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Authors: J.P. Bowie

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BOOK: A Portrait of Emily
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“You better not be cheating on me, amigo,” he muttered. “Christ help you if you are.”

§ § § §

Peter’s day had gotten off to a shaky start. After Jeff had left that morning, Peter felt a rush of apprehension watching him drive off. He knew he could trust Jeff. The fact that he had been so open about Joey’s first visit and the reason behind it was proof of that.

It was Joey he didn’t trust.

Peter had formed an impression in his mind of the type of person Joey was, simply by listening to what Jeff had told him, and he was pretty sure he was right. Joey was the kind of man who used his beauty, and the power that it gave him over others, to get what he wanted, regardless of the consequences. Peter was sure that he would try to seduce Jeff again and it annoyed him that he was not there to hinder Joey’s chances. His preoccupation with what might be happening in Joey’s studio at that very moment was interrupted by the phone ringing. Quickly, he picked it up. It might be Jeff…

“Hello?”

“You sound funny.”

“Oh hi, Andrew.” Peter couldn’t quite keep the disappointment out of his voice.

“Well, I’ve had warmer greetings. What’s bugging you?”

“Sorry, I was expecting Jeff to call.”

“Something wrong?”

“No, no. Just me being paranoid. What’s up with you?”

“Are you doing anything right now?”

“No. Want to come over?”

“I’m right outside, actually. I’d like to talk to you.”

Peter looked out the living room window and saw Andrew’s car parked on the driveway. “Well come on in, silly. You know you don’t need an invitation.”

“Be right there.”

This sounded serious and Peter hoped there was nothing wrong with Andrew, or with his relationship with his lover, David. He had been Peter’s closest friend since he had come out of the coma. Andrew had been his physical therapist and had helped him learn to walk again, but even more importantly had been there as a friend to get him through the dark times of his depression. Peter would never forget how supportive Andrew and David had been. Since the beginning of Peter’s relationship with Jeff, the four of them had been almost inseparable.

He opened the door and knew from the look on Andrew’s face that his news was not going to be good. The two friends hugged each other tightly.

“Like some coffee?” Peter asked him as they walked into the kitchen.

“Sounds good.” Andrew perched himself on a barstool at the counter and watched as Peter poured them both a mug of steaming java.

“All right, don’t keep me in suspense. What’s the problem?”

Andrew ran his hand through his fair, curly hair and sighed. “David’s been offered this incredible job. A transfer within the company, a huge promotion, and a heap more money.”

“But that’s terrific news, Andrew. You must be so proud of him.”

“I am of course.” Andrew stared into his coffee mug. “But Peter—the job’s in New York.”

“New York?” Peter stared at his friend for a moment as he realized the implication of that. “Of course, that means you’re going too.”

“Yeah. We’ve talked about it for days, but there’s no way we could survive living that far apart.”

“No of course not,” Peter agreed sadly. “God, I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ve been dreading this part.” Andrew took Peter’s hand. “Telling
you
about it, I mean. I’m just so glad you have Jeff in your life.”

Peter’s eyes brimmed with tears as he looked at his friend. He wiped them away with the back of his hand. “Look at me, blubbering like a kid. I should be happy for you and David—and I am. I’m just being selfish.”

“No you’re not. We both want the same thing. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out that way.”

Peter put his arms around Andrew, trying to push away the feeling of depression that had settled on him. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time. He had wanted to tell Andrew about Joey, but he couldn’t do that now. Andrew had too much on his mind. So Peter hugged his friend and remained silent.

“We’re not going right away,” Andrew was saying. “Probably in a couple of weeks or so. And we’re going to rent out the townhouse. We don’t want to sell it.”

“Good, then I know you’ll be back one day.”

“And you and Jeff will have to come out to visit as often as you can.”

“Of course we will. I love New York at Christmas time. We’ll plan on it.”

Andrew’s news almost made Peter forget he’d promised to call Emily and arrange her first portrait sitting. After hunting around for a few minutes, he found the number Jerry had jotted down for him and quickly dialed the number. Emily answered almost immediately, as if she had been sitting by the phone.

“Hi Emily, this is Peter Brandon.”

