by C. J. Wells
A light breeze feels colder than it should against my neck as Alex pulls his warm lips away to look at me. “Ben?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry; I know he’s your very good friend. He just… creeps me out”.
Alex looks amused.
“It’s that smirk of his. It kinda rubs me the wrong way”.
“Aby, trust me, Ben is harmless. His bark is much bigger than his bite”.
Isn’t that a devilishly frightening analogy? Even my inner actress shivers at that one. The thought of Ben’s request for a ‘taste’ adds new meaning to the bitingly cold tremors he causes in me.
Alex pulls me closer. “I, on the other hand, you should definitely watch out for”. His eyes flicker mischievously. “I’ll devour you any chance I get”.
My breath hitches as my body reacts to what this man does to me with his every word, every glance.
Grabbing the back of his tousled hair, I pull his mouth to mine.
Oh Alexander Tate, I’m yours for the taking.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
“Good morning, sunshine”, Stacey beams through the phone as soon as I pick up.
“Don’t you mean good night? Where are you and why are you so perky?”
“Just got home on the red-eye from Vancouver; one more Red Bull and I could have flown the plane myself”.
“Why in the world would you drink that on the flight?”
“I didn’t. It was the three Vodka Red Bulls at the after-party. Once I got back to my room and realized I wasn’t having a heart attack, I decided to catch an earlier flight home. Anyhoo… it’s the big day, chickabiddy! Should I be saying congratulations or I’m sorry?”
“I know”, I laugh. “I’m so torn this morning. I’m beyond excited to move into my own place, but… man, this last week playing house with Alex has been…”
“Like playing one of the props in Magic Mike?”
“You’re hilarious. I was going to say it’s been an absolute dream”.
“You’re such a romantic, my little cherub. You bring out the poet in me... what’s a word that rhymes with fuckable?”
“Stop it”. I keel over laughing. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”
“I don’t know, babe, I’m drunk and high as a kite on sugar-coated caffeine”.
“Seriously though, Stace, everything’s happened so quickly with Alex. I feel like I’ve been swept away in a whirlwind of fantasy. Everything I’ve ever wanted – everything I’ve been dreaming of for years – is finally within my grasp”.
“I’m sorry, I must have the wrong number. It seems I’ve reached the gag-me-with-a-spoon hotline. Jesus, Aby, you’re killing me here. Where’s your hunka-hunka burning love anyway? That text about your sexy-ass quickie at the concert gave me an orgasm in the middle of my meeting. I swear the guy sitting next to me thought I had turrets”.
“You need therapy. And I can’t help it, Alex is amazing. He’s everything I could have hoped for. I’m walking on a cloud over here”.
Literally. After that erotic encounter, I’m still floating on my cloud of euphoria. My head is reeling. Periodically, I pinch myself to ensure that this ultimate dream is a reality. It simply couldn’t get any better. Any more dream-like. Unless I miraculously learn to fly, this is as fantastical as it gets.
“I’m happy for you, crumpet. You’re on cloud nine. And, oh look… it’s penis shaped”.
My stomach is actually hurting from laughing so much. God, I miss my friend.
“You deserve this, Abs. Enjoy it. And speaking of Sexy Tatters, you didn’t say where he is”.
“He went to put my bags in the car. I should finish up in here… just gathering my toiletries. Besides, I think you need to get some zees – sleep it off, Spicy. I’ll speak to you in a few days?”
“Sounds good, babe. Love you”.
“I love you too”.
~
With each passing block, there’s a slight twinge in my heart that I won’t get to spend each and every day with Alex anymore. But my excitement at having a place to call my own brings an incessant smile to my face.
It’s been over nine months since I left my former home with Liam, living out of a suitcase, moving from one loving open door to the next. And though this last temporary residence was out of this world, preparing to open my own door already feels like a weight lifted off my shoulders.
At least I won’t be too far away from Alex, I note happily as we drive through the winding labyrinth of roads through Kensington; just another plus behind my smiling gaze.
