BLYSS (Blyss Trilogy #1) (2 page)

“How about the day after I graduate college?” I tease. Over the past year, it seems as if I’ve developed a bit of separation anxiety, and I’m trying desperately not to have a meltdown. When Adam pulls my body closer to his, he wraps his hands around my waist possessively and nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck. Kissing me there, he then works his way to my ear, knowing this is my Achilles heel, my most-sensitive erogenous zone. It unravels me every time, and he uses it like a secret weapon. I shiver and feel goose bumps race across my arms.

“I’d marry you tomorrow, if I didn’t think your father would have me tied to a guillotine and serve my head on a platter for dinner,” he whispers, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine.

A blaring voice interrupts our little interlude as the intercom speakers reverberate throughout the terminal of Logan Airport. “Flight 964 to Atlanta is now boarding.” The voice repeats its announcement again, and I close my eyes and groan. Not wanting to leave him just yet, I trap him by interlocking my fingers tightly behind his neck. Sighing, I lay my head against his hard chest in defeat. He strokes my back tenderly, trying to calm my nerves and ease me into our impending separation. I breathe in his scent, committing it to memory.

“It will be all right; two months is a drop in the bucket compared to a lifetime with you,” he whispers into my ear. Then I feel Adam reluctantly pulling away from me. I open my blurry eyes when he lifts my chin, and a single tear slips from the corner of my eye.
 

“You better get going. You don’t want to miss your flight,” he says huskily, and then he wiped away my tear.

“And how would that be a bad thing?” I sniffle, trying to be strong.

He expels a burst of air from his lungs and gives me a forced grin. “It won’t be that bad, Jules. Your dad cares in his own way. I don’t even think he realizes how restraining his demands are on you. It’s probably just his personality; since he’s running a global empire, he’s used to laying down rules at every turn. He’s had to be hardcore to become the success he is today.” He lets go of my chin and places his hand back around my waist, pulling me in tightly. “But you already know all that. You know he loves you, and I know he means well.” He pauses, giving me a dazzling smile. “Look at it this way: if he didn’t send you away to boarding school, we would have never met.” I nod my head in agreement. That is so true, and I give him a shaky smile.
 

I let my body relax into his as my fingers find themselves entwined behind his neck, and I lean in for a kiss. Adam stands over six feet tall and has the physique of a lean swimmer. He’s lithe and sexy, and I love running my fingers through his blond tousled hair every chance I get.

His leans in for a kiss, gently brushing our lips together, but I don’t want another chaste kiss. This one has to last me for almost two months. My tongue traces the seam of his lips, asking permission to deepen the kiss, and I hear him growl. He opens his mouth, and when his soft tongue meets mine, my belly dips. In a split-second, he takes over with a forceful and heated kiss.
 
He’s so damn good at this; the way he’s kissing me, I expect to hear someone hollering out at any moment for us to go get a room. His breathing picks up, and I know he’s turned on. I let out a small whimper as I feel the familiar butterflies take flight low in my belly.
My God, I love this man.

Adam breaks the kiss, breathing heavily against my lips. He chuckles as he leans his forehead against mine. “I have to be able to walk out of here, you know.” I grin; I love knowing I have this effect on him. “I will be there for your big birthday bash—your big two-one. You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
 

“I will be marking the days off my calendar, Adam. You’ll call or text me every day, right?”

He gives me his megawatt smile, and I melt. “You know it, babe. Now, go on, get.” He playfully smacks my ass and I jump back with a squeal.
 

“Okay, okay.” I reluctantly turn around and make my way to the ticket counter. There is no longer a line, since I’ve procrastinated so long. I walk right up to the flight attendant, who presents me with a genuine smile I don’t feel like returning. I look down, digging into my purse in search of my ticket. “There you are,” I mumble to myself, and I hand it over to her. I swallow down the large lump beginning to form in my throat as I watch the attendant scan my ticket under the sensor.

“Have a great day, and thank you for flying with us,” she says cheerfully. My feet are frozen in place, so I have to force myself to take a few steps forward. I hesitate and turn around, needing a last glimpse of Adam. He forces a smile and holds up two fingers, wiggling them, indicating I’ll see him in two short months. I blow him a kiss and reluctantly turn around on my heels, dragging my feet down the narrow hallway.
 
When I reach the threshold of the airplane, I steal a deep breath then trudge forward.
 

The one thing I am looking forward to this summer is that my father has planned an extravagant twenty-first birthday celebration for me. For those who couldn’t afford their own airplane ticket, my father is picking up the tab. Trust me—he can afford it. He’s owned his own global empire since way before I was born.
 

When people ask me what Dad does for a living, I take a deep breath and begin to rattle off a memorized spiel: his company offers innovative equipment, products, and services in applied sciences and medical diagnostics. Are you thinking, “
Huh?
Right now?” Yeah, exactly what I say! I don’t think I will ever be able to wrap my head around what it is he really does.

When people are further intrigued, I have another memorized pitch that should confuse anyone who isn’t a science professor. I toss in big words such as molecular biology, genetic analysis, proteomics, and so forth. You get the idea. I have no clue what I’m saying either, but it appears to put a lid on people asking me any more questions.
 

Dad doesn’t trust the digital age either, even though he has to use it for his line of work. Being the CEO of his own company, he goes to great lengths to protect his privacy and abhors any aspect of the government who uses their resources to infringe upon it. He even went so far as to tell me I couldn’t have a Facebook account.
Really?
I found myself creating one anyway, under an alias. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?

