by C. J. Wells
He releases a slight growl as he nuzzles my neck. “Are we back to talking about this again?”
I certainly don’t want to continue a discussion about the octopus and her previous entitlement to no-appointment-required sex with my dream man, however I’m curious about the beautiful woman and her touchy tentacles. “No. I’m just wondering. Just trying to get a little insight on the woman; I do have to work with her every day”.
“Yes, a fact that has not escaped me, I promise you”. He pulls away from his gentle kisses on my neck, shaking his head slightly. “The entire situation makes me question the notion of six-degrees of separation. I think that cliché could be rather understated”.
I may have to see the woman everyday - while keeping images of her all over Alex out of my subconscious… ugh, the thought makes me shiver - however, Alex is clearly haunted by the idea as well.
He’s right. What a small, and in this case, freakishly torturing world. I guess when you’re lucky enough to fall into a dream world right out of a romance novel you have to take the plot twists along with it.
And welcome shiver number two… an image of octa-goddess twisted around Alexander Tate.
Shake it off, Aby. This is something I’m going to have to get used to.
“Well, it won’t be that bad. I‘ll just avoid her as much as I can. It’s not like she and I have to become friends, or see each other outside of the work environment”. I run my fingers through his inviting curls. “You haven’t answered my question though… is she really that way with everyone?”
“I’m afraid so”. He looks away from my gaze momentarily.
Uh oh. There’s that look.
A familiar tightness in my chest causes a silent freeze of air in my lungs as I witness his beautiful face lace with tension.
At the halt of my fingers through his hair, he turns towards me.
“What?” My looming dread fills my one-worded question.
“Do you think you could get used to seeing her outside the office once in a while?” He bites the side of his mouth.
I shake my head in slight confusion.
Are you up for a threesome? - my inner actress smirks sarcastically.
That is so not funny. I cringe as I swallow back the hint of vomit that just laced the back of my throat. “Why do you ask?” My question is a little too Mary Poppins-like as I attempt to mask the nasty thought.
“You remember we have the publicity event Wednesday night?”
He takes a noticeable breath as I bite down on my own lip.
“Helena will be there”, he winces.
Oh… how lovely. How freaking lovely. Date night with touchy-tentacles.
I paste a giant fake smile on my face to hide my absolute shit-assed disappointment. All for the sake of this glorious man and his pained baby blues piercing through me. Though I can imagine my own eyes screaming my true thoughts silently… please god of holy shit irony-laced dream world, may there PLEASE be no more beautiful women cross my path that have fucked this man.
“Okay… It’ll be fine. I can handle that”, I reassure him as I reassure myself, and not very well.
Enveloped in a moment of painful silence, Alex makes the first move. “Hungry?”
I purse my lips uncomfortably. “Nope”.
He mirrors my expression, possibly unconsciously. “A drink?”
“Yup”. No shit. I could’ve used one about thirty minutes ago.
Leaping up from the bed, he looks back at me briefly as he makes his way out the door.
Something about today makes me want to be hung-over tomorrow.
Make mine a double.
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
“That is one sexy dress, Miss Ryan”, Alex whispers behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “It will be even more amazing on you”.
He places a sensual kiss on my tattoo; the exhilarating feel of his lips on my bare back eliciting tingles of goose bumps.
Oh, I know it looks amazing on me, I take in the beautiful red silk dress hung over the wardrobe door, remembering its perfect fit at the boutique.
“It’s beautiful, Alex. I still can’t believe you bought it for me”.
Turning me, he lifts my chin to his gaze. “Despite your refusal to allow me to see it on you, I knew it was perfect. Just like you”.
“It was an incredibly sweet gesture, thank you”. I smile shyly. “But the beautiful shoes, and jewelry to match… you certainly do things full throttle don’t you. You know how to sweep a woman off her feet”.
“I aim to please”. He takes me in a heated kiss.
“Alex Tate, if you continue to harass me like this, I’ll never finish getting ready”, I teasingly chastise him, wrapping my arms around his neck, dangling my hands over his sinfully gorgeous bare shoulders.
