by Fifi Flowers
“’Probably?’ Definitely! I’m not letting you go anywhere without some protection. I will talk to Charles today, and we will find someone to accompany you when you're not with me. You need to quit your job. I wanted you to quit before I knew any of this. I want you to travel with me. I don’t want us to be apart and now I’m really going to worry if you don’t go with me.”
“Quit my job…” my voice trailed off as I wondered: Do I want to quit my job? What will I do without it? What will I do if he leaves me? Will I be able to get my position back? I know don’t need it, but it has been my security blanket for… My thoughts are interrupted by Evan’s voice.
“Bébé, call the office today. Leave a message. You're not going back to work. Pack a bag. I’m going to do a couple of errands, head over to my apartment to gather a few things for the weekend then go to the car park and pick up my car. We’ll leave early enough to drive up today, have dinner and then play time at the inn.” He gave me a sexy grin, but I could see the wheels turning in his head. Was he really okay with this? Only time would tell.
I found myself closed off and quiet while we finished breakfast. So many things were going through my head, and I was wondering what he was thinking. Removing our empty dishes, I cleaned up the kitchen quickly while he finished doing whatever it was he was doing on his tablet. I wanted things to go back to how they were this morning. I tried to see if I could still spark his interest while he was deep in thought. “I’m going to go take a shower. You want to wash my back?”
He looked up with that grin I adored. “I’d rather wash your front.” With that, he was up off the sofa, and I was being stripped of my clothing. He placed me on the kitchen island. “Time to fulfill my fantasy.” Pushing me back, his head went between my legs. Looking into those blue eyes smirking at me, I wondered ‘whose fantasy is this?’
“Let’s get you nice and dirty before we get a shower, bébé.” He growled.
“Oh mon dieu. You can get me as dirty as you want. And, by the way, I love this butcher block counter.” I hissed out between moans.
ONCE EVAN LEFT to run errands and grab a bag for the weekend, I wandered around the apartment. I took special notice of all he achieved in such a short time. There were so many details I didn't notice. Little touches that personalized the apartment. It felt like a home, but it would feel like hell if Evan decided to leave. If that was to happen, I knew that I would vacate the apartment forever. That loss would be too much to bear. Yes. If it ended. I was thinking it was going to end, but I knew I needed to move past these thoughts. He wanted to live with me. He wanted to go to bed with me every night and wake with me every morning. He never gave me any reason to believe that he was going to leave. I just started thinking and ruminating and, most of the time, misinterpreted his actions.
I guess I didn't quite feel his equal. He was a public figure. I was just a girl trying to live a normal, quiet life. Of course, what attracted me first to Evan were his good looks. But he was so much more. The looks were just a bonus. He was so giving, generous, charming, witty, loving, and a true gentleman. He did amazing work with charity projects; making life better for others. His inner-being was what made him the most attractive. I knew he was attracted to me, too. I needed to be more confident in our relationship, and so today, I, Melissa Camille Bennette, would start with a new attitude! This was what I told myself, but would I follow through? Would I succeed?
IN THE LATE afternoon, Evan arrived at the apartment and had the front desk call for me to hurry down. Phillip helped me with my bags. When I walked out of the building wearing jeans, a black turtle-neck sweater, a leopard scarf, and flat black boots, I saw him standing next to a classic Mercedes 300SL roadster. Very nice. My sexy man was dressed in a pair of jeans, midnight blue sweater with a button-down white shirt beneath, a tweed chapeau and dark brown, narrow, pointed toed boots. I wanted to jump on him right there on the sidewalk. I settled for a nice amorous kiss from him before slipping into the car. We drove upstate listening to jazzy music. The music matched the car.
“I’m seeing a trend here. You have a thing for vintage sports cars, monsieur?” My question received a big smile. Swoon!
“I have a thing for cars, bébé. Especially vintage. My dad bought a vintage sports car when they moved upstate. A white 1957 MGA Roadster with red seats. He and my mom used to participate in car rallies. When I started rebelling because I was less than thrilled to be taken away from the city, my dad got me involved in his car club. I was hooked as soon as I went to my first rally and saw a bevy of vintage cars.”
