Perfect Plans

by C. J. Wells

  This is so awkward. I’m instantly nervous.

  Looking to Alex - my eyes surely screaming my inward trepidation - he smiles warmly in return, finishing his call.

  Sliding his phone into his pocket, he makes his way towards me. “I’ll be right back”, he whispers, kissing my cheek.

  “Ok”, I manage as I watch him walk towards the door. Is he going out there? Is he nuts?

  He just walked out the door towards the awaiting crowd like it’s no big deal; the incessant girly screams - heard more so when the door opened - ringing in my ears. “Alexander, can I have your autograph?”… “Oh my god! It’s really him!” … “I love you Alexander Tate!”

  The simultaneous high-pitched wails for his attention are overwhelming, each young girl competing for his attention first. I watch in wonder as he begins accepting the numerous outthrust papers, pens and markers, one at a time. Though their cries are less audible in the seclusion of the store, I’m consumed with his gentlemanly response to the evident madness.

  He smiles politely at each one, an aura of calmness surrounding him. Posing with each, one at a time, turning to face one camera to another, his arm placed sweetly around their shoulders.

  How does he do it with such natural grace?

  “Do you ever get used to all this attention?” the sales lady questions, pulling my gaze away from the awe-inspiring display.

  Unsure how to reply, I offer a sluggish smile before pulling out my credit card to hand it to her.

  “Oh, no, that won’t be necessary. Mr. Tate has taken care of your bill”.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Ready to go?” he asks, having returned from outside.

  I simply nod my head, my own apprehension about walking out those doors compounding my sudden shock.

  “I will have your purchases delivered as instructed, Mr. Tate”, she smiles.

  I look towards Alex as he thanks the woman, his hand taking its familiar place at my lower back.

  “Alex…”

  “Anything you want, remember”, he flashes me his brilliant smile before kissing my cheek, leading me outside to the immediate squeals of the female frenzy.

  “Has everyone got their photo?” he asks, smiling.

  Their responses are a cluster of shrilling excitement, “Thank you Alexander!” … “I love you!” … “Oh my God, I can’t wait to tweet this!”

  Smiling, he turns us in the direction of our escape, “You’re very welcome ladies. Take care”, he continues, bidding a dashing farewell smile back at his adoring fans.

  I’m unconsciously holding my breath in anticipation of the pursuant following of the squeals behind us, and I can’t help but peer over my shoulder towards them. To my surprise they remain in place, all giddy and smiling; most on their cell phones, undoubtedly sharing their encounter with calls to friends, or well into their Facebook and/or Twitter posts.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, with a gentle squeeze at my waist.

  I return my attention to his sweet concern with a reassuring smile, “I’m great. You didn’t need to do that back there”.

  “Sure I did, they’re my fans”, he smirks.

  “You know that’s not what I’m talking about”.

  “No? Are we talking about my wanting to gift something to beautiful woman?”

  “Yes”, I give him the stink eye with a laugh. “Though I’m very appreciative, it wasn’t necessary… or expected”.

  “I know. That’s why I wanted to it”.

  “Thank you”, I manage with a bashful smile, feeling privileged, special.

  “It was my pleasure”. He smiles.

  “That was pretty amazing to watch you with your fans. You seem so unfazed with them. How do you do it?”

  “It was rather daunting, initially, to say the least, but I’ve learned to take it in stride. I always try to put my best foot forward, however, it’s a bittersweet exchange”, he replies, his eyes searching mine. Looking forward, he continues, “It can be… difficult sometimes”.

  We continue in silence for a few moments, his last comment lingering. I feel a sudden chill, noting that the recent throng of fans I witnessed may have been a minor one comparably. I can imagine he must deal with bigger fan frenzies. Or can I? Of course I can’t.

  The idea of even trying to fathom what he must go through sometimes is mindboggling. I may have seen the likes of it on TMZ once or twice, but to actually imagine going through it? Impossible, I think; my sudden chill replaced with empathy.

