A Dozen Dates (20 page)

“Good. Don’t!” she told him and with that Michael grabbed a handful of hair with one hand and a handful of bottom with the other, and he tossed her off over his side, flipping her as he did so, and then climbed on top of her and pinned her down with his weight.

All of a sudden Michael froze and Gemma saw him staring at his hand, a look of deep concern on his face. She felt him gently pull her hair and then stare into her eyes, his look of fright worrying her. “What?” she asked him.

“Gemma... Gem,” Michael wasn’t sure how to put it.

“What? Michael, what is it?” Gemma insisted.

Michael slowly lifted his hand and Gemma could see the stark blonde tufts. A panicked sound of sheer terror erupted from her and she exclaimed suddenly, “What? What is that? Oh my god...” she shouted as she tugged at her own hair, removing more tufts and then suddenly sitting bolt upright, pushing Michael to the side in the process. “Oh my god,” she said as she looked at the bed sheets and observed the numerous tufts lying around, especially on her pillow. “Oh my god,” she exclaimed again before bursting into sobs of tears.

Michael jumped up and wrapped his arms around her, “It’s okay, Gemma, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not..!” she expressed between sobs.

“It
will
be okay...” Michael assured her, pained by her despair. He held her and rocked her.

“My hair is falling out...” she stated, and Michael just kept rocking her. “I have to go and look,” she said, gently emerging from his arms so she could walk over to the mirror and see the extent of the damage. She turned the vanity light on and prodded and pulled the thinning blondeness on her head, before bursting into tears. Michael, who had followed her, captured her in his arms and held her. He tried to caress her head into his chest but she panicked. “No, don’t touch it...” Instead Michael cuddled her in by her shoulders.

“What am I going to do? I’ll be ugly...” she said after slightly calming down.

Michael held her at arm’s length and looked at her, “I don’t think that is possible..,” then he collected her back into his comforting arms.

“Michael, what am I going to do?” she pleaded.

“Well, it’s hair... I’m sure it will grow back. How about we take you to a hairdresser’s today and see what they say?”

“Yes, okay...” Gemma said, “Can we go now?”

Michael smiled, “Yes, of course.”

Gemma showered, being careful not to wet or even touch her diminishing hair, and then she got dressed, applied a light make-up to hide the fact that she had been crying, and then strategically wrapped a pink scarf around her head, knotting it to the side.

“Gemma, that actually looks really good – nobody would know...” Michael reassured her.

“Thank you.”

The hairdresser gave Gemma her educated diagnosis - it wasn’t good... She could put a treatment through it to try and save it a bit, which she did, but basically it was chemically cooked and was in the process of disintegrating. She trimmed a couple of inches off the ends, but was reluctant to go any shorter in case the bald patches became more noticeable, although, she did recommend Gemma get a trim every couple of weeks to keep it tidy and at the one length. Basically, Gemma would just have to wait for the new hair to grow through.

“We can sell you a wig...” the stylist suggested.

“No, that’s okay... I might just get a few more scarves.” And that’s what they did!

Instead of going straight back to the resort, Gemma bravely allowed Michael to take her to a marine park where they got to walk through tunnels under the water and view the fish and other sea creatures as they swam all around them.

“That was really cool, don’t you think?” Michael claimed and Gemma couldn’t have agreed more. The next stop was an ice-cream parlour where they got triple scoops and walked across to the beach to eat them. By the time Gemma was finished she was happy again, and so was Michael.

That night they ate fish and chips at a cafe and then went fishing from a jetty – Michael’s catch exciting him beyond what Gemma would deem sane, and she laughed at his joviality. “I suppose I should put it back – we’ve already had dinner...”

“I could cook it for you for supper if you like?” Gemma offered.

“No... Well? No, it’s alright. Well, alright! Is that okay?”

“Of course it is...” Gemma replied with a smile.

“Do you want some?” Michael had asked her when she presented him the whole oven baked fish on a plate.