“Oh, hello Peter.”

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, no, I’m sorry if I sound put out. It hasn’t been a good day.”

“For you and me both.” Peter chuckled, trying to draw her out a little. “I’m calling to see if you’d like to meet with me sometime this week so we can get a start on your portrait.”

“That would be nice.” Her voice sounded flat and somewhat disinterested.

“Any day
not
good for you?”

“You set the time and day and I’ll fit it in, don’t worry.”

“Fine. What if you come over here to my studio tomorrow afternoon. Say…two o’clock?”

“That sounds good.”

Peter gave her the address and directions, then added, “Are you all right Emily? You sound really down.”

“I’m sorry Peter. I’m all right, really. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.”

Frowning, Peter put his phone down. He wondered if he should call Gloria to see if she knew what was bothering Emily, but then decided it was none of his business. After all, he’d only met the girl the other night. For all he knew she could be the moodiest person in the world; up one day—down the next. However, he couldn’t forget the connection he’d felt with her.
Something
was troubling her, of that he was certain. And hadn’t Gloria hinted at some problem Emily had been through? Perhaps she’d open up over the course of time it took to paint her portrait. A few well-chosen questions might get her talking.

He frowned as he suddenly thought,
I’m beginn
ing to see dark shadows in everyone’s
life!

§ § § §

Emily sat quite still on the edge of her bed after talking with Peter.

She’d had a bad night’s sleep, the second in a row, waking at odd hours and immediately worrying over the way her father had behaved at Gloria’s party. She knew this was never going to get better. Her father was out to prove he still had the upper hand and that she was still the obedient daughter.

A part of her was, even now, afraid of him.

Not physically, not anymore, but she knew he was capable of letting Jerry know, in some way, just what kind of hold he had over her. There was no point in trying to enlist her mother’s help. She had long ago become the invisible woman in the family. Her opinion, if she had one, went for naught as far as her husband was concerned. He had beaten her will down a long time ago. She was stiff and silent, showing no affection towards either of her daughters. Her maternal feelings were reserved solely for her son, Anthony.

In her mind both her daughters had replaced her as the object of her husband’s desire. She had lived in a loveless marriage, knowing her husband sought his sexual fulfillment with his daughters. Emily had never been able to understand how her mother could have gone on ignoring the situation. Why had she never done anything to stop it? Why had she not scooped her daughters up in her arms and left home forever? Was she that silly and weak?

Emily had tried many times to justify her mother’s actions, but could not. She would probably never have the answer to why her mother had not tried to save them, as she was never going to acknowledge her daughters’ pain. And now that Paula was in total denial of the entire situation, Emily would never be able to confront her parents with any kind of support. She was terrified of her father’s mood swings and drunkenness. He was capable of almost anything when he became as vicious as he’d been the night before.

How would Jerry react to knowing of her father’s perversion? Would his love for her be enough at that point to live with the knowledge that his wife-to-be had been molested for years by her own father? Jerry was a sweet and kind man, but were there limits to what he might be able to ignore in spite of his love for her?

It would be best that he never found out.

§ § § §

Joey could not believe he was being kept waiting—again. Glancing at his watch, he muttered under his breath as he paced restlessly across the studio floor. Bitterly, he reflected that it used to be
him
who kept his dates waiting, not the other way around. Recently however, he had found himself more and more under the sway of his new lover—if lover he could call him. Yes, they made love—wild, passionate love. At the thought of it, Joey’s body trembled with desire. But where was the affection afterwards? He wanted to lie in bed with him after the sex, caress that perfect body, run his hands over that smooth, warm skin, and hold him tightly in his arms murmuring words of endearment and promise. He’d never felt this way about any man before, but now that he was ready to give his heart, he had a terrible premonition that it would be broken.

Adam didn’t seem capable of showing he cared after the sex. He was up and out of the bed immediately after, pulling on his clothes and leaving Joey with a curt, “I’ll call you,” as he left.

He looked at his watch again. Where the hell was he? Could that bastard,
Bob
, have been right about seeing him out with someone else last night? Joey hated being in this position. It was foreign to him. He was usually the one in control. But damn it, he loved him so much.

