As a child Monica spent many nights lying awake, dreaming of how different her life would have been if her mum didn’t die. If she had siblings that she could count on to be there in hard times. When she have kids, she definitely wants at least three, so they all have each other to lean on. Hold the front door. Where the hell did that thought just come from? When she have children? What the hell happened to a girl who would literally have apanic attack at the thought of having kids? Julien happened, that’s what happened. She can see how much of a great dad he will be if they had children. He steppedup and took over raising a thirteen-year-old girl and seventeen-year-old teenage boy. That could not have been easy by any standard. But he has never made it out to seem like a chore, he’s never complained about having to grow up before his time. He loves his siblings unconditionally. Monica knows without a shadow of doubt, he will love their kids the same. Monica was brought out of her t
There was paint everywhere, red paint splashed all over the room, on the floor, on the walls, it’s even on the ceiling. The message that’s written above what used to be Monica's bedhead is what breaks her frozen stance and has her screaming at the top of her lungs. The message painted in what she hoping is red paint says.I’m coming for youWe will meet soon xxxOh my god! All of her things, everything that she have worked so hard to get has been destroyed. Running to her wardrobe, Monica was scrambling to the mess. No, she cannot have ruined it. She was crying, rummaging, trying to find it. She can’t find it. Why can’t she find it?Strong arms wrap around her and pull her back, stopping her from looking. “No, I have to find it, it has to be here,” Monica says as she fights her way out of his hold. “Shh, sunshine, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. It’s going to beokay.” It’s not going to be okay, it’s never going to be okay. Why doesn’t he know? This is what her life is, one fucked up sit
Dean takes one look at them and asks, “what happened?” looking at Monica’s limp form in his arms.It’s just registering with him that she’s not clinging to himlike she usually would when experiencing a panic attack. This is different. He doesn't like how limp and unresponsive she’s being. Julien knows she’s conscious to some extent, she is still crying and mumbling about finding that damn picture. “Can you stay and help Sarah upstairs? Don’t leave her alone, bring her to the penthouse when she’s finished here.” Julien can’t even tell him what happened, he can’t bring himself tofind the words that Catalina has finally managed to break down Monica. Getting home, Julien takes her straight into the shower. She’s stopped crying, she’s just silently staring into space. She won’t answer anything he asks her other than nodding or shaking her head. Julien honestly doesn't know how to help her. Should he call adoctor in? A trauma specialist, maybe? Fuck, he just need to figure out how to hel
Julien was lying in bed with Monica in his arms and he couldn’t think of waking up any other way. It’s Christmas Eve, he have her car in the garage with a huge fucking bow on it. Julien just has to figure out a way to get her to accept it. Julien has been lying awake for hours, conjuring up ways to get her to accept the car and accept the question he was planning to ask her tomorrow morning. But first today, the car. Monica stirs, slowly opening her eyes. She is the definition of not a morning person. Grumbling, she smiles up at Julien. “Morning babe.” She leans in kisses him gently beforesettling her head on his chest. “Morning Sunshine, sleep well?” Julien asks, kissing the top of her head. “Mm-hmm, I always sleep well next to you,” she mumblesback. Huh, she’s in a great mood today. Rolling her over to her back, Julien pins her down and kisses her.She responds immediately, opening for him. He pulls away before he can take things any further. A look of disappointment crosses her f
Julien quickly settles between her legs, lining his cock up to her entrance. “Ready?” he asks her. “Oh god, Julien. Hurry up already and put that in me!” she exclaims. Slamming into her, Julien stills. Feeling her so soft and tight. Knowing that her virgin pussy is tore and the hymen is gone for good he whispers "Fuck." He will really not last long. This feels too fucking good for him. Julien moves slowly, thrusting in and out in careful, precise slow motions. It’s not helping, Julien can feel his orgasm building. Reaching between their bodies, he rubs his finger in circles around her clit “I need you to come for me, sunshine. Come now!” Julien demands. She doesn’t disappoint. She comes hard, screaming out his name. Her pussy clamps down around his cock, milking him for all that he has to give. Falling onto the bed next to her, he pulls her into his arms. They are both a sweaty mess, both breathing heavily, sucking in air, attempting to catch their breaths. Monica's breathing slows,
Monica was staring at a huge freaking shiny red car with a huge shiny white bow on it. Merry Christmas Sunshine is written across the windscreen. What is the actual fudge? “Ah Julien, that’s a car!” Turning to face him, she can see an enormous smile on his face. She is taken aback, she hasn't seen him this happy for a while. She knows he’s been hovering over her and trying to makesure that she was okay; it has taken a toll on him. “Well, it has four wheels and what looks like a steering wheel inside it. So, yeah; it possibly is a car,” he laughs.She is stunned, not sure what to do or say. No one has ever given her a gift like a car before. She means, what do you say to a gift like this? Oh thanks, she loves it just doesn’t seem enough. She has been standing in the same spot just staring at this bright red huge car for too long. She can feel Julien’s gaze burning into her. After what they shared this morning was barely a reality to her Finally, he takes her hand leading her to th