  “So, this last stop seemed successful - at least where shopping is concerned. I, on the other hand, remember feeling a little tortured during the fitting”, he stops to take my face in his hands, placing a soft lingering kiss on my lips.

  I lose myself to the charm of his perfect lips, his magic tongue. I’m instantly overtaken by my very alert want in response to this man, combined erotically with the heat of the sun. I could melt into him, or swallow him whole, right here on the side of the street, despite the seeing eyes of its patrons - the sudden reminder of which causes a flash foretelling of another could-be mob. A chilling thought, for sure, but it’s not enough to cool me down. I’m practically on fire, relishing in the warmth of his breath and hot lips on my skin. Not to mention what the feel of his glorious chest under my fingers is doing to me.

  I’m suddenly startled at the passing graze of a patron; I pull away from him, noticing the woman continue on unfazed. “Maybe we should get going”, I smile up at him, trying to catch my breath. “Where to next?”

  “Well,” he wraps his hands around my waist, “I think it well deserving of you to decide”.

  “I could go for a froyo right about now”, I suggest, my need for a cold shower in the middle of the sidewalk being out of the question. Oh… imagine Alex all wet, his white shirt soaked and see-through…

  “A froyo? Ok, please enlighten me”, he pulls away from my tingling neck, interrupting my little fantasy.

  “Oh, sorry, frozen yoghurt. I could use something yummy and cool”, I explain, my vision of him all wet and sexy lingering. “I’m feeling a little hot”.

  “Ah, frozen yoghurt”, he laughs. “I guess I’m not quite down with the ice cream slang. For all I know, you were suggesting something kinky”, he winks, returning one final brush of his lips against my neck. “So, you’re up for a cool treat then?”

  “Yes, I think a kinky treat is a great idea. I mean frozen treat... frozen yoghurt!” Ugh. Well done, and very smooth, I reward myself in silent sarcasm. “Is there any place nearby?” I attempt to appear less wanton.

  A devilish amused grin crosses his face, “Well, there’s a parlor not too far from here. I’m not entirely sure it will fit the kinky bill, but perhaps we can improvise”. Moving his hands down to caress my behind, he pulls me firmly against him.

  I gasp at the sudden closeness; his large package tantalizing me, sending lightning bolts right where I want him the most. He’s clearly onto my heated reverie, and is taking full advantage of it.

  “I think it best we make our way to get that refreshing treat”, I breathlessly remind him. “We wouldn’t want to attract another crowd”.

  “No, I don’t suppose we would”, he releases me with a kiss to my forehead. “Shall we?” he holds out his hand.

  I place my hand in his, continuing our gallant playfulness, “We shall, kind sir”.

  Making our way down the street I can’t help but smile at my indescribable happiness. Even the silent reminder that lingers in the back of my mind that this is all too good to be true can’t erase this smile. It can’t erase this feeling. I’ve walked into one of my own novels. One of the very many erotic fantasies I would lose myself in to escape. I’m now living one in real life. My dream life is merging into my real one. Nothing can take this feeling away.

  At the squeeze of my hand, I turn my smiling gaze towards him.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asks, returning my happy expression.

  “Oh, just how wonderful this
day has been. These past few days, actually”.

  “I see”, his beautiful smile curls to one side. “Any particular reason, or cause, for this wonderfulness?” he continues, stopping to turn to me.

  As if you don’t know.

  Playfully pulling at his shirt, I look up to meet his gaze; it’s more than molten, his baby blues turned sapphire.

  I lose my breath, unable to find words as he cups my jaw, his thumb brushing against my lips.

  Seconds feel like minutes before he takes a deep breath and releases me.

  “Well, let’s go inquire about that kinky treat”, he motions towards something behind me.

  Turning in the direction of his cue, I realize we’re standing in front of ‘FRAE Frozen Yoghurt’. I hadn’t noticed it before we stopped.

  Your mind isn’t exactly on the task, is it? - my inner actress states the undeniable.

  Through the window I can see that though it’s not overly crowded, they certainly aren’t lacking for customers at the moment.