“Sounds like a lot of fun for a young man.”
“It was. Probably one of the best times with the club was when we got involved with the Grand Prix circuit and the club members volunteered to work race management. My dad made sure I had a good spot to watch the race. My job was to keep drunken people off the race course, so I was equipped with an official t-shirt that read Race Management, a whistle and a set of ear plugs. I had a great time with full VIP access to the pits, but by far the best part was I got to ride in the Pace Car around the track. However it could’ve been better if they let me drive the car.”
“Would you like to drive a race car? Dumb question. Don’t answer that. Do you still participate in car rallies with the club?”
“No, my dad no longer belongs to that club, but I would love to get back into doing car rallies when my schedule permits it. My dad would probably love to get back into racing. He always says driving a race car is the most fun you can have with your pants on,” he said with a hearty laugh.
“So your father is to blame for your wicked ways.” I laughed receiving a smirk. In turn, I steered the subject away from sexy time talk. “Does he still have the MG? I would love to see it. Those MG sports cars are so cute!”
“Cute?” He laughed and answered, “No. Although, he did just purchase another vintage car and is having it restored. He’s sparked my interest, and I gave him a list of cars for him to start scouting for me. I think I would like another vintage car.” A big smile spread across his handsome face and sparkling blue eyes looked my direction as he asked, “Do you know how to drive a manual transmission? I’d love to take you to the track one day.”
“Yes. My father insisted I know how to drive both manual and automatic. My first car was a five-speed manual transmission convertible VW Beetle... What track?”
“Why does that not surprise me? I can see you driving that car. It's very girly!” He smiled and as usual, my panties moistened. Will the butterflies in my stomach ever stop when he looks at me with those pearly whites and gleaming blue eyes? “Yes, a race track in Monticello. My dad and I sometimes go out to the track for a little friendly competition."
“I see how you drive on the streets; I can only imagine you on a race track.” I laughed and then I was suddenly thrown by a familiar old tune starting to play. “And this music interest?”
“Vintage car. Vintage music. Maybe I was born in the wrong era.” Evan laughed.
“You sound like my mother.” This music reminded me of her. “She loved old movies, especially musicals. She always played old standards and sung along. She said her ultimate dream was to sing in a swanky lounge, reclining on a grand piano in an evening gown.” I could visualize her. She was so beautiful. I wished she could meet this amazing man next to me. I was quiet. Evan reached over and squeezed my hand. I smiled and turned to look at him. “I wish you could’ve known my parents.”
“Me too, bébé... Me too.”
I didn't want to cry, so I inquired more about his rebellion years. “So you rebelled, and your dad put you in check?” I grinned at him, and he smirked.
“I rebelled a little. Never liked living upstate. Missed city living. The car stuff helped. But I was quite upset that my parents took me away from my friends. Every chance I got, I stayed in the city. I’m a city boy. What about you, do you miss living upstate? Are you a country girl at heart?”
“Actually, I love New York. Loved when my par
ents would take me into the city; I would imagine living a glamorous lifestyle. When it came time to select a college, I applied to universities in Manhattan. The only thing I miss about ‘country living’ is the life I had with my parents.” I could feel tears start to fall on my cheeks, and I sighed, “There’s nothing in the country for me now.”
Tenderly he reached for my hand, bringing it to his mouth; he kissed the inside of my wrist. Oh mon dieu! I love him!
As we drove farther north, I could see we were nearing my hometown, and I was a bit apprehensive until we pulled into the long driveway of a beautiful bed and breakfast. I could see we were within walking distance of downtown where I spent many hours shopping, eating, and hanging out with my high school friends. I hadn't been up here since my parents' funeral. And before that I hadn't been in this quaint little part of downtown since my last year of high school. It was hard to believe that was eleven years ago.
