by T. K. Leigh
The instant I say the words, the air is sucked from my lungs. That is precisely what Julian’s done for me. After only twenty-four hours with him, I’m no longer clinging to a life I may never have again. All because he made me feel beautiful. And if Julian, an amateur, can make me feel like this, I can only imagine what August Laurent could do for someone over the course of a month.
“If it’s true, I understand why she did it. An escort is discreet.”
“Especially this one,” Sadie says. “Apparently, he’s the most sought-after escort in the country.”
My eyes practically bulge out of their sockets as I choke on my Champagne. “August Laurent?” I cough out.
She smiles deviously, waggling her brows. “You’ve heard of him.”
“Evie’s working on a story about him for her magazine,” Julian explains, his tone boastful. “She hopes that giving the world the inside scoop on the elusive escort will land her a promotion to assistant editor.”
“I’d pick up the magazine for that article alone.”
I clear the last remnants of Champagne from my throat. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”
“How’s the research going? From what I hear, the guy’s an enigma.”
“You seem to know a lot about him, Sadie,” Christopher teases.
She playfully jabs him in the stomach. “I need to stay educated in case I ever need to use his services.” She winks, then turns her gaze back to mine.
“Somehow, he caught wind that I’d been looking for him and reached out to me. I won’t reveal too much of what he’s told me because I want you to buy the magazine.” Everyone laughs politely. “But based on the little information I’ve gathered so far, I can understand why someone like Sonia Moreno would hire him, especially if she were in the middle of a problematic separation. My boyfriend of twelve years just broke up with me. Ending a long relationship is difficult, even if you’ve fallen out of love. You think no one will ever love you again, that you’re past the age where anyone will find you beautiful. That’s what Julian’s done for me.”
I tilt my head, meeting his eyes. The past twenty-four hours have been a whirlwind, a constant battle of not wanting to get swept up in the fairy tale. Maybe I deserve the fairy tale, regardless of the fact that it’s bound to end. That didn’t stop Cinderella from going to the ball and dancing with her Prince Charming, even though she knew it was over at midnight. Maybe it’s time I take a page out of her book. Stop planning for a future. Live in the moment. Not care about what awaits me a month, a week, a day from now. Right now, I’ve never felt so cherished, even if this man was a stranger mere days ago.
“He’s made me feel beautiful,” I continue. “Even if this is just a fleeting romance, I’ll always have that.”
Staring into his deep pools of blue, everything around us seems to disappear into the background as we share in this moment, this realization that, no matter what happens, I’ll forever be grateful to Julian for the gift he’s given me. His lips curve into a smile, our mouths inching toward each other.
“Ah, young love,” Christopher sighs playfully.
Julian and I snap our heads forward, reminded that we’re not alone. He wraps his arm around my waist, then kisses the top of my head. “That it is.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Julian and I spend the next few hours dancing and mingling among the upper crust of the Hamptons. He’s unmistakably surprised by the familiarity with which I speak to several of the women, ones who had their noses turned up at me yesterday because I was the new girl. But, just like in high school, people eventually come around.
“And here I was, worried about how you would get on without me,” he jokes after dinner as we all file to the expansive exterior verandah to watch the fireworks display.
“I suppose knowing that I’ll never see these people after this summer relaxed me a bit. Yes, some of them still don’t like me, probably because they secretly wish they were sharing a bed with you instead of their overweight, balding husbands. But the others…” I shrug. “Once they heard our story, they couldn’t get enough. I had them swooning and sighing in the salon. They’re not much different than anyone else. They want the same things all women do.”
“And what’s that?” His blue eyes sparkle as he smiles down at me, everything about him relaxed.
“Love. Happiness. And the occasional mind-blowing orgasm.”
Julian’s throaty laugh fills the air, music to my ears. “Is that all?”
“It’s not too much to ask, is it?”
We come to a stop at the stone ledge and I lean on it. “Of course not. We all deserve love and happiness.”
