He placed his hands on my hips, greedily holding me to him. I liked riding him slowly and seeing the look on his face as I moved up and down his shaft. I found it empowering knowing that the rhythm I created was the root of his pleasure. I leaned forward, and placed my hands on his chest, then relaxed my arms so that I could flick my tongue across his lips. He opened his mouth and caressed my tongue with his own, then moved his hands to grip my arse with sensational force. The look we bore into each other’s eyes was intense, and as our pelvic movements escalated so did my orgasm. I sat up, arched my head back and touched my breasts.
“Alexis, you are fucking gorgeous, especially when you touch yourself.” Holy fuck, the things you say to me, Mr. Clark. I reached my climax, and his followed closely behind. He sat up and wrapped his arms around me, securing me to his chest. We didn’t say anything, just hugged each other for what felt like hours. I could have stayed like that indefinitely, but the rumble that roared from within my stomach indicated I had to indulge in breakfast. Laughing, he pulled away, and looked down at my belly. “Lucky for you, my love, there’s a big plate of blueberry pancakes downstairs with your name on it.” Yum! I couldn’t possibly love you anymore my, smirky Chef.
“Mr. Clark, you are just too good to me,” I said as I pressed a quick kiss to his lips. I was quite eager to get the delicious circles of antioxidants into my mouth, when the thought of pancakes reminded me of my children. I hope they are all right. I was definitely going to ring Mum after breakfast to see how they were and to face the music.
I climbed off Bryce’s now fallen soldier and grabbed the navy satin nightie that had been discarded on the floor in the early hours of the morning. Bryce put his jeans back on and gave me the ‘I’m going to lift you up look’.
“Don’t even think about it, I’m walking!” I couldn’t have been more matter of fact, than if I had shook my finger at him, placed one hand on my hip and wobbled my head at the same time. He put his hands up in defence and just laughed at me. There was something about his laugh that gave me the sense he was still hiding something. “What?”
“Nothing, Ms. Summers.” Bullshit, nothing. Grrrrr. He smirked, grabbed my hand, and led me downstairs.
***
The man was a god—a sexy, mouth-wateringly sweet and talented god— and the dish he just put in front of me only added to his list of credentials. Plated on the table before me was a stack of heart-shaped blueberry pancakes, with a dollop of yogurt and some berries on the side. I put my hands to my chest as the sentiment was truly adorable.
“That’s so sweet, thank you.” Unfortunately though, I was now struggling to come to terms with the fact I was going to have to ruin his masterpiece by consuming it.
“It’s what I do, Ms. Summers.” Oh, Mr. Clark, I’ll do you in a minute. I picked up my fork. But it looks so pretty, I can’t do it... Alexis, stab the pancakes you stupid bitch. I hesitated then speared the pile of berries instead, and dipped them into the yogurt. Looking up I noticed Bryce smirking at me. I smiled sweetly back at him and then popped the blueberries into my mouth. Is he just going to sit there and watch me eat? I hate it when he watches me eat.
“For the love of God! What Bryce?”
“Nothing, my love.”
“Stop saying that. Clearly there is something you’re not telling me.” I glared at him. He lowered his head with a grin, and took in a mouthful of his own pancakes. I, however, continued to hover over mine. They really did look yummy. How could I possibly devour this plate of love? I lifted the top pancake with my fork and underneath it was another perfect heart. They were all equally impeccable and I found them to be more and more untouchable the longer I looked at them. Just do it, Alexis. I was still contemplating the angle of attack when Bryce got impatient and destroyed my blueberry tower of love with his fork. “Hey?”
“Eat them.” He scowled.
“But they looked so cute and pretty, and I didn’t want to wreck them.” With my bottom lip pouting, I forked the sabotaged pile and placed some into my mouth. Oh, these are just divine! The pout disappeared and I quickly followed with some more. “You do realise you just broke my hearts?” I mumbled with a mouthful.
“Hunny, if I ever broke your heart, I would mend it.” He looked sincere. Oh, okay, a Dr. Phil moment that has come out of nowhere. I searched his newly stern face.
“But what if you couldn’t mend it?”