“My parents live a couple of miles from here.” Evan said idly as he peered out the windshield at the Inn.
“You're only three years older than me. I'm surprised we lived so close to each other, and I never knew you. This town is not exactly big,” I stated looking at him. “I can’t imagine I would forget your handsome face.”
“I attended an all-boys school so I would not have seen you there. And I went into to the city to visit friends as often as my parents would allow me. Right after high school graduation I left for good, got a job interning in Manhattan the summer before university and lived with a friend's family.”
“And your sisters are not close to my age either? So close and yet so far apart.”
“No. My oldest sister is three years older than me, and my youngest sister is eight years younger. I think she was an ‘oops’ baby, but don’t tell her that.” Evan laughed and added, “She’s a good oops. You will meet both of them tomorrow night. They will both love you.”
I was a bit nervous and yet a bit excited to meet his family. Being around a family during the holidays would be nice. I hoped so, anyway.
Sensing my anxiety, Evan smiled, giving my knee a quick squeeze, “Here we are, bébé! Let's go check it out.”
Evan helped me out of the car as I glanced around, taking it all in. “I can’t believe I’ve lived in this town practically my whole life, and I’ve never seen this place before. I guess it could be that it’s surrounded by beautiful old oak trees that hide it from the main road.”
The inn was quite picturesque, like something out of an old movie. It was a large white Colonial style house with black shutters set on arched multi-paned windows, and window boxes that were probably filled with beautiful flowers in warmer weather. It was like being transported right into one of the musicals I loved to watch with my mother at Christmas time. I could imagine singing bellhops greeting us at the front door. I felt my chest tighten, but I refused to give in to it. I was determined to abandon all negative thoughts and make this a happy getaway.
“What do you think?”
“I think I would like you naked, between my legs, in one of the rooms.” I giggled. “Oh, and the inn is lovely.”
“Oh bébé.” He growled. “I can guarantee just that once we get checked in.” This time when he grabbed for my hand instead of kissing my wrist he nibbled and licked my wrist. I couldn't help but moan as tingles ran from my wrist, up my arm, down my trembling body and straight between my thighs.
With a small grin tugging at his lips, he guided me through the entrance into a quaint holiday wonderland complete with a huge Christmas tree. While he went to the front desk to check-in, I looked around: I adored the white railing wrapped with holiday garland and ribbons that ran up the large wooden staircase that led to the second floor. Enormous area rugs throughout all of the rooms took the chill off the dark hard wood floors. Through the doorway on the left, I could see the restaurant dining room. Off to the right was a large sitting room, parlor. Comfy looking furnishings were arranged in front of a delightful roaring fire. At the end of the room, there were two opened doors leading to a library. The place was so romantic and smelled of Christmas; cinnamon and pine cones. I felt like twirling around in all the holiday warmth. I was so wrapped up in my fantasy that I didn't hear Evan until he tapped me on the shoulder. I spun around to look into his blue, blue eyes, and I knew mine were sparkling right back into his. Throwing my arms around his neck, I placed kisses all over his face.
Evan hugged me, kissed my forehead and laughed. “Come on, bébé. I got us one of the bungalows behind the main house.” He raised a wicked eyebrow. “I don’t want you to scare the other guest when I make you scream over and over.”
“Mmmm.” I giggled, and apparently blushed because Evan commented on how my face was turning a lovely shade of pink.
We returned to the car and Evan drove around to the back of the property to our private bungalow. It was very charming, bright and cheerful inside; an adorable smaller version of the main house. There was a sitting area in front of a fireplace and a large four-poster bed. In the bathroom, there was a huge claw-foot tub for two as well as a shower. It was all very romantic. Evan brought our bags in, hung our evening wear and deposited our luggage on the floor. I was standing in the middle of the room, taking it all in, when strong arms swept me up and carried me straight to bed.
“Hmmm. I like these bedposts,” he growled while he covered my throbbing body and bit my neck.
“Is that so?” I laughed softly, “What do you like about them?”