  “Alex, is this wise?” I ask, the earlier excited mob of shrieking girls suddenly ringing in my head. “There are quite a few people inside”.

  “It will be fine”, he reassures me, placing his hand on my back as he opens the door to lead me inside.

  We walk directly towards the counter, now luckily free of any line; all customers occupying the surrounding tables. Seemingly enjoying their frozen treats, they thankfully haven’t noticed anyone out of the ordinary make an entrance and prepare to place an order. So far, the strikingly tall and handsome man that is Alexander Tate has gone unnoticed in his sexy ball cap.

  With a gentle squeeze of my hand, he gives me a brief smile of reassurance, his outwardly relaxed demeanor calming my pent up nerves.

  Feeling more relaxed, I turn my gaze towards the display of delicious frozen varieties on the giant wall-menus.

  “Any specific kinky treat catching your eye?” he whispers in my ear; his sexy playful tone sending tingles down my spine.

  “Hmmm…” I murmur, pondering the many overwhelming choices. “Chocolate. Definitely chocolate”, I decide, recalling his delicious tasting tongue, the memory of our hot chocolate at the hotel bringing a smile to my lips.

  Lifting his hand, he brushes his thumb along my slightly bitten bottom lip, smirking knowingly at my unconscious reaction to the silent memory.

  “I really like the idea of tasting chocolate on that tongue of yours”, he whispers again, before adding in a more husky tone, “Maybe we should place an order to go”; his lips and tongue momentarily tease my earlobe, the sensual display shielded by the visor of his ball cap.

  I freeze at his evocative invitation. My body jolted with a bolt of desire at his suggestive words and touch. I feel the elicited pulsing between my legs - legs that almost give out from beneath me at the entire notion.

  Oh Alexander Tate, you are one walking, talking treat all on your own… and I intend to lap you up…

  “There he is!”

  With a start, we turn at the abrupt intrusion; the culprits of which are two of the frantic fans from earlier outside the boutique.

  All eyes are suddenly upon us. Some recognize Alex immediately; others stare in question, eyeing us before their own realization sets in.

  The excitement quickly makes its way across the room, as the Alexander Tate treasure-hunting girls and their new entourage rush towards us, squealing the usual requests for his autograph and a picture.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and place that order to go”, he squeezes my hand sweetly with a flash of his breath-taking smile.

  I nod in agreement as one of the girls reaches us in frenzied excitement, practically taking me off my feet in her attack of Alex.

  Instantly he reaches out, placing a supportive hand at my waist.

  I smile, attempting to appear unfazed.

  He searches my eyes intently for final reassurance before turning to address the gathering crowd. “Let’s play nicely and work together so that everyone gets their turn”, he begins with a wink to the growing throng, treating them to his megawatt smile.

  ~

  “Wow. That was pretty crazy”, I mutter in bewilderment as the taxi pulls away. My eyes are still adjusting from the endless flashes of phone cameras; their blinding ability heightened by the darkened sky from ensuing rain.

  “Are you ok?” Alex’s voice is laced with concern.

  “I will be once I regain my vision”, I laugh, rubbing my eyes dramatically in attempts to ease his mind.

  I’m successful; his demeanor shifting, amazingly swiftly, to sexy playfulness, “Now there’s an inviting idea, your chocolate tasting tongue and a blindfold”.

  “Hey, that’s my line”, I smile playfully in return.

  “Your line? You’ve thought about blindfolding me, Miss Ryan?”

  “No… the chocolate part”, I begin bashfully, “I was looking forward to…”

  “Tasting it on my tongue?” he interjects, his tone incredibly sexy.

  Wetness pools between my legs; my eyes immediately darting to witness the prying gaze of the driver in the rear-view mirror - though his inquisitive glances have no power in diminishing my sudden hunger for the man beside me. I can taste him already, and it’s driving me wild.

  Alex, however, appears the epitome of composure. Though oozing desire, his eyes portray something more.

  “You handled the crowd very well. Most don’t. The first glimpse of how difficult it can be in the public eye is often very overwhelming”. He searches my eyes. “This is typically the point where most women in my life consider running for the hills”.

