Haute Couture

by Joslyn Westbrook

  “There you go, little guy, are you hungry now? You want some food?”

  Truffles replies with his signature arf, which means whatever anyone wants it to mean.

  I open my eyes, and look around, the bed sheets tussled from another lovemaking session shortly after 5 a.m. The digital clock display on his nightstand says 7:15 a.m. Since it’s Saturday, I don’t really want to get up, but I have to go into the office for a few hours to make sure everyone is still on track with timelines for the launch.

  Grabbing his shirt, I slip it over my head and follow the sound of his voice until I turn the corner out of the hallway and into the living room. The sight of him playing with Truffles makes my heart smile.

  “Hi,” I say.

  He whirls around, now facing me, his naked chest a lovely sight to see. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” He walks up to me, hooks his arm around my waist, and kisses me.

  “You’re gonna make me want you all over again,” I say, biting his lower lip.

  “Mmmhmm,” he hums, through our kisses, “tell me about it. How long do we have before you have to get ready for work?”

  “An hour.”

  “We can do a lot in an hour.”

  Chapter 28

  Jaxson

  I’m free falling and I don’t care how hard I land.

  Lauren is everything I imagined her to be.

  Sweet. Loving. A fucking goddess.

  Oh, how I miss her and I only dropped her off a few hours ago.

  Truffles and I have been hanging out, in the garden, the basement, the kitchen, and now we are chillin’ in the living room. He followed me around all over, a great companion to talk to earlier, as I finished up some last-minute things regarding the town cars Gramps asked me to sell.

  And now we sit and wait for the rest of the time to go by until we go pick up his mommy. It’s not a full work day, so we’ll get her in a little over an hour.

  She’s asked to stay here for a while, and of course I don’t mind. Having her here with me, next to me, under, or even on top of me, during our most sexy times, is something dreams are made of.

  My phone rings and I look, hoping it’s Lauren, calling to say she’s ready now.

  But fuck. It’s my damn agent, calling…again. I should just answer it, tell him once and for all I’m not doing anymore reality shows.

  I answer via speakerphone. “Look Ryan, I don’t know why you keep calling me, but it better not be about another reality show.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, Jax, take a chill pill, dude. Hasn’t Paris been okay for you?”

  He’s always had the tendency to be a prick.

  “Spill it, Ryan,” I say, hoping my eye roll comes through in my tone.

  “Dude, I’ve been trying to reach you forever. I really think I have something you won’t mind doing at all.”

  His salesman pitch in full force.

  “Don’t sugarcoat it, Ryan. Just tell me.”

  “Okay so, uh, Antonio Michaels, the CEO of CraveMe Lingerie is launching a new line of men’s underwear exclusively with a brand new online magazine. Anyway, he’s been seeking you out for the exclusive one-page spread, you being the face of the new line.”

  I sit up on the couch now, my interest piqued. “Okay, I’m listening.”

  “Right. Well, he wants you and all of your glorious assets to pose, wearing the new line of underwear, with the caption Um Yes, Just Yes…you know, playing up what Dixie Lane said when—”

  “I know what it’s playing up, Ryan. And the answer is no. You know I’m trying to put that all behind me. Doing that, with that caption, will call attention to it all over again.”

  “But this time you’ll have the upper hand, showing all of the world your victory dance, so to speak.”

  “And what do you mean by showing all of the world? What type of magazine is this for?”

  “It’s a magazine named after a well-known clothing line, and the digital imprint of this magazine is expected to have a large international reach.”

  “What’s the name of the magazine, Ryan?”

  “Haute Couture.”

  Fuck.

  The world is just as small as it is large. Especially when it comes to me and Lauren.

  When Ryan told me the magazine exclusive would be with Haute Couture, I damn near blew up.

  I mean, why?

  Why couldn’t it be with another lame-ass nobody publication so I wouldn’t feel bad turning it down?

  But it’s Lauren’s magazine.

  And now I’m stuck, between saying no to rehashing the stupid fucked-up-shit Dixie Lane put me through, or saying yes to help ensure the successful launch of a magazine run by the woman I’m falling in love with.

