by Paige North
“Barrett uses it for takeoff in his crop duster. It’s the only place around that I could land my plane.”
“This isn’t your plane,” she says, looking at me.
I concede. “One of my planes.”
Jessa shakes her head slowly. “Well, Mr. Frost. Little did I know…”
I kiss her hand. “Honey, you’ve still got a lot to learn about me.”
When we arrive in the city, a limousine is there on the tarmac to pick us up, and once we’re inside and the car is taking off, Jessa says, “Wait!”
“What is it?” I ask, my heart pumping, thinking she remembered something about Lucy.
“My suitcase! I never even put it on the plane.”
I chuckle at her cute nerves. “It’s okay. Someone took care of it. It’ll be at my apartment later tonight.”
She sits back. “Oh, okay. Guess I’m not used to all this.”
“Get comfortable,” I say. “There’s a lot more to come.”
“Are we going to your apartment?” she asks. “I’ve always wondered what it looked like.”
“Always wondered? Does that mean you’ve been thinking about me all these years?”
I was trying to tease her, but she says, “Yes, of course I have. I’ve thought of you every day.”
I swallow hard, feeling guilty. I’ve thought of her too, in every move and decision I made. She still has no idea that it’s all been for her. Bringing her here, to my new home turf is, in a way, so that I can finally show her that I have been thinking of her this entire time.
She never left my mind.
And the way she’s looking at me now shows me that she needs some reassurance. I stroke her cheek and gently kiss her, my tongue grazing hers so softly. Kissing Jessa, being so close to her, feels like all the home I need. She leans more into me and wraps her arms around my neck. I run my hand over the curve of her hip and around to her ass, tugging her in a little closer. Just as I’m getting going, the car stops.
“Shit,” I mutter. “I guess we’re here.”
“You totally messed up my makeup,” Jessa says.
I kiss her again. “You look perfect.”
I help her out of the car. I’ve made reservations at The Carlisle Palace, a classic restaurant in a gorgeously restored building right in the middle of the city. It’s three floors of the world’s best wine, steak, seafood and service.
“God, I’ve heard of this place,” Jessa says, her eyes darting around her as a doorman opens the door for us. “I think the chef guy was on a cooking show I saw once.”
“Michael Mirto is a friend,” I say.
“That’s his name! Wait, you know him?”
“I hired him to do a couple of formal dinners at my place—corporate stuff, for investors. We became friends. A bunch of us went skiing in Aspen last winter.”
“No kidding,” she says.
“Good evening, Mr. Frost,” the maître d’ says.
“Hi, Connor. Good to see you.”
“Indeed,” he says with a little bow of his head. “We have your table ready for you.”
We follow him through the restaurant, which is dim with heavy oak fixtures and thick velvet curtains. A band plays old crooner music near the bar, and some couples dance slowly. Connor leads us to the old-fashioned elevator, which is open on all sides with a view into the lounge and bar.
“After you,” he says to Jessa, and I follow her in.
“Russell will take you up. Enjoy your meal.”
The chain door is slid shut by Russell, and up we go, views on all sides like we’re in a birdcage. Jessa’s face is bright a kid’s as she watches through the grates as we ascend to the third floor.
When we get to our table, I do the honors of pulling out her chair as she sits down. The music from the band drifts up through the shoot of the open floors.
“This place is amazing,” Jessa says, staring around wide-eyed. “God, I guess I didn’t realize how long it’s been since I’ve really gotten out.”
“Better than Rusty’s, right?”
She shoots me a look. “I love Rusty’s. Stop knocking it.”
The sommelier comes by for our wine order, and Jessa defers to me. Truthfully, I’m showing off a little with Clement, the sommelier, who has also been to my apartment here in the city.
“It’s not like the oh-seven Bordeaux is it?” I ask him. “That was a little woodsy for me.”
“I know what you mean,” Clement says. “No, this one has a lighter touch. It has some fresh berry notes with a hint of snap pea. It’s very nice.”
“Wonderful. We’ll try it,” I say, handing the wine menu back.