“No, I’m just going to have some chocolate!” she confessed and Michael grinned at her. “Michael..? I’m sorry about all that stuff this morning and ruining the holiday...”

“Don’t be silly... You didn’t ruin anything. Actually, I think you handled it pretty well,” Michael had to restrain himself from chuckling. “Gemma, when I think back about this holiday, your hair dilemma won’t be the first memory that comes to mind...” he said as he smiled, and Gemma blushed and grinned.

When they went to bed that night, Michael laid down some rules about what was not allowed to happen... “I promised myself!” he declared.

Gemma looked into his eyes as she leant in to kiss him, holding his gaze and trembling as their souls showed themselves.

“What are we allowed to do?” she inquired as she started nibbling on his neck.

“Well, we have a number three, a number seven and a number nine left...” Michael stated and Gemma took his hand and guided it to her naked swelling breast. Michael moaned and grasped it in its fullness, bringing it to his body and squashing its form against his chest. “Okay, that’s number three out of the question. We’ve got seven and nine as options...” he stated before pulling her head to his and kissing her deeply, as he rolled over on top of her.

“What is number seven again?” Gemma asked while Michael nibbled her jaw and neck.

“You remember that day in the rainforest?” he asked before plunging face first on to one of her breasts, taking the hard nipple into his mouth and softly biting it.

“Mmm, yes...” Gemma answered, submerged in her wonderful memory of her first orgasm with Michael, made even hotter by his warm mouth on her breast. She moaned in her desire for him.

“Well, number seven would be like that without the climax...”

“Michael..!” Gemma complained and Michael laughed at her, “Does number nine have a climax?” Gemma tilted her hips up, trying to press herself against his hard manhood.

“Yes, but there is no penetration...” Michael said before descending on her mouth and kissing her, massaging her tongue seductively with his own.

Gemma descended through a couple of levels of consciousness, immersed in the kiss, her nipple stimulated beyond belief between his thumb and forefinger and her button throbbing. “Michael..?” she sighed, “No penetration..? Are you sure?”

Michael smiled, “Yes, I’m sure. Let’s do this right...”

“Fine!” Gemma exclaimed as she pushed him off her, rolled him over and straddled him. She passionately began to grind her hips against his stiffness.

“Gemma...” he warned, but she would not listen, instead taking his phallus tightly in her hand and stroking it. She could feel his stomach tighten, “Oh, god, Gemma...” She lifted herself, never ceasing the assault on his sword, leant in and kissed him. He massaged her breasts against his chest and then Gemma lowered her head to his chest, nuzzling her soft face in his sparse but wiry chest hair making them both moan. The she released his penis and moved down to press her soft belly against it, sensually rubbing him with it and keeping him stimulated.

“Michael?” she called softly as he caressed her head against his chest and occasionally pushed his hips into her soft belly.

“Yes?” he answered. Gemma moved her head down and began kissing his belly, her breasts sliding over his penis and Michael thought his head was going to explode.

Gemma loved the way he felt – his tight muscles tensing under her tender kisses. His hardness pushing against her – needing her touch... She reached down and took it in her hand, stroking it... pleasuring him. “Is it penetration if I put it in my mouth?” she asked him as she moved her head south and began placing delicate licks and kisses on the smooth, shiny top.

Michael started to tremble under her attention, “Oh my god!”

“Well is it?” Gemma asked again.

Michael froze so he could try and think for a moment, before answering her like a judge, “I’m going to allow that...” - she didn’t hesitate to slide her mouth down over his member.

Gemma and Michael made the most of their ninth date, pleasuring each other in ways that weren’t technically penetrative, but were technically amazing, coming and releasing each other from the pent up desires they seem to encumber when in each other’s presence.

The next morning they awoke early and had breakfast and embarked on one last walk along the beach before returning to pack up their belongings... Strategically, a half hour before they were due to vacate, Michael instigated the seventh date... Touching, but not being allowed to come – whose bright idea was that? Giving himself a time limit conveniently took the onus off him when it came time to stop. He had learnt the previous morning that although he thought his self-control was good, when it came to Gemma and her seductive snake-like cuddling, he simply lost the will to stop on his own.