“Don’t forget mind-blowing orgasms. I’m pretty sure those will inevitably lead to love and happiness. Let’s face it. If I found someone who could give me a mind-blowing orgasm, I’d fall in love with him. Which is probably why I’ve fallen in love with Mr. Winky.”
Julian passes me a bemused look. “Mr. Winky?”
I love how easy conversation is with him. Now that I’ve stopped worrying about a future and am simply living in the moment, I’m no longer on edge. Yes, there are still intense moments between us, but I don’t care whether it’s real. It doesn’t matter. All that does is that I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time, all because of Julian.
“Please don’t tell me you nicknamed Trevor’s dick, because I’ll never be able to look at him the same way again.”
My core clenches when I hear him say dick in his gruff voice. I can only imagine what he’s like in the bedroom. Based on the way he acts around me while we merely pretend we’re madly in love, I presume he’s just as impassioned, if not more so. And I bet he’s one hell of a dirty talker.
“No.” I fight against the heat washing over my face at the idea of Julian’s bedroom voice. “I didn’t nickname his dick. And he certainly never gave me mind-blowing orgasms.” I add the last part as an afterthought.
“So who’s Mr. Winky?” he inquires, and I’m grateful he doesn’t push the Trevor issue. In fact, until Julian brought him up, I haven’t thought of Trevor all night, regardless that he’s also here with Theresa. I’m simply too consumed with Julian and everything he is. The way he dotes on me and takes care of me doesn’t leave any room to worry about Trevor.
“Only the best battery-operated boyfriend I’ve ever had.”
He laughs loudly and slings his arm over my shoulders. “I love that you’re not embarrassed to talk about this stuff.”
I shrug. “It’s my job to talk about sex. Literally. Nothing fazes me anymore. I’ve seen it all. Some things I wish I could unsee.”
“I’m not sure I want to know.”
“You definitely don’t. All I’m saying is there’s a fetish for everyone and everything. And I do mean ev-ry-thing.”
“Duly noted.”
I turn my eyes back to the shore, able to make out the sound of the crashing waves and the fizzling of foam as the saltwater spreads across the sand. It’s a cloudless night, the stars twinkling above us against the dark. There’s a slight breeze, as there usually is along the coast, causing a chill to run through me, despite the moderately warm temperatures.
Noticing me shiver, Julian shrugs out of his tuxedo jacket, draping it over my shoulders. I glance behind me, offering him a smile of thanks. I expect him to return to my side. Instead, he wraps his arms around my body, pulling me against him, my back to his front. As if this were a dance we’d done dozens of times before, I melt into him, reveling in his embrace. Nothing about this feels stilted or awkward. It’s so natural, so familiar, so effortless.
Bathing in his warmth, I smile at a few nearby guests as they assemble to watch the fireworks. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Trevor standing with Theresa. I must admit, he’s rather handsome in his tuxedo, his hair freshly trimmed. Twelve years together and this is the first time I’ve seen him in a tux. The thought should anger me more, but it doesn’t. Maybe if I’d never met Julian I’d be sitting on Chloe’s couch,
lamenting about how Trevor could leave me for someone boring like Theresa, but it no longer bothers me. Julian’s right. So is Chloe. Why should I want to be with someone who doesn’t appreciate me for me?
As I observe their awkwardness, struggling to see any connection between the two, Trevor glances in my direction and our eyes meet. He swallows hard when he sees me safe and secure in Julian’s arms. Julian must notice Trevor staring. His embrace tightening, he caresses my stomach with his left hand, the one closest to Trevor. The gentle contact sends a rush of exhilaration through me, each brush of his thumb moving higher and higher. I hold my breath as he nears the curve of my breast.
“Is this okay?” he murmurs into my ear, his breath hot on my neck. “I’ll stop if you say so. No hard feelings.”