Hearing the click of the door opening, Monica looks up only for her smile to falter when she sees Bray sauntering in and not Julien. Making a dramatic scene of sniffing under his armpits, he says, “nope I don’t smell. I don’t know why you’re looking so disappointed to see me walk through the door, Monica. Do you realise how many ladies would swap places with you just to sit and watch me get all hot and sweaty?” He waggles his eyebrows up and down at her. Monica can’t help but laugh a little. “I was waiting for Julien, have you seen him?” Bray heads over to the weight bench, pulling his shirt over his head before laying down on it. “Who?” he asks as he lifts the weight bar over his head. How he is lifting that thing is beyond her. The weights on him it look like they weigh a ton. “Funny,” Monica says, getting up from her spot, walking over to him and glaring down at him. “Where’s your brother Bray? He told me to meet him in here, I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes already.” Bray co
Monica didn't notice as the door opened and she didn't stop trying to land a punch as Julien’s voice booms across the room. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Bray stops blocking and slightly turns towards Julien. That’s when she sees her opportunity and she swings her right arm out, landing a punch on his face. Where she could not tell her, but she definitely felt the contact. That just can’t miss the dramatic yell from Bray, “Ah, god dammit Monica! You fucking punched me!” He holds his hand up to his face, covering his left eye. Oh god, Monica stops in place, the high feeling of making contact and landing a punch turns into a feeling of dread. She thinks that she hurt him, she can’t believe she actually punched him. Sure, she really wanted to land a hit on him, but she didn’t want to hurt him. “I’m so sorry, Bray. I … I didn’t mean to. I just got carried away." She tries to explain herself at the same time not let the tearsfall that are threatening to come loose. Julien wr
As they both share a passionate time.“Princesse, please.” It’s a beg, Monica will admit, but it’s growled with deep hunger. She flips her hair over one shoulder, putting her weight onto one arm to take Jackson in hand. Standing him upright, she aligns herself with him. “I loveyou, husband,” she says sweetly. “I love you, wiiiiife.” Jackson means to return the sweet words, knowing it will get her off as much as it does him, but Monica sinks her bliss down onto him, taking all thought and word formation skills from his brain. Engulfing all of Jackson in her warmth and wetness, she begins to move, sliding up and down his shaft at an unhurried pace. Jackson murmurs to her in French as he pinchens and plucks her nipples, reaching between them to circle her clit with his thumb, and lay a sharp smack to the flesh of her hip. Tobias once told Monica that a man has three women—his wife, his mistress, and his whore. He was the lucky bastard who has found all three in onewoman. Monica was eve
The reception was full of laughter, dancing, and magic. It must be magic because nothing else could bring that big of a smile to his bright bride’s face. Monica was on the dance floor with her bridesmaids. They were swaying andmoving, lifting their hands in the air as they sing along with the music. “She’s beautiful,” Jamaica grunts from beside him. “Congratulations.” Jackson looks over at him, taking a slow sip of his scotch. “Watch it,” Jackson teases. They have made peace, with each other and their pasts, not letting them affect their precious futures. In fact, Jamiaca was doing much better now, working an apprenticeship in home construction with plans to become a project manager one day. He grins back. “What can you tell me about her?” Jackson follows his line of sight and chuckles and he sees Claire from the coffee shop that Monica prefers. Monica insisted that they fly Claire to France for the wedding. “Good luck. Just don’t fuck it up, or that one will eat you alive.” “That s
His expression was like he had too much on his head already. He grew beards and had an manly scent. Not that she was still attracted to him. But his expression told her that he was not happy with the life he was living. The knowledge of breaking the news of getting married with Jackson had filled Julien with false hope and accusations that she can always come back to him if she wanted to. She can still have a half portion of his heart and stay there for his and hers little boy's sake. “How do I look?” Monica asks her Mom, glancing down at her beautiful dress. “Gorgeous,” she says, on the verge of tears again. “Are you sure you are not going to be cold, though?” Hopefully, she holds up the lacy shawl she found online for her. Once upon a time, she would have heard that as a way to say she doesn’t like her dress or as a critique of the timing of the wedding, or even a question about whether she should be getting married in the first place. Now, Monica takes it for what it is. “I’m no
