Smile (a Michael Jackson Fanfiction)

(17)

"Here we are," Michael smiles as we walk into the Hawaiian suite. I look around at all of the tropical patterns that are aesthetically pleasing to the eye, taking it all in. 

"This is gorgeous, Michael," I breathe in amazement as I walk ahead of him. He wraps his arms around me from behind and I giggle. 

"Only the best for my girl," he mumbles against my shoulder, kissing it lightly. He continues to place kisses up my neck as I lean into him.

"Ooh boy," I giggle, "You tryna' start something'?" I ask, swinging my words as he grips my waist tighter. 

"I'm all yours baby. You can do whatever you want to me." he whispers against the shell of my ear and a shiver goes up my spine. 

"We had sex for hours on the plane, aren't you tired?" I smile, turning in his arms as I feel the ache between my thighs. 

"I could never get tired of you," he smiles, looking down at me with the same look he gave me on the plane, "You're perfect." he grins, kissing my lips longingly. 

"Stop," I smile, blushing, as I place my hands on his chest, "You're perfect." I bat my lashes before kissing the corner of his mouth. 

"Emma," he sighs as his face turns rosy. 

"Agh, you're so cute," I smirk, kissing him one last time, before leaving his amazing touch to go put my bags in the bedroom, "Holy shit." I gasp as I walk into the master bedroom. Everything is laid out so nicely; the white, satin sheets, all of the little pieces of decor that pull everything together, and all of the wooden furniture that makes me relax just by the look of it. 

"What?" Michael asks with concern as he quickly walks into the room, "Wow." he sighs, seeing what I'm continually admiring. 

"This is amazing." I smile, wrapping my arms around Michael's waist. He kisses the top of my head, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and rubbing my left one with care. 

"I hope nobody bombards us." Michael groans in realization as I kiss his jaw, pulling away. 

"Michael, you're you," I smile with admiration, watching as he takes in the view before looking over to me, "You will be bombarded wherever you go. Especially when you're in other countries." I wink, walking into the washroom. 

"What are you doing?" he asks, following me, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. 

"Washing my hands," I sigh, looking down at the tap, "I feel dirty." 

"Yeah you do," Michael winks, as I bite my lips to keep from laughing. 

"You're so bad." I shake my head. He taps his lips, walking over to me to lean his ass against he marble washroom counter. 

"Hmm," he hums, folding his arms, "I like that. I'm Bad." he plays with the word in his mouth, "Sounds like a good song idea." he winks, walking out of the room, starting to sing. A gigantic smile covers my face as I listen to him play with melodies and harmonies.

My man is so talented.

I dry my hands as I look over the bathtub and shower that are separate from each other. 

It would be fun to use those while we're here. 

The thought make my teeth tug on my bottom lip as Michael still plays around with his musical ideas. Though a shower and/or bath with Michael right now seems great, I think I need to take one by myself. I feel all gross from the plane, and not because I was breaking a sweat the whole time. 

"Hey babe, I'm gonna take a shower." I call from the washroom. His feet quickly find me as I'm taking off my shirt to reveal my black bra. His eyes wander my chest and stomach as he leans his arm against the wall. 

"Do you need any company?" he asks seriously, still trailing his eyes down my body. 

"Michael," I giggle, running a hand over my curls. 

"I'm serious, Emma." he smiles, taking a step closer to me. He better not try anything. I'm definitely going to submit if he tries to touch me. 

"I am too," I sigh, pulling down my sweats. He stares at my ass as I turn around to start the water of the shower. 

"Damn," he mumbles, as I feel the temperature, still taunting him. 

"What was that?" I ask softly, looking over my shoulder. 

"You're so sexy," he groans, taking another step towards me. 

"You're not so bad yourself." I giggle, placing my hands on his chest, "But really, I want to shower alone."

"Why's that?" he asks, tracing his fingers over my lower back, making me shiver. 

"Because I need to clean myself," I swallow, staring at his lips longingly.

"Oh baby," he tuts, "Why would you wash yourself when you can have someone else do it for you?" he smiles, pulling me flush to his body.

"Michael," I gasp, gripping his biceps.

"Tell me what you want," he coaxes, slowly leaning in to kiss the corner of my mouth. 

"I-I want," I stutter, trying to collect my thoughts, "To take a shower... by myself." I sigh, finally looking into his eyes. 

"Hmm," he hums, placing a soft kiss on my wet lips, "Are you sure?" he asks smoothly. 

"Positive." I swallow, unconvincingly. 

"Alright," he nods, letting go of me unexpectedly, "Just call me if you need anything." he winks, turning to walk out of the washroom. I sigh disappointedly, running both hands down my face as he turns back to look at me, "Do me a favour though," his brows raise as he looks back, "Scream my name when you're thinking of me in the shower." he winks with a smirk, causing my jaw to drop. 

My jaw stays open as he exits the washroom, still chuckling to himself. I guess he's pleased with my reaction. I walk over to the door, shutting it, before stripping from my undergarments and stepping into the steamy shower. 

Several minutes later, and lots of scrubbing as well, I am out of the shower, ready to actually start my vacation with Michael. I know that he was on vacation in New York, but that doesn't really count. When I think of a vacation, I think of tropical, white sand beaches, not smog and homeless people. 

I walk into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around my body, and I look around the room

"Michael?" I call, as I open my suitcase. 

No response.

I look around the room and see a note lying on the top of the dresser by the balcony. I walk over and pick it up:

Emma,

I've gone out to go and run an errand or two. I hope this doesn't upset you, I'll be back soon to make sweet love to you and condone your every need. 

Yours, 

Michael

My heart flutters as I tuck the note in my suitcase and get dressed, my mind on Michael the whole time. I wonder what he had to go do?

I'm walking into the kitchen a few minutes later and check the cupboards and fridge. There's only a bottle of complimentary champagne, and that wouldn't be good on an empty stomach. 

I'm still searching the pantry when there is a rapid knock on the door, and my feet find their way over to the noise quickly. I look through the peephole and Rob is standing there, still knocking like a madman. I swing the door open and he stumbles forward a bit, straightening his tie as he stands back up. 

"Rob, what's wrong?" I ask as my brows furrow together. 

"Ms.Abella," he pants, clearly out of breath, "I'm afraid there has been an accident." 

My heart stops in my chest. 

"What are you talking about Rob?" I ask slowly, standing up straight.

"Mr.Jackson has been hit by a car."