Perfect Plans

by C. J. Wells

  Given the circumstances, however, it is what it is, I think to myself, stepping inside the elevator. I’m a pro at change these days. I’m sure I can handle a mere hotel transition.

  Walking into my lovely hotel room, I feel a bit sad that I’ll have to give it up. The Millgrave certainly pales in comparison - the pictures Stacey sent show a very studious room with enough space to house the double bed and small clothing wardrobe. It’s only for a week, I remind myself.

  At the chirping of my phone, I dive towards it, grabbing it quickly. I hope it’s Alex!

  Subject: Thinking of you

  How was your day? Mine has been filled with thoughts of you, Miss Ryan. Are you at the hotel?

  Alex

  Giddy with excitement, I begin my reply…

  Subject: Thinking of you too

  I just returned. Perfect timing, Mr. Tate. My day was good - you may have wandered into my thoughts occasionally ;)

  I’m free if you would like to stop by.

  Aby x

  Dancing in place, I bite at my smiling lips, anxiously awaiting the chirping signal of his reply.

  Good God, I’m like a teenager.

  Where’s the Glamour magazine? Shouldn’t his posters be plastered all over the wall? - my inner actress snidely points out the tad difference in my crush. The reminder that Alex Tate is no ordinary boy makes me jump up and down all the more, as my phone indicates another message.

  Subject: You read my mind

  I was hoping you would offer. I’m on my way. See you soon, beautiful.

  Alex xx

  Fully into my teen-girl dizzy excitement, I leap on the bed to continue my jumps for joy.

  With one final bound in the air, I flop onto my back, legs and arms spread wide. Closing my eyes over my widespread smile, I envision the sight of Alex in all his glory.

  He’s been thinking about me all day…

  ~

  “Were you born this way?” I ask; my fingers lost in the glorious dark curls scattered across Alex’s incredibly sculpted muscles.

  His leisurely rub of my back as I lay upon his bare chest slows to a halt.

  My eyes drift up to his and I note his eyebrow raised in question. “You know… so freakishly adept at everything you do?” I explain.

  There’s no question he was born with a serious set of amazing genes. The man is sculpted perfection. Every single inch of him. The fact that he’s an incredible lover on top of everything else is simply mind-blowing. Literally - my inner dreamer lingers in my recent orgasm.

  “Are you complementing me as an actor or hinting at a curiosity towards my sexual prowess?”

  “B-both. I guess”. I feel the blush in my cheeks. I lose all filters around this man.

  Alex pulls himself up a little to lean against the pillow, his glorious naked body sliding upwards under my bare breasts, tantalizing my still sensitive nipples.

  “Hmmm. Well, the actor in me says thank you”, he smiles down at me. “And, regarding your curiosity, what would you like to know?”

  I slightly regret saying anything at all to have it take this turn, however, his open-ended question peaks my interest further. But how would I word this? Well, are you just a natural born amazing lover, or has experience led to the incredible skills? …Oh, experience, you say? How many women, exactly, led to said experience? Crazy right? I can’t ask him that.

  Damn, would I really want to know the answer? Okay, now I’m just uncomfortable.

  Avoiding his question, I begin tracing shapes across his amazing eight-pack.

  “You’re wondering if I’ve slept with a lot of women, aren’t you?”

  My head jolts up to look at his face. The man knows exactly what I’m thinking, whether I speak the words or not. I hate that I’m so easy for him to read.

  “I… uh… well… yes. I mean, no. I don’t think a number is… necessary”.

  He laughs. “Would a number bother you?”

  Not a LOW one.

  But maybe it is a low one. Is his question suggesting that he could give me a number because there aren’t too many to count? I seriously doubt that. Although, it’s rather presumptuous of me to assume that he’s slept with a gazillion women just because he’s a famous, gorgeous actor - who happens to be amaze-balls in the sack.

  “I’ll take that as a yes”, he continues at my lack of reply.

  Feeling a little foolish, I roll over onto my back, pulling the bed sheet to my chin. I guess it would be childish to cover my heated, and probably quite pink, face.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound as though I wanted to you know your…” I pause searching for the right word.