“You seem in high spirits. Happy to leave me?” Alex looks towards me with puppy dog baby-blues.
Laughing at his display of disappointment, I smack his arm. “Don’t be silly. I’m just excited to have my own place. Why don’t you move in with me?”
“Don’t tempt me”. He flashes one of those knock-my-socks-off sexy, domineering glances.
Wow, this man makes me hot. I should feel sated from this morning’s sex-capades, yet with one simple look, he reduces me to a needy lust hound.
“Well, home sweet home”, he says, effortlessly parking in an available spot in front of my flat.
Smiling, I hop out and aimlessly stare up at my new home.
Grabbing my suitcases from the car, Alex walks towards me. “I have the key”, he says, interrupting my admiring gaze. “They’re in my front pocket. I can’t very well get them with my hands full, so…”
I smile at his sly grin.
“Su-ure”, I reply cheekily.
Sliding my fingers into the pocket of his jeans, I glide them around searchingly, a little more than necessary, swiping along his manhood. I smile in glee at his quick intake of breath at my purposeful search.
Who’s the sly one now, Mr. Tate? - my inner actress commends me.
“Jesus. Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He whispers, closing his eyes on a groan as I pull out the key.
“The feeling is mutual, hot stuff. Perhaps we’ll have to rectify that later”, I reply, gesturing towards the instant bulge in his jeans.
With a quick growl, he flashes his mischievous grin.
I laugh, turning to make my way towards the entrance to my new home. Filled with anticipation, I unlock the door, pushing it open eagerly; my steps quickening as I stride inside.
It’s as beautiful as I remember from my first visit.
That crazy first visit. I admit that my less than attentive brain wasn’t able to truly take in the apartment’s appeal that day. In my newfound sense of focus, I head directly into the living room, aimlessly running my fingers along the plush grey sofa.
Depositing my suitcases at the threshold, Alex approaches from behind, wrapping his arms gingerly around my waist.
I place my hands atop his as they engulf the span of my stomach, leaning my head back against his chest, sighing in contentment.
“I’m going to miss you”, he admits. “I’ve had you all to myself this past week. I’m not sure I’ll survive without you”.
A happy smile crosses my face at his admission; I close my eyes in comfort.
“I know what you mean. I feel the same way”, I confess, my earlier twinge of sadness returning at his reminder.
Turning me to face him, he absently runs his hands up and down my arms.
I look up into his serious gaze, searching his expression for an indication of what he’s thinking.
I’m far from a sadist, however his moroseness lifts my spirits slightly at the thought that he’ll miss me as much as I’ll miss him. Again, it’s simply shocking that Alexander Tate is as into me as he is.
“Want to have a sleepover?” I try to lighten our mood.
“I thought you’d never ask”, he replies, a small smile daunting his face.
I’m overjoyed that I was the one to put it there.
“I have to get through four lonely nights in LA without you this week, I want nothing more than to have you all night long before I go”, he adds, his eyes laced wit
h desire. Placing his hand at the nape of my neck, he tilts my head to take me in a sensual kiss.
He took my breath away with his words, their casual sexy tone rolling off his tongue – the tongue now reawakening the heated quivers in my sex as I attack his glorious pecs through his shirt.
Halting my massaging fingers, he grips them at his chest as he pulls his lips from mine. He closes his eyes on a deep breath, opening them in resigned mischief above a sexy grin. “Four nights in one, Miss Ryan, let’s get you settled and energized”. Releasing me, he continues in oblivion to the state of mush he just left me in. “The fridge is stocked. I asked Amira to arrange it before she left. So, that means you’re cooking, sweetheart”, he states, smacking my butt lightly as he makes his way to retrieve my bags.
Laughing at his playfulness, I attempt to regain the strength in my weakened knees before following him up the stairs. I make my way towards the refrigerator to scope out our lunch possibilities while he takes my bags to the bedroom.
