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Female Pisces Posts : 125
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Join date : 2011-10-16
Age : 22
Location : Daydreamin' about Mike...

That's Why I Love You - Page 4 Empty
PostSubject: That's Why I Love You   That's Why I Love You - Page 4 EmptyDecember 6th 2011, 9:33 pm

First topic message reminder :

Okay, this is my first ever fanfic, so please tell me if it sucks and I should stop writing, or if it needs work.

Note, I used angelpup's idea with the whole old friends meet up and fall in love thing. It's totally different though.

Michael's POV
"Damn," Quincy muttered under his breath. "Here comes the press, again. You ready Mike?"

"No," I muttered under my breath. Couldn't they leave me alone for even one minute?

"What?" Quincy asked.

I sighed, "Nothing."

"Mr. Jackson, Mr. Jackson! Tell us, how does it feel to have Thriller on top of the charts and possibly on the way to breaking a record?" They all crowded around me and Quincy, shoving mics in our faces and snapping a picture a minute. Even with my sunglasses on, I squinted. It was hard not to with all the flashbulbs popping.

"I, uh," I really was not in the mood to answer any more questions, so I looked over at Quincy and silently begged him to answer for me.

"Well," Quincy made it appear as though it was him speaking for himself. "It feels pretty good. It's always satisfying to know the fans are liking what we put out there. And now, if you kind people would excuse us-" I couldn't believe he said that with a straight face, "-we really have to get moving." Reluctantly, the press moved out of the way and we bolted for fresh air.

"Thanks, Quince," I said. I felt like such a wimp, not being able to stick up for myself.

"It's not a problem, smelly." he used my nickname and I smiled, "But you've got to stick up for yourself sometime. I can't keep coverin' for you." I hung my head in shame. I didn't want to make anyone mad if I said the wrong thing, and I really didn't want anyone to be disappointed in me.

His gaze softened. "I know what you're thinkin'." he said softly "Look at me. You won't be makin' anybody mad and you sure won't disappoint no one if you speak your mind." He tapped the side of my head. "There are good thoughts in there. Make 'em heard."

I grinned. Quincy was like a mind-reader. He somehow always knew what was on my mind. "Thanks, Quince. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Take care of yourself, Mike. See you tomorrow." He clapped my shoulder and turned to leave for home. A sudden breeze made me shiver. It was cold for this time of year, especially in California. I pulled my coat more tightly around me and allowed myself to immerse myself in watching the people walking past. Every once in awhile, I'd try walking up to someone to see if they'd want to be my friend. One of two things would always happen. I'd get along with them just fine for awhile, and then it would be, "Oh my GOD! You're MICHAEL JACKSON!!" And they'd basically dismember me and try to rip my hair out. Either that, or they'd stutter and giggle all over themselves, generally making normal conversation impossible. Don't get me wrong here. I loved performing and the sense of accomplishment, but God, sometimes it was just hard to be me."

"Great," I muttered sourly "Poor little me, right? Now I'm having a pity-oomph!" I was passing a bench, and not paying attention like I was, I tripped over someone's outstretched foot.

"Ouch!" yelped an obviously female, almost musical voice. I looked up from my crumpled heap on the pavement questioningly. I knew that voice.

I had been studying for my upcoming bar exam when someone tripped over my foot. I knew I shouldn't have had my foot out that far on the sidewalk, but I would have thought that any responsible, normal person would've seen it. It turned at a funny angle and I cried out in pain. Oh God, I think it's broken, I thought.

The man who tripped scrambled to his feet. "Oh, my gosh! I'm so sorry, I didn't see your foot I wasn't paying any attention..." he trailed off and his dreamy, dark brown eyes widened in recognition- wait a second! What was I thinking?! I didn’t even know this guy. At least I didn’t think I did…

"Emily?" the man asked disbelievingly, looking at my face with an intensity that almost made me squirm uncomfortably.

I gasped in recognition. "Michael? Is that you?" I discreetly and quickly looked him up and down. Yep, this was definitely Michael. He'd gotten a little bit taller, and his hair had changed from the poofy afro that I had loved to loose and kinky curls.

"Weren't you going to Harvard?" he asked, startling me out of my reverie. "You practically shoved your acceptance letter up my nose when it came in the mail!" There it was, the mischievous glint in his eye that I saw so often. When Michael had moved to California, I was his next door neighbor. We had hung out whenever he wasn't recording or touring.

I put my hands on my hips and communicated a silent, Excuse me? "Did not!" I rolled my eyes and punched him playfully on the arm. "But yeah, that was my initial plan. When I discovered that tuition prices were through the roof, and that I didn't want to travel all the way across the country, my plans changed. I applied to UCLA and got accepted there instead. Staying in California was a lot more convenient, especially when my dad got... sick." I quickly stopped speaking and looked down. This was not a subject that I wanted to talk about. Not now. "But how are you doing?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Your new album, Thriller, right? It's doing pretty well, I take it?"

"I guess so," he replied modestly, even though we both knew that it was on its way to breaking records. I must have done something right. I'm doing pretty good, except, you know, for the whole, fans-mobbing-me-if-I-so-much-as-poke-my-nose-out-the-door thing." He rubbed his neck and sighed. "It's insane." He looked struck by a sudden thought. "Oh, my gosh! Your ankle!" I noticed a definite throbbing in said ankle.

Slowly, and hissing with pain, I eked my shoe and sock off to find a clearly swollen ankle. "That's probably not a good thing," I said weakly, trying to make light of the situation.

"No kidding," Michael affirmed, concern written all over his face "We should get you to a doctor to get it checked out right away." I sighed in resignation. If there one thing I could not stand, it was being poked and prodded by doctors.

"Yeah, I guess so." I said reluctantly "But actually getting there is going to be somewhat of a problem." I reached over to pick up my books, but Michael beat me to it. "Mike!" I protested, reaching for my textbooks "Give me those!" He held them out of my reach. "Oh, gee, that's mature!" I grumbled.

"Let me help you," he said, reaching out to help me up. "The emergency room isn't that far from here." I hesitantly took his hand, and bolts of electricity shot up my arm on contact. When it became apparent that I couldn't put any weight on my ankle, he held out his arm, and I slowly reached out and took it, leaning into him.

Michael's POV I couldn't believe that I had probably broken a girl's ankle because I wasn't paying any attention to what I was doing! I was such a klutz!
Emily had changed a lot since she graduated. Her super frizzy hair, which I had liked and she had hated with a vengeance, had tamed down somewhat and she had it half pulled back, so that a single lock spilled across her face. I noticed that she had gotten contact lenses and started wearing light mascara, so that her luminescent green eyes seemed even wider. She had matured, um, a lot. Black dress pants and a flowing blouse showed just how much without being too revealing. I really liked it.

She shot me a glittering smile when she noticed me staring at her. I loved that smile, and had since the day I met her through the fence that separated our backyards. It made her entire face light up with an inner glow.

