With My Body

by Jo Briggs

  “I hope you are ready to go.” Her agent piped up in her usual manner of offering no acknowledgement.

  “Of course," Elle responded, used to the brisk way her agent spoke on the phone. "What time am I getting picked up?”

  “In about 15 minutes.”

  “Ok.”

  “Also we have received a specific request for you from a new client.”

  “Who is the client?”

  “Pemberley Hotels. They're looking for a new face to front their ad campaign,” her agent said casually. “It could be quite rewarding. They have told me so far they have already seen a few others that were unacceptable, and they said Mr. Dexter had asked for you, particularly.” Elle nearly dropped the phone at hearing his name.

  “Do you know which Mr. Dexter? There are two,” Elle asked, taking a deep breath, as she willed herself to relax.

  “I think W. Dexter.” Her agent explained, causing Elle to gulp slightly.

  “Ok, well let me have a think about it”

  “Fine, but don’t take too long. This is an excellent opportunity,” Her agent warned.

  During the drive through to outskirts of London for her flight, she took the opportunity to text William about the flowers using the phone number that had also on the card.

  You guessed well to send the lilies, unless maybe a little birdie told you. They were a lovely surprise. See you tomorrow night, E

  The check in and flight were quick, arriving to a rainy Prague with the lingering raindrops sparkling in red and orange hues from the setting sun. She was met at the airport by the transport who was taking the whole entourage of the photographer and assistant, hairdressers, makeup people, the editor responsible and one other model; a guy called Tom, with whom she had worked with on a few other assignments.

  The shoot lasted until the middle of the night, the concept of black-and-white camera shots, set against diffused neon signs, and medieval, gothic influenced architecture.

  Exhausted, she crashed back at her hotel soon afterwards. Checking her phone, she had several voicemails to listen to, and a couple of text messages. Both Cate and Jess had phoned her to find out what her plans for the weekend were as they were deciding which party invites to accept. The following voicemail was a rich, velvety voice that took her a moment to recognise. It was from William Dexter. Just hearing him speak sent her heart a flutter.

  It was a short recording, saying she had busted him over the flowers, and that he had managed to cancel his late meeting tomorrow, so he could collect her from her house earlier than the eight, they originally agreed. She texted him an answer, thinking he probably would have the phone off, and he would simply read it in the morning. Only a few minutes later, when she returned from a quick shower, she noticed a new message notification flashing on her phone, showing that he had replied.

  W: Hi, have you only just finished work? It must be about 3am there.

  E: Hi, yes after three, and yes, just finished half-hour ago. Why are you up still?

  W: Just wanted to finalise figures for a deal I am closing in the morning.

  E: Ok, I am going to head to bed. I will see you at seven.

  W: Sweet dreams.

  Turning her phone to silent, she snuggled under the bed sheets. His velvety voice echoed through her mind as she tried to drift off to sleep, making her body refuse to wind down into her usual comatose sleep state. Ever since his kiss, she had been in a state of constant arousal and now hearing his voice on the phone had tipped her over the edge. She needed relief and fast. Sighing, she moved to rest on her back, her hand wandering between her legs as it began to rub her sex, while the other teased at her erect nipples. She pictured his wet mouth and tongue trailing over her breasts, his teeth nipping at her hardened nipples in a way she enjoyed. As the fantasy gathered pace, her fingers slipped in and out of her entrance in a frantic motion until her body exploded into a long shuddering spasm as she came hard.

  Kisses in the Rain

  William had managed to shift his late meeting to the following day, thus allowing him to pick up Elle from her house an hour earlier.

  This time he arrived in his own chauffeur driven car. He dressed in an open necked cream shirt, with a black suit with thin vertical stripes printed onto the expensive material that moulded tightly across his narrow hips and firm derriere. Elle could not help, but let her eyes wander from his muscular chest, downwards to his groin, as the tightness of the fabric emphasised his apparent size. Blushing, she had pulled her eyes away after a few seconds, lifting them to meet the dazzling ones of her date.

  Elle had selected a cream sleeveless chiffon dress that a designer had given her as a gift. The cream tone was perfect for her tanned skin, showing off her bare slender arms. It had a high neckline, but the sheerness of the chiffon showed off the outline of her lace lingerie, giving William a tantalising glimpse of what lay beneath.

  The restaurant was heaving with diners when they arrived at Netherfields. The maître de whisked them into a private room at the back that was reserved for family and friends, but William had made sure nobody would be intruding tonight. Several individual flower arrangements decorated the room, and a small round table, laid for two, with a bottle of the restaurant's best champagne cooling in an ice bucket.

  “Are we celebrating something?” Elle asked coyly, gesturing to the champagne, as she seated herself upon the chair William had pulled out for her.

  William smiled innocently, as he sat upon his own chair. “Maybe, if you agree to my proposal.”

  Elle wondered what proposal he would have in mind. Even with the intensity, she felt in her heart whenever he spoke or looked at her, her head remained reserved when it came to overcoming any prejudice against him. “I guess that depends upon the finer details,” she stated, avoiding William’s penetrative gaze, as her intrigue and slight apprehension grow, looking down at the menu contemplating what to order.