  Yep. I just went there.

  Ryan tried to sugarcoat it with fortune and fame, yet I am so over that shit. However, I told him I would think about it. Give him an answer in a few days.

  An hour later, I head to HC to pick up Lauren. I haven’t decided how to bring up the topic, and I wonder how much she even knows? I trust if she knew about it she would have told me.

  I park, and wait for her by the elevator, eager to see her and hold her.

  The elevator doors slide open and out she hops, into my arms.

  Where she belongs.

  Of course I kiss her tender lips, then ask, “Are you hungry?” I hold her hand as we walk to my car.

  “Yes, I am. But can we just cook at the villa?”

  “More omelets?” I deliver a cocky grin.

  “Yup.”

  About a half block before we reach my villa, I pull over and stop the car.

  Lauren looks at me, her furrowed brows show her curiosity. “Why are you stopping here?”

  I grab her hand and kiss it. “Baby, I want you to try to drive. I offered to be with you the next time you’re behind the wheel of the car.” I lift my chin toward the distance ahead. “The villa is just ahead. Drive Lauren, baby. I’ll be right in the seat next to you.”

  Tears pool in her eyes. “Okay.” She fans her eyes. “Okay.”

  “Alright, on the count of three, we hop out and switch places.”

  She nods, placing her hand on the car door handle, ready to open it.

  “One, two, three!”

  We both hop out, run around the car, stopping to kiss once, before she ends up on the driver side, and I end up on the passenger side.

  I explain how to adjust the mirrors, and the seat since the Porsche is kind of intricate. And after she makes the adjustments, we both buckle our seatbelts as she places her left hand on the steering wheel and the right hand on the gearshift.

  I reach over, rub her shoulder and neck. “Breathe, Lauren. Just Breathe.”

  Taking a deep breath, she shifts the gear into drive, eases off of the break and onto the gas, gripping the steering wheel so tightly, her knuckles turn pale.

  She takes off, slowly, slowly. Then a little faster, confidence building, building. Now, she’s driving about fifteen miles per hour, breathing in and out until we reach the villa’s driveway, turning in, and up the driveway before easing to a stop.

  Shifting the car into Park, she turns and looks at me and says, “Jaxson Malone, you’re my freaking hero.”

  Chapter 29

  Lauren

  He’s like finding a Unicorn. My morning coffee. Sweet Iced Tea on a hot day.

  In other words, Jaxson Malone is everything.

  We’re back in the villa now, preparing bacon and veggie omelets. Even Truffles has joined in on our kitchen party, albeit only to pick up anything that slips onto the floor. Particularly bacon.

  I like it here. Peaceful. Serene. I cringe at the thought of going back to Chateau De Grenelle and bumping into Simon the Snake. Mainly because I don’t know what I’ll do.

  Slap him. Probably.

  Arabella is beside herself with a mix of bittersweetness. I reached her via FaceTime while I was at the office today and while she was pissed off that Simon is a leach, I swear the woman is a
hot-mess-happy things are happening between me and Jaxson.

  So am I.

  “Hey, why so quiet?” Jaxson asks, ripping me from my thoughts. He’s the one doing the actual cooking, I’m just acting as the sous chef, cutting up veggies.

  I bring my eyes up from the cutting board and on to him. “Oh, I’m just thinking, that’s all.”

  He picks up a piece of crispy bacon and feeds it to me. “Thinking about what?”

  “You know, stuff,” I say, playfully nudging him.

  He grins. “Good…stuff?”

  “Absolutely.”

  We sit down to eat our omelets, Truffles off in the corner, munching away on kibble.

  Jaxson pins a set of curious eyes on me and says, “I got a call from my agent earlier today. I had been avoiding him since I got to Paris.”

  I tilt my head. “Really? Why?”

  “Honestly, I didn’t want him to bug me about doing another reality TV show, or some ridiculous spin-off. So each time he called, I sent it to voicemail. Never did listen to them.”

  “And what did he have to say, assuming you spoke with him today?”