"How much farther, huh Michael?" she was starting to breathe a little heavily, and a little bead of sweat ran down the side of her face. I reached out and wiped it away.

"Not too much farther, Em," I said "Don't pass out on me, 'kay? Even as buff as I am, I'm not sure I can carry both you and your books." She bumped me with her hip, and I looked away to cover up a blush.

"Buff, sure." she snorted. I shot her my grieving puppy dog face. She started laughing, like a peal of bells "Sorry, Mike, it's just that you look so..." she started laughing again. I enjoyed her laugh, though I was nursing an injured pride.

We arrived at the emergency room and I slipped on a disguise before we went in. Emily shot me a questioning look.

"Do you want to be run over by hysterical fans?"

"When you put it that way, definitely not." she decided.

Thankfully, there were no stairs in the building and we made it to a waiting room without too much hassle. I helped her sign in and we took a seat. I tried not to look at her slender and long legs, but me being me, I failed epically.

"Ms. Byrne?" a nurse called.

My POV With a lot of help from Michael, I hopped back to to the room where the nurse poked and prodded at my ankle, drawing pained gasps from me.

"Does it hurt here?" She asked, poking a particularly tender spot.

"Yes," I hissed, grabbing Michael's hand tightly. When I realized what I was doing, I dropped it rather hurriedly.

"We should probably do an x-ray, miss," the nurse said, frowning in concern. It might be broken. She did the x-ray and we went back to the room to wait for it to be processed.

"Emily, I'm so sorry," Michael fretted "This is all my fault."

I wasn't about to let him take all the blame. "Not entirely," I said "I was the one with her foot out halfway across the pavement, remember?"

"Yes, but I was the one who wasn't looking where I was going," he insisted.

"Yeah, but-" I paused, trying to come up with a decent comeback. "Dang it! I've got nothing!" We started giggling like the two kids who used to giggle over insubstantial things in a tree house what seemed like forever ago. A sudden knock at the door brought us back to our senses.

"Well, Ms. Byrne, I have good news and bad news." he said pompously "Which-"

"I'd like to hear the good news first please," I said, quirking an eyebrow. "Tell it to me straight, doc. When do you operate?" Michael and I carefully avoided making eye contact, because it was a given that we'd burst out laughing if we did.

"Glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humor, miss," the doctor said stiffly. I could tell it was one of his first days on the job. "No, we aren't operating. As I was going to say, your ankle is not broken. However, it is severely sprained and you'll need a brace and crutches for at least a month, maybe more."

I swallowed a groan. I had my bar exam coming up soon and I didn't have a car, partially by choice, and partially due to heavy student loans. I just had a bike and my own two feet (now one foot and a pair of crutches).

He fit me with an ankle brace and crutches and sent me on my way. Once we got outside, Michael located the nearest pay phone, said a couple quick words into it, and hung up. When he noticed my confused expression, he shot me his trademark quirky lopsided grin. I dismissed the sudden beat my heart skipped.
"I called a limo," he explained. "Since it really is my fault that you hurt your ankle-" he clapped his hand over my mouth to stifle any protests "-I'm inviting you to dinner at my family's house. We're all going to be there."

At this point, I really had something to say, so I did the only thing that would make my cousins let go whenever we wrestled when we were little. I bit his hand.

Michael's POV

"Ouch!" I yelped and hurriedly pulled my hand off her face. "Did you seriously just bite me?" She grinned widely, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

"Well, I had to do something to make you let go, didn't I?" I wanted to be serious, but not laughing was proving to be very difficult. But then, a horrible thought entered my brain with the power of a lightning bolt.

"You're not going to say no, are you?" I asked in fear. I wanted her to come, if I ever got the guts to ask her out, I'd prefer to do so when my family already knew her. This was in part to spare her feelings, and mine. I really didn't want to endure the merciless teasing that was sure to ensue from my brothers.

"Aw Mike, of course not!" she put her hand on my arm, instantly setting off a flurry of butterflies in my stomach. "I want to meet your family, but to tell you the truth, I'm a little nervous." She gave a little smile, but I could see the nervousness in her eyes.

"You're not getting starstruck, are you?" I gently teased, trying to get her to feel better. "I mean, you're talking to the most famous popstar of the moment right now!"

"Oh shut up!" she laughed, whacking my ankle with her crutch and nearly going down again.

"I'm gonna have to be careful about what I say around you," I mused in mock seriousness, while catching her just in time to prevent an unfortunate faceplant "I can't afford to offend you, you might hurt yourself again!"

"Watch it, Jackson," she growled playfully "If I go down, you're coming with me."

At this point my mind decided to take a stroll toward the gutter. I managed to yank it back to more innocent thoughts with some difficulty. Now was not the time to be thinking like that.

The limo pulled up and I opened the door for Emily so she could get in. True to klutzy form, she caught her crutch on the curb and pitched forward. Thinking that a chipped and/or missing tooth or a black eye would probably be best avoided, I caught her and found my hands "accidentally" on her butt.


I felt two objects on my backside that felt suspiciously like Michael's hands. I snapped my head around and my eyes widened at the sight of a beet-red Michael hastily moving his hands so that they were supporting me from a less, um, awkward position.

"Sorry," he mumbled, his face still flaming red "My hands slipped."

I'll just bet they did, I thought. Michael jumped in the limo behind me and pulled the door shut. I didn't know why, but I hadn't actually minded Michael touching my butt. I didn't know exactly what I felt about it, but I knew I didn't not like it. Boy, are you in trouble, my conscience scolded me.

For a long time, we sat in silence, which gave me ample time to sneak peeks at him. I was sure it was all the dancing he was doing, because he was muscular. Not grossly "bodybuilder" muscular, but lithely muscled limbs, and if I wasn't mistaken, rock-hard abs. His baby-fat days were gone, the adorably round face that I used to pinch to tick him off was gone, and in its place was a lean, chiseled face that still dimpled when he smiled. No matter what he did, a few loose curls fell onto his forehead, just above eyes that were sweet, soulful, and seductive, all at once. Was that even possible? I pondered. And those full, juicy lips were lips that I could kiss all day- my thoughts, which had quickly been progressing in a direction that seemed inappropriate for friends, screeched to a halt. I really need to get my brain under control, I thought.

"So," Michael said somewhat awkwardly "When do you take the bar? I think you mentioned that it was soon."

"I take it next week, Thursday. That's what I was studying for, until a certain buffoon tripped over my foot. I poked his side and smirked at his immediate reaction.

"Uh-huh, and who had whose foot halfway out across the sidewalk?" He pinched my chin like he used to whenever he felt the extremely frequent urge to annoy the heck out of me. I thumped the side of his head playfully with my hand. "Oww," he whined.

I elbowed him in the ribs. "You are such a diva," I taunted with a grin.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

I decided to try a different tactic. "Are not!" I hid a triumphant smirk, waiting for the reaction.

"Am too!..." he paused in confusion, and then realization clouded his expression. "HEY!" I nearly fell off the seat laughing at his irate expression.