  “My count of sexual partners?”

  Oh Jesus, earth open and swallow me whole.

  “Yes, that’s one way of putting it”, I bite at my lip and fiddle with the sheet. “I was just saying… thinking, you are…” Oh screw it, I look towards him bravely. “You’re very well in tune with a woman’s body.” Very, very well in tune. I look back towards my chest. “That’s all I meant to imply”.

  Leaning down, he pulls my chin towards him, placing a gentle kiss on my lips. “It’s okay. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve had my fair share of experience, but I’m certainly not a man-whore”. He smirks.

  “So, by ‘fair share’, you mean like a normal amount of experience?” Shit. I thought I was letting this go.

  “Normal?”

  “You know, an average amount”.

  He sits back slightly, tilting his head in question, his eyebrow doing that sexy shift. “Well, I don’t know. That depends really. What would you consider to be average?”

  Me? Mother of pearl. Now he wants me to give a number?

  I have no idea what would be average, but I sure know I would not be included in the majority category. Oh, what the hell… I opened the can of worms. “Two”.

  Clearly shocked, his eyes bulge slightly, his mouth hanging agape, “Two?”

  “Well, now it’s three”, I smile at him, biting the corner of my mouth.

  “Three?”

  “Jeez, Alex, don’t say it like it’s a dirty word. So what? I’ve only had sex with three guys. That doesn’t make me a nun. And I’m pretty confident that I just rocked your world two seconds ago… my limited experience and all”.

  He’s smiling at me.

  “What? You want a piece of me?” I attempt to rein in my typical defensive outburst with playfulness.

  “Baby, I want all of you”, he rolls over me, pinning me beneath him. “In fact, it seems I’m insatiable for you. Past sexual encounters aside, I can honestly say that no other women has ever inspired me quite as often. I simply can’t get enough of you. And, for the record, you’re so damn sexy when you’re angry”.

  Searching my eyes, he caresses my cheek. “Three is not a dirty number, Aby. It’s perfect, just like you”. His lips take mine in a lingering kiss as my defensive shell crumbles. Pulling away, he looks back into my eyes. “One…”

  I cover his mouth with my hand. “Alex Tate, don’t you dare utter another number”.

  His lips freed from my muzzling fingers, he curls them into a dazzling grin. “I was just going to say, the only one that matters to me right now is you”.

  CHAPT

  ER NINE

  “Yes, thank you…” I reply for the second time to the sales clerk, lost in her captivation of my shopping partner¸ “It would be great if you could put these in a fitting room for me”.

  Ugh, this is painful, although funny.

  “Yes, of course. Let me take those for you”, she reaches for the garments I’ve collected; her eyes still fixated on Alex. “Please take your time. We are at your service for as long as you require”.

  Her retreat towards the fitting rooms is painfully slow, still caught in her zombie-like trance, awkward smile daunting her lips.

  Out of view, I turn to Alex in jest, “Oh, Alexander Tate, may I please have your autograph. Please excuse my drool on the paper”, I drawl in
a British accent, flashing him a teasing smile.

  “Funny girl”, he wraps me in his arms, pulling me against his glorious chest. “You can have anything you want from me”, he whispers in my ear.

  Tingles flutter in my stomach, as they always do at the hands of this man and his words. I can have anything? I just want you… “Wrong place, wrong time big guy”, I manage breathlessly. “And on that note, I still think this is crazy, Alex. A boutique closed to the public just for me? It’s too much”.

  “Didn’t you say you needed to go shopping?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “And, did I not say that I want to spend the day with you?” He smiles down at me, “To which you agreed you wanted as well?”

  “Yes”.

  “Then this is how we do that”, he cups my face in his hands, lazily brushing his thumb across my lip.

  “You really can’t go shopping like a normal person?” I shake my head at the idea.

  “You have a very adorably skewed perception of normal”, he says, chuckling.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Well considering this is the third time you’ve made reference to me being abnormal…”

  “I’ve never said that”, I jump in.