  He shifts in his seat, chewing a bite of food. “Well, he said he’d been trying to reach me about posing for an ad in a digital magazine. For a new line of men’s underwear.”

  My eyebrows raise; wouldn’t it be a strange coincidence if the new line of underwear his agent is calling about is—

  “For Antonio Michaels.”

  My jaw drops. “No. Way.” I smile.

  His mouth goes flat. “Yes. And the digital magazine is Haute Couture.”

  I put my fork down and shift in my seat, tucking one leg under me. “Jaxson, why do I get the impression this isn’t something you want?”

  He rolls his shoulders, looking to the ceiling, before his eyes land back on me. “Truthfully, my interest was highly piqued. I mean, Antonio sought me out to be the face of his new line. Me.”

  I nod, reaching over to his hair, running my fingers through it. “But?”

  “But, the caption he wants to use is Um Yes, Just Yes, a take on—”

  “What that witch Dixie Lane said in front of millions.”

  He lowers his head. “Yep.”

  I rise from my seat, move behind Jaxson’s chair and massage his shoulders, trying to ease his building tension. “What are you going to do? What do you want to do?”

  He scoffs. “I don’t even know. I mean, true this is a great opportunity for me. Get back into modeling, be the face of something big. Plus, it’s an exclusive gig for your magazine and I—”

  “Hey.” I lean into the back of his shoulders and softly say in his ear, “Don’t you make this decision feeling like you have to do this for me. This is about you. What you want.”

  Jaxson spins around in his seat. His once-inquisitive eyes are now glazed with certainty. “Now, more than ever, I know what I want.” He rises to his feet, takes my face in his hands. “Baby, I want you.”

  His kiss sends chills plus all the thrills causing me to melt into him as he lifts me up. With my legs wrapped around his waist, I remove my blouse, then my bra, flinging them both to the floor as he carries me to his bedroom.

  “Oh God, Lauren, where have you been all my life?” he growls, kicking the door open.

  We land on the bed, him on top, between my legs, grinding into me. “I can ask you the same question,” I say, my voice low and shaky as he moves his mouth from my lips, down my neck, and onto my breast.

  He bites my nipple, just enough to cause me to arch into him, then he licks it, soothing it. Like fire and ice. As his lips and mouth continue their exploration, now down my belly, I rake my fingers through his hair, watching as he gets closer to my waistline.

  He unfastens my jeans, lowering the zipper as I raise my hips, allowing him to slowly drag my jeans off. I lie naked, save my hot-pink lacy thong, as his dark eyes move over me, perusing, cruising, studying every angle, every curve.

  And when he climbs back on the bed and nestles between my thighs, he whispers, “I could make love to you forever,” before he kisses me long and tender.

  I feel the length of his hardness teasing me. Except for his shoes and socks, he’s still fully dressed. “Take your clothes off,” I demand in a hushed tone.

  Jaxson chuckles and nips the shell of my ear. “Not yet,” he hums.

  I shiver, tugging at his shirt, but he moves down south, licking, leaving trails of sensual, hot, wet kisses on my breasts, belly, and now at my waist, his teeth tugging at my lacy thong. I begin to pant, in, out, my mind mush as he eases me out of my panties.

  My head spins. This is really happening. No one has—

  “I wanna taste you, make you c—”

  “Jaxson, I—no one has ever—”

  “Shhhh,” he murmurs. “Just lay back, baby.”

  My legs tremble and I swear I see stars when his finger barely traces my sensitive nub. His frictional sequence of kisses, licks, sucks, and finger thrusts send me to oh-my-fucking-gosh-ville. A place of never-ending orgasms and vibrant fireworks.

  Chapter 30

  Jaxson

  I had to have her. Right then.

  When she said I needed to choose what was right for me, I realized she really cares. I admit, part of me wondered if she was gonna sit there, try to talk me into doing the men’s underwear gig because it’s for her magazine, after all.

  But she didn’t. And that made me want to make love to her.

  So I did. Three times. Damn, she’s so beautifully hot.

  But, I still haven’t decided if I am going to accept the job yet. Fuck Dixie Lane.