He sighed with relief as he heard the door to the reception area open—and there he was, his tall leanly muscular body slouched against the doorframe in an arrogant pose. He walked slowly toward Joey, a little smile playing around his lips, obviously enjoying the effect his presence had on the man. All Joey’s petulance drained away as strong arms enfolded him. This was no time for recriminations. Here before him, was the object of his desire, and Joey’s blood ran hot in his veins at his touch.

“Oh, Adam,
mi amor
. Thank God you’re here.”

The heat of Adam’s lips scorched the skin on his throat. Their bodies pressed hard against each other and Joey almost cried out in ecstasy as lust and need flooded through him. He sank to his knees, freeing Adam’s erection from the confines of his jeans. As he took the hot, hard flesh between his lips, he looked up with adoration, and was rewarded by the beatific smile that transfigured Adam’s face into an almost angelic expression of pure joy.

You are still mine
, Joey thought with a quiet triumph.
Still mine!

CHAPTER SIX

Peter poured Jeff and himself a couple of Scotches. “So, tell me everything.”

“Gosh,
pushy
aren’t we?” Jeff took the proffered glass.

“No, just nosey. After all, it’s not every day I send you off in the morning to meet with a former lover. One, who by all accounts, still seems to be warm for your form.”

Jeff laughed as he clinked his glass against Peter’s. “Okay babe, you can un-arch those eyebrows now.” He brushed Peter’s lips lightly with his own. “You’ll be happy to know that I was able to resist Joey’s considerable appeal once more. The biggest surprise,” he added as he leaned back on his barstool, “was the fact he has two studies of me on show in his studio.”


Nude
studies?”

“Uh, well yes. How did you guess? In one of them I’m nude, but you can’t see anything.”

Peter chuckled. “That’s got to disappoint a lot of people.”

“You think?” Jeff grinned at him. “Of course, he didn’t tell me that Bob Thomson, his landlord and the one he owed the money to, is actually his ex-boyfriend —a pretty pissed off ex-boyfriend at that.”

“Joey doesn’t seem to be the nicest guy in the world, does he?”

“You’re right, he’s not. He’s a user, first and foremost. Everything for Joey. Now he’s flaunting a new guy in Bob’s face. He showed me pictures of him—quite stunning, but very young.” Jeff paused, his brow wrinkling.

“What’re you thinking?”

“Oh, nothing really. It was just the guy in the photos reminded me of someone, but I still can’t figure it out. It’s going to bug me ‘til I do.”

“Ready for my news?” Peter launched into it before Jeff could respond. “Andrew and David are moving away.”

“You’re kidding. Why?”

“David got this huge promotion, in New York. They’re moving in a couple of weeks.”

“Wow. Are you upset?”

“I am, but this is really great for them. And we can visit. I was already thinking of Christmas in New York.”

“Still, you and Andrew have grown so close—you’ll miss your buddy.”

Peter sighed. “Yes, I will. Thank God I have you.”

Jeff put his drink down and wrapped Peter in his arms. “You’ll always have me, Peter. You know that, don’t you?”

Their kiss was long and sweetly passionate and both men felt the first ripple of desire. Jeff unbuttoned Peter’s shirt, then lowered his head to nuzzle Peter’s nipples.

Peter moaned. “Keep doing this and you’ll never get any dinner…”

“Then I’ll just have to eat
you
up.” Jeff’s voice was muffled as he buried his face inside Peter’s shirt. They both groaned as the phone rang and Jeff reached out to grab it from the kitchen counter. He raised his head from Peter’s chest.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Andrew.”

“Hey, what’s up?”
It’s Andrew
, he mouthed at Peter. “Congratulations to David, by the way.”

“That’s why I’m calling. I know it’s a little late to be asking, but we wanted to take you guys out for dinner tonight—to celebrate?”

“Sure, uh, let me just check with Peter.” Peter nodded after Jeff had explained the invitation. “That’ll be fine, Andrew.”

“Great. We’ll pick you guys up in an hour.”

“See you then. Bye.” Jeff put the phone down then gave Peter a sexy smile. “We still have an hour.”

BOOK: A Portrait of Emily
7.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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