Breathless for Him (Davison & Allegra)

by Sofia Tate

  He looks up at me from his meal. “What are you looking for?”

  “Just my phone. Want to check my messages.”

  He raises his eyebrow at me before diving back into his chicken curry. Now that he’s occupied again, I turn on the camera.

  “Davison?”

  He raises his head. “Yeah?”

  Click!

  He starts talking with his mouth still full. “What the hell was that?”

  I turn the phone around so he can see the picture I just snapped.

  He’s looking at himself dressed in a black button-down shirt, open at the collar, his green eyes ablaze, with a nickel-sized spot of curry sauce in the left corner of his mouth.

  “I’m deleting this,” he announces as he snatches the phone away from me.

  In a flash, I reach over to grab it from his hands, but he fights me for it, lifting it high above my head.

  “Give it to me, Davison!”

  “No way! That has blackmail potential written all over it.”

  “If you don’t give it to me—”

  “You’ll do what?”

  “No sex for you tonight.”

  His arm shoots down from the air, gently placing the phone on the table in front of me. I now know something else about Davison Berkeley that nobody else does. Under the threat of withholding sex, he turns into pure mush.

  We’re sitting in a cozy back corner of Spice Market, a popular restaurant in the Meatpacking District. The trendy neighborhood around West Fourteenth Street is not familiar to me, but he wanted to take me somewhere fun for our first public date. He had made the right choice. I love the space, the dark wood accentuating the deep-colored draperies that contribute to its laid-back yet sultry Southeast Asian feel.

  “I’ve never seen this evil side of you, Orsini.”

  “I have my moments.” I smirk at him.

  “Is the sauce still there?”

  “Yes.”

  He grins wickedly at me. “Then maybe you should get rid of it.”

  Mirroring his smile on my own face, I reach over with my right thumb and begin rubbing it against the sauce.

  “I think I got it.”

  “I don’t think so. A bit more to the left.”

  As I move my thumb closer, he catches me by surprise, opening his mouth to take in my thumb, clamping his lips over it before I can get a chance to pull it out.

  I start to breathe more heavily as he slowly runs his tongue around the pad of my thumb, licking off the curry sauce. My heart beats faster as he sucks in the rest of it, past the joint, coming to an end when he reaches my knuckle.

  My panties grow wetter with each lick. Our eyes fix on each other, his darkening with lust, mine with desire, signaling that I’m his to do with as he wishes.

  He finally releases my thumb from his mouth with a pop, but then he grabs my hands and runs his lips over my knuckles.

  “I think I got it all, don’t you?”

  I nod silently as he twines my fingers through his, placing my hand under the table on top of the large bulge in the crotch of his black tailored pants.

  He leaves my hand there as he reaches over to finish the last of his beer.

  “Did you enjoy the steak?”

  “Very much,” I tell him as I begin massaging his hard cock through the wool material.

  With my left hand, I pick up my mojito and take a long sip.

  Davison starts to fidget slightly. “You don’t want dessert, do you?” he asks with a small cough.

  I continued rubbing his hard-on. “What do you think, Mr. Berkeley?”

  With lightning speed, his right hand leaps in the air, giving our waiter the universal check-signing gesture.

  Once he pays the bill, he grabs me by the hand, pulling me firmly behind him as I try to edge my way elegantly around the table without knocking anything over.

  At the coat check, he hands over our claim tickets, rubbing the small of my back with his other hand. He leans over and whispers, “I hope our first public date wasn’t too painful for you. I’m so glad you said yes.”

  “Me too. I had a wonderful time.”

  “I’ll be expressing my gratitude to you when we get in the car.”

  I don’t know how to tell Davison how much this evening has meant to me. For a few hours, I didn’t think about the fiasco with Ashton and the ring, and the anonymous envelopes. I smile widely at him as he helps me into my coat before putting on his own.

  As we walk out the door, he’s holding me around the waist, his face in my hair, when a barrage of lights begins flashing in our faces.

