Eminem Fan Fiction Shorts II

Eminem Takes a Chance

"Fuck me." I heard Jazz say under her breath, her tone frustrated. "Alright, again." She murmured, closing her eyes as she continued. "He ran one finger over the curve swelling just at the opening of her dress, leaving a trail of heat that spread straight to her-"

"Aching, soaked pussy?" I offered, cutting her off and startling her.

Jazz was sitting in the middle of her bed, her legs crossed and her body bent over her laptop. She had her sexy ass glasses on and her hair up in a messy bun, which was held in place by a pencil. I looked at it with interest:  in today's world of electronics, I didn't know anyone other than teachers who kept No. 2s around. It fit, though, with my lingering fantasy of Jazz in a school girl uniform.

She grinned and shook her head, pointing to the screen. "This scene just refuses to cooperate. It's the last one of the book, and I just can't seem to make it mesh with the end I have in mind." She blew out a breath, moving a hair that had fallen into her eyes toward the side of her face.

"Worst lyrics I've ever written were because I was trying to force something." I commented as I stepped into the room. Jazz nodded, twisting her lips a little before she flung her body back against the covers of the bed, tossing a hand over her eyes.

"But this ending, Em; it's perfect!" She said, her voice slightly muffled around her arm. I sat on the bed, running a light hand over her exposed thigh and raising bumps on her skin.

"Why don't you save the one you want for another work and then let this one go the way it's taking you?" I asked. She moved her hand away from her eyes and looked at me quietly.

"I didn't expect you." She said, her eyes beginning to darken around the edges as my palm applied more and more pressure.

"No one expects me, princess." I said with a smirk and she chuckled until a moan escaped at the movement of my hand. I shifted onto the bed, tagging her laptop and setting it on the side table before moving over her.

"Maybe, you just need some inspiration?" I whispered. Jazz nodded and arched as my hand slid under the hem of her shorts.

"I could do with some of that." She said, her voice breathy.

---

"So, um, you and Jazz?" Paul asked, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. I rose a brow but nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"Have you two talked about what happens when she submits this book?" He asked and I frowned.

"No. Why?" I asked. He sighed and looked away before turning back to me.

"Jazz's new agent is working to set up another tour. They've been editing on the fly with this work so that it will be set for publishing within just a month of the final submission. A month after that, she's going to be traveling for signings." He said, looking at me seriously.

"She'll be gone for three months."

Paul's words settled into the pit of my stomach with the acid that was now roiling. Jazz and I had been together for the better part of four months now. She'd become the part of my day that was always real, true and just fucking right. The few times I'd tried to sleep without her, I'd utterly failed. I needed her near and to hear that she was going to be gone, it was overwhelming my systems. How in the fuck was I supposed to do without her?

"Fuck." I muttered as I got up. I needed air.

I wandered around the studio for a minute before I just walked out, my hands in my pockets. I was going to see Jazz, but I was a million miles away. I needed to talk to her about things, but I fucking hate the 'state of the union' conversations that come with seeing someone seriously. One person always ended up saying something that hurt or pissed off the other, and then what had been a good, happy relationship was marred by words that couldn't be unheard.

"Did you lose a battle or something?" I heard Jazz say from her position off to the side of my car.

I swore she had a sixth sense or some shit for being around when I was in turmoil. Usually, I appreciated it. She calmed me in ways I wouldn't have thought possible. Right now, though, I wasn't sure I was ready.  She was here, though, so perhaps now was the best time to lay it on the table. 

"Nah. I'm just thinking." I responded. She looked at me with a puckered brow and then nodded.

"Well, I'm here if you want to talk about it." She offered and I shook my head.

"But not for long, are you?" I asked. It took her a second, but then realization dawned on her face.

"The first stop is in three weeks." She answered, looking at her feet before turning her eyes back up to mine. I nodded and looked away. I knew that.

"Come with me." She said suddenly. I looked back to her as she walked up to me. "You can fly back here when you need to. In between, we can break in every hotel room on the East Coast." She said, her smile taking over her face.

"That's a lot of one on one time, princess." I cautioned, although hope was starting to overtake the distress in my guts. Paul had said that she always gave her all to relationships, but we hadn't said those words and I hadn't been willing to jinx shit by pushing the issue. 

"Well, if you want to, I could try a threesome." She responded - perfectly serious - and I fucking choked on my spit, my throat muscles failing in their one job of keeping me alive and breathing. Once I'd coughed past the lump that had formed, I shook my head and pulled her to me by the hips.

"Maybe some other time. I've still got plenty of ideas for just the two of us." I said, biting her ear a little. When I got the response I wanted, her shiver, I pulled back.

"Going on tour with you could kill this, Jazz." I said, still concerned. "I'm down for everything about you, but you gotta know that I'm not an easy person to live with. I could fuck up." I warned and she nodded.

"I know that. I also know that I could fart in my sleep or something and turn you off." She said. I waited for the two seconds it took her to realize what she'd said and smiled at the flush that took over her face before she buried her head into my chest.

"Shit. Why can I not filter? Why?" She mumbled against me and I chuckled as my hands found their way into her long hair so that I could tilt her head up to mine.

"I love you." I said softly, looking in her eyes. They shone at me the way they had that first day, with happiness and light, as she responded.

"I love you, too, Marshall. I don't want to go without you. Come." She demanded and I smirked.

"I will."

A/N:  There's the end to Jazz and Marshall. There's likely to be a new story starting up today. Until then, happy reading!