“Who says we have to arrive on time”. His whisper is husky as he pulls me tight against him; the sudden thrust of his arousal clearly evident through his grey boxers.
Grabbing my ass, he pulls at my thong, teasing me with a sexual lure of his tongue along my neck. Pausing, he moves down my shoulder to bite my bra strap, tugging it through clenched teeth.
“We shouldn’t be late”, I remind him weakly in my heated reverie. “Julia will not be pleased.” I smirk at my clever attempt to throw the bossy blonde into my diversion tactic.
“Fuck Julia”, he snaps in a sexy growl, wrenching me more firmly against him with his grasp of the bared cheeks of my ass.
I release a surrendering moan, grabbing for the curls at the back of his neck, pulling his mouth back to mine. Giving in to this man is undeniable. I couldn’t fight the desire he evokes in me if I tried.
At the chiming of the doorbell, he growls through our lavished kiss; releasing a pained groan as I begrudgingly pull away.
“You really should get that”, I attempt through the returned attack of his lips.
Releasing another growl at the repeated chime, he slowly relents, whispering at my mouth, “Oh what you do to me, Aby Ryan”.
I can’t resist giggling at his pouted grumbling as he snatches his trousers from the bed, begrudgingly pulling them on. Zipping the fly, he fumbles with the button, walking towards me to place a final quick kiss on my lips; shaking his head in defiance on his way out of the room.
I watch him walk towards the stairs, the gloriously defined muscles in his back glistening in the light of the hallway.
How did I get so lucky? I smile to myself, turning to look at my hanging dress once more.
My beautiful dress, picked out by my perfect prince. Filled with fairytale elation, I remove it from the hanger.
Like Cinderella herself, it seems I have my own fairy godmother whipping up this amazing night. A real-world guardian angel set to treat my wonderful prince and I to a magical evening out.
Lucky indeed.
~
Nearing the stairs, I hear Alex and his guest amid conversation.
Noting the sound of a man’s voice, I’m suddenly relieved; the image of Alex donned only in his black trousers flashing through my mind.
“Hi”, I announce my arrival, walking towards them from the staircase.
Alex turns to face me, revealing the guest that had been blocked from my view. I instantly recognize the man from the Wellington Club.
“You look beautiful”. Alex smiles, heated desire lingering in his gaze. Brushing it off with a teasingly tortured shake of his head, he clears his throat. “I’d like you to meet my best mate, the ever dashing Mr. Benedict Arnold”. His tone is sarcastically humorous as he winks at his friend.
“You can call me Ben”, the tall and equally buff man retorts. “I’m not nearly as gallant as I make out to be”.
Walking towards me, he playfully hits Alex on his bare abdomen before offering me his hand. “And, yes, you’re quite a beauty, Miss Ryan”, he lifts my hand to his lips for a kiss.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ben”. Cautiously, I pull my hand away. He’s quite the charmer.
&n
bsp; “Nice try, dick”, Alex punches Ben’s arm teasingly.
Smiling at their camaraderie, I feel a sudden nervous tinge at my open dress, unzipped down my back.
“Um, Alex, would you mind”, I shyly motion towards the back of my dress.
“Oh, allow me”, Ben offers with a sly grin.
Instant shivers of unease run down my spine as he motions to attend to me, Alex luckily halting him mid-stride.
“Whoa, this one’s off limits, mate”. His order is firm behind his jovial smile as he lightheartedly shoves Ben aside.
I feign a nervous smile, my eyes tracing Alex’s movement towards me, thankful as he reaches my open dress.
Ben turns away with a laugh, retreating towards the kitchen; his departure releasing my relieved sigh.
Jovial jesting or not, his mischievous suggestive behavior jolted a somewhat distasteful pang in me. It could have been the way he looked at me when he kissed my hand. Or, very possibly my vulnerability at having my dress hanging open in the presence of a man I just met. Either way, Alex’s comment of ‘this one’s off limits’ merely added a sour flavor.