  “Well, I’m not like most women”, I unconsciously lick my lips, returning his suddenly molten stare.

  I’ve wanted him all day, my need for him escalating with each subsequent playful exchange. It takes every ounce of will power I have to not attack him right here in the taxi. A sentiment I suspect he shares, if his heated gaze and heightened breaths are any indication.

  We sit, unmoving, staring. Our unspoken mutual desire reflected in our gaze. The sexual tension building for the remainder of the short ride to his flat.

  Exiting the cab, he swiftly pulls a bill from his pocket, handing it to the driver, unconcerned of the denomination and clear over-payment. He reaches my door with haste, opening it to take my hand.

  Absently, I notice the taxi departing as he pulls me tightly against him. His mouth crashes over mine, his tongue filling me with his taste as he grabs my ass, lifting me with a speed of unrestrained lust.

  My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, my arms securing around his neck as the take-out bag dangles from my fingers. I moan into his kiss; entangled in an onslaught of sexual need, barely registering the raindrops slightly soaking our clothing.

  Continuing his oral assault, he carries me up the steps to the entrance, leaning me against the door; bearing my weight with ease. The sudden pressure of his hardened erection pushing into me sends a ripple of desire through my body, his publicly unrestrained fervor a clear indication of what’s in store.

  He holds me securely amid his incessant devouring kisses, pulling the keys from his pocket to unlock the door before carrying me effortlessly inside; kicking it closed behind him. His heated, labored breaths allude only to his desire.

  Turning towards the front room, he sets me down on my feet, releasing me to pull the bag from my hands to toss it to the floor.

  His hands return to my body, sliding upwards along my thighs, my damp sundress bunching in the movement. He grabs it, tugging the hem upwards with a swift jerk; my arms lift in assistance as he peels it off, its hugging cling against my damp skin no match for his eagerness.

  Taking a step back, his sapphire eyes penetrate every inch of my partially naked body, searing my skin with his lustful gaze. His hungry stare devours me. Consumes me.

  I release a breathless moan, my need for him overwhelming.

  My whimper reignites his drive as he quickly lifts me, laying me down
gently in the leather chair, my legs spreading against it curvature.

  Dropping to his knees, he retrieves the bag, placing it on the floor beside him as he flashes a devilish smile.

  I stare in wonder at his gorgeous face, wanting, needing; my breaths quickening as I reach for him.

  “Care to wager a guess at what I have in store for you?” His eyes glow with desire and playfulness as he halts my reaching hands in his grip.

  I shake my head bashfully, biting at my lip in anticipation as I begin conjuring up the many things I’d like to do to him.

  Emitting a sexy laugh, he leans over me suggestively, his hard abdominal muscles pushing against my sex.

  I’m at his mercy. A sensual feast of burning need on display before him, my desire evident in my breathless whimper at his commanding force.

  “No guesses?” he questions playfully, staring into my eyes.

  “Tell me”, I whisper, glued to his startling blue irises masked with latent longing.

  “No ideas?” he continues to tease, removing the pint of frozen yoghurt from the bag. Seductively, he removes the lid with his teeth amid his unwavering sensual gaze.

  I moan, a breathless escape of desire at his erotic display.

  “Alex… please…” I whimper, my pelvis brushing suggestively against him in my attempts to assuage my aching core.

  “I’ll give you what you need, but not before I enjoy my treat”, he smirks, pouring a morsel of the slightly melted chocolate onto my stomach.

  I yelp at its coldness on my overheated flesh, its lazy trickle towards my navel perking my skin in its exhilarating trail.

  He intoxicates me with a seductive smile before lowering his head slowly to lick the melting yoghurt, my stomach shaking and flexing under his devouring lips. He laps every last morsel with precision; reducing me to a shell of absolute need and yearning; my pussy convulsing in its emptiness.

  Gliding his lips along my stomach, he grasps the side of my thong harshly, tearing them from my trembling body.

  “Alex!” I scream in surprise, more turned on then I’ve ever been.