by C. J. Wells
Humph, Octa-goddess really can’t keep her hands off anyone.
At the arrival of a waiter, his tray full of Champaign glasses, I help myself to a much-needed drink along with the others.
Could this be any more ridiculously uncomfortable? For me, at least. I actually have no idea if anyone else in our drama cast grouping feels anything other than the painted smiles on their faces suggest.
“Alex…”
We all turn to face the beckoning man that’s approached.
My initial reaction to the savior’s interruption is relief, thankful that this man is going to take us away from our weird huddle. Shocked dread quickly takes over as he lures Alex away in conversation about so-and-so - an inaudible list of people apparently waiting to talk to him.
Turning his head back towards me, Alex offers an apologetic shrug as he mouths, “Sorry”.
My dreaded gaze follows him as he’s pulled away; leaving me cringing at the predicament I’m left facing.
Just great.
I’m left here with Julia-definitely-sucks-Cox, and Horny Hands Helena.
Good times, I think to myself, turning back towards ‘Drizella’ and ‘Anastasisa’. Of course, in my fairytale, they’re stunningly gorgeous and have both fucked my prince.
On second thought, maybe my guardian angel is a crackhead.
“You look beautiful this evening, Abigail”, Helena purrs through her never fading smile, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.
Through the corner of my eye, I think I see Julia roll her eyes.
“Thank you, Helena, you look rather amazing yourself”, I manage, keeping the imaginary poison darts I’m shooting at her through my eyes at bay.
Aside from my venomous dislike of her - all at the hands of her ‘just sex’ with my boyfriend of course - I can’t help but wonder what this extremely beautiful woman is all about. So far she’s touched me almost as much as I’ve seen her touch Alex. Clearly she’s just an extremely touchy type, as he said.
And she’s touched every inch of him as well - my inner actress reminds me, causing a reload of another round of my imaginary missiles.
“So, are you settling in here in London, Abigail?” Helena’s silky voice is like butter on your hands - incredibly annoying to wash off. “Thomas tells me you just relocated here from Canada. Have you found a nice flat?”
“I have, however I don’t move in until Saturday”, I reply, instantly saddened at the thought of leaving Alex’s. It’s been amazing staying with him. AMAZING… I’m flooded with images of our incessant lovemaking and domestic-likened cuddling.
“You’re still staying in a hotel then?” she interrupts my inner love story movie trailer. “Oh, Abigail, that must be dreadful”.
“No, actually”. I feel suddenly brazen. “I’m staying with Alex”. Take that bitches! I applaud myself internally.
Julia almost chokes on her Champaign, spitting it out in a gust of shocked surprise before falling into a choking cough.
Sucks, doesn’t it, Cox. I hold back the smile under my smug lips.
Helena, as though immune to Julia’s coughing fit, seems unfazed. “Ooooh, delicious. Aren’t you a lucky girl”, she winks, taking a sip of her Champaign, eying me in her delight.
I can’t read this woman. She’s akin to a female version of Ben. His sly smiles flash through my mind and I shiver a little. Maybe those two should hook up.
Humph, maybe they already have. A second shiver runs down my spine.
I startle slightly as Alex comes up behind me, placing his arm around my waist.
“Excuse us ladies, I think I’ll continue making the rounds with my beautiful date. Ten more minutes of flashing my dazzling smile enough, Julia?”
“Alex, don’t you dare cop out of this! People are waiting to see you…” Julia lectures; though he’s already turned us around.
He shoots her a devilish grin over his shoulder.
Turning back myself, I can’t help but feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I quite enjoy how he pushes the bossy bitch’s buttons.
“How excruciatingly painful was that?” Alex questions as we walk, nodding his head towards the wicked stepsisters behind us. “I’m sorry for leaving you with the barracudas”.
“It wasn’t bad at all”. My reply is smug.
I’m rather pleased with having kept my wits about me during our twisted ‘grouping’.