“Let me show you, bébé,” he said in a deep husky whisper.
DRESSED FOR DINNER in evening entire, we walked to the inn. Entering a back entrance that took us through a lounge, a jazz combo was playing in the corner near a dance floor. In the main dining room tables were dressed for the holiday with forest green tablecloths and red poinsettias. The smells coming from the kitchen were incredible, and the food proved to be just as scrumptious as Evan’s chef friend Luc-Julien said it would be. The wine selection was exquisite, but the best part of this dining experience was being in the company of this gorgeous man. Truly divine!
As our dining experience drew to an end, Evan stood and extended his hand to me, “Dance with me, bébé.”
He kissed the inside of my wrist as we followed the sound of the soft jazz and headed back to the lounge. On the dance floor, he twirled me into his arms. I smiled and purred, “Nice move.”
His hand moved into the small of my back, and he pulled me firmly into him. I place one hand on his shoulder, and he took my other hand into his and held it close to his chest. Swaying to the music he closed the gap between us, moving his mouth to my ear he began to sing. I swooned in his arms as I heard words drip from his lips; he has a crush… hear me sigh… fall with such emotion. My heart swelled with joy as I closed my eyes and floated away to a place filled with love, filled with hope, filled with all I had ever dreamt. Filled with Evan.
As the song ended, he whispered, “Time to get out of here. I want you under me. Over me. Basically, I want to fuck you every which way, bébé.”
In a moaning whispered, I told him, “I’m yours to do as you wish.” Looking up, batting my eyelashes at my handsome date, I added, “Emmène-moi au lit maintenant. Take me to bed now, monsieur.”
Looking like the cat that swallowed the canary, he answered my request, “Mmmm. With great pleasure. Avec grand plaisir, mademoiselle.”
SLIDING OUR BODIES together between the sheets turned into slipping into the shower and connecting again. Mmmm. We couldn't seem to stop the need to constantly pleasure each other. Once sated for a second time this morning, we dressed warmly and ventured outdoors where we were greeted by a crisp but sunny day. Too cold to walk, we drove down the road to the downtown area. The town had certainly changed. It appeared far more hip and trendy than when I was younger. There were some high-end fashion shops, art galleries, cafes, gourmet food shops along with the antique shops I remembered.
“Bébé, let’s grab some breakfast. I’m starving. After we ea
t, let’s rummage through some of the antique shops.”
“Perfect. I adore antiquing!”
We ate breakfast in a tiny café and then hit the shops. While Evan was off looking in cases filled with unique cuff links, I stumbled upon an apothecary cabinet complete with several little square drawers with metal ring pulls. It reminded me of a couple of art history books I read about artists going to the apothecary/pharmacist to have their canvas materials stretched and to purchased their supplies; oils, pigments, brushes. The pigments would be stored in the apothecary cabinet until they were mixed with oils or egg whites. I was drawn to the cabinet. It seemed to speak to me. I ran my fingers along the front of it. If only it could speak, what stories would it tell? The writing on the front of it was in French. L'art est une expérience qui transcende toutes les frontières culturelles... il nous fait sentir! - Art is an experience that transcends all cultural boundaries... it makes us feel! Who wrote that, I wondered? Opening and closing drawers, I closed my eyes picturing the artists of the past and their delight at seeing the drawers filled with colour. As I continued to daydream, I felt Evan move in behind me. I could smell him. He became part of my vision. I loved the thought of him nude laying on a daybed while I sketched him. I let out a big sigh and licked my lips. My nipples perked when I heard whispering in my ear.
“Bébé, what are you imagining? It must be erotic by the look on your face and your erratic breathing. You're making me hard.”
I backed against him trying to steady my breathing, and returned to reality. He wrapped his arms around me, and I slowly open my eyes remembering that we were in a public shop. “This cabinet is amazing. It took me away to the past. I was romanticizing about being an artist, purchasing pigments from an apothecary shop that would have the pigments stored in this.” I ran my hand along the top of the cabinet again and sighed.