What did he mean by that?
“I knew it would look even more amazing on you”, Alex whispers, effectively erasing my uneasy thoughts.
Moving my hair over my shoulder, he runs his fingers down my bared back to the zipper, his lips teasing my skin as he slowly pulls it up.
Turning to face him, I glide my palms up his chiseled abdomen and chest.
“Be good, Mr. Tate, you have company”.
He squints his eyes, biting at the air as I pull my hands away.
Dress fully secured in place, I feel a renewed sense of confidence as he takes my hand to join Ben in the kitchen.
“So”, Ben pauses to take a sip of the beer he’s welcomed himself to, “You two are off to the ball, then? I didn’t get an invite. I’m highly insulted”.
“You’re banned, my man. No more posh parties for you and your devilish behavior”, Alex winks at him, grabbing a beer from the fridge. “Would you like a drink before we go, Aby?”
“No, thank you”, I murmur, eying the stool at the island. Envisioning the unwanted wrinkles in my new silk dress, I decide to stand instead, my beautiful dress reminding me of my heightened nerves about our outing. Maybe I should have a drink. Then again, adding ‘tipsy’ to my list of issues won’t help anything.
Watching Alex’s comradeship with his best friend is a slight distraction. It makes me think of Stacey. It’s nice to know that he has such a strong friendship with Ben. I imagine it can’t be easy to make new friends being the famous actor he is now.
“What’s this one for, anyway?” Ben questions, taking another drink, “That upcoming production you’ve been signed up for?”
“Yeah, all the PR pretentious crowd will be there. The usual wining and dining shit”, Alex replies, taking a sip of his Corona, wrapping his arm around my waist.
“You should enjoy that, Aby”, Ben adds on a laugh.
I smile back, not quite sure what he meant by it. I find him hard to read.
“I will enjoy having her with me”. Alex smiles down at me, giving my waist a gentle squeeze.
Taking a final gulp, Ben places the empty bottle on the counter. “Well, lady and shithead, I’ll leave you to it”. He makes his way towards the kitchen door, stopping before us, “I see why you’ve been so busy lately, mate”, he punches Alex’s arm. “Nice to have met you, Abigail”.
“Nice to meet you too, Ben. And, please, call me Aby”.
He says nothing in reply, offering another one of his sly grins.
Can’t the guy just smile?
‘I’ll catch you later”. Alex removes his arm from around me to return the playful punch.
Laughing, Ben continues towards the door. “You better call me soon, shithead. Have fun at the ‘do’. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do”, he calls back over his shoulder.
“That doesn’t leave much”. Alex laughs.
Without turning, Ben flips him the bird before moving out of sight, the sound of the closing door signaling his departure.
Setting down his unfinished beer, Alex shifts my hair over my shoulder; his teasing tongue working down my neck.
“Let’s get back to being late, shall we”, he purrs in a delicious tone, unzipping my dress.
~
Entering the empty grand vestibule as we exit the elevator, I’m filled with my heightened nerves at our somewhat tardy arrival.
“It appears we’re late anyway, Mr. Tate”, I reprimand him playfully.
His unyielding attempts to undress me before we left had been extremely tempting, though unsuccessful.
“Not late enough”, he growls, leaning to attack my neck with his lips.
“Stop it!” I giggle into him.
Moaning, he straightens to look at me, holding my hands out at my sides, “You look incredible”.
I look back at him shyly, imagining all of the beautiful women inside the main reception beyond the double doors. I have no idea what to expect, but perfection is definitely on the list.
Shaking his head in bewilderment, he spins me around to face the large floor to ceiling mirrored wall.
“You, sweetheart, are an incredibly beautiful woman”, he smiles behind me at our reflection, sliding my hair over my shoulder to kiss my neck.
Taking in our reflection, I have to admit I do look great in this dress.
