I smile big back at her, “Okay, okay, I got, to be honest. I knew who you were the moment you walked in here. I stare at that billboard on my way to work every day.”
“Oh my God, are you serious?” she asks, “How funny! Have we both met our fantasy pairing today?”
“Looks that way,” I say, “I don’t suppose you would be interested in going on a date?”
Sylvia leans forward on the table, “I really would.”
Hell yeah! This guy just scored a date with a model. Not just any model, though, the model! The model I have gawked over for the past year. Today is starting to look up after all.
11
I decide that if I am going to be going on a date with my fantasy girl, I need to make it a good one. As a woman who makes a living testing athletic gear for a living (and loving it), I decide to do something a little different. I tell her to dress comfortably, and I have my driver take me to her apartment on the outskirts of the city. Being the gentleman I am, I, of course, bought her a few flowers. Roses.
I leave my driver waiting outside and head up to her second-floor apartment. I knock, and she answers wearing a pair of jean and a nice looking blue shirt. I myself am dressed similar in a pair of jeans and a gray V-neck. She smiles when she sees the mall bouquet of roses. “Well, aren’t you adorable?” she teases.
“Of course,” I say, and she takes the flowers.
“Hold on. I want to put these on water.” She says and hurries back into her apartment before meeting me at the door. She locks the door behind her, and I took her arm in mine.
“Are you ready for the most fabulous first date of your life?” I ask.
“You’re cocky, you know that?” she laughs. “And I hope it will be better than my last first date. The guy forgot his wallet, and I wound up paying for his lunch.”
“Very cute,” I say with an eye roll. “That was not a date. And believe me, I assure you that I will make up for that sandwich you got for me.”
“I hope so,” she jokes, “It was kind of expensive for a coffee house sandwich.”
We get into the back of my car, and my driver takes us straight to a local airstrip where my private jet is awaiting us. I can tell she is somewhat excited and trying to play it off as if it is nothing. “So… where are we going?” she asks as we are boarding up.
I laugh. “What? And ruin the surprise?”
We sit in the cabin, and my personal stewardess brings us two glasses of Champaign and some chocolate covered fruit to snack on. It’s going to be a long flight. Sylvia and I start talking, and I find her exceptionally easy to talk to. She is not just a pretty face. I love the fact that she is really into her job. She talks about some of the amazing things she’s done before and some of the new equipment that’s not even out yet that she has worked with. She tells me she has gotten flown out to beaches before by companies just to test beach gear like the top of the line surfboards. “I wish I had your job,” I say.
“I wish I had yours.” She laughs, “Come on, you make being a playboy billionaire sound like a bad thing.”
“It has its perks, I’ll admit, but it's way more trouble than it’s worth.” I say, “It has caused more family drama than you could imagine.”
“Now that’s something I can relate to.” Sylvia grumbles, “I have a big sister who thinks she is a big shot. I love her and all, but damn! If I have to hear her talk about herself at our family dinner one more time, I might punch her.”
“So you’re on the other end of it all, I see,” I say under my breath.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“My older brother is my factory manager,” I say.
“Older brother?” she asks, “Oh, no, that’s way worse than what I deal with. My sister would lose her mind if her baby sister was better off than her.”
“That bad?” I ask.
“Hell yeah!” Sylvia laughs and takes a bite of chocolate-covered strawberry, “Come on Marty, you’re telling me you don’t know how the whole lineup is supposed to go? Oldest sibling is the boss. They’re the ones who get all the hell from the parents, so they wind up being the successful ones. Look after your little sister. Why is your little sister this –why doesn’t your little sister that –as if it’s their fault their younger sibling is a screw-up. And you’re telling me your brother probably went through the same thing his entire childhood and young adult life, and he wound up working for you?”
“Well if you put it that way…” I frown; I did not really expect this topic to come up on our date. “I really screwed up with him this week,” I say, “I know he’s been having money trouble, so I gave him a raise.”
“Ooh…” she cringes.
“How come everyone knows that would be a bad idea except for me?” I question aloud.
“You’re kind of clueless, aren’t you?” Sylvia asks, “I mean seriously, how did that even happen? You and your brother’s situation, I mean.”
“It’s kind of complicated, but to explain it simply, my dad left me pretty much everything when he passed away, and my brother got the short end of the stick,” I say.
She raises a brow, “Why? That seems kind of cold.”
“We didn’t know until after he died, but Eddie was not really his son.” I say, “So he didn’t leave him much. He left me pretty much everything –the company included.”
“Wait, but he had no idea he wasn’t your father’s son? So your father raised him?” Sylvia sounds almost angry. Good to know that that is a normal reaction to have.
“Pretty much.” I say, “I mean; he always gave Eddie a hard time. Like you said, that’s what happens when you’re the older sibling. That’s all we thought it was. Honestly, I was sure that Eddie was going to inherit the company. Eddie knew way more about the company than me –he still does. He thought he was going to walk away as the CEO of Shattered Supplements, but all he got was a summer house that floods every winter, a small sum of cash, and a note telling him he was the result of an affair and basically to go fuck himself.”
