“How do you know that’s not me?” She looked back to the mirror. “How do you know?”

“Gemma, don’t you know who you are?” Michael asked, but Gemma just stared silently in the mirror. “Don’t worry, Baby... You will work it out... But I’m pretty sure you’re not a punk!”

“The ring does look kind of hideous on me, doesn’t it?” she conceded.

“Not at all...” Michael stated then smiled and turned away swearing, coughing and mumbling under his breath.

Gemma laughed, “Shut up.” Michael laughed too, and then watched in relief as she removed the large ugly piece of jewellery from her cute nose.

Michael looked up to the heavens, “Amen.”

“That looks better already,” Nathan commented when Gemma and Michael joined him outside for lunch and he noticed the absence of the bullring.

Gemma smiled and giggled shyly before agreeing, “Yeah...”

“Sorry I upset you, Gem...” Nathan apologised again.

“Oh, I’m okay... Michael’s pretty sure I’m not a punk, so I’m just going to enjoy all this for the day and then... well... Tomorrow I will wear painting clothes.”

“I like that plan!” Nathan informed her.

“I might start prepping the walls this afternoon... after I lay down the bark on the gardens,” Gemma told them.

“I like that plan!” confirmed Michael, relieved that he wasn’t going to have to be the one to sugar-soap all the walls.

“Hmmm...” she sounded as she looked at him, and then she continued with her plan for the afternoon, “Then later on I will put the sprinklers on the gardens... And the lawn...”

“They are looking fantastic!” Michael complimented her work.

“So is the house...” she flattered the men, and then she frowned, “Sorry about...” Michael and Nathan stared at her. “Being weird sometimes...”

Both men smiled and they chuckled lightly before Michael grabbed her head and kissed her firmly on the cheekbone, “Gemma, we love you to death!”

“I would have to agree with that,” stated Nathan and he placed a hand precariously on her head between spikes and he kissed her lightly on her other cheek.

A couple of tears spilled out of her eyes and Nathan took his hand from her head and clipped her lightly under the chin, smiled and said, “C’mon, chin up!” Michael gathered her confused little head to his chest and just held her for a while.

It was late afternoon when Gemma finished watering the gardens and she went inside and offered to make the men a coffee.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind a beer before I head off...” Nathan suggested.

“Have one with us, Gem...” invited Michael.

“Well, I can only have a glass... “Rethink your second drink!” she quoted the slogan designed to guide women with safe drinking and driving practices.

Michael grabbed a glass from the kitchen and poured Gemma a beer and sat down and finished off the rest of the stubby. “You know Gemma; I’ve decided that your hair is too spiky... and red”

“It will come out... It’s just stuck together with hairspray and the red will wash out after eight washes.” She informed him.

“Eight..! Eight washes you say..?” Michael confirmed and Nathan began to smile as he watched his brother lift her wrist and remove her cuff.

“Hey!” she complained.

“I’m just having a look...” he proclaimed, “Leather... It’s nicely made... give me a look at the collar.” Before she could say anything he had reached up and was unfastening it. He removed the leather items and then he looked at her, “Eight..?”

“Yes...” Gemma looked concerned.

“Well, let’s get started!” Michael stated.

“Huh?” Gemma was confused at first, but then Michael lifted her boot. Suddenly she realised what he was doing. “No!” She stood up and tried to get away from him but he grabbed her and tripped her onto the grass, catching her and laying her on her stomach. “No!”

“Yes, Gemma... The spiky red devil hair must go...” he sat on her bottom facing her feet, his knees either side .He bent up one leg and unlaced her commando boot before removing it and tossing it onto the patio.

“Okay, I’m out of here... I will see you both tomorrow...” Nathan excused himself, as he stood and placed the empty stubby on the table.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Michael said, not missing a beat as he wrestled off the other boot; laughing as he did so.

“Bye Gem,” Nathan said.

“No..! Bye... No..!” Michael sat astride her and half turned and pulled off her vest then he stood up, slapping her butt as he did.

Gemma got as far as her hands and knees before he captured her, “Where do you think you’re going?” He reached beneath her and unfastened her belt buckle before swiftly pulling the leather strap free from her shorts and tossing onto the patio. He then grabbed her around the waist, lifting her and carrying her like a sack of seed to the pools edge before jumping in with her still ungracefully slumped in his arms.

Gemma went under the water - the first thing she saw... the red dye clouding around her face; and then she was pulled up. She looked a wreck - her perfectly formed spiked hair now hung limp and knotted, and her make-up was trickling shamelessly. Michael laughed and observed, “Still not my girl...” before dunking her again and stirring up her hair with his fingers. He pulled her up... “Nup...” he commented and dunked her yet again, only this time when he pulled her up he cradled her in his arms. “Getting better...” he smiled at her, before gently tilting her back, effectively submerging her hair below the surface of the water.