"It's not funny," he declared poutily, crossing his arms over his chest.

"If you could see your face," I giggled "You would laugh too."

The limo pulled up to the house that I had grown up next to, Hayvenhurst. (sp?)

Wow," I sighed, craning my neck to look out the window. I forgot how beautiful this place is!"

"Haven't you been home since you graduated?" asked Michael in confusion.

Yeah, but it wasn't a pleasure trip or anything," I whispered, overcome by a sudden wave of memories.


The winter break after I started college, I got a phone call from my mom. She was hysterical and could hardly speak.

"Emily, are you there? I need to talk to you!" She sobbed into the phone. My mom was a smart, strong individual. If something had upset her to this degree, it was serious, and since she was calling me, I knew I should be worried.

"Mom, it's okay. Calm down. I'm here," I tried to speak over her shuddering sobs, all the while holding the phone away from my ear. This was in part to avoid having my eardrums blown out, and a feeble attempt to distance myself for the incoming sad thing that she was about to tell me. "What's wrong?"

Y-your father," my stomach clenched in sudden fear, so strong that I felt sick "H-he overd-dosed on h-heroin..." she broke down again and was rendered incapable of speech for several minutes.

I fought down my own rising tidal wave of panic "Is he in the hospital?" In my heart, I already knew the answer, and it seeped through me like ice water.

"N-no! she wailed "He's d-d-dead!"

I dropped the phone and sat down hard, missing the chair. A dial tone let me know that my mom had hung up too. I sat there in stunned silence for an endless minute before I started crying hysterically.

My dad had gotten into the heavy drug use of the 60s quite a bit. It wasn't shocking to me like it should have been, since practically everyone else's parents were doing the same thing. A lot of my friends started doing it too, but I had vowed never to do drugs ever after I saw him so many times when he was high. I had tried to tell him to quit, but he'd just yell at me and tell me that I had no idea what he was going through and then he'd shut me out in an icy silence for days. He had lost his job and our family was struggling to make ends meet. Each week, we tried to estimate how much money we could use and still get by. We always went without something that was deemed too expensive.

When I came home for the funeral and wake, a shocking scene greeted me. My mother and sister were nothing but depressed shells of their former, vivacious selves. They never smiled, and were indifferent and apathetic about nearly everything.

I left as soon as the funeral was over, hoping to escape the looming cloud of depression that had settled so thickly over my once happy childhood home. That was the biggest mistake I ever made. I thought, it's no big deal, they'll pull through it, they're the strongest people I know, for God's sake! I had totally forgotten how much my mom and sister had loved and depended on my father. To them, he was practically the whole world. I should have stayed right there and tried to kindly force some sunshine and love into their lives.

Exactly one year after my dad died, my sister and mother were found in our garage with the car running and the door down. There was no note explaining things, but we all knew it was that they'd lost their will to live after he died.

I returned to my home once again, but this time for the funerals of the only family I had left.

I tried not to think about it too much, but at least once a week I had nightmares about it that would wake me up in a cold sweat with the remnants of a scream lingering on my lips.

End Flashback

Michael's POV

"Emily?" she was totally spaced out, "Hellooo? Earth to Emily?" I waved my hand in front of her face. When I had asked if she had been home since she graduated high school, her eyes sort of glazed over and she looked really sad. Grief didn't suit her face well; it made her look nearly ten years older.

She jumped when she finally noticed my hand waving in her face. "Sorry, Mike," she shook her head a little "I guess I was a little... distracted," she gave a strained little laugh that wasn't even an attempt to be cheerful. Something was hurting her, deep inside, but I didn't want to press her for answers. Not just yet.

"No prob," I waved it off and helped her out of the limo "You ready to meet the Jacksons?" a genuine smile touched her lips this time; I'd told her a lot about my family, but she'd never met them. She swung forward on her crutches. Thankfully, the sidewalk wasn't too long, and soon we were in the entryway.

I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted "Hey, everybody! I brought a guest!" A light blush dusted Emily's cheeks. That girl blushed more easily than anyone I had ever met. She shot me a that wasn't necessary glance. She hated to have all the attention drawn to herself.

My family came pouring out of the dining room. Janet faked a stern look at me "About time you got here, Mike. Marlon's got his eye on your plate." Marlon, who was just now coming out of the dining room, was finishing swallowing a huge bite of bread and mumbled "Wha'?" We all burst out laughing and that seemed to make Emily feel more at home.

Mother stepped up to me "Baby, who's this?" she asked.

I put a hand on Emily's arm "This is Emily. She and her family used to live next door to us, over there." I gestured in the general direction of her childhood home.

I must have mentioned Emily to Mother at least once, because she brightened in recognition "Oh! So you're the one who was so nice to Michael for all those years!" Emily smiled and held out her hand to Mother "It's so nice to meet you dear." Mother disregarded the hand held out to her and instead pulled Emily into a tight embrace. Her eyes widened in surprise; I felt a little guilty about not first warning her about my family's tendency to be overly touchy-feely.

“The Jacksons don't shake hands, we hug,” I explained apologetically “This is Jermaine, Marlon, Janet, Tito, Jackie, Rebbie, LaToya, and Randy.” Each of them stepped forward in turn to give her a hug. Most of them were warm hugs, but LaToya's was tinged with frost “And,” I concluded, trying to keep the reluctance out of my voice “This is our father, Joseph.”
Emily smiled tentatively, I'd told her about all the things that Joseph had done to us. She held out her hand, but he ignored it, remaining impassive, even a little angry “I never heard anything about a girl living next door, much less you being friends wit her, Michael.” I cringed at the venom in his voice. Emily looked to be confused, probably wondering what she had done to illicit such hate from a man she had never met.
“Please excuse Joseph,” I whispered to her “He has a minor rudeness problem.” Unfortunately, he heard me and shot me a glare that almost made me pass out. Luckily, I avoided it. At least I didn't puke in front of her, I thought.
We all made our way into the dining room and Mother hurried into the kitchen to fix a plate for Emily. She tried to get up to go help out, but Janet pulled her back into her seat.
“You're our guest. You don't need to fix your own meal,” I sent a smile of thanks to Janet across the table for trying to ease the tension that LaToya and Joseph had brought upon the house.

Michael's family was so nice! They were all polite and friendly to me, well, all except Michael's older sister LaToya and his father Joseph. I wasn't exactly sure why.

“So Emily,” Mrs. Jackson said “What are you doing now? Are you working, or are you still in school?”

“I'm currently in my last year of law school and preparing to take the bar, Mrs. Jackson,” I said.

“Please call me Katie or Momma dear,” she said, patting my arm “I want you to feel welcome here. After all, you're like family!” I smiled “That's so good for you, I'm glad you're succeeding.”

I took a bite of the food “Wow Katie, this is fantastic! Michael never told me that you could cook so well!” she lit up with a huge smile that reminded me of her son's own luminescent grin.