After Clement leaves Jessa says, “Okay, I have no idea what that was about but I think you just ordered a bottle of red wine?”
I laugh. “It’s mostly bullshit talk, but yeah, I ordered a red. And if you don’t like it, please tell me. We don’t have to drink it.”
“Like I know the difference between good wine and boxed wine.”
“Hey, boxed wine has come a long way,” I say, which makes her smile. She settles back into her seat, a satisfied smile on her face. I want her to look this happy all the time. I’m sure I can do it for her—keep her happy, content, well cared for.
“There’s another place not far from here,” I tell her, “that serves the best dumplings. I’ll take you and Lucy there next time.”
“Next time, huh?” she says. “I like the sound of that.”
“Jessa,” I tell her. “This is just the beginning.”
Clement brings the wine. I taste and approve of it. When he serves us both and leaves I hold up my glass to Jessa.
“To the beginning,” I say.
“To the beginning,” she says, and we clink glasses.
Jessa
Dinner is absolutely amazing. I may not know good wine, and maybe I think the diner in Morningside Valley is the greatest food in the world, but when I taste this food and sip this wine, I know I’m actually having the best food of my life.
Cole is a perfect gentleman the whole night, making sure I have enough of everything. I’m about to bust of out my little dress I’m so full. When Cole suggests a little dancing after dinner, I’m all for it.
The band downstairs plays a good mix of lively and slow music, all old school stuff right out of a Humphrey Bogart movie. Cole holds me close no matter the music, our bodies pressed together, his hand in mine. Other couples look at us and smile—in fact, I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling the whole night. I’m just so happy—there’s no fancy way of saying it. I’m having the best night of my life with Cole.
“I don’t want the night to end,” I tell him as we sway to the music.
“It doesn’t have to end, Jessa. It can be like this always.”
I want to believe him. I really do.
But I’m scared to trust again and then have all of this ripped away…
I rest my head on his chest as I follow his lead around the dance floor. Lucy would have a blast visiting the city. I’ve always planned to bring her here for a day, but maybe when she’s a bit older and can appreciate it more.
A couple of songs later and the band takes a break.
“Do you want another drink?” Cole asks. “Or do you want to go somewhere else?”
“Like where?”
“It’s still early,” he says. “Why don’t we go for a stroll and head down to my apartment. It’s not far.”
I agree, and off we go.
The air outside is cool, sending chills down my arms. Cole takes off his suit jacket and wraps it around my shoulders.
There’s a constant hum in the air, the city noise is a constant. Cars sail down the street, people still hustle down the sidewalk even at this hour, and shops are still doing business.
“Do people ever slow down here?” I ask. “Normally I’d be in bed with a book by this hour.”
“Everyone here has big goals they’re trying to achieve,” Cole says. “They never stop working.”
“I have goals,” I say, feeling defensive. “To raise a strong, independent girl who is healthy and happy.”
“You’re well on your way to that one,” Cole says. “Just two blocks from my apartment is one of the best private schools in the country. It’s small, highly focused on the individual kid. From kindergarten all the way to senior year. Lucy could stay at the same school for her entire education, until college of course.”
My stomach tightens, a knot of anxiety forming there.
“Cole,” I say. “She’s only three. And by way, already so excited about going into Miss Culbert’s kindergarten class in a couple of years. There’s a couple of kids in the neighborhood who are the same age as Lucy. I always pictured her growing up with those kids.”
“Or she can grow up with the kids here. The museum is two blocks that way,” he says as we cross the street. “One of five in the city. Lucy will love it. So will you.”
“Can we not talk about it right now?” I say. The perfect night is suddenly feeling a bit heavy. I feel like Cole is trying to sell me this life, like there’s a hidden agenda to all of this flash and seduction.
Mostly, though, I just don’t want to talk about Lucy’s schooling right now. I want to stay in this perfect night for a few more hours.
“Here’s my building,” Cole says, breaking the slightly awkward silence after a moment.