I make my way down the crowded aisle looking for my window seat. I’m sure you’re wondering why a rich kid like me isn’t flying First Class. Better yet, why aren’t I flying in a private jet? It’s simple; I’ve never wanted to become the spoiled rich brat. I’ve had plenty of exposure; growing up in elite boarding schools, I had to rub elbows with those types of people. Geez, the things I dealt with—I swore an oath to myself I would never allow myself to become one of those shallow people. I lost count of how many times I’d been backstabbed by a rich snooty-patooty.
 

When I try exerting my own independent streak, my father and I seem to go round and round. Sometimes, he gets downright furious with me when I try bucking his authority for something I believe in. I do try to be respectful of his wishes, but sometimes he just goes so overboard and becomes unreasonably overprotective.

So, having to live at home during the summer is going to be a difficult challenge, to say the least. It just gets harder to deal with him the older I get. What does he expect anyway? With me having lived far away from home for so long, I’ve had no choice but to become independent. It quickly became second nature for me to make most of my own decisions.
 

I stow away my bag and slip over two sets of legs, trying not to fall on my fellow passengers. I sit down in the window seat, blowing the hair out of my eyes and buckling in.
 

I understand why Dad is so overprotective; I truly get it. It’s because I’m all he has left in this world. Rumors spread after my mother’s death that it was foul play, but there was no way to prove it. She passed when I was almost two years old from a heart condition. It’s taboo to discuss her, so we don’t. Dad has never remarried, saying he didn’t have a desire to and that I’m all he’ll ever need. Ever since I could remember, he’s called me his princess. He made it my nickname, going so far as to embarrass me in front of my friends by only calling me by the endearment. When I was younger, I used to believe he didn’t even know my real name, but of course, after finding myself in trouble, I discovered he was aware my name is Julianna Oakley.

Dad changed at some point along the way, though, and I believe he changed for the worse. We used to be very close, especially after my mother passed away. It was around the time I turned nine when I found he was becoming more and more distant. A couple of years later, I found myself miles away in a boarding school. I lived at a private Massachusetts boarding school from the seventh grade on. He enrolled me in some of the finest, most-elite schools the country had to offer.
 

Once I got over the initial shock of living so far away from home, it really wasn’t all that bad. I made a boatload of friends, and to avoid getting homesick, I kept myself busy with so many extracurricular activities it would make your head spin. I ventured from karate and self-defense lessons to donating my time to community service programs and hosting food drives.

Mindlessly, I find my left thumb has slipped under my first two fingers, playing with my engagement ring. I rub the band back and forth with the pad of my thumb as I begin reflecting back on Adam’s proposal—he proposed to me on Valentine’s Day—and I smile. He’s such a romantic.
 

When we first met, he was a sophomore at Harvard, just as I was wrapping up my senior year in high school. He was teaching a soccer camp I was enrolled in for the summer, and we bonded immediately. When our eyes locked for the first time, he seemed to speak to my soul; it was as if it could’ve been love at first sight.

The demands Harvard placed upon him were insane. We barely got to see each other during his college years. We’ve known each other for a little over three years now, but it has really been over the last one where our relationship has had the time to grow into something stronger. Ever since he graduated Harvard with a degree in architecture, he’s had much more time on his hands and the ability to pour his time and attentions into our relationship.
 

I was elated when he was able to secure a job in Boston with an architectural firm. It didn’t take him long to get that job, either; they hired him within a few weeks of graduation. With him living in Boston, it was only a short jaunt from my college to his door. If I wasn’t too bogged down with my own studies during the school year, I was usually able to see him almost every weekend.

I still have to be the one to visit him, however, since the college I attend is an all-girls school. I could’ve chosen to go to other, more-elite universities, but I didn’t really care so much about the name of the school as I did with needing to be closer to Adam in miles.

Next spring, I will be graduating from Wellesley College obtaining a Bachelor’s Degree in Liberal Arts. I’ve always loved everything to do with music and art. Seems I can’t even breathe if I don’t have music, a paintbrush, or a book at my fingertips.

I feel the turbulent jolt of the airplane as it dips from an air pocket, and I automatically find myself looking out the window. I let out a long, heartfelt sigh as I take in the view. Looking down from above the clouds, my problems seem so small compared to the world’s. I love flying, just so I’m reminded of how insignificantly small I am in the scheme of things.

My thoughts veer back to Adam again. I’m so glad he’s able to get almost two weeks off work to spend time with me in Atlanta. I’m really looking forward to having him there, especially for my birthday extravaganza. It’s going to be a blast. Since the eighties rock-and-roll era is my all-time favorite, my father booked a local band who will be playing songs by glam-metal bands for all of us.

I look down at my engagement ring as it glistens against the bright light streaming in from the plane’s window. I grin to myself. What Adam doesn’t know is that I’m planning to give him my virginity for my twenty-first birthday. I have been saving myself for the love of my life, and now that we are engaged, waiting until that special wedding day seems so trite. Adam is my happily ever after. I have been with Adam for years, after all, and the reality is over the past year, we have become extremely intimate anyway.

Every time we kiss, I feel a slow storm brewing deep inside, and it becomes more difficult to stop at second base. There are times we become so desperate for each other, we soon find ourselves at third base, and many times, I thought we were going to hit a home run. Adam, however, would never cross that line when we were in the throes of heated passion.
 

Not only is Adam a handsome man, he is honest, kind, and caring. He is willing to wait until we are married to make love for the first time. One of the things that first attracted me to him was his respect for me. He wasn’t like most of the boys I had dated, who wanted a home run after a couple weeks of dating.

Since I was sent to boarding school, I had always felt myself at a loss and starved of having a large family. I never got to know my extended family. We both dream of having at least a few of our own kids one day. He’s adamant that I be a stay-at-home mom when the time comes for me to become a mother. It won’t be for a good while, however, as I want to be selfish with his time, and also explore my career.