  “Did your agent not tell you?” He queried.

  Elle relaxed slightly, now that she understood what offer he had in mind.

  “Oh, yes, she did.”

  He reached for her hand across the table. “Did the idea appeal to you?”

  “It did, and I was flattered, but I do still have certain reservations about accepting.”

  “Please, tell me what reservations you have, and I will try to alleviate those best I can.”

  “Well, I just wonder if you would be so interested in me for the project, if you were not also attempting to date me.”

  William spluttered at this. “You think I am trying to buy your affections?” A shadow of something unreadable crossed his countenance.

  “That is not exactly what I meant, but I am not sure we should incorporate business and pleasure. The press would have a field day that you had only given me the job because we were friends."

  “But your participation in the campaign is only as a one off. You are not going to be on the permanent payroll of my company, whereas, I hope the pleasure side of our friendship would last a lot longer than a one off! I think you would be foolish to turn down such an opportunity, as it can only increase your exposure to additional work.”

  “Perhaps,” She knew it was an excellent opportunity, and could not truly afford to turn her nose up at it simply because she had the odd dinner with the head of the company. “Would you at least agree to keep our dinners quiet while the promotion is going on?”

  “I am not indiscreet about who is in my personal life anyway.” He felt affronted that Elle thought he would be openly discussing their relationship with just anyone.

  “You seem to be wilfully misunderstanding what I am saying, William.”

  “That was not my intention. I only think the project would be beneficial to both of us - just hear me out about what it entails before you make your final decision.”

  “Fine, I am listening.”

  William obliged her by running over a choice of his ideas he would like to get her involved in. Elle had to admit what he proposed cou
ld only be positive exposure for her career. She experienced a twinge of guilt for letting her prejudice against him blur his honourable intentions.

  Elle remained silent, as the door opening, and their waiter making an appearance, interrupted them.

  “Good evening,” He addressed them both. “Would you like to order some drinks before I take your food orders?”

  William looked over at Elle. “Do you want some wine?”

  “A red would be nice.” Elle said relieved at the interruption.

  “We will have a bottle of 2001 Gaja Barbaresco,” William requested without even needing to consult the wine list. “Do you know what you want to eat?” He asked, turning back to Elle from the waiter.

  “Steamed dumplings, followed by the crispy shredded beef,” Elle responded directly to the waiter.

  “I will have the scallops, followed by duck in black bean sauce, with chow mein and egg fried rice on the side.”

  The waiter repeated back the order before departing to get their wine, leaving them alone once more.

  “Ok, I will tentatively agree, with the final agreement depending on seeing the contract, but I still think maybe we should not have any further dinners until it has been launched.”

  William frowned. “You mean not see you for a month?”

  “At least not out in public, unless they are business oriented.” She tried to concede.

  “A month of intimate dinners in the privacy of my home sounds like a delightful alternative perhaps?” He suggested in a teasing tone.

  She blushed, trying to think a witty response.

  “That sounds like the perfect compromise to me.” He continued, trying to tease the seriousness from her stance, noting how she remained edgy around him, even though she gave the notion of enjoying his company. He deeply regretted how the poor impression he had given her, still hung between them.

  “We will have to see if you behave yourself well enough tonight, to see if there will be another dinner.”

  “Do I take that as an invitation to open the champagne later?”

  She gave in, and nodded.

  The rest of the dinner was a haze of bubbles, as she enjoyed a couple of glasses of champagne.

  Taking heed of her wish to avoid the press, William arranged for them to leave the restaurant from the back of the kitchen. After saying their thank yous to his chef, he guided her to the waiting car, which was parked in a quiet street near the restaurant.

  He felt that, despite the hesitation, she showed at times in his company, that they had made significant progress. She enthralled him, making him even more determined to convince her of his integrity, as he wanted her in every aspect of his life, and William Dexter always got what he wanted in the end.

  Behind the darkened glass of the passenger windows, and the privacy screen separating them from his chauffeur, he finally made a move to kiss her. Placing a hand either side of her cheek, he leaned in and pressed his lips softly onto hers. “I have wanted to do that all night.” He whispered huskily, as he moved his lips onto her earlobe and proceeded to nibble it gently, before drawing her soft upper body towards him in a tight embrace. “I will get my assistant to liaise with your agent over schedules, so we can finalise the agreement quickly.”

  “Ok.” She replied softly. Her heart was beating so fast from the kiss. She was sure he must be able to hear its booming sound. She could not think straight in his arms, but the sensation was all too consuming of her sanity to want to break the moment, so allowed herself to surrender to it proceeding to snuggle into his chest silently for a few minutes.

  All too quickly, the luxurious car slowed to a stop outside her house. It was raining, so as Edward opened the door, he handed an open umbrella to William, who exited the vehicle first. Holding her close to his hip, he ran her up her steps quickly, the large brolly protecting them both from the worst of the wind and drizzle. “Do you want to come in?” She asked shyly, feeling both a sense of apprehension and excitement at the same time.

  Using his free hand, he touched the side of her hair affectionately, as he stared down at her face, his thumb rotating over her cheekbone. “I had better not. I have a breakfast meeting starting at 7am, but I will be in touch, as soon as I have a quiet moment.”