“Have you finished?” Gemma complained.

“No... But I’m making progress,” he said and began to use one hand to try and rinse out some more of the red. Gemma looked up at him and when he smiled she couldn’t help but smile back.

Michael loved her smile... He watched as the red in her hair slightly faded and it’s now short to medium length billowed around in the water. Her make-up had all but been washed away and she began to look like the wonderful girl he knew again. She was so stupid with her pubescent like attempts at being a popular individual, but he adored her for it all the same. If only she could see how truly perfect her genuine self was. In time she would – he would make sure of that... “You know; if you keep playing with your hair all the time it is going to fall out...”

Gemma gazed up at him, relaxing in his arms and enjoying the swirl of water he created in and around her hair as he attempted to wash out the dye... What was she thinking..? Michael didn’t even look like the kind of man that would like a punk chick. She wished she knew what his type was...

He was so beautiful... The muscles in his face were relaxed now, as he smiled gently both with his lips and his kind blue eyes. Gemma wondered what he was thinking... Droplets of water trickled occasionally from his wet hair down over his brow or his cheek. Gemma reached up and brushed one of the droplets with her fingers, before slowly stroking his cheek. She could feel the tiniest pricks of stubble as its length grew through the surface of his skin. She felt the strength in the angle of his jaw, and then with her thumb she stroked the dimple in his chin before bringing the rest of her fingers over to also explore it. She then traced her fingers up to his mouth... his soft lips where she had found her Zen on more than one occasion. Michael parted them slightly and she felt his humid breath, warm and erotic on her fingers before he took them inside to an even warmer place. He gently closed his lips down over them, sending seductive sensations all through her body. She felt him begin to kiss and suckle on them and it made her light headed. She looked into his eyes – they were misty and staring back at her. Gemma swallowed – she knew what she wanted... She wanted to kiss him.

What harm could kissing him again possibly do..? She slowly pulled her fingers from Michael’s mouth and he sighed in complaint, and then she slid her hand around to the back of his neck. Gemma slid her other hand up his arm and grabbed hold of his shoulder and lifted herself... her face up to his and leaned in and started to tenderly kiss him, tasting his wet sweetness.

Michael sighed and welcomed the kiss as he let her legs fall and held her by the rib cage. He kissed her back, fervently, aching and hungry for her. He loved the feel of her fingers as she combed them through his hair, massaging his scalp. He loved the way she poked her tongue in his mouth and eagerly wrestled with his own. He loved the coy way she opened her eyes every now and then to make sure everything was okay... He loved the way she lifted her sexy legs and wrapped them around him when he slid one hand around and grabbed her under her bottom. Michael moaned in pleasure at how much he was loving her...

Gemma hooked her ankles behind Michael’s back and sat comfortably into his hand. She kissed him like it was their last – just in case it was. She moaned as his strong fingers threatened to tear open her shorts as they tried to dig into the flesh of her behind and she began to feel that delicious aching inside and she recalled the day at the Rainforest when Michael touched her and took away that ache – she wished he would touch her again.

Michael knew he shouldn’t – the last thing he needed at that moment was her bare breasts pressed against him, but he couldn’t resist. With the hand still on her ribs, he reached around and untied her bikini top at the back and then undid the tie at her neck. He stopped kissing her and pulled his head back to watch the fabric of her tiny swimwear dance loosely around in the water, occasionally exposing the dark pink flesh of the areola. Gemma wasn’t flinching... Not even when he grabbed the cloth and flung it out of the pool. He stared at her breasts as they floated, buoyant on the density of the water, her nipples erect and dark now in the early evening sky. He pulled her into him, lightly feeling her nipples poke and tickle his chest.

Gemma gasped in delight as the sparse but rough hair of his chest delightfully scratched at her sensitive nipples and she leant in to kiss him again, before allowing her head to fall back. She sighed as she pushed her breasts into him, rubbing them over his firm chest, tantalising them both. She moaned when Michael began to nibble and kiss first her neck and then her full bobbing breasts. She unlinked her feet only to run one down the back of his leg and back up again before hitching them back together. She raised her head and Michael began kissing her again.

Gemma was hungry for him and she wrapped her arms around his neck and angled her head to kiss him as deeply as she could. She moaned when both Michael’s hands squeezed at her bottom and clawed her close to him, so close she could feel his male form pushing at her where Michael’s hand had been the previous week.

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