  “Not in so many words, but yeah, you kind of did”.

  He’s smiling, but I’m freaking out.

  “Well… umm”, I grasp for a rebuttal. “Normal people don’t close down stores for their personal shopping enjoyment”. I purse my lips satisfactorily.

  “Touché”, he laughs. “Be that as it may, I am a normal person”, his beautiful smile wanes, “Sadly, I don’t get to enjoy some ordinary daily events as such”.

  As regal as a private shopping excursion appears to me, it’s clearly a poignant reality for Alex. I try to visualize our outing had the store been open to the public - visions of giddy girls, and drooling women - men, even.

  Attempting to lighten the mood, I smile and give him a quick kiss.

  Entwining his fingers in my hair, he halts my retreat, his tongue assailing me with electric currents.

  Mumbling through our kiss, I berate, “Mr. Tate, do not make me regret allowing you to join me. I do have a task at hand here remember? I will however, take you up on your offer a little later”, I smile teasingly at him. “Anything I want?” I purr, endeavoring to squeeze out of his firm, sexy grip.

  “Anything”, he repeats, kissing my neck before releasing me.

  I can’t help but continue to stand before him, momentarily basking in his good-looking glory. Even donned in a simple white V-neck t-shirt, jeans and a dark blue ball cap, the man is breathtaking. The way he fills out a pair of jeans is simply sinful.

  Oh, yes, I do understand the trance he can put a woman under. What is it I’m supposed to be doing? I question myself, lost in a familiar zombie moment. Oh, right, work clothes.

  Returning my attention to the task, I peruse the clothing racks, separating each garment hanger by hanger in search of the ones I like. Though I’ve seen many aptly suited pieces, it’s the price tag adorning most that have me at a disadvantage. I hate that I’m being frugal in the presence of a man who probably hasn’t considered cost in years, but expenditure is an inevitable concern for me. I live in the real world. Regardless of the recent romance novel fairytale I find myself enjoying.

  “So, you still haven’t told me about your meeting with Thomas”, Alex casually begins, following me around the racks.

  Looking up to him briefly, I give him a playful squinty eye, “Need I remind you, you kept my attention locked to one particular interest last night”.

  “Yes, I suppose I did”, he smiles devilishly. “So, did he find you a position with one of his affiliates?”

  “No, actually, he asked me to come work with him”.

  “At Ashely-fines?”

  “Yes”, I turn my head slightly in question at his surprised tone. “He asked me to join his team on a freelance basis”.

  “Well… that’s great. It’s a fine company to work with”, he recovers, a little too quickly, turning away to glance around the store.

  “Alex? Is something wrong?”

  “Not at all”, he smiles at me. “I’d like to pick out something for you to try myself”.

  “Oh… Ok”, I reply as he continues his perusal.

  He flashes me one of his slow motion, panty-soaking crooked grins before turning away and wandering off.

  Maybe they have a lingerie department - my inner dreamer starts taking off her clothes as I watch him walk away.

  ~

  Two pencil skirts, black trousers, three blouses, and a couple of camisoles later, I prepare to redress in the small stall, smiling inwardly at my shopping experience with Alex. I truly can’t recall having had this much fun shopping with anyone other than Stacey. She would die if she knew I had an entire boutique to myself.

  Alex’s insistence that I provide a fashion show of each outfit had been much too tempting, always resulting in his incessant attempts to ravish me, pulling me into his lap. My wise decision to remain in the confines of the stall for the remainder of the fitting was the ultimate form of self-control. My seclusion assisted in downplaying his effect on me. Instead, I playfully tossed the discarded clothing in his direction over the door.

  “Are you almost done with your selections?” he asks.

  “I’m all done”, I smile from behind the closed door.

  “Good, then it’s my turn. Please try this”, he knocks for me to open.

  Clad in my bra and thong, I open the door a crack to find him holding a beautiful red silk dress.

  My attention is quickly pulled towards his intense gaze.