“Thank you sweetie,” she beamed. Joe shot me an ice cold glance and I averted my gaze uncomfortably. Why did he hate me so much? An awkward silence settled thickly over the table.

“So, uh,” Jermaine coughed uncomfortably “Do cars interest you at all, Emily?” Michael shot him a grateful smile.

“I don't know much about them, but I do like Mustangs,” I said. This was true; I knew next to nothing about cars. The location of the gas tank, and how use it was about as far as my vehicle education went. I liked Mustangs simply because of how they looked.

“Do you own one?” he asked. It was clear that he was a lover of cars, like most men, and liked to talk about their inner workings.

“No, I don't have a car,” I replied “Do you like them?” his eyes lit up and he grinned.

There was a collective groan from Michael's siblings. Apparently I had just brought up a taboo subject.

“Now you've done it, Emily,” Jackie moaned “You just had to ask about his favorite topic. Now he'll never shut up!” Jermaine punched Jackie's arm playfully and unfazed, launched into an intricate explanation about the interior workings of a Mustang.

“And then the engine, you know has a--” it went completely over my head. I decided that the best route of action would be just to smile and nod, which I did. He was just going into something about the wheels when he stopped short and looked at me with an amused expression on his face.

“You have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about, do you?” he asked, smirking.

Honesty was probably the best policy “Not a single iota,” I admitted. He chuckled.

“'Course, I wouldn't expect you to, you being a girl and all,” my eyebrows disappeared into my hairline. He saw the expression on my face and hastily backpedaled “Well, I mean, girls are good at some stuff, like singing and sewing--”

“And dancing!” Janet and I cut in at the same time “Jinx!” she shouted triumphantly “But yeah, Jermaine, girls can dance too, it's not just the boys.”

He scoffed at the idea “Please! It takes real muscle to dance like we do!” Janet's eyes narrowed to teasing slits.

“Was that a challenge, oh brother of mine?” she asked, poking his arm.

“No, but it is now! I challenge everyone that would like to participate to a dance off!” Michael grinned wickedly at his siblings, something told me that he had a few killer dance moves up his sleeve that would steal the competition. We all ran (well, I carefully hopped) upstairs to a room that had been set up as a performance area. The boys hastily slid all the furniture out of the way so that it was in jumbled heaps against the walls so that there would be adequate dancing space. Tito picked up a Jacksons record, slid it into the record player, adjusted the the sound system and turned the spotlights on. He and Randy got up to start dancing. For awhile they matched each other step for step, neither giving an inch. They both sweated profusely. It was a shame I couldn't compete with these guys. I would lose, but it would be fun. It was an integral part of their profession, I just did it for a hobby.

Randy was starting to wear out, and eventually he tripped over his own foot. Even though he was out of breath, Jackie still had the strength to good-naturedly tease his younger brother.

“Little rusty, Randy?” he puffed, clapping his little brother's shoulder. Randy tried to laugh, but he was too worn out.

“Your turn, Emily,” Janet said “I'm against you.”

“I'd love to, really but,” I gestured regretfully to my brace bound ankle “As you can see, I can't.”

Aw, man!” Marlon exclaimed “I wanted to see if white girls were any good at dancing!” Janet slapped his arm with a mortified expression on her face. She turned to me with an oncoming apology on her lips, but I shushed her and brushed it off.

“No, it's fine,” I said “Marlon, I give you my solemn word that as soon as the doctor okays my dancing on this ankle, I will challenge you to a dance competition. And win.”

He grinned “I'll remember that. But if you lose, you will never hear the end of it. Ever.” I grinned back and we shook hands.

The contest quickly progressed until it was just Michael and Janet. For awhile, they were able to keep up with each other. It almost looked like they were doing a routine. But Janet got tired and eventually Michael won. Big surprise there. They hugged and we all clapped for Michael. He looked at me over one of his sibling's heads and grinned lopsidedly at me. I felt my cheeks get warm.

Janet took one look at the grin on her brother's face and clapped a hand to her forehead. I wondered if it was due to the fact that she thought he looked stupid. Which he didn't, in my opinion he had a great smile.

“I forgot that I was supposed to help with the dishes!” she exclaimed, putting into voice the reason for slapping her forehead “Mike, come help me.” It wasn't really so much a request as it was a command. Before he could respond, she grabbed his wrist and proceeded to drag him down the steps, ignoring his feeble protests.

Michael's POV

“Janet, you know I hate doing dishes!” I said, trying to wiggle out of her iron grip to no avail whatsoever. For a younger sister, she was strong. Really strong. “Lemme go!” I protested. I could read pretty much all of Janet's facial expressions and most of them had a name. The one she shot me now was the shut-up-I-just-want-to-talk-to-you one. I allowed myself to be hauled down the stairs now, relieved that I wasn't going to be up to my elbows in bubbles.

Janet pulled me into the kitchen and closed the door. When she swung to face me, there was an interesting expression on her face, one that I couldn't identify. It seemed almost thoughtful.

“Mike, do you like her?” my eyes almost fell out of my head. Was I really that bad about wearing my heart on my sleeve?

My cheeks got hot “Was I really that obvious?” I asked, mentally slapping myself in the face. Great, just wonderful. Emily probably thought I was some insane, weirdo by now.

“Uh, kinda,” she said in her most no friggin' duh voice. I was equal parts horrified and mad until I noticed the joking sparkle in her eyes. Damn it, why did she always have to mess with my mind like that?

“Kidding, kidding,” she said with her hands up in a surrendering gesture “Just take a little advice from your kid sister and stare a bit less in the future, okay?” I nodded, feeling more than a little bit of an idiot about the whole thing.

“Hey,” her eyes softened “Don't worry about it. It's not like you scared her to the point of her running out of here screaming.”

I laughed at Janet's serious face “Yeah, guess that's true,” I admitted. I loved having a younger sister with a sense of humor that matched my own “Thanks, Dunk.”

She grinned and messed up my hair, causing me to chase her up the stairs “No problem!” she shouted down the steps.

Emily's POV

It wasn't too long before Janet and Michael came running back up the stairs. Michael appeared to be chasing Janet, and she sprinted through the room to hide behind me.

“Save me, Emily!” she shrieked, cowering behind my back. I threw my arms out wide dramatically.

“You'll have to go through me to get to her, Michael!” I said in my most theatrical voice.

“Okay,” he said and then began tickling Janet and me so vigorously that we collapsed in a pile of helpless laughter.

“No, Michael, please! Eeeeee!” I squealed. Soon everyone was joining in the mass tickle war, well, except for LaToya. Once the giggles subsided, Randy looked struck by a sudden thought.
“Hey, Emily,” he said, frowning “I meant to ask earlier, what happened to your ankle?” The rest of Michael's siblings murmured and nodded in assent. I looked over at Michael, whose eyes had suddenly become wide and pleading. I hoped that I could convincingly leave him out of this. God only knew that his brothers would never leave him alone about it.