“Don’t stop,” I exhale. There’s no way I could tell him no. Not now. Not when I’m wound this tightly. I’m fully aware it’s just for show, to make people think we’re a real couple, but if that’s the only reason Julian’s putting on this display, so be it. Who cares if it’s not real? All I do care about is savoring in this moment. And in this moment, I just want Julian’s hands on my body.
“Goddamn,” he hisses as he grazes the bottom of my breasts. When he pulls my body even tighter against his, he groans, grinding against me.
“Down boy,” I joke. Feeling how turned on he is gives my confidence an added boost. Say what you will, but there’s nothing as empowering for a woman as knowing she has the ability to turn on a man, to bring him to his knees, to make him desperate for just a taste, a feel, a touch.
“I can’t help it. He has a mind of his own, especially when you’re around.”
Music fills the exterior speakers and, seconds later, a loud boom echoes. Everyone “oohs” and “aahs” as their attention shifts to the horizon, the brilliant colors of the fireworks bright against the dark canvas. But Julian’s attention remains focused entirely on me.
When his hips circle a slow, sensual rhythm against my body, I moan, leaning my head against his chest. I try to concentrate on the fireworks in the sky, not the ones erupting in my core at the sensation of his seductive teasing. My nipples strain against my dress, my body’s reaction at odds with the warning my brain sounds, telling me to retreat, that I’d drawn lines for a reason. I couldn’t retreat now if I wanted to, a carnal need to experience more of Julian driving me forward, regardless of the possible consequences.
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought of you these past few weeks?” His teeth skim against my neck, causing a jolt of electricity to rush through me, hot and needy. Surrounded by all these people, I fight to maintain my composure. With each word, each nip, each touch, it’s becoming more and more impossible.
“How many?” I manage to squeak out as I keep my eyes glued to the gorgeous display in front of us commemorating our country’s independence. I can’t help but feel that this weekend marks the start of my independence, too. The start of a new chapter in my life.
“I lost count. At the office. In the shower… In my bed.”
I bite my lower lip, fantasies clouding my brain. Barging in on Julian when he’s at work and seducing him at his desk. Surprising him in the shower and having him slam me against the cool tile, the way he fucks me hungry and insatiable. Then crawling in beside him in the middle of the night. Without a word, he’d show me the tender lover I sense is hidden somewhere beneath the mask. I barely know this man, yet the fantasies in my head are so real, as if someone’s able to show me a piece of him I’ll never be able to have.
“Have you thought of me?”
“Y-yes,” I stammer, squeezing my legs together as pressure slowly builds inside me, on the brink of bubbling over. I fear if it’s not released, I’ll explode into a vibrant show more brilliant than the fireworks in the sky.
He runs his hands along my stomach, my muscles clenching. With each journey north, he retreats with a path traveling farther south. He presses me into the ledge, shielding curious onlookers from noticing when he dips his hand into the slit of my dress.
“Have you thought of me during one of your dates with your so-called Mr. Winky?”
Normally I’d giggle at the sound of anyone else calling my battery-operated boyfriend by his name. But I’m too turned on to find humor in anything right now. Instead, all I can do is answer truthfully.
“Yes.”
“When was the last time?”
“Last night.”
“Fuck.” His grip on me tightens. The warmth of his hand brushing against the waist of my panties causes my breathing to increase, my chest to heave at the promise of what’s to come. “Is this okay?”
“Yes.” I adjust my stance, parting my legs slightly, signaling him with my body how much I want this. Chloe and Nora have done the no-strings thing. I can do that, too. I hope. “God, yes.”
When he slips his hand beneath the line of my panties, I grip the ledge harder, my jaw clenching as I do everything in my power not to draw attention to us.
“Is this okay?” he asks once more as his fingers leisurely make their way farther south.
“Yes.” I’m no longer standing on the verandah of a ridiculously opulent mansion in the Hamptons overlooking the ocean as we watch an excessive fireworks display. I’m flying, the ground nothing but a speck of dust.