“I already gave some to Simon. You got yourself a good one here.” Monica's mother's gives Jackson a smile of approval as she fans herself playfully. “I think I’m the fortunate one to have captured Monica's heart,” hereplies, looking deeply into her eyes. Monica thinks Mom flat-out swoons at his poetic words, French accent, andgrumbly voice. She was pretty sure she hears her whisper to Jacqueline, “I think we are going to be grandmas soon if he keeps saying things like that.” “Mom!” Monica exclaims aim, flushing brightly in an instant. “Oh, I’m only teasing,” she says. She turns to Jacqueline and Nora. “Has she told you how she struck out from our little town, with nothing but piss and vinegar in her blood and a dream in her heart? I was so worried, but this one . . . you can’t tell her a thing!” Monica's mother goes on to tell Nora and Jacqueline how she had worried about her being in the big city, had waited for her to come home with her tail between her slender legs, and how proud
Most of the models are local to NYC, but she had lamented that her Amour mourning dress was meant for Jeanette and that she was sad she would never get the chance to walk it. So Jackson secretly surprised her by flying Jeanette in to do it. She was not wishing the show away, but she truly can’t wait to see Jeanette strut in that gown. No one can do it justice the way she can. Monica swears, she blinks and the time flies past until she was standing backstage with Jeanette in the voluminous black gown. “Remember, slow. Eyes forward.” Monica demonstrated the defiant gaze she wants on Jeanette to have, tackling the future with strength after the loss of love. “Pose, small smile of hope. Then back like a queen.” “Slow. Strong. Hope. Queen,” she repeats clearly. Her English has gotten much better. Monica's French was improving daily, too, from listening to Jackson. “Tue cette piste, fille,” Monica tells her, snapping her fingers. Jeanette looks at her in surprise. “Oui, I will kill the run
Molly pushes Monica's shoulder. “You would bust ass to get as much done as possible, and then leave to ‘work at home’ or ‘visit the park for inspiration’ and come back the next day with barely anything else done since you left.And you would have a dreamy smile on your face.” Molly makes a vacant-eyed, open-mouthed smiling expression that Jackson thinks is supposed to be what Monica looked like. Jackson did that to her, he thinks cockily. Katarina nods, agreeing. “We thought you had found a French Romeo, and then we saw Jackson wearing the same necklace you had started wearing. It didn’t take much to put one and one together.” Beatrice adds quietly, “We were a bit worried for you, as he has quite the reputation. And it didn’t seem to be helping you in the competition. We weren’t concerned about that until . . .” She trails off, and he knows that his aunt turned that particular screw to get Beatrice to do her bidding. “Okay, so no hard feelings?” Monica asks them all. Molly leans over
“I should have told you,” she whispers back. Monica pushes at him, nearly shoving him out of his chair. “Get up and hug her, or I’m going to have to do it, and I’m not getting snot on her jacket. It’s too fabulous for that.” Jackson gets up to come around the table, and for the first time in he doens't know how long, he enfolds his aunt in a hug. Jackson knows it’s been long enough that he have forgotten how thin she truly is. And he doens't think he have hugged her when he have been taller than she is, even in her power heels. How long ago must it have been since they embraced? It must have beenwhen he was truly a child, before he was a teen growing inches seemingly overnight. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs into his chest. “Me too.” They sit back down, and he looks to Monica, silently asking what she thinks about his aunt’s request for a fashion showplace. They have a conversation consisting solely of raised and lowered eyebrows, pursed lips, and smiles. Finally, Monica turns back to J
She has let that go and is looking toward the future. With Jacqueline, Monica was only concern is him and his little feelings. He squeezes her hand tightly so she knows how much he appreciates her. “Yes, well . . . I guess . . . when I found out that you were gallivanting all over Paris together, I will admit that my first thought was that you’d seduced Jackson to improve your chances in the competition.” Monica points to her own ample chest. “Not a gold digger, just so that’s clear.” Jacqueline nods, accepting that fact now. “At the time, though, it made sense. It wasn’t the first time.” She looks to him for confirmation, and Jackson grunts in agreement. “There was that idea in my mind. But also, if the reverse were true, that Jackson had in fact pursued you” —she flicks her eyes to Monica this time— “I felt like it would be doing you a disservice. I didn’t want you to be distracted by him and miss out on your opportunity, because I know what something like this could mean to a youn
They sit in folding plastic chairs at Jackson's folding plastic table after he closes his laptop. In the awkward silence, Monica can hear the loud buzz of a drill every few seconds as the crew hangs new drywall. “What are you up to, Jacqueline?” Monica was not doing niceties or waiting for her to launch into a practised speech. She wants to throw her off, make sure she knows that they were not under her thumb and have no problem calling out her game play. She has come all the way here to talk about something, after all, so may as well not delay. She presses her lips together in response but gives in. “The reactions to the fashion shows have been quite exciting. Perhaps you have heard?” Monica doesn't look at him, but Jackson stays quiet, and something Jacqueline sees in his expression must give her pause because her nostrils flare. “Or maybe not. But the media buzz has been quite positive. For House Corbin and the designers themselves. Seeing as two of the designers are from America,