“You guys are never gonna believe this, it's so klutzy,” I began and Michael's gaze locked with mine again. I lifted my chin almost imperceptibly, indicating that I wouldn't spill. He relaxed his shoulders and let out a little breath that he probably didn't even know he had been holding “I tripped down the stairs of the campus library and landed on my ankle.” Incredulous stares met mine “No, really! One of my friends bumped into me and my balance was really off because of the massive load of books in my arms.” Janet and Rebbie murmured sympathetically, LaToya continued to pretend that I wasn't there, and the boys all bit their lips to hide smirks.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead. Laugh!” I swatted the nearest shoulder to me which happened to belong to Tito. He howled in fake pain and rolled around on the floor, clutching his “injured” shoulder.

LaToya had evidently had enough of me because she stood up in a huff and flounced out of the room and down the stairs, slamming the door behind her. It echoed with a resounding boom. I ran over all the things that I had said earlier in the night mentally, wondering what I could have said to possibly insult her. I hadn't actually said anything to her directly, or indirectly for that matter.

“What's up with her?” I posed the question to everyone in the room.

“Oh, she's just in another one of her many moods,” Michael waved it off “I wouldn't worry about it, 'Toya's never in the same mood for more than a few hours, at best.” So, basically, she was on a permanent PMS? Lovely. That had to be bucket-loads of fun.

Janet piped up “Somehow, all the variations of her many moods seem to revolve around sarcasm, anger, moodiness, and not speaking to someone,” she shook her head “It's amazing to me that she still comes up with new ones.”

“It takes skill,” Jermaine said, stretching out on the floor and putting his hands behind his head “But that's not a skill you'd want to have. Not like my good looks.” he said with a satisfied smile. Jermaine seemed like a cool guy, but like a lot of people, he had some major ego issues. Rebbie rolled her eyes at the egotistical remark.

“What looks?” she quipped, and ducked when Jermaine chucked his shoe at her. It flew over her head and hit the wall with a loud thunk. A moment went by in ringing silence, the kind that makes your ears buzz, and then we all burst out laughing.

We continued on like this for several hours, talking, laughing, and teasing. Sometime during this, I realized that the hollow, empty feeling that made my chest ache for most of the time was mostly gone. Huh, maybe being around these guys helps, I thought.

A loud yawn from Michael mid-sentence prompted Marlon to look at his watch “Yeesh!” he exclaimed “It's already twelve thirty!” Well, that explained why I was suddenly hardly able to keep my eyes open.

“I should probably be heading home,” I said ruefully “I've got class tomorrow!” I remembered with a groan.

“It's been really great to meet you, Emily,” Janet got up to give me a hug “Come visit again sometime, yeah?”

“I'll think about it,” I teased. It certainly wouldn't be any trouble to come back, I felt right at home.

Michael stood up “I'll drive you home,” he said.

“Well,” I said hesitantly “If it's not too much trouble.” I didn't want to be any more of a burden than I already was.

“I think you misheard my thought,” he said with a grin “That wasn't a request. I could make it a demand, if you want.” suddenly a few obscene thoughts made their way into my brain and I shoved them away with some effort “It's no trouble, come on,” he said opening the door for me. He put a hand on my arm to help me down the stairs, and once again I felt a zip of electricity run up my arm. I took one last look around the room and saw Janet giving Michael a significant look, one that he was dutifully ignoring. I wonder what that was for? I questioned.

Once we got to the kitchen door, Katie popped her head out “Thanks for coming, sweetie. Don't you ever hesitate to come back.” I started to smile and respond, but it was interrupted by a huge yawn. I stared at my feet, embarrassed. Katie laughed “Michael, get this girl home before she tips over and falls asleep!” she swatted his arm. Michael gave a snappy salute and clicked his heels before turning and leading me out the door.

We got into the car, and thankfully, none of the things that happened the last time we were in a car together happened. I was exhausted, and not long after the car started up I fell into a deep sleep, lulled by the gentle rocking motion of the car.


I was back in my parents' house. This was really strange, seeing as I hadn't been there for quite some time. Wandering tentatively around the house, I examined everything. I appeared to be alone.

A noise drifted from the general direction of my parents' room. Suddenly wary, I crept down the hallway, taking care not to make any noise. I snaked my fingers around the door and inched it open. A man sat on the bed. With a sizable amount of relief, I saw that it was my father.

“Dad?” I asked, moving into the room. He looked up. His face was drawn, his eyes sunken. This wasn't the father of my early childhood. This was the drug addict father that I left to go to college. My stomach jolted sickeningly when I saw the needle in his hand and the tourniquet around his arm. No, I thought wildly, This can't be happening.

“Dad, no!” I exclaimed “This stuff can kill you! It's bad for you!” he scoffed at me, but it came out sounding more like a weak cough. My heart shattered into tiny pieces.

And then he broke it a little further “I need this stuff to survive. You don't know what I go through! You don't have a single clue!” I winced at the rasp and pain in his voice.

“Dad,” my voice cracked and almost broke, but I struggled against the overwhelming compulsion to drop at his feet and sob my eyes out “You can get help, you can find other ways to cope. Don't do this. Please.” my eyes welled up and I allowed tears to leak from them silently.

For a moment, it looked like he wanted to believe me, that he wanted to change. But then his eyes hardened and he stabbed the needle into his arm and pushed its contents into his bloodstream expertly.

I screamed as he fell back on the bed, twitching violently. His back arched and with one final spasm he was still. I ran to his side and probed his neck for a pulse. There was nothing there. Just the cooling skin of a person who has recently left this earth. I sobbed as I pushed his hair back from his face and closed his now glazed over eyes.

“Dad,” I choked thickly through a haze of tears “Dad, no! Please come back, I need you. I love you! Come back!” I cried into his chest

“Emily, Emily!” a distorted, muffled voice called my name, over and over again.

End Dream

Michael's POV

Emily must've really been exhausted, because she fell asleep right after the car started moving. Her head tipped toward the window, and soon she was propped up against it. Her face was peaceful with sleep and I couldn't help but watch her breathe in and out, her soft pink lips parted slightly. I wanted to lean over and kiss them right then and there, but I had to keep my eyes on the road or we'd crash. I tried to remember to keep my eyes forward, but they flickered to her slumbering form often.

Her tranquil state didn't last long, though. Soon her eyebrows furrowed and she began to mutter, moving back and forth a little. I didn't think too much of it until she jerked and screamed. It was a scream of pain, of sadness, of loss. I yanked on the wheel and pulled over to the side of the road. She was still screaming and crying, lashing out against the restraining seatbelt. Unbuckling from my seat, I reached over, released her seatbelt, and took her shuddering, spasming form into my arms.

“Emily, Emily! Come on, wake up! It's just a dream, Em!” I said, patting her cheeks lightly. Her eyes flew open wide. They had a wild and frightened look in them. She didn't look like herself.

“I—what—Michael?” she stammered. Her hair fell across her face and I gently pushed it out of her eyes.