  Despite my attempts to shield myself from his devouring eyes - to avoid a renewed, and probably successful, attack of me - he’s getting a sneak peek in the mirror behind me.

  I grab the dress in earnest, quickly shutting the door. I’m not sure I can sustain myself against the want in his eyes. Hearing his released growl, I smile, holding the dress absentmindedly at my chest.

  “I would like to see you in this one”, he demands.

  “Maybe”. Smiling from ear to ear, I hold the dress up for a closer look. It’s beautiful - a wrap style with a deep V-neck and ruffled edge tied at the waist. This looks expensive. Too rich for my blood. Grabbing the dangling price tag, I gasp. “Alex, this is…” I stop, realizing I don’t want to share my frugal comment. “…beautiful”, I finish instead.

  Hesitating, I unfasten the silk ties, and don the beautiful, incredibly expensive frock. It’s extremely flattering. I look and feel amazing in it. Incredibly amazing.

  But where the hell would I wear it? It’s well above work-appropriate.

  “Alex, it’s stunning”, I call from behind the door, my gaze locked on my reflection. “You have great taste, to say the least”.

  “Come out and let me see for myself”.

  Biting my lip, I ponder the idea. Of course he’ll love it, and then I’ll have to buy it. And I would love to, but what a waste. “Umm… no, I’m just going to get dressed”.

  “Aby, let me see the dress”.

  “No”.

  “Miss Ryan, as adorable as your stubbornness may be, if you say ‘no’ to me once more, I’ll take you right here in the fitting room”.

  “Tsk tsk. Idle threats, Mr. Tate”, I attempt to shield my desire at the image he’s just conjured. My God, I would let him ‘take’ me anywhere. “Seriously, Alex, it’s beautiful, but I just don’t need it. It’s much too dressy for work. Though it’s truly beautiful…” Trailing off, I admire my reflection, turning around to take in the beautiful way it fits my body from every angle.

  “Aby”, I hear him right outside the door. “I should be able to see the item I chose at least”.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve already taken it off”, I lie, shedding it quickly.

  Exiting the fitting room, I find one sexy-as-shit man seated waiting for me, a sensually tortured look on his face. Leaned back on the red
leather chair, his legs slightly spread, hands folded on his stomach, he looks good enough to eat.

  Pouncing, he pushes me backwards into the stall; the door swinging closed behind us. His lips and tongue attack mine as his hands invade me through my sundress, firmly sliding their way down my back before clutching my ass.

  Continuing down my thighs, he lifts the back of my dress, running his fingers along my bare, goose-pimpled flesh.

  “I warned you”, he growls, nipping my earlobe.

  “Ahem. May I assist you with anything?” the sales women questions, an edge of confusion to her voice at the absence of the god-like man from the waiting area.

  “Um… No. Thank you”, I manage, teasingly punching Alex’s chest as he begrudgingly pulls away. “I think I’m all done. Thank you. I’ll be right out”, I reply, hoping to appease her enough that she’ll walk away.

  Returning my attention to my incredibly sexy troublemaker, I reprimand him in a whisper, “Do try to compose yourself, you’re causing a scene”.

  “Correction, sweetheart, I believe it’s you who’s caused a scene”, he growls, placing my hand over his evident erection. “I wanted to see you in that dress”, he reiterates, giving me a final indulgent kiss.

  “I’ll make it up to you”, I reply seductively.

  Pulling back, he flashes his mega-watt smile as we make our way out of the tiny cubicle towards the sales counter.

  Laying my items down, I suddenly feel a slight unease about the anticipated cost of my shopping, and the subsequent payment of it all in front of Mr. Mega Bucks. I’m relieved when he excuses himself to take a call on his cell phone.

  “I think a few fans have gathered outside”, the sales clerk nods towards the window at the front of the store.

  I turn to follow her gaze and take in the swarm of girls gathered outside. There must be at least ten of them, all giddy and waiting for Mr. Alexander Tate no doubt. It’s not surprising that they’ve gathered. Surely news of a boutique being closed temporarily to the public is bound to spread.