  We’re still on my bed—she’s lying on her belly, elbows propped up on the pillow, as she looks up at me, a satisfied glow, her long lashes fluttering.

  Leaning forward, I kiss Lauren on the nose. “You make my heart smile. Beat again. I’m falling in love with you.”

  Her cheeks pink up. “I’m falling in love with you too, Jaxson. Hard.”

  Arf! yelps Truffles. His paw is raised as he sits in front of the open bedroom door.

  “You wanna go outside, little guy?” I say, slipping out of bed, and into my shorts. “Come on, let me take you out to handle your business.”

  When Truffles and I get back inside, Lauren is in the kitchen cleaning what’s left of our dinner. We didn’t really eat, since I swooped her into the bedroom just after having a few bites. The food is cold now and it’s dark outside. The two of us stayed occupied longer than I thought.

  “You hungry, baby?” I ask, now helping with the clean up.

  “No, but I can take a light snack. You got any microwave popcorn?”

  “Yep, sure do. Wanna have popcorn and stream a movie?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  In the living room, we get settled cozy on the couch with a bowl of popcorn while I search for a movie. Truffles has taken custody of one of the pillows from the couch, turning it into a bed. He’s actually perfect, too.

  Still searching for a movie, Lauren runs her fingers through my hair.

  God it feels good when she does that.

  If she’s not careful, I may just take her right on this couch.

  Her gaze is fixed, laced with purpose. “Jaxson, sweetie, I want you to know I would never hurt you the way she did.”

  The sound of her accent still warms me up. Every single time. Like the sun on a cloudy day.

  I bring her hand to my mouth, kissing her fingers one by one. “I know you won’t, beautiful.”

  Truth is, Lauren is too good of a person to hurt anyone. I’ll never understand why she is considered an Ice Princess. Anyone who knows her can’t say one bad thing about her.

  Offering a warm smile, she says, “I once heard, to have a broken heart means you’ve tried for something.”

  I try to stop my mouth from curling up in a sneer. “Really? I’ve heard that too.”

  We both chuckle and say, “Eat. Pray. Love.” in unison.

  “Jaxson Malone, you’ve
watched Eat Pray Love?”

  I nod, not embarrassed I enjoy a good chick flick every now and then. “Sure have.”

  She folds her arms, as her calm blue eyes morph into skeptical ones. “Then tell me your favorite line.” She raises her chin as if her question somehow raises the bar.

  “From the movie?” I stammer.

  Eyes squinted, she says, “Yep,” with a purposeful pop on the P.

  I can’t help but smirk, knowing what I’m about to say may very well melt her heart and her panties. Even though I doubt she’s wearing any under that shirt.

  I clear my throat, preparing to speak in a low growled tone. “You don’t need a man, you need a champion.”

  Thirty minutes later, after Lauren practically ripped my shorts off, peeled her shirt off, eased onto my lap, and rode us both into orgasmic paradise, we, once again, sit on the couch, now breathless, our naked bodies under the throw. I point the remote to the TV and begin another movie search as she nibbles on popcorn.

  “Hey,” she says, “how about we watch it?”

  “Watch what?”

  “Eat Pray Love. Duh.”

  I laugh. “Great idea.”

  We watch the movie and nibble on popcorn, still very much cozy-naked under the blanket. I stroke her hair; she rubs my leg. She rests her head on my shoulder. I pull her in close. Then a thought pops in my head.

  “Why do you hate flowers and candy?”

  She picks up the remote and pauses the movie as if she’s preparing us for an in depth convo. She looks at the ceiling, then pins those heart-stopping eyes back on me. “Flowers and candy aren’t forever. Sure, flowers are pretty and candy tastes good. But then they’re gone. Why would a man give the woman he loves something that’ll die or be eaten then forgotten? If a man gifts, he should gift something that means forever. I want forever.”

  I pull her back next to me, and rub her neck and shoulder.

  Then I kiss her softly on the forehead and whisper, “Duly noted, sweetheart.”

  Our blissful weekend comes and goes faster than a Paris rain shower. We pranced around the villa like we were on our honeymoon. Loving. Sexing. Romancing.