“Yeah, it's me. You were having a bad dream.” I said, using my thumbs to wipe of the tears that had appeared on her face. She was still breathing hard, taking big, heaving gasps to try to steady her galloping pulse.

“I kinda figured as much,” she said dryly, trying in vain to inject some humor into the situation. Emily could never stand a tense moment, she always tried to make it more lighthearted. At that moment, I realized that that was one of the many things I liked (loved?) about her.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

She confirmed my suspicion about her reply “Not especially. Where are we anyway?” she craned her neck and arched her back so as to see out the window better. My eyes wandered up her lean torso and rested somewhere north of her belly button and south of her chin. In case you're wondering, it wasn't her neck I was now oggling, thankful for the cloak of darkness to hide the direction my stare was in.

“We're over by UCLA,” I answered, reluctantly tearing my eyes away from her chest and looking her in the eye again “I was gonna wake you up, I'm not sure exactly where to go from here.” she peered out the window again before answering me.

“It's not too much farther from here. Go down two blocks and hang a left, my duplex building is the third one down the street, and mine is the one on the left.” I pulled the car back onto the road.

“Okay, gotcha.” I said. For the remainder of our car ride, we were entirely silent. I kept sneaking glances at her and something told me that she was doing the same.

A few minutes later, we pulled in to her driveway. I got out and held her door open for her. She swung her crutches out and pulled herself out of the car. I walked her to the door. She opened it and turned to go in, but at the last second she turned back to me.

“Thanks for inviting me to dinner, Mike,” she murmured, sending a wave of shivers over my skin. Her green eyes sparkled softly in the lamplights. Instinct took over at this point. I leaned closer to her.

“No problem.” Before I could stop myself, I found my lips on hers. She stiffened for a minute, and then returned the kiss with tender passion. Her soft lips moved gently on mine and I cupped her face in hands, running my fingers along her face like a blind person reads braille. It felt like her mouth was made to meld with mine. After what seemed like eternity she broke away, breathing heavily.

“I guess I forgot to tell you that I've loved you for a long time, huh?” I asked, one of my hands still on her face.

“Yeah, you did,” she chuckled “You're forgetful, but you know what?” she asked, pulling me close again “That's what I love about you.” our mouths meshed for the second time that night. Much too soon, she pulled away and headed inside. I stood on her stoop with a bewildered expression on my face. I'd wanted to do that since I was about seventeen, and the truth is that it was better than I'd ever dreamed it would be.

I drove home in a fog, thoughts swirling through my head at an alarming rate. When I got in the door, it wasn't a surprise to see that Janet had waited up for me. She took one look at me and gave a low chuckle.

She stood up and walked over to me “You,” she said, putting a hand on my shoulder “Are SO in love.” That couldn't have been truer.

Last edited by MJJsGirl4Life on April 30th 2012, 11:04 pm; edited 8 times in total
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PostSubject: Re: That's Why I Love You   That's Why I Love You - Page 4 EmptyMay 3rd 2012, 9:45 am

I rather hve many fake flings and pretend them to be real then hav 1real love that you hav to pretend its hurt is fake.
High school is proven to suck and be stressful as hell.
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PostSubject: Re: That's Why I Love You   That's Why I Love You - Page 4 EmptyMay 31st 2012, 10:18 pm

Well, after yet another extensive break I got off my lazy ass and wrote another update. It's got a sex scene and it's long, so I hope it makes up for it Smile

Emily's POV

I was so sorely tempted to flop down on my bed, do a faceplant in my pillows, and scream like a teenager after her first date. I'd had a crush on Michael ever since I'd started noticing boys. But I was a really shy person and never had wanted to make the first move.

Unfortunately, flinging oneself face-first onto a bed when one has a sprained ankle and crutches doesn't work out very well and I settled for slipping into my pajamas and gently easing myself into bed, burrowing my face in the pillows with a huge grin stretching from ear to ear. My dreams were sweet that night.

The next few days went by in a rushed blur; I was studying my butt off for the bar exam and in between my frenzied study sessions I was on the phone with Michael or phoning the dance studio I started and inquiring how the classes that I normally taught were progressing. Thankfully, I got my brace off with the warning that I should go easy on my ankle the day before my exam.

It was now Thursday morning, the morning of my exams. My stomach was amusing itself by twisting and untwisting and making eating breakfast pretty much impossible.

As I stared glumly at my cereal, the phone shrilled. I got up and snagged it before it went to voicemail.

“Hello?” I asked, my voice still sleepy.

“Hey, hot lips!” the voice said, much too perky for this time of the day. I didn't bother masking my groan. It was Lance Erickson, possibly the most annoying person in the world. Or at least my part of the world. He was a year behind me in law school, but how he got in was a mystery that the world may never know. He was loud, obnoxious, a pervert, and did I mention that he was pursuing me hotly? Half the girls on campus were in love with him, why did it have to be me?

“I'm sorry sir, there is no one here by the rather silly name of “hot lips”. Perhaps you dialed the wrong number?” I attempted to keep my temper in check. Damn you, Lance. I suppose I should explain the nickname. In my second year of law school—Lance's first year—a mutual friend had a New Year's Eve party and we both attended. Needless to say, we both had a little too much to drink. Now, don't go getting the wrong idea here, it was nothing like that. It was someone's absolutely brilliant idea to play spin the bottle. And we can all guess exactly what happened. I spun, it landed on him, I had to kiss him, and he liked my “hot lips”. Might I just add that he was a terrible kisser. Ever since, he had been trying to get me to see that I was really madly in love with him and my hatred was just delusional.

“Aw, come on Em, I was kidding!” he protested “I was just wondering if you wanted to come to lunch with me today?” I sighed and used all of my self restraint not to slam the phone down with an obscenity.

“Lance, you know that I'm taking the bar today and that we're not allowed off campus!” I sighed exasperatedly. He made as though he was going to ask me to dinner “And I'm going to dinner with Michael tonight.” News had spread around the campus like wildfire that one of the students was seeing Michael Jackson.

I could hear him grimace “Well, fine. Have fun with your boyfriend.” He sneered immaturely and hung up without another word. What an idiot, I fumed, getting ready for the day. My outfit for the day consisted of a dark blue, short-sleeved, loose-fitting blouse with flower patterns and a pair of matchstick jeans. The phone took the opportune moment at which I was attempting to arrange my hair to ring again. I abandoned what was becoming a hopeless cause and grabbed the phone.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hey, baby.” Michael replied. I felt a grin spread across my face. Schoolgirl reaction? Sure. Did I care? Hell, no.

“Hi, what's up?”

“Nothing, just wanted to hear your beautiful voice and make sure you were okay getting to campus.”

“Yeah, about that. Mel is with her boyfriend right now and says she doesn't have time to pick me up. Could you—”

He spoke over the top of me “I'll be there in a jiffy.” I giggled at his word usage “Don't laugh! It's a word!”

“I know that, it just sounds funny when you say it.” I heard him huff in mock-anger when I said this.