  “Over here, Davison!”

  “What happened to Ashton?”

  “Who’s the girl? Are you fucking her?”

  Suddenly, we’re crushed against the wall of the restaurant. His grip around my waist tightens. The flashbulbs are blinding me. When I do open my eyes, I can see Davison raising his right hand up to hold off the paparazzi.

  Oh God…

  “Get the fuck back!” he yells. “I said back off!”

  If not for Davison’s arm around me, I would freeze in place. We seem to be walking slower with each step. I fist my right hand into his jacket, afraid that I’ll lose him in the scrum. I burrow my face into his side to hide from the cameras. His left hand clamps over my head to keep me hidden from view. The way his body twists from side to side, Davison is fighting to get through the crowd, using his elbows, shoulders, and every other part of his body to clear a path for us.

  “Fuck! Where the hell is Charles?” he shouts to himself above the photographers.

  Don’t leave me, Davison.

  I can feel us moving faster, which probably means he spotted the Maybach. I peek out from under Davison’s side and see an open car door. I sense the edge of the curb under my feet as Davison pushes me as far into the car as I can go, almost tumbling me into the door on the other side. The car door slams, and within seconds, we pull away, the tires screeching against the pavement.

  Something is happening to me. I hear words being spoken, but it’s as if I’m hearing them through a curtain of gauze.

  “Damn it, Charles! Where the hell were you?”

  “I’m so sorry, sir. They came from out of nowhere.”

  “Fucking vultures! Just get us home now!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The Maybach starts to speed down the street. I hear Davison sigh. “Someone must’ve called the paps when we were there,” he mutters under his breath. “I’m so sorry—”

  I know something is wrong when Davison starts shaking me and repeating my name again and again. I’m watching from outside my body what’s happening to me, and I can’t say anything.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” I hear him shout. “Allegra! You’re shaking like a fucking leaf! Charles, move! NOW!”

  The car moves, gliding along the road. We are going so fast. I see lights whir past us. I’m on a carpet ride of some kind, I think. It feels amazing.

  Suddenly, I’m being pulled out of the car and lifted into someone’s arms.

  He whispers in my ear, “It’s okay. You’re safe, baby. We’re home.”

  I see the marble lobby of Davison’s building, then the interior of the elevator. Before I know it, I’m lying on Davison’s bed.

  He is leaning over me. He presses the back of his hands against my face.

  “You’re freezing, baby. I’m going to get some blankets.”

  My shoes are being removed from my feet, my belt coming undone. Something soft falls over me, grazing my chin. I hear shoes dropping to the ground.

  Davison’s body envelops me, bringing me into a warm cocoon with his arms. I don’t even know I’m speaking until he whispers in my ear.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for, baby. I’m here. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

  His heartbeat against my back lulls me into darkness.

  * * *

  My eyes open to bright light streaming through Davison’s bedroom windows. I adjust them by
blinking a few times, trying to recall how I got there. Then I remember. I remember everything.

  I stretch my body, feeling sore all over. I slowly move toward the edge of the bed, swinging my legs over. I moan from the aches as I rise to my feet, my body protesting against me.

  I peek out into the hallway. I hear someone’s fingers tapping on a keyboard.

  “Davison?” I ask tentatively into the open space.

  His beautiful face appears within a minute from his office. He quickly comes over, taking me into his arms. “Baby, what are you doing out of bed?”

  “I have to go. I have class.”

  He shakes his head. “No way. You’re staying here with me today.”

  “I can’t miss school.”

  “Are you allowed any absences?”

  I nod. “One. Unexcused.”

  “Then today you’re taking it. And I’ll call William and get him to get a temp to cover your shift tonight.”

  “No, I can’t miss work. I’m telling you, I’m perfectly capable of going to school and work. I need to do this,” I insist.

  “Lucky for you, I know the boss. And after last night, I want you to take it easy.”