  She nodded, kicking herself for perhaps appearing overeager to invite him in.

  “Until next time…” He breathed, brushing his lips to hers in the lightest of touches.

  The First Time

  April 2002

  In spite of many tries for William, Elle, and her agent, Lauren, to make space within their busy schedules to sort out the contract signings during the following three weeks, no progress was made, with each one of them having to cancel at least once, due to other pressing matters. With Dexter Media’s PR department in the driving seat of the deadline, Lauren earned her commission well by negotiating favourable clauses in Elle’s absence.

  Despite their hectic diaries during the daytime, William managed to steal several evenings in Elle’s company. He had taken her to a couple of country pubs situated on the river in Berkshire, where they had less of a chance of the lurking paparazzi spotting them. They talked about everything from books, to travelling, to their love of ballet.

  After their night at Netherfields, they had established a pattern of texts and phone calls most mornings and evenings, when they could not be together. He also began sending fresh flowers to her home so often, Jess and Cate had begun to remark that it was like living in a florist shop.

  Elle seemed to have warmed up to him fourfold in comparison to their shaky start. He felt each evening together, was taking them closer to the conclusion of finally being able to wake up next to her in his bed, instead of the void that greeted him now.

  She was brilliant and gorgeous, with a disposition that challenged him on all levels. He enjoyed that she was not afraid of standing up to him. Where most people might bow and scrape to his every word and whim, even if they did not agree with his opinion or conduct, she would always put him straight. It was this spirit, kindness and natural ability to make people comfortable in her company that pulled him to her so compellingly.

  With the serious negotiations complete, it just left the placement of the inked scrawls of Elle and William on the papers, during a private dinner at his house.

  This would be the first-time Elle had stepped foot into his London home. He had organised for his housekeeper Mrs. Button to do anything she felt necessary to make the meal a success. His intention was to seduce her with an intimate home-cooked meal with a lavish and romantic setting. He hoped tonight would be the night that they could venture further than just kisses, and he wanted it to be perfect.

  William had planned to be at home; all showered and changed when she arrived with his chauffeur, Edward, but his back-to-back meetings overran considerably, and put pay to that plan. By the time, he escaped from his office, time was too tight for Edward to drop him off before heading back to collect Elle.

  His presence on the journey was a pleasant surprise for her. She had been feeling nervous arriving at his home alone, so in reality, she felt relieved to be going there with him instead.

  He drew her soft upper body towards him in a tight embrace as they maintained a contented silence for few minutes.

  “I hope you haven’t gone to sleep,” he teased gently, as he unwound her grip from his torso a little, to look down at her.

  “No, I am just resting my eyes,” she murmured, her eyelids fluttering open.

  “Have you been working long days since I last saw you?” He said concern etched on his features, as he carefully brushed a few wayward curls from her cheek. If only pressures of business would lighten enough, he would whisk them to Derbyshire and live a life of leisure. He wanted to be able to take care of her in every way. He wanted to be her everything, friend, companion, and lover.

  “No, I am not tired; I was merely enjoying a quiet moment in your arms.” She smiled reassuringly, as he silently stared into her eyes. She sens
ed he wanted to kiss her again, but was hesitating for an unknown reason.

  “Well, if you are sure you aren’t overdoing it.”

  “Very sure,” she said, pushing herself up off the seat slightly to touch his lips with hers. Her initiation of a kiss took him by surprise, but he soon recovered, and it quickly deepened in its intensity. His tongue eagerly pushed against the slight parting of her lips, seeking her acceptance of him into her mouth, as a dance of pleasure began.

  His hands began to explore the small of her back through her dress. His hard chest pressed up against her soft mounds, as they leaned into each other. Parting to recover his air supply, he spoke in ragged breaths, “I think it’s safe to say you have bewitched me.” Before she had a chance to utter a response, he tilted towards her, to capture her mouth once again.

  The sound of the car rolling over the gravel echoed, as it slowed down considerably and then, came to a stop. “We are here,” he said, sighing against her lips. They drew apart reluctantly, and Elle swept a hand self-consciously through her mass of curls, trying to smooth out the unkempt look; she was sure she now wore.

  Edward opened the door, and William stepped out first, stopping by the side of the car door and holding out a hand to aid Elle in slipping from the car.

  The house was set back in its plot, and surrounded by a dimly lit, walled garden It was of old Georgian style, with large sash windows that glowed with a welcoming ambience of lighting, when standing in the driveway looking in. As they made their way up the stone steps, to the wide front door, a smartly dressed woman greeted them. “Mr. Dexter, I hope you had a pleasant day,” she uttered, before turning to smile at Elle. “Ah, and Miss Benedict isn’t it? Welcome to Pembridge House, I am Mrs. Button, the housekeeper.”

  Elle returned the woman’s smile warmly. “Thank you, Mrs. Button.” She stared in awe at the hallway that had marble on the floor, and a large old-fashioned wooden staircase that swept up to the above floor in a wide arc. A grandfather clock stood against one of the walls, showing the time of ten past seven.