“Well, miss smart-aleck, for that you can forget your ride!” He joked.

“Fine, I'll walk!” I teased.

“Oh, no you don't! I'll be there soon, happy?”

“Yes, yes I am. Bye, I love you.” The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. I slapped a hand over my mouth in mortification. We'd only been going out for a few days. What if he didn't feel the same?

“...I love you, too.” he replied, and I could sense him smiling through the phone. He had the kind of smile that you could just sense “You have no idea how long I've wanted to say that to you. Bye.” He hung up and I sat there, stunned. And then a smile went from ear to ear on my face. God, I was helplessly in love.

I forced myself to gulp down a few more bites of the now soggy cereal and grabbed my bag before flying out the door. My heart was pounding in nervous anticipation.

A black mini-Cooper pulled up in my driveway. Michael leaned out the window “Hey, gorgeous. Need a ride?”

I grinned cheekily at him “Sorry, mister. I was told never to get in a car with a stranger.” I used my best little-kid voice.

He laughed his big, infectious laugh “Good thing I'm not a stranger then, huh?” I hopped over to the passenger side and he reached across to open my door for me.

“Thanks for the ride, Mike.” I reached over and kissed his cheek.

“At your service,” he made a face and bowed as far he could in the seat. I slapped his shoulder and he gave me an injured look. As we drove, his hand closest to me inched over and took mine. Thankfully, he was a good driver or I would have insisted that he keep both hands on the wheel.

When we arrived at the front entrance of the building, I reached over to kiss his cheek again only to find his soft lips waiting for me. Seemingly against either of our willpowers, the kiss deepened and his tongue traced itself across my lips, seeking entrance. I granted it, my own tongue sneaking into his mouth. His hands came up and entwined themselves in my hair and I traced my fingers across his smooth skin. As the kiss got more hungry, he moaned lightly against my lips.

“Michael, we have to stop.” I mumbled into his lips.

“Why?” he moaned, kissing down my jaw, making me sigh.

“Because if we don't I'm going to miss my exam and then I won't be able to practice law.” He pulled away reluctantly and I smoothed my hair down so I didn't go into my exam with sex hair.

“Bye!” I called as I got out.

“I'll pick you up after, okay? I have something real special planned for tonight!” He pulled away before I could ask, making me groan in frustration. That boy liked to keep my guessing, just because he knew it annoyed me.

Mel was waiting at our usual picnic table that we studied at “So, good make-out session with Mr. Thriller?” she asked, smirking. My cheeks flamed red.

“You saw that?” I mumbled, staring at my feet. Damn!

“Honey, the entire campus saw it, including lover boy over there.” She pointed across the lawn to a very dejected looking Lance.

“Oh my God.” I cried, flinging my hands up in the air “That's just what we need; more publicity.”

“Hey, don't worry about it; there were no photographers,” she assured me “And you're happy, so what do you care what other people think? C'mon, we're gonna be late and then they won't let us take it. And you know, that would suck.” I agreed wholeheartedly.

I was so nervous throughout the entire exam that my hands shook nonstop. I was pretty sure that I got at least three questions wrong, but other than that it didn't go too badly. When I got outside, Michael's car was waiting for me.

“Hey, can we stop by my house before we go where we're going?” I asked. He nodded “I want to change.”

“That's fine, just don't take three hours like Janet does. I swear, she tries on her entire closet before we go anywhere!” He rolled his eyes and shook his head like he couldn't believe it could possibly take girls so long to get ready.

I hopped out of the car and went in the house as quickly as I could to change. Willing myself not to psyche myself out when it came to clothing, I chose my best black dress. It came to a little above my knee and hugged all my curves in just the right way. It had thin straps with rhinestones embedded in them and a rather low neckline. I hated high heels, but I owned a pair of mini-heels that I didn't mind too much and they went with my dress. I attacked my hair with a straightener again, beating back some of the poof that had crept back into it during my stressful day. I left it hanging loose, and it fell to the middle of my back, parted to the side in the way that Mel claimed fit my facial shape “perfectly”. Spritzing on some of my favorite perfume, I was good to go.

I got back in the car and Michael's mouth dropped open “What?” I asked. He just stared. I waved a hand in his face “Hellooo? Michael? Anyone home?” He jumped and shook his head to clear it.

“Sorry, you look great!” he exclaimed wholeheartedly. My neck heated up “Gorgeous.”

“Thanks, you look pretty good yourself.” I said seductively, eyeing him. He did look great, with the dark red shirt and the black dress pants that showed off his muscular body. And something else, too. Do I really have to elaborate?

We arrived at the ritziest hotel in the area and parked “Michael? Why are we here?” I asked. He motioned me to get out of the car. I obliged and as soon as I did he slipped his hands over my eyes “Michael!” I laughed, attempting to pry his hands off my face. To no avail, he was way stronger than I was.

“I did say it was a surprise, and how can you be surprised if you see it right away?” he asked, laughing and pulling me close. I pressed myself against him as we walked across the parking lot, terrified that I would trip and screw up my ankle again.

Michael ushered me through the door, had a hushed conversation with a door boy that I couldn't hear, much to my irritation, and kept walking me to God-knew-where. Finally, we stopped and Michael slowly pulled his hands away from my face. My jaw dropped to the floor.

We were standing in the fanciest ballroom I'd ever seen, there was a table for two set, the lights were dimmed, and the place was empty “Michael, did you really rent an entire ballroom for one date?” I asked incredulously. He looked at his feet to hide a grin.

“And the suite next door,” he replied modestly. I gasped.

“Michael, feeling a bit naughty, are we?” He grinned seductively at me and I felt my heart flutter.

“Possibly. Come on, I'm starving.” We sat down started to eat. The food was fabulous and several minutes passed in silence.

“Wine?” Michael asked after coming up for air from his food. I held out my glass and he filled it up obligingly, filling his own glass after. After two glasses, a hotel employee snuck in and started some music playing. The first song up was “Baby be Mine.” Michael rolled his eyes “I can't escape it, my music is everywhere!”

I laughed “I don't mind,” I said, dragging him onto the dance floor. He started pulling the goofiest dance moves possible, making me giggle helplessly. Several more of Michael's songs were played, and then The Music of the Night from the Phantom of the Opera started to play. Michaels arms wrapped around my waist and I snaked my arms around his neck.

Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation
Darkness stirs, and wakes imagination
Silently the senses abandon their defenses...

Michael pulled me closer and closer until all the space between us was erased. As the song progressed, his lips found mine. I immediately started to kiss back hungrily. His tongue forced entry into my mouth and his hips gyrated against mine. I moaned in pleasure and moved to the same rhythm as his as our kisses got more urgent. His lips moved down my neck and I arched my back against him.

“Michael...” I moaned. He didn't need to answer, he scooped me up bridal style and carried me in the direction of the suite, nearly running. Once we arrived, he set me down and found my lips again with passion. His hands snaked down my waist, found my butt, and squeezed gently. I felt something in the victincy of his groin start to harden and grow. My God, it was huge!