“That’s so harsh!” Sylvia rolls her eyes, “Poor guy.”
“Yeah, and it turns out his biological father was a horny bastard. He has all these other half-siblings, each with a different mother, that he is just now finding out about, and they’re a bunch of damn leeches guilt-tripping him into giving them money all the time.” I frown when I think about it, and it really pisses me off, “I mean, who do they think they are? They barely even know him. The way they ask him for money all the time really makes me so pissed. That’s why he’s so broke right now. They can take care of themselves; they’re not some charity case.”
“So… your brother basically feels guilty that he was the lucky sperm who wound up latching onto the egg of a rich broad while the rest of them are struggling to make ends meet… so he gives out money to them… then you make him realize he’s not all that rich at all by making him into a charity case with the raise just like he does with his other siblings?” she questions, “So does that pretty much hit the nail on the head?”
“Damn,” I say, realizing she is right.
We push the conversation aside; she’s given me a bit to think about. Soon we are landing, and she laughs when she realizes we are in Paris. “What’s this?” she asks, “Do you take all your girlfriends to Paris? I bet this gets you laid every time.”
“Not exactly.” I say, “Don’t you realize what is taking place in Paris today?”
She pauses, and then her eyes light up. “The Tour de France? Are you serious? We’re coming to see the Tour de France?” The athlete in her is about to explode.
“Oh, no.” I say, “We’re going to bike it.”
“What?” she questions, “We don’t… I don’t… we don’t have a team, and we haven’t trained…”
“Relax.” I say, “We’re not going in the actual race. I called in favor. You and I will be heading out a few hours before the race begins. They were not going to let me anywhere near the tracks during race time.”
<
br /> You better believe that she is beyond thrilled. What athlete doesn’t dream of biking the Tour de France? Before we head out, we change into some workout attire. It’s going to be a hell of a ride. The bikes I ordered are waiting for us as volunteers are still setting up for the race. “You ready?” I ask as we make our way towards the starting gate. She is more than ready. The two of us speed through the race, exhausted incredibly early on. We wind up halfway through the track before having to stop for half an hour to stretch and laugh about not being quite up to par with our biking abilities. We’re off again, and soon we complete the track just as the actual racers are heading towards the lineup. We’re exhausted, but we hang out to watch the race anyways.
By the end of the day, we’re both incredibly tired, but that does not stop us from renting a hotel room for a little after-race party of our own. She does not have sex with me, of course. She’s clearly classier than I had anticipated. No sex on a first date despite how amazing it was sort of rule. I can respect that, but now she’s made it a challenge. We wind up collapsing in bed together, and she makes me cuddle. I don’t mind. She is my fantasy girl, after all.
12
I am just having a lazy afternoon in my apartment when I go to answer a knock on the door. I probably should have checked the peephole. As soon as I opened the door, Éclair slipped in and closed the door behind her. “I only have an hour,” she says and throws her purse and kicks off her shoes right by the front door. She tosses her coat off and puts her hands against my chest, pushing be back towards the bedroom. The joys of having an anti-relationship relationship.
“Whoa, hold up-” I start to say, and she backs me into my bedroom door. She presses her lips into mine and pulls at my shirt. Éclair starts to work her hand up my shirt to touch my bare chest. She must have had a rough morning. I almost go along with it, but I break my lips away from hers and put my hands on her hips to gently pull her off me. “Éclair…”
“What?” she snaps, “What’s got into you today?”
“I’m, uh,” I am not really sure what to say exactly to prevent her from giving me hell; I deduce that there is no way to phrase it without receiving her wrath. I just go for it, “I’m seeing someone.”
She laughs, “Oh? Are you?” She keeps touching me as though she thinks I’m joking and I’m going to strip down for her right now. “Are you two exclusive?”
“Well,” I speak nervously, “Not exactly. We have not really talked about that yet.”
“Who is the lucky lady?” Éclair asks and puts her hands on her hips, still standing uncomfortably close to me.
“Her name is Sylvia. You used her as a model once.” I say.
“A model? I’m impressed.” Éclair laughs again, “Sylvia? The name does not sound familiar. But I have used a lot of models. Well, if you two are not exclusive, I see no reason why-” she reaches out and touches my chest, but I pull away and step aside so that she can no longer back me into the door.
“Knock it off, Éclair,” I say although she is right. Sylvia and I have not even had sex yet; it’s not like we’re official. “Whatever this is between you and me, I can’t keep it up right now.”
Éclair rolls her eyes, “Listen, James. Whatever is going on between you and this Sylvia person is not going to last. Do you know why?”
I frown, not caring for her assumption, “No, why?”
“Because you have no idea how to operate in an actual relationship, James.” She says, “You have no idea what to do. You and I have something that works. It’s just sex. What are you going to do when it is something more than that?” She kisses me again.