  I shut my eyes, recalling last night’s events. “About that. I’m really sorry. I can’t believe I just lost it like that. I don’t know what happened…”

  He grabs my shoulders. “Stop it. Those pap scumbags are what happened. They’re vicious when they want something. None of it is your fault. You’re staying with me today. Case closed, Allegra.”

  I know better than to argue with him when he’s in this protective mode. I stare at my wrinkled clothes. “Fine. I’m too tired to fight. Any chance I can take a shower?”

  He takes me by the hand, leading me back through his bedroom into the adjoining bathroom. “There are fresh towels laid out for you, a new toothbrush on the counter, and a bathrobe hanging on the back of the door. Do you need me to stay?”

  Suddenly, I panic. “Are you leaving?”

  He cups my face with his hands. “I’m not going anywhere today. Anyway, I can’t exactly go to the office dressed like this.”

  I smile at his Harvard sweatshirt and torn jeans. A thought strikes me. “Where’s my purse?”

  “In the kitchen. I’ll leave it on the bed for you. Oh, and I called your father and told him you stayed over last night because you weren’t feeling well.”

  I soften at everything he’s done for me in the past twelve hours. I’m most grateful for the fact that he hasn’t pushed me for answers. “Thank you, Harvard. For everything.”

  He leans in, gently kissing me on the lips. “Anything for you, beautiful. Take as long as you need.”

  I walk into the bathroom, where I brush my teeth with the toothbrush Davison left for me. I turn on the shower, letting the water run until it reaches the right temperature. I step in, allowing the water to sluice over me down my front and back. It feels amazing, cleansing myself, feeling whole again. I spot a bottle of coconut shampoo on the built-in marble shower shelf.

  I shake my head and smile to myself.

  That man.

  Once I finish in the shower, I wrap myself into the bathrobe that feels like heaven against my body. I get my phone from my purse to check my messages. One voice mail from my father, and nine texts from Lucy, all telling me to check out that day’s Page Six.

  I open the browser on my phone and search for the website.

  When it pops up, I’m staring back at my face hidden in Davison’s coat, his arm outstretched to protect me from the paparazzi. The headline reads, “Who’s Davison’s New Mystery Girl?”

  Fuck!

  “DAVISON!”

  Footsteps pound outside in the hallway. Half-crazed, he appears at my side in seconds. “What happened? What is it?”

  I show him the picture on my phone screen. “We’re on Page Six!”

  He exhales in relief. “Christ, Allegra, is that all?”

  “What do you mean ‘is that all?’ Everyone knows now.”

  “So?”

  Shit. Shit. Shit. I have to go. This isn’t going to work.

  I spot my clothes on the bed. I walk over, take off the robe, and start getting dressed.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m sorry, but I have to go,” I tell him as firmly as I can over my shoulder.

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “I have to,” I repeat as I’m bending over and putting on my shoes.

  Before I can stop him, he walks over to me and yanks me upright so he can look at me.

  “What is with you? It’s just Page Six, for crying out loud! This shit happens to me all the time.”

  “Exactly, and that’s why I have to go.”

  “Fuck, Allegra, I don’t get it. Just tell me what’s wrong,” he pleads, shaking me slightly by the shoulders.

  Tell him. How? How do I tell him? How do I tell him that I was the subject of a two-day police search when I was five after I saw my mother murdered?

  “I’ll have to quit my job,” I decide aloud.

  “What are you talking about? Of course you won’t. And if anyone gives you a hard time, you’ll tell me.”

  My heart is pounding in my chest. I stare at him. This man. This man who has been nothing but kind, warm, and thoughtful to me, and now I just want to walk away because of what might not even happen?

  I sit down on the bed, confused as ever, and Davison joins me, taking my hand in his.

  “Baby, I think you’re just tired from last night. That’s why I want you to stay here: so I can take care of you.”

  The fabric of the policeman’s shirt is rough under my hands. He is running with me, holding me tightly in his arms. I can’t see anything because my eyes are being blinded by all of the lights. The flashing lights that won’t stop going off.