A great dress, can do wonders, I think to myself, eyeing the beautiful frock he picked out for me. Its red silk hugs my body, with soft ruffled edges down the side; creating an illusion of curves I usually admire when looking at Stacey. The fitted high waistline, and length hitting just above my knees, make my legs appear longer then they are atop my sexy muted-gold ankle strap heels.
The man has great taste in shoes as well.
Even my breasts appear fuller in the deep ruffled v-neckline. Alex seems to agree, his finger tracing down around them; heated desire evident in his reflected gaze.
On a released moan, he takes my hand, turning us in the direction of the double doors. “Let’s get this over with, I’m not sure how long I can wait before I actually do get you out of that sexy dress”.
I smile at his pained pout, deciding not to share my equal excitement at his plan to devour me later. My admission may prevent our attending the party at all.
Opening the doors, he leads me inside.
I gasp at the large reception, filled from wall to wall with guests. It’s overwhelming. I attempt to take in the mass of beautifully dressed partygoers, all lost in conversation as they hold glasses of Champaign; my trembling nerves exasperated as the first attendee takes notice of our entrance and approaches.
“Mr. Alexander Tate”. The astute looking man reaches us, his hand outstretched.
They shake hands, smiling; the man cupping Alex’s shoulder in jovial greeting.
“I won’t keep you, hot lips is in heat at your absence thus far”, he winks before turning away slightly. “Watch out, here she comes now”.
Taking in my presence, he offers me a quick smile before patting Alex on the shoulder and continuing on through the crowd.
Alex releases an annoyed sigh before noting my questioning gaze.
“Sorry, that was Henry Williams. He works with Julia”.
“Hot lips?” I urge him to elaborate on Mr. Williams’ comment.
Was he referring to Julia? God, I dislike that bitch, I realize in my nagging good-girl notion that I don’t even know her to judge her as I do.
“Julia is well known for being somewhat… bitchy”. Alex laughs.
“As opposed to being well known for her attractive lips?” I muse sarcastically.
Shrugging his shoulders, he leads me forward, offering neither denial nor agreement.
I think I would prefer that he outright negated it.
Actually, I know I would have preferred it, I correct myself inwardly, looking ahead as we meet the blonde wench herself.
“Better late than never”, he smiles sarcastically. “Julia, I would like to introduce you to Abigail Ryan; Aby, this is Julia Cox”.
Ha! Julia Cox. I bet the bitch’s nickname in high school was Julia-sucks-Cox. I almost laugh out loud.
Get a grip, Aby - I reign in my own bitchy, adolescent thoughts.
“Pleasure to meet you, Abigail”, Julia slurs, barely hiding an almost contempt disgust. Though who knows, my biased - and somewhat unwarranted - hate for this woman could be tainting my take on her.
“Likewise”, I manage as sweetly as I can muster, not offering to mention my more familiar and friendly ‘Aby’ namesake.
Inwardly shaking my head that this night can’t possibly become any more uncomfortable, I spy my incredibly gorgeous co-worker approaching us. Great.
Helena Adelaide and Julia-sucks-Cox... Two of Alex’s ex’s at once. Oh what fun.
This is definitely as surreal as a storyline right out of one of my damn novels.
I think my guardian angel drinks.
“Alex”. His name rolls off Helena’s tongue like silk as she makes her way towards him, her touchy fingers making an expedition across his chest.
Back off, Whore-a the Explorer, I want to growl at her.
“Helena”, Alex greets the octopus before they kiss both cheeks Parisian style.
I involuntarily squeeze his hand at my side, his gaze darting towards me in my hidden jealous hissy fit.
Damn reflexes.
“You’ve met Helena?” He questions, assumingly.
“Not formally”, Helena interjects with her silky grin; her smile mirroring the one she offered when I caught her ogling eye in the boardroom.
Taking my free hand, she grazes her fingers up my arm as she pulls me in for the same French greeting she offered Alex. “It’s a pleasure…” she slithers with an extra warm smile before turning to grin at Julia.
I take notice of her tentacle-like arm at the small of Julia’s back.