“Whoa,” I say, looking up at the giant skyscraper. It must be at least eighty stories high. A doorman opens the door for us, and we enter an opulent foyer, rich in cream marble and perfect lighting. The gentleman behind the desk greets Cole and when we get in the elevator Cole uses a special key, then pushes the button marked PH.
“What’s that mean?” I ask.
“Penthouse,” he says, and I think, Duh, of course.
The elevator whizzes us up so quickly and smoothly that my ears pop on the way. It’s a small thing, but I can’t remember the last time I was even in an elevator. I start to realize how comfortable I am in Morningside Valley, and how much energy Lucy takes up. I love every second of it, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for me to get out more, have adult nights like this with Cole.
Of course, Cole seems to want more than just one or two nights like this. He seems to want us to be in the city, to live a totally different existence.
I push that away, because that road leads to bigger, scarier questions I don’t want to try and answer.
The elevator door opens directly into his apartment. But how could it be called an apartment? To me, that sounds like a small place crammed with furniture and old fixtures. This place is basically a mansion in the sky.
“Come on in,” Cole says. When I don’t move he takes my hand. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, giving my head a little shake. “I’ve just…wow, I’ve never been in a place like this.”
Cole steps towards me. He brushes his fingers over my jaw, then kisses me so delicately on my lips that it’s hardly a touch. Still, it sends wild, anxious signals down my entire body.
Quietly, with his face so close to mine, he says, “Better get used to it.”
My head is spinning and I’m wet between my legs. Jesus, Cole can get me with the smallest touch, or even a few words.
I follow him into the apartment. I drape his suit jacket over a chair and get a good look at him from behind. The shirt and pants fit him so perfectly, enough to show the muscles in his arms and across his back. When he turns back to me it’s clear that the pants are tight in the crotch—in the best, most meaningful way. I go to him and run my hand over his dick. Cole’s eyes fall shut for a moment as I feel his cock lengthen beneath my hand.
“I never got to tell you,” I say, “how sexy and gorgeous you look tonight.”
“Not nearly as good as you,” he says. I keep gently rubbing his dick until it’s at full length. “Jesus, I love your hand on me.”
“I love your cock in my hand,” I say. I act like I’m really considering something when I say, “I can’t decide where I like it better—my mouth or my pussy.”
“Jessa, my god,” he says. He takes my face in both his hands. “Watch that dirty little mouth of yours.”
“Or what? You’ll stuff your cock in it?”
He growls and then covers my mouth with his. His lips press hard onto mine, his tongue pushing its way into my mouth, taking control. I’ve never talked like that before, but it feels really sexy. Clearly it drives Cole wild too, which only gets me wetter. His tongue is all over mine, feeling me, going deeper as we taste and feel more of each other. When he pulls back, I’m breathless, my mouth raw.
He pulls down the shoulder of my dress and kisses my skin. He tugs the dress down further, exposing my breast, which he gathers in his hand. His lips trail across my shoulder and down my chest, licking along the way. When his mouth covers my nipples, so hard for him, I cry out. He sucks my tit, his tongue flicking over my hard pink nipple. I pull his head into me even more, pushing for him to suck even harder, even more, which he does, and eagerly. He pulls the rest of my dress down to my waist, exposing both my breasts. My pussy is throbbing for him and I push my hips into him to feel his giant cock. I keep my hands on his head so that he keeps taking in my nipples.
He makes work of my other tit but his hand never leaves me exposed. He’s kneading and sucking me, pulling my nipple through his teeth until I cry out, wanting more even through the slight pain. Finally I can’t take it anymore, and I move his hand down to my crotch.
“Feel how wet you make me,” I tell him. I want his fingers inside me more than I want air. I beg for him to feel my pussy. “It’s waiting for you,” I tell him, moving his hand over my dress on top of my crotch. But Cole Frost likes to be in charge. The more I push him, the more he makes me wait.
He takes his mouth off my tit with a strong pull, making me gasp. He sits at a chair and says, “Stand in front of me. Take everything off.”