  “Almost there, Mia. You’ll see your daddy in a minute.”

  He takes a step up into a truck. It’s an ambulance. He sets me down.

  “Mia!”

  I hear Papa’s voice. When the policeman backs away, I see him. His eyes are all red and puffy. His hands shake as he reaches for me, holding me, kissing my hair over and over.

  I start to cry out, “Papa! I want Mamma! I want Mamma!”

  He cries into my hair. “She’s gone, cara. She’s gone. I’m so sorry.”

  “Allegra? Are you all right?”

  Davison shakes my arm. I turn to him, a worried look reflecting in his emerald eyes.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” I reassure him as best I can. “Would it be…Could we just stay in the next few weeks?”

  “Why?” His demeanor changes when he looks into my eyes. “Never mind, stupid question. I get it.”

  “You do?” I ask nervously.

  “Last night really freaked you out, and you’re not used to that kind of attention.”

  If you only knew.

  “Yes,” I murmur.

  “I’m okay with that,” he replies, caressing my face with the tips of his fingers. “We’ll be hermits. I’m loving the sound of that, actually.”

  He stands up and walks over to one of the closets. He returns with a Harvard wardrobe consisting of sweatpants, a T-shirt, and a hoodie.

  “You can wear these. When you’re ready, come to the kitchen. There’s a feast waiting for you.”

  “Davison, about last night…Did I say anything?”

  He shakes his head. “Nothing of consequence. You just kept saying you were sorry about something. I held you until you fell asleep.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I told you I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” He pulls me to my feet. “Now get changed and come eat.” He kisses me on the forehead and walks out.

  Once he’s gone, I take in a deep breath and release the air from my lungs.

  Fuck. This is not good. Not one damn bit.

  * * *

  I’m sitting at Davison’s dining table, surrounded by a glass pitcher of fresh-squeezed orange juice, a platte
r of fruit, a basket of warm croissants, butter, jam, and a French press full of coffee. It is pure bliss being taken care of like this, something I’m not used to in my life.

  I hear Davison on the phone when a ding from his private elevator sounds, signaling that someone has entered the apartment. Not sure if he heard it, I get up from the table and walk to the foyer.

  An older woman in a mink coat is standing in front of me. The collar of a quilted suit jacket pokes through the top of her fur, with black patent pumps on her feet and a black alligator bag with a round bamboo handle in her right hand. Her light gray hair is pulled into a bun on the back of her head. There is something about the woman’s face that seems familiar.

  “Hello. May I help you?”

  “I’m Mona Cabot Berkeley, Davison’s mother. You must be Allegra.”

  My throat goes dry. I cough slightly to get my voice back. “Umm, yes, that’s me, Mrs. Berkeley. Allegra Orsini.”

  Great first impression. I’m dressed in Davison’s clothes and I sound like an idiot in front of his mother. Well done.

  “Baby, who was—”

  Davison stops suddenly when he sees his mother standing in his foyer. “Mom, what are you doing here?” he asks with a smile, stepping closer to her to give her a hug.

  She pecks him on the cheek. “Just checking up on you, darling. I saw you this morning in the paper and wanted to make sure you were all right. Those photographers are such beasts.” She turns to me out of her son’s embrace. “Are you all right, dear?” she asks, placing a hand on my shoulder.

  Totally caught off guard by her concern, I stutter again. “Umm, yes…thank you. I’m just glad your son was with me.”

  He smiles sweetly at me, then turns to his mother. “Was there anything else, Mom?”

  “My goodness, Davison, I never taught you to be so rude, did I? As a matter of fact, I wanted to invite Allegra to dinner with you, your father, and myself at our house. Perhaps next week? I want to get to know her better.”

  Her last words make me shiver. But this is Davison’s mother. I need to get over the fear of the unknown.

  “I would like that very much. Thank you.”

  She nods at me with a smile. “Wonderful. I’ll look forward to it. I’ll be on my way, then. I have an appointment.”