He wasn’t kidding when he said the fridge was stocked. “Whoa, Alex! How much food did you ask Amira to buy? I’m just one person you know”, I yell so that he can hear me.
Joining me in the kitchen, I look at him over my shoulder as I hold the double doors open, “I mean, really, I’ll never eat this much food”.
“Well, you won’t have to. I plan on being here enough that you can feed both of us”, he drawls, dawning his boyish megawatt smile.
Laughing, I close the doors and turn to lean my back against the stainless steel, catching a glimpse of the island.
I’m instantly laced with desire at the sudden flashback of that teasing text, filled with sexual insinuation of its ‘aptness’ - care of Stacey. I wanted to kill her that day. Today, however, I feel nothing but gratitude. Gratitude and heated fervor at the entire notion.
Having followed my tempestuous gaze, Alex and I stare at the woodblock-covered structure as if sharing the same memory.
His beautiful lips curl up into a smirk as he looks down at me with his striking blue eyes.
God, those LIPS. What I want to do with them. I unconsciously bite down on my own, spellbound in the sudden tingles coursing through me. I’m lost between those perfect fuck-me lips and sexy-as-shit eyes. It’s sinful what this man can do to me from across a room with just a look, no words required.
Like a doll on a string, I’m at his side in an instant, staring up into those insatiable baby-blues.
Placing myself between him and the island, I teasingly run the palm of my hand over the surface as if to suggest the questioning of its suitability for what our shared memory entails.
“I was thinking…” I mutter in my mindless hand-slide. “Before we decide what we should cook for lunch, I imagine we should thoroughly inspect the kitchen’s capabilities. I wouldn’t want to spoil a respectable meal because I was unsure if the kitchen comes up to scratch”. I look impishly into his eyes.
“No, we wouldn’t want that”, he adds, simpering at my clear innuendo.
“It would be highly irresponsible of us”, I quip, provoking him as I lean forward over the top, my breasts coming in contact with its hard, cold surface.
“I conquer with your avid assessment, Ms. Ryan, and I do believe I’m up for the task”. He pulls my hand off the counter to glide it along his hardened erection.
With gentle force, he tugs me to face him; his firm hands gripping my hips as he leans down to tease my neck with his luscious kisses.
Breathless, I angle my head to give him better access. “Yes, you certainly are up”, I whisper, continuing to massage him through his jeans.
In one swift move, his hands are at the back of my thighs, his strong arms lifting me with ease to set me atop the island. His perfect lips never cease their incessant kisses along my jaw and down my neck.
Positioning himself between my widespread legs, he grabs me, forcefully pulling me against him.
I feel the hardness of his erection pushing against my pulsing sex, eliciting a moan from my lips.
Grabbing the back of my neck with firm, yet gentle hands, he generously works his magic; sifting his fingers through my hair and down my back. Every gliding touch sends intense shivers down my spine.
My hands match his in zealousness, ceaselessly touching him - tightening my fingers around the wavy locks at his nape, sliding over his broad shoulders before returning to run along his neck.
As I reach his stubble-covered jaw, he pulls away, leaning back to look at me.
I lose my breath at both the intimacy of our shared stare and the absolutely indescribable look of gentle longing emanating from his eyes.
I love that this man wants me, his need written all over his face.
Time could stand still in this moment. To see him look at me this way - with so much desire and care at the same time - rocks me to my core.
My God, I could so easily fall in love with this man. If I haven’t already - a fact I’m not quite ready to admit to myself just yet.
But who would blame me? How could I not fall in love with the man with so very many checks off my list? The man who wholeheartedly matches the one my inner dreamer has been wishing for. The man who makes me tingly and wet with just one look.
As if on cue, our lips meet, tongues dueling, curling, lavishing.
My heartbeat matches the fast paced rhythm of my rapidly pulsing sex. I want him inside me. I give way to making that crystal clear as my hands find their way back to the front of his jeans, frantically tearing open the button closure. I gasp at the feel his engorged erection beneath his boxers.
His lips quirk in a sensual smirk against mine.