I guess I convince myself that she is right. The next thing I know we are heading back to the bedroom, and she gets us both out of our clothes fast. She throws herself back onto my bed and spreads her legs. I climb onto the bed and go to kiss her face, but she stops me and grabs me by my ears, pulling my face down to her. She knows I’m such a desperate dumbass in the bedroom that I’ll do anything. She makes me lick her labia before she lets me obtain any sort of satisfaction for myself. She spreads her legs wide; I start to work my way up, but she pushes my head back down. Really? I keep going for a few more minutes before I attempt to move again, but this time when she tries to push my head back down I grab her by her wrists and hold them above her head while I plunge inside of her. “Assertive, aren’t we?” she asks.
“Shut up,” I say. I know she likes it when I take the lead, but she will never admit it to me. She likes to be the one in control most of the time, but so do I. It’s like a constant battle whenever we’re in bed together. She’s really wet after my mouth work, so this is becoming increasingly pleasurable for me. I squeeze her wrists when she tries to move, and she groans excitedly. Yes, I know she likes me to show her that I can be in control.
When it’s all said and done, she does not take her time. She has to get back to work. Like she said, she only had an hour, and I wasted time arguing with her about whether or not we were going to sleep together at all. I am home, and it’s my day off, so I don’t rush to get dressed. I might just walk around naked. Who cares? It’s my apartment.
Éclair redoes her makeup in my master bath, and when she comes back into my bedroom, she says, “Listen, James, I am not into being the whole other woman, if you know what I mean. When or if things get serious between you and this Sylvia woman, I’ll happily step back and find myself a new fuck buddy, but for now, don’t waste my time arguing with me.” She leaves my apartment, letting herself out. I laugh at myself once she leaves. I laugh because I’m picturing myself in a serious relationship. Who knows? I mean, I just met Sylvia, but we will see what happens.
13
After a slightly less extravagant but equally kinetic date with Sylvia, I wind up giving her a tour of my office building and factory. She is fairly interested in my supplements (that or she is pretending to be to impress me), but she has a lot of stashed supplements from Éclair’s brand after having modeled for the company. “Well then,” I tease, “Supporting my competition are we?”
“Sweetie, you knew this when we met.” She teases right back.
The office becomes boring after a while as does the factory. I make the suggestion that I take her to the gym after hours, and she seems interested in that as well. On the drive over, I tell her about the rock wall, the sauna, and all of the other impressive perks. She says she is eager to hit the rock wall once we get there, so we do. After the rock wall, I convince her to head to the pool. This is where I am hoping to shine. I still have not had sex with her, but I am determined as hell to get lucky with my fantasy girl on date number two.
We grab some bathing suits from the gift shop and dive in. She looks fine as hell even in the not-so-skimpy one piece we sell at the gift shop. “Too bad you didn’t tell me were coming here,” she jokes as she glides closer to me in the book, “I would have brought my bikini.”
I feel myself blushing, “I would have liked to have seen that.” I say and use the opportunity of her coming so close to put my hands on her hips and go in for a kiss. Just as planned, the kiss lasts a lot longer than a peck. She does the same sort of impressive tongue movement that Éclair is notorious for, and it forces me to have to wipe Éclair from my mind. The last thing I want is to be in bed with Sylvia and call her by the wrong name due to the force of habit.
I decide to test the waters to see if she is up for more than just kissing in the pool. She’s not a slut like women I’ve dealt with in the past, but I like that about her. Like a young high school kid, I work my way past first base with caution so as not to offend or scare her off too quickly. I wind up pushing her back towards the edge of the pool, and I press my body closer to hers as one of my hands touch her breasts atop her bathing suit.
Next, I start to work my hand down her front, touching her stomach first before venturing further south until my hand is rubbing her between her legs. I pull her closer with my other hand, and I hear her groan in my ear, “Mmmmm….” She says, “
I don’t suppose there is somewhere we could…”
I’m on it. The two of us are up in my office in record time. We wrapped up in each other’s tight embrace with our lips locked before we even make it through the door. I have to kick the door shut behind me because she is pulling me closer to her. We are so incredibly entrapped with one another that we bump into the walls and coffee table trying to make it to the couch, our lips never departing.
I have to help her peel off her wet bathing suit, and I see her naked for the first time. It is way better than I had even imagined. She is perfect. I think I get a little light headed as blood rushes to my groin from the incredible excitement I am feeling. “What?” she asks, realizing that I am staring.
“You’re absolutely stunning,” I say, and I think I hear her stifle a giggle.
She throws herself onto my lap, and I’m regretting that my bathing suit is still on. I run my hands up and down her back as I stare at her front side, still dripping wet from the pool. She reaches down and touches the outside of my bathing suit just as she is leaning forward for another incredibly passionate kiss. This woman is absolutely incredible. I feel her lean back to put her feet on the floor in front of the couch and grab my bathing suit at both hips, prepared to help me yank them down.
It is at this moment that my office door flies open. I really should learn to lock that thing. It’s Eddie, of course. “Damn it, man!” Eddie shouts.
Sylvia shrieks embarrassingly and grabs her bathing suit; she runs behind my desk to shield her naked body from Eddie. Is he cussing at me? He’s becoming a serious cock block! I was so damn close; there is no way she is still going to be in the mood now. “Eddie, chill.” I snap.
Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection Page 54