Oh that’s just gross. The sudden idea of our little ‘fucked by Alexander Tate threesome’ makes me throw up in my mouth a little.
Donning a nervous smile, I span the room around us - Good God, I hope it’s just the three of us, at least.
~
“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” Alex smiles as we make our way across the car park.
“No, not at all. The pretentious crowd wasn’t nearly as awful as you made them out to be. I actually enjoyed myself”. I smile back. Though the lovely experience with the fuck-me twins wasn’t the most fun. “We did only stay an hour, though. I’m not sure Miss Cox, will be happy with our sneaking away”, I warn him, lacing her name with my bitchy venom.
“Julia can suck my dick”, he retorts matter-of-factly.
I almost choke, stopping dead in my tracks.
Still holding his hand, he’s pulled to a halt and I witness the realization of his inappropriate phrasing kick in as he slowly turns to face me.
“Bad choice of words?” he questions cautiously with an apologetic smile.
“Ya’ think?” I glare at him.
Wincing, he walks towards me. “I’m sorry, baby”. He looks down into my eyes, a sudden mischievous light crossing his own. “Slip of the tongue”, he offers a sexy-as-fucking-shit grin - teasing tongue appearance and all.
Jesus. This man can turn me into a red-hot whore with one look.
Releasing his hand, I begin unfastening the buttons of his dress shirt under his open suit jacket, leaving his hanging tie in place. Working my way down to the top of his trousers, I teasingly trail my lingering fingers back up the slight open access of his bare skin.
“What are you doing, Miss Ryan”. His voice is husky.
“Well”, I begin in a teasing whisper, “I was thinking…”
“Oh, were you now”. He flashes a smoldering grin.
“You mentioned wanting to get me out of this dress”, I look up into his lustful eyes.
“Yes, I did. Several times, I might add. Right now, it seems you’re the one attempting to undress me… right here in the parking lot”.
“We’re the only ones here”, I point out, playfully biting my lip as I scan the vacant car park.
“Careful, you wouldn’t want me to take you right here, would you?”
I say nothing, offering him a sexy, wanting grin.
His eyebrow cocks above his smoldering gaze.
Grabbing my hand at his chest, he turns to continue walking, pulling me along.
“Where are we going?” I question breathlessly, pouting at his halt of my touch.
“You’ll see”.
Reaching his car, he opens the driver’s door, waiting, as if for me to step inside.
I look up at him in confusion.
“In you get”.
“Alex, I can’t drive your car, it’s on the wrong side”.
His head tilts in question, his eyebrow tweaked as ever above his mischievous grin.
“What I mean is, it’s on the right side. I can’t drive on the right side. Well, on the right side of the road, yes, but not on the left side”.
He’s smiling at my rambling.
“You know what I mean”. I playfully punch him. “Besides, I can’t drive this car. It costs more than my first house!”
“You’ll be fine”.
Releasing a sigh, I take my seat at the wheel before he closes the door to make his way around; giving me a brief rundown of ‘what is where’ once inside.
This car is all bells and whistles. It’s such a boy’s toy, I think to myself, taking it all in.
“You ca
n start her in automatic, if you like”. He motions towards the gearshift.
“I can drive a stick, thank you”, I reply matter-of-factly, my cautious demeanor at the idea of driving his disturbingly expensive car giving way to exhilaration.
“I bet you can”. His grin makes me want to pounce.
What could be better than sitting at the wheel of an Austin Martin DBS? Having Alexander sexy-fucking Tate in the passenger seat, that’s what.
With the purr of her engine setting me alight with excitement, I smile, biting my bottom lip as I put her into gear with ease and make a gentle start forward.
“This car is amazing”, I smile at him, feeling rather sexy - sexy from both the power of driving this ostentatious car and his lustful gaze.
Clearly it’s the silky handling of his shaft… oops, I mean stick… that impresses him - my inner actress heightens my high all the more.
“Gentle, baby”, he whispers as I take the first corner with speed.
Gearing down, I prepare to take the down ramp towards the ‘Exit’ signage.