Gliding his hands down my thighs to the hem of my skirt, he slowly slides it upwards; lifting my ass with one hand to pull the fabric from under me, pushing it out of obstruction.
He follows suit in the opposite direction, swiftly removing my panties in the same rapid motion.
I tug at the front of his boxers, relishing in the hard grown object of my desire. Wrapping my fingers around his width, I pull in want before rimming the tip, sliding the drop of pre-cum around its crown.
His kiss deepens with my sensual massage as he slides his hands between my legs, brushing my clit before plunging two fingers inside. They glide with welcome ease, in and out, slowly and sensually, his thumb swiping across my sensitive bud.
My hips grind against his hand as I massage his dewy cock. Moaning, I savor in the steady build of my pending orgasm, the inevitable explosive reply to his fingers. My head falls back as I scream his name, my pussy convulsing around his master-magician digits.
Lost in my lingering orgasm, I gasp as he pulls his fingers from my quaking sex - the motion tantalizing, leaving an empty yearning in its wake.
With dominant haste, he grasps his hardness, shifting me to the edge of the island before plunging inside; unleashing my breathy cry.
The fullness of him intertwined with the pulsing remnants of my orgasm drives me wild. Grabbing him, I attack his lips, dueling my tongue with his, clawing at him in desperation.
His rhythm is steady as he slowly slides his cock out of my quivering core, the large crown enticing a delicious electrified ring of clenched want at my folds before he slides in deep once more.
My legs wrap tighter around him, pulling him against me in my need to be fucked harder.
He grips my thighs to brace his momentum as his thrusts deepen; his pace quickening.
I moan into our frenzied kiss, my body jolting against the pounding thrashes of his cock, his breath gusting hard and fast at my ear.
“Yes!” I scream, my body stilling momentarily, signaling my impending plummet. My orgasm explodes through me, my body jerking with every pulse of pleasure.
Releasing a guttural groan, he falls with me; his shooting blasts tantalizing my explosive eruption.
~
“How’s your BLT?” I look towards Alex across the bistro table as we sit on the terrace.
“It’s good. I’m starvin
g”, he confesses, between bites.
“Worked up an appetite did you?” I tease, relishing in our island test drive.
Forgoing his next bite, he stares at me intently. “Keep it up, sweetheart, and I’ll be forced to assess the suitability of the terrace”.
His serious expression gives me caution. I’m not sure I can handle any more orgasms for a while. The man has seriously worn me out.
Biting my lip through my mental recap of our thorough ‘christening’ of the kitchen - a delicious visual of Alex taking me from behind; my fingers grasping the island’s surface where he‘d just treated me to two fantastic orgasms moments before - I have to wonder if my body can survive his insatiable appetite. I need to rein it in a bit; give my body a much-needed rest.
“Hold your horses there, big guy. I need a break”. I throw a potato chip at him.
Efficient as ever, he catches it, popping it into this mouth, dawning a dashing smile.
“I wish you didn’t have to leave tomorrow”, I state, hoping to deter his suggestion of a terrace ‘christening’.
“Me too. Luckily, these postproduction meetings should only take a few days. I’ll be back before you know it”. He smiles reassuringly.
Our otherworldly week together had sheltered me from the realities of his career. Well, with the exception of the mob of fans we’ve endured to date. However, after spending every waking moment with him, it makes his return to his own normal routine - a.k.a. the travelling actor - a bigger pill to suddenly swallow.
“I’ll miss you”.
“I would hope so, Ms. Ryan. What do you plan to do while I’m gone?”
Now that’s a good question. What will I do with myself? Read? Cry myself to sleep each night in my lonely bed? The depressing thoughts instantly send me into a reality-check tailspin.
This isn’t good. I can’t be dependent on him after such a short time - unable to survive in his absence. Or worse, have that vulnerability apparent.
“Well… I should better acquaint myself with the neighborhood. You know, get settled. Maybe do some shopping”, I ramble in hopes of sounding independent and strong.