He groans again as he brushes his fingers against my skin. “He really did make you get waxed, didn’t he?”
“He did.”
When he grazes my center, I whimper, in another place, another time, another universe. “Is this okay?”
“Yes.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
His touch becomes firm as he explores me, this entire experience completely out of character for me. Or maybe it’s simply because my ex never would have so much as entertained the idea of doing something like this in public. I think that’s what makes it even more exciting. The notion that, at any moment, someone could look our way and realize what’s going on. But they don’t, everyone too immersed in the fireworks, the musical accompaniment being piped in through the sound system loud enough to drown out my pants and pleas for more.
“Guinevere,” he growls as he explores me with more intensity, pushing one finger inside before adding another. “Did Trevor ever turn you on like this?”
“No.” It’s the truth. Never. Not once. There was no spontaneity with him. I thought I liked that. I knew when we’d be having sex. I knew what position we’d be in. I’m starting to think that certain things can’t be planned.
“I love that I do this to you. Because you have no idea how fucking hard I am right now. How hard I get every time I think of you. You do it for me. And this isn’t me saying it as part of our game. This is me saying it because it’s true. I’m starved for you.”
“Oh god.” My eyes roll into the back of my head as the thunder of fireworks becomes more and more fevered. I was right. Julian is a damn good dirty talker. I’m pretty sure I could come from his words alone. Add in how expertly he massages me and brushes his thumb on my clit and I soon climax in time with the grand finale of the fireworks display, screaming out in utter bliss as applause and cheers fill the air.
Every inch of me trembling, I struggle to make sense out of what just happened, how I should feel about it when I desperately wanted to keep the lines from being blurred. Not only did I just blur them, I pretty much eviscerated them, all because I got swept up in the moment.
“Don’t,” he rumbles into my ear as he removes his hand, adjusting my dress to hide our indiscretions. I stare forward, my mind racing, chest heaving. “Don’t think this is anything more than what it is — two consenting adults enjoying each other’s company.”
I nod subtly, swallowing hard. How does he know my thoughts are currently clouded with guilt and embarrassment over what we’d just done, how easily I’d allowed him to touch me like that when only one man has in over a decade? I haven’t even been single a full month, yet am already spreading my legs for some
one else, a relative stranger. Granted, Trevor doesn’t seem to be bothered by the idea of being with someone new so soon, but it feels…wrong.
“You deserve to feel beautiful, to feel desired, to feel adored. That’s all I wanted. Okay?”
I turn around, locking eyes with him, his expression a mixture of hunger and remorse, a near mirror image of the war currently battling inside my own heart. How can I tell him I want him, but with every second we spend together, the harder it will be to walk away from him at the end of the summer? That if he keeps touching me like that he’ll ruin me for all the men who come after him? And there will be men who come after him. He made sure of that. We both did.
“The ball’s in your court, Guinevere. If you want to explore this connection further, I’m more than willing. If you’re not comfortable with having a strictly physical relationship, I understand that, as well. Just know that I am insanely attracted to you. And I will be no matter what you choose.”
My breathing is still labored from the after-effects of the orgasm rolling through me as I peer into his eyes, desperately wanting to crush my lips to his, wrap my arms around him, and allow him to consume me in a way I believe only he can. But can I really do this? I feel like I’m standing in the door of a plane, torn between jumping out and experiencing the exhilaration of flying, or returning to the ground from the safety of my seat.
I’m about to share my fears when Sadie’s familiar voice cuts through. “There you two are!”
I jump away from Julian, as if we’d just been caught doing something we shouldn’t. I’m not Catholic, but I have a feeling this is what the Catholic guilt I’ve heard so much about must feel like. I search the area, my eyes settling on her approaching with Christopher and a man I estimate to be in his fifties.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I wanted to introduce you to my uncle Clinton.” She leans in, lowering her voice. “He’s my cool uncle.” She winks an exaggerated wink as he laughs politely.