I walk to him and step out of my dress and shoes. His eyes rake over every inch of me, taking it all in. I feel somewhat self-conscious, hoping that he likes what he sees, even though I can see from the bulge in those tight pants that he’s loving what he sees.
He runs his hand over my black lace panties and says, “You’re soaked through. I told you to take everything off.” He moves his hand around to my ass and pops it with his hand, startling me. The sting is small but it snaps me out of my haze of ecstasy. “Take them off, or I’m not going to make you come.”
I peel them off, kicking them to the side.
“I can smell you,” Cole says. “That pussy of yours is so wet and ready for me, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “It’s always ready for you.”
He slides his fingers along the wall of my pussy, so slick with my want. Cole watches my face as he rubs my cunt. My clit is swollen, my walls are throbbing, and his fingers are only making me want more. He holds my hip with one hand as he puts two fingers into my entrance. The sensation is overwhelming as he pumps slowly into me. I feel lightheaded and I don’t know if my feet will keep me standing. I have to rest my hand on his shoulder to steady myself.
His fingers dig up into me and I know my juices have soaked his hand. I rock my hips into him but he digs into my skin, telling me with his hands to let him set the pace. When he pulls his fingers out to tease my clit, I feel certain my knees are going to buckle.
“Cole, please,” I pant. “I can’t stand anymore.”
“Hang on, Jessa,” he says, teasing my clit even more, giving it a slight pinch and circling it with his finger. He circles it harder, faster before dipping back into my well, fucking me with his fingers. He adds a third finger, stretching my greedy walls even more. I feel like fainting, I’m panting so hard. My cheeks feel like fire as my pussy fucks Cole’s hand like it’s got a mind of its own. “Look how much you want it,” Cole says. “I’m going to give you everything tonight. I’m going to make you come so many times, Jessa. We haven’t even started.”
Hearing hi
s voice telling me there’s so much more to come sends me reeling. When his fingers play on my clit again, that’s all I need. I’m crashing over, coming all over his hand. I’m gripping his shoulder, holding on for dear life as I cry out with pleasure.
“You’re so sexy when you come,” he tells me.
I finally open my eyes and take in the sight of him, watching me. I can’t stand any longer—my legs are like jelly—so I lower myself to my knees.
I nuzzle my face across his dick, straining in his pants, the fabric as soft as his dick is hard. I rub my face across him, over my cheeks and back again. I open my mouth and wrap my lips around the edge of him, getting a feel for how big he is.
I unbutton his shirt and help him out of it. His chest and arms are so hard and strong and I start my kisses, trailing across his chest as my hands get to work on his pants. I lick his nipple and he sucks in a breath. I let my tongue and lips leave a trail down lower and lower, headed for what my mouth wants the most. With one pull and his hips raised slightly, I yank down his pants and underwear, tossing the fine fabric off to the side. When his dick stands before me it’s sheer size takes me aback, like it always does. It’s intimidating, but I want it so badly.
Cole takes himself in his hand and gives his dick a long, slow pull. He angles it toward my face. I look up at him and open wide.
“Stick out your tongue,” he tells me and I do. “Put your ass up in the air.” I arch my back and stick my ass up higher in the air. It’s good because it leans me forward, closer to that cock that I want so desperately. Cole takes his dick and slaps it down on my tongue. He does it again and again, and it’s crude, but I love it. It’s such a tease because I want it in my mouth, I want to see how much of him I can take in this time, but he’s taking it away from me so quickly. I dig my fingers into his thighs, the only way I can beg him.
Finally he stops. “Suck that head,” he tells me. The top of his dick is purple and bulbous, big as a plum. I wrap my lips just around the top and suck for him. I suck him like he’s a lollipop.
“Jesus fuck, your mouth is so good.”
He pulls back, my mouth popping off. I rest my forearms on his thighs to get closer. Even though he’s still holding himself, I lick him from the base all the way to the tip. He loves it, his sighs tell me so. He lets me keep licking him up, over the thick heavy vein, swirling my tongue around the top. I run my hands over the six-pack of his abs, rippling with strength and getting me ever hotter.