“Go up”. He points towards his desired direction.
Assuming he’s pleased with my handling of his boy-toy, I head up the ramp to the next floor of the car park. I continue around and up a second and third time, passing two more levels at his request. Lost in my thrilled reverie, I silently handle his incredibly sexy car around the turns, shifting gears fluidly.
“Pull in over there”. He motions towards a spot in the corner of the vacant level.
Shutting down the engine, my eyes trace the black leather steering wheel, absently running my fingers along its curves.
That was fun, I smile at the thought, biting my bottom lip.
“This is one sexy car, Mr. Tate”.
Turning to look at him, I find his eyes molten, oozing desire.
“Do you have any idea how incredibly sexy you are?” He leans in, grabbing the back of my neck with carnal force, pulling me into a sensual kiss.
Instant tingles run down my already heated core; the sensual euphoria created at the wheel of the Austin Martin.
Biting my bottom lip gently, he releases a moan. “Take off your panties”, he orders in a husky whisper before releasing me slowly; his eyes devouring my plumped lips from his heated kiss.
Unable to look away from his gaze, I reach under my silk dress. Leaning back into the leather seat to maneuver my thong down my thighs, I slip them down my legs, carefully over my ankle-strap heels.
Sliding his hands into my long hair with wanton force, he invades my mouth with his tongue.
I return his kiss with equal fervor, wrapping my arms around him, pulling at the tousled curls at the nape of his neck.
“Come here”, he orders through our impassioned devouring, pulling me towards him.
Impeded at the center panel, I brace myself against the seat, hurdling the gearshift one leg at a time as I move into position on his lap. The feel of him behind me is intoxicating, his erection tantalizing my backside.
Sliding my hair over my shoulder, he begins an erotic trail of kisses along the back of my neck.
My head falls forward in the pleasure of his lips.
I glide my hands up his outer thighs, reaching behind me for his arousal; his large cock shielded to my wanting touch beneath his trousers.
Responding to my obstructed handling, he unfastens his button and zipper amid the frenzied brushes of his lips and tongue.
I tug on his boxers, frantic in my need for him, releasing his erection to my fingers. Unable to take his girth in my grip, I massage his length, palming the dewy tip.
He groans, reaching around me, encircling and caressing my breasts through my dress; palming my perked nipples teasingly.
The sensation is tantalizing, emitting my moan; eager to have his hands on my bare flesh.
His fingers create an electric trail as they work their way under my dress, gliding his palms up my inner thighs, my dress bunching as he nears my pulsing wetness.
The feel of his touch on my clit is almost too much to take. Whimpering, I lean back into him; renewing his lips access to the side of my neck. I move in rhythm with his sensual torture of my sensitive clitoris. My need for him to fill me is unbearable.
Using his free hand, he inserts two fingers inside my throbbing pussy.
I bow against the stimulation, feeling my impending orgasm; the wanting release from his hours of teasing building to an eruption.
“Come for me, baby”, he whispers.
I lose all senses, moaning as I convulse around his thrusting digits.
Grabbing my thighs, he wrenches me up with sensual force, pulling my dress from his obstructed access to my bare bottom.
I brace myself on his thighs, lifting in assistance as he jerks his ready cock, angling it towards me. Shooting a fueled look at him over my shoulder, I descend, lowering onto him, his dewy erection sliding inside with ease.
The feel of his fullness is overpowering. My body arches around him, my head falling back in ecstasy.
I grasp his thighs in support of my rising and falling movement; his hands braced at my sides assisting my momentum. My wet pussy slides down and up his shaft in a slow rhythmic motion.
He feels incredible beneath me, inside me, behind me. I’m lost in our euphoric lovemaking.
“Aby”, he moans. “You feel so fucking good”.
His words race through my heightened desire, hastening my rise and fall as his lifting support quickens along with me.
“Alex!” I scream, feeling the renewed build in my core.