“You're not a virgin, are you?” he whispered in my ear. I shook my head. Being a college student sort of eliminated that “Good.” His hands expertly found the zipper of my dress and pulled it down. I shook it off until I was left in my panties, bra, and high heels. I kicked the shoes off as Michael set me on the bed, still kissing me intensely. His hands massaged my breasts as he sucked lightly on my neck. I wrapped my arms around his neck and his hands snaked around my back to unclasp my bra, pulling it off and discarding it on the floor. His hands returned to my breasts and kneaded them roughly.

“Ohh,” I gasped, wrapping my legs around his waist. He moved down and his tongue flicked rapidly across one of my nipples as he tweaked the other one with his fingers. I bucked my hips against his as I moaned his name.

“Do you like that?” he breathed, pausing. I reached up to continue what he had started, but his hand caught my wrist before it could reach it's desired target.

“Stop teasing me!” I breathed, trying to move my chest up to his mouth again.

“Oh, but Ms. Byrne, I am a tease. It's my middle name. Did I forget to tell you that?” he said, returning his mouth to my breasts, but this time he started flicking his tongue faster and tweaking harder. I muffled a scream of pleasure and rubbed my hips against his even harder, feeling his already huge erection grow. Now his teeth were on my nipples, bitting as well as sucking. I wound my hands in Michael's hair and wrapped my legs even more tightly around his waist. He trailed his mouth across my breasts and down my stomach, sucking at my skin until he reached my black, lacy thong.

I felt his teeth latch around the thin material and start pulling it down. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. I squirmed, feeling like I was going to explode if I didn't have him now[/i.] Once the thong was discarded next to my bra on the floor, I spread my legs expectantly. He pinned my wrists above my head and kissed my swollen lips before trailing his tongue down until he hit my belly button, which I had forgotten was an erogenous spot for me. I moaned and tried to move my hands but his firm grip didn't allow me to.

“Is this a good spot for you?” he asked tantalizingly running his tongue all around it.

“Yes,” I hissed. He chuckled and moved his mouth even further south until he found my sweet spot, and then switched to using his hand. His skillful fingers rubbed my clit and I bucked my hips against his hand, searching for more pleasure.

“Like this?” Michael asked, stopping again.

“Do it like that, Michael,” I whispered.

“Beg,” he commanded, blowing down there for greater effect. I gasped and nearly came right then and there.

“Oh, fuck!” I gasped “Mmiiichaaeell,” I groaned as he continued to blow on my spot.

“I said [i]beg
,” his lusty voice was like a rolling clap of thunder.

I gave in “Please, Michael. Do it like that.” He grinned suggestively and pushed one finger in me. I moaned long and loud. He moved it in and out slowly, almost making me go insane from desire “Oh, GOD, Michael!” He increased the speed, putting two fingers in. I could feel myself almost reach my breaking point and Michael knew it too, because he stopped just in time. He slowly retracted his fingers and licked my juices off with long strokes of his tongue.

“You taste good, baby.” he said huskily, desire clouding his eyes.

“Do I?” I asked, an idea in my mind.

I flipped Michael onto his back and he looked quite surprised “My turn,” I said with a wicked grin. His erection nearly burst through his pants. I straddled his hips and pressed my mouth on his with a lustful kiss. I sucked on his neck gently, just enough to make him want more, and skillfully unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it to the floor. A sheen of sweat appeared on his toned body and I ran my tongue up his chest. He reached down to rub himself, but I pulled his hands back.

“Uh-uh,” I said “We're doing this my way now.” My nimble fingers reached the button of his pants and quickly undid it, sliding them down with difficulty as they had become a bit tight due to his excitement. Once they were off, I lightly ran my hand over his throbbing manhood, straining against the confines of his boxer shorts. He whimpered quietly.

“Should I take these off, Michael?” I asked, continuing to slowly and rhythmically stroke him through his underwear. He nodded vigorously “I can't hear you, what was that?”

“Just fucking take them off already!” he shouted. Hearing him use dirty language made me get wet all over again.

“Okay, if you insist.” Down came the boxers and his erect member was shown in all its glory. I licked my lips slowly, knowing it would make him go mad. I was right; he strained against my restraining legs and bucked his hips in an attempt to throw me off. I gripped the hard appendage hard at the base with one hand and ran the other hand up and down it at a slow speed.

“Faster,” he breathed “Faster.” I removed the hand stroking it and put my mouth around it. It was so big I could only fit about half of it in my mouth without choking, so I tended to the rest of it with my hand. I started off gently sucking and rubbing. He rubbed his hips against my face to get me to go faster. I obliged, doubling my speed of sucking and flicking my tongue back and forth across the slit of his penis. He moaned my name over and over again, the sound making me go faster. Suddenly, he came in my mouth with a scream of relief. It was warm and milky. Some of it dribbled out and I wiped it away, tracing his stomach with it and I swallowed the rest.

He flipped me back on the bed and straddled me again “Now, it's my turn again.” he said, kissing me again. My tongue bumped against his insistently and I felt him get hard all over again.

His big hands parted my legs expertly and he sucked hard on the sensitive skin down there. I felt his dick press against my vagina, and then a thought struck me.

“You have a condom, right?” He moved marginally off me, reached into a box on the night table and about 1.5 seconds later his kiss swelled lips were back on mine, the tip of his manhood pressed against me and moving in tantalizing circles.

“Fuck me now, Michael!” I whisper-yelled.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asked, pressing a little harder. I screamed in a burst of passion.

“Oh, God, yes! I need you now!” I screamed. He entered me and I dug my nails into his sides with a whimper of lust and pain. He really was big, and I could feel every inch of him that was in me pressing against my walls “Go deeper,” I begged. He started to thrust in and out, slowly at first, his hands cupping my butt and pressing me closer. Then he picked up speed, thrusting quickly in and out. His name became extremely familiar to my tongue as I screamed it, multiple times. He yelled my name too.

“I'm close, Michael!” I yelled, feeling an oncoming eruption bubbling up inside me. He was close too, by the strained note in his voice and the increased speed of his pumping hips.

All at once we came, not once, but twice. He collapsed on top of me, sweaty and breathing hard.

“I love you,” I managed to gasp before losing myself in the afterglow of the best sex I'd ever had.

[b]A/N: I know POTO wasn't done until 1986, but I love the song Music of the Night too much not to include it in this fic. What did you thin? Did it totally suck?
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PostSubject: Re: That's Why I Love You   That's Why I Love You - Page 4 EmptyMay 31st 2012, 11:59 pm

NO! IT DIDN'T SUCK! It was...I..damn....
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PostSubject: Re: That's Why I Love You   That's Why I Love You - Page 4 EmptyJune 3rd 2012, 7:54 am

Whoaaaaaaaaaaaa mama! I mean.... Whoaaaaaa mama!
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PostSubject: Re: That's Why I Love You   That's Why I Love You - Page 4 Empty

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That's Why I Love You
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