“You know, Michael, the number seven date really sucks,” Gemma complained as she walked out of the room carrying her travel bag and pouting.

“I agree,” said Michael as he walked out behind her, and then he chuckled. “But at least number seven is done now...”

Chapter Nine

When Gemma and Michael returned from their trip, life was a bustle. Gemma had to catch up on an assignment and Michael and Nathan were busy signing documents to do with the settlement of their new project and within a couple of days Michael had moved in and he and Nathan were knocking down walls.

Gemma hadn’t been the same since the trip... Her already happy life had taken on a particularly rosy glow and she chastised her workload for keeping her from Michael. Finally, her heart aching, and not being able to take being away from him any longer, she decided to take her laptop over to the new house to work on her assignment – they might be too busy to play, but at least she could be around him and have afternoon tea with him.

“Hi Nathan!” she shouted over the noise of the circular saw as she entered the new house.

“Oh hi, Gem!” Nathan looked up briefly from his sawing before returning his gaze to his task and continuing. “How are you? Michael’s out to lunch with Sam...” Gemma’s blood instantly ran ice cold and she shook like a leaf, the pain of a thousand steel knives stabbing her through the heart. Sam...? After the time they had spent together..? How could he do this? She stumbled back, her gait precarious... She couldn’t take this... She felt as if she was going to pass out. No..! She had to get out of there.

Nathan, oblivious eventually turned off the saw and wondered where Gemma had gotten to; until he heard the screech out the front of the house and saw her speeding off, her face appearing red and wet.

Nathan frowned, trying to work out what had triggered his new sister-in-law’s sudden freak-out and then he had inkling. “That idiot!” he exclaimed, referring to his younger brother.

Michael was sitting at the beach diner having lunch and chatting with Sam about his two days spent with Gemma at Caloundra when his phone rang. He looked down at the caller ID and informed Sam, “It’s Nathan.” He answered the phone, “Hi! What’s up?”

“Have you told Gemma about Sam yet?”

Michael laughed, “No, I suppose I better get around to that...”

“Well, she just took off out of here like a bat out of hell and crying her eyes out after I mentioned you went to lunch with her,” Nathan informed him.

Michael shifted in his seat, “What? Why didn’t you stop her?”

“I was using the circular saw... I didn’t know she was gone until I happened to turn it off and heard the car screaming away. You’re an idiot, Michael!”

“Damn! Okay, I’m gone...” Michael told his brother before hanging up and dialling Gemma.

Gemma looked down at her phone and saw who was calling her... “Creep!” she shouted before turning her phone off mid-ring and blubbering again. She was so distraught – so humiliated... and so completely and utterly heartbroken.

“Damn!” Michael exclaimed and he tried to redial the number, only to have it go to messages. “Bloody hell!” he shouted and he held his phone and shook it, restraining himself from throwing it.

“Michael, what is it?” Sam inquired.

“Gemma won’t answer her phone... I haven’t told her about you yet and Nathan told her that we went to lunch. I have to go find her...” Michael stated.

“You’re and idiot, Michael!” Sam scolded.

“Yes, I know!” Michael exclaimed loudly, angry at himself. “I’ve got to go...”

“Well, I’m coming with...” Sam told him.

“No...”

“It’s my car! I’m coming with!”

“I’m driving...” Michael stated, and knowing he would not be swayed, Sam tossed him the keys.

Michael pulled up out the front of Gemma’s place; words could not describe how relieved he was to see her Ute in the drive-way. He bravely walked up to the door and knocked, Sam close on his heels.

“Hello?” a strange, low, broken voice quietly answered from behind the door.

“Gemma..?” Michael called softly.

Gemma began to tremble again, her injured heart aching and a lump rising to her throat, and she muffled, “Go away, Michael.”