His breathing increases as he begins lifting his pelvis beneath me, matching and surpassing my increased pace; releasing a repeated grunt with every fill of me.
“Fuck, what you fucking do to me”, he manages in his sexy breathlessness, continuing to pump under my meeting pushes.
Exploding around him, my body gives way to the limberness my orgasm evokes.
He pulls me down and up in quick repeated thrusts before I feel the release from his pulsing cock inside me.
Wrapped in his arms, we sit in silence, our breathing labored.
“Did I mention, I really, really like your car?”
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
“Wow, smells great”, I note the delicious aroma of bacon and eggs as I make my way into the kitchen.
I find Alex flipping pancakes at the stove, clad only in his loose fitted jeans. The sight of his bare chest, and sexy as shit happy trail, still amazes me. Statues were carved in such a likeness.
“Hi, beautiful”, he turns, flashing me his brilliant smile. “Hungry?”
“Yes, actually. Wow, your culinary skills are impressive, it looks as good as it smells”, I peek over his shoulder, sneaking a touch of his glorious skin with a swipe of my hand up his back.
“I owe it all to my Mum, she taught me everything I know. And one thing I know is how to make a mean breakfast. It’s ready, take a seat”.
How sweet is that? I lose myself in the image of a young Alex watching his Mom in the kitchen.
“Thank you”, I smile up into his delicious face as he sets the plate before me.
“It’s my pleasure. Did you sleep well?” He sits down beside me.
“I slept great actually”. I turn to him between forkfuls; moaning in appreciation, the fluffy pancakes practically melting in my mouth. “This is really good”.
His shy smile melts my heart equally effectively; his humbleness is so endearing.
“I’m glad you slept well. You passed out pretty early last night. You must have needed it”.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I’m not entirely sure how I managed to make it through the workday either; there may have been some sleepwalking involved. I wonder if it had anything to do with my body’s need for recovery after Wednesday evening”. I mischievously squint my eyes.
“Maybe I shouldn’t keep you out so late on a school night”. He flashes a sinful grin.
“You know very well it had noth
ing to do with the Publicity Event. We only stayed an hour”. I purse my lips, a suggestive glimmer in my eyes.
His lips pull into a twisted smirk. “This is why I keep feeding you, to make up for my uncontrollable need to tire you out”. He takes a teasingly aggressive forkful.
“Well TGIF. No school tomorrow”. I smirk in return. “What devilish ideas do you have in store for me this evening?”
“Are you up for a private concert?”
“Ooooh… What do you have in mind?” I’m flirting around the idea, biting my lip to avoid actually licking them like a tease.
“Have you heard of Imagine Dragons?”
I drop my fork unceremoniously to the plate, the metal clinking on the porcelain. “We’re going to a private concert for Imagine Dragons?” My open-mouthed jaw exaggerates my shocked surprise.
“I take it you’re a fan”, he laughs.
“That’s an understatement. I love Imagine Dragons”.
“Great, than that’s settled. I’m going to grab a shirt while you finish eating. I’ll take you to the office when you’re ready, take your time, sweetheart”, he whispers, leaning down to kiss the top of my head.
Holy crow. How am I going to get through a day at the office?
I’m as excited as a hyperactive kid on sugar-coated crack!
Imagine Dragons! I do a happy dance in my seat.
Stacey’s going to shit!
~
“It’s so nice to meet you Mo”, I shake his hand as we stand just inside the club. The resemblance between my landlord and her brother is uncanny; he and Amira could pass for twins.
I feel a sense of warmth from Alex’s friend at the large smile he returns. It’s such a contrast to Ben-the-smirk-king.
Turning, I take in The Embassy. It’s as unique as The Wellington Club, offering its own eclectic charm with its splash of retro décor and slight modern edginess. The patriotic Union Jack flag and street art dawning several walls highlight a poetic allure.
The small venue is filled to capacity; there must be hundreds of people in attendance, all awaiting a private showing of Imagine Dragons.
“How are you fairing in your flat?” Mo retrieves my attention.