My alarm clock raged for ten minutes before I deemed it worthy of my attention. That was only after pulling my pillow over my head and then attempting to block out the sound in whatever way possible. Finally I submitted, pulling myself up by my forearms and smacking the alarm until it stopped its yapping. I forced myself to sit up after that, allowing the blood in my body to rush to my toast and nearly caused me to pass out. I stand after a near fainting experience and flop over to the window, no doubt giving New York city a grand view of my tits as they hang loosely from my oversized shirt. The smell of breakfast draws me into the kitchen in little more than a thong and that oversized shirt. After entering the kitchen I realize it's not my oversized shirt. Julian stands in at the stove shifting eggs back and forth in a pan, as naked as the day he was born. I stand back for a moment to gawk at the tone muscles of his back and forearms as they work back and forth. Something inside of me growls loudly getting his attention, and I can not honestly say if it was my sex drive growling or my stomach.
"Good morning my lady, breakfast in bed, well out of bed. As usual." Julian smiles as he plates the eggs and bacon he has made and plops the two plates down on the table.
I approach slowly, still staring at his form. Julian and I have been a "thing" for going on four years. He's a switch, who more often than not prefers to be dominant, or to be a neutral and not really care who takes charge. I am not much of a switch and prefer to keep my bedroom as well as most of my life, firmly under my control. But with him, things are different, I don't have to be strong all the time. He comes over at least three times a week, when he knows I will not be late at the "office". We fuck most of the time, mostly because my profession demands I be a domonant not a hore. I never really get much action in that department, unless they sign a particular waver and I have agreed to it and blah blah blah. Julian takes care of my sexual needs. Things that are not easily satisfied by my everyday work. Things such as making me an after fucking, thank you for not throwing me out of the house when I showed up at 3 am hell bent on getting into your bones omelette. *hint hint, I don't like to be woken up* At the thought I take a deep breath and pull the omelette in through my nose before even picking up my fork.
He disappears for a moment, and comes back with pants on, much to my dismay. As naked bodies and dicks go his is bordering on the godlike spectrum. Perfectly proportioned and completely adequate at all manners of foreplay. He raises one light brown eyebrow as I glare, he sits down anyway, pants still on.
"I have to wear pants eventually, Daria." He mutters, taunting me.
"Not..." I shovel some eggs into my mouth "in my house, ya don't"
He smiles as he digs into how own plate of eggs, hazel eyes squinted in delight. I lightly kick him under the table and he opens one eye glare for a moment before squishing them shut and playing a game of how much eggs can I get in my mouth. He stops at one point and opens his eyes, as if remembering something.
"Oh, by the way. A man came by earlier today, he had a letter for you." He smiles after saying that and goes back to his plate.
"A letter?"
"Yep."
"Can I see it?"
For some reason that thought had not crossed his mind and he hurried to shovel the last bit of eggs in his mouth before rushing off to the next room. He came back moments later with a light gray envelope. On it read "To Miss. Manix" . The envelope itself was exquisite, glowing in the light and possessing a good bit of weight. I allowed Julian to sit down before I opened it. The letter inside was gold, and seemed to glow as I pulled it from its sleeve. On it read:
Dear Miss. Manix,
I hope this letter finds you in good health, and in a good enough position to accept a job proposal we have for you in Paris. You can meet with our representative at your office this evening if our proposal is intriguing enough to you. All expenses will be paid for including housing and food as well as clothing and your fea. Please see Mr. RIchard Morris in your office to discuss the particulars of your job and your stay.
Good day madam,
HWR
"Oh hell no." said Julian, reading from across the table. "That sounds like a kidnapping waiting to happen."
I stuck my bottom lip out as I slid the letter back in its case. "Our you scared some big rich man is going to take me away from you?"
He rolled his eyes "If you had asked to go to Paris, I would have taken you."
"Oh so you are jealous that I might go to Paris without you?"
I stopped at my words, realizing how close they were to the question that I really wanted to ask. But I couldn't say it. Instead I just stood up and took my plate to the kitchen without another word or glance back in his direction.
"Baby?" he moans "come on." he stands arms open to give me a hug, that I doge.
"No, we can't. We have talked about this Julian. It just can't happen." I strut towards my walk in closet and almost make it before hearing.
"If I said I loved you would it change anything?"
I froze.
"It would not stop me from leaving if I wanted to take the job." I spun around "It would not stop me from fucking some other man or woman who wanted me to who would help me get an edge up for a job."
He walked towards me, stopping a few feet away "I have never asked of you anything that you can not provide. I know you have to be free with your body. I know what you do for a living. I don't hold it against you. But I do hold the fact that you think we can never be together because of it." he pauses. "I love you. Why is that not enough?"
I took a large deep breath. It is too fucking early in the morning to be talking about our feelings.
"Let me just say, I have demons in my past. And they would use you to hurt me."
"I can take it."
"We shall see about that. Now can I get dressed mister feelings?"
"Yes ma'am you may."
With that I slid off into my closet, sorting through my various black and red dresses to find the best battle dress, to scare the shit out of this representative. There is no way, i'm going back to Paris.