“That’s not an option.” The serious nature this conversation had turned into was starting to worry me. It was as though he was trying to tell me something or reassure me. Whatever it was, I didn’t like it.
“Well, it is simple then, isn’t it? You won’t have to worry about mending my heart, if you promise to never break it.” I aggressively stabbed the remainder of my ‘Leaning Tower of Pancake-Love’ and ate it. His smile returned which then magnetised my own.
I loved sitting out on his balcony eating a meal with him that he had cooked. It was so different to what I was used to back at home. I was used to slaving over the stove for hours covered in pot splatter, sporting a blush of flour across my cheek, and smelling of odour Le Garlic and Onion. If that was not bad enough, I was then told by Nate and Charlotte, that they ‘hate it, and it’s the worst ever!’ So, having someone else cook for me was a pleasant change, and I was lapping it up. I did however, regardless of their dislike of my cooking, miss my ratbags immensely and were dying to hear their voices.
I glanced up to see that Bryce’s cheeky ‘I’m hiding something’ look had returned yet again. “Okay, tell me what the fuck is so amusing?” I viciously forked a strawberry and shoved it into my mouth. “Or I will take back your permission to kiss me.” He stopped chewing, put his fork down, and stared at me wildly.
“Is that a threat, Ms. Summers?” Sure is bucko!
“It’s a promise, Mr. Clark,” I mumbled, as I murdered the strawberry between my teeth. His eyes were now literally burning me, and I could feel his radiant heat. He forcefully tipped the entire table over and out of his way. I swallowed the deceased berry and nearly choked. Oh shit. I gripped my seat tightly, partly out of shock, and partly because I had to hold onto something. The last time I challenged him, I ended up in the pool.
He kicked his chair backwards, and prowled toward me, his eyes not leaving mine for a second. The way his stare penetrated me was indescribable, and already my breasts and pelvis were vibrating with excitement. He stopped directly in front of me, then leaned down so that his face was now level with my own. He went to kiss me, but stopped only centimetres from my wanting mouth, the pause and extreme close proximity were excruciating. His soft breath was warm against my skin as he moved his head down my neck, I arched back giving him access, but he didn’t touch me. Holy shit, this is hot. He moved back up to my mouth, again coming as close as possible without making any contact, then shifting to my ear, and hovering over it, he breathed and whispered.
“You were saying?” Nothing, absolutely nothing, do not listen to me.
I moaned very lightly, and that was enough for him to caress my mouth. His lips were warm and tasted ever so slightly of blueberries. I gently licked them and savoured the taste. Mmmmm, he tastes so good. We deepened our kiss, but kept it very controlled and sensual, it was simply wonderful. Suddenly, he broke away and stood up. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Ms Summers.” Grrrrrrr, he is winning too many of these challenges!
“I hate you,” I said sulkily as I recovered from his spellbinding tease.
“No, you don’t.” He sniggered back at me as he walked away. No, I don’t.
***
Bryce began cleaning up the tipped over table and leftovers from breakfast, and watched me as I walked up the stairs. He still wore a secretive and mischievous smile, so I poked out my tongue and followed with a rather loud raspberry in response to his annoying expression. This only seemed to add to his already private joke, so I glared at him then disappeared to his room to freshen up after our marathon of fuckery.
As I
entered his bathroom, the reflection in his mirror stopped me in my tracks, finally revealing what his bloody secret was. Are you kidding me? Oh very funny, Mr. Clark. Stuck in various spots amongst my hair were approximately five rose petals. I looked like a freaking human bird’s nest. I couldn’t help but let out a little squawk, the joke was already on me, so why not? Cheeky bastard. Alexis Summers does not forget things very easily. As I plucked the petals from my hair, ideas of revenge started floating around in my head. I stepped into the shower and ran through them. Right, the good old fashioned hug him and stick a note to his back! Or, kiss him on the cheek with a bright red lipstick. Unfortunately, none of these satisfied my building urge for retribution. Patience, Alexis. Was it not Mr Hotpants Clark that said ‘Good things come to those who wait?’ Well wait I shall.
***
It was Tuesday morning and technically a work day, so I made my way to the walk in stadium. Yes, stadium! I still cannot get over how big his closet actually is. I found it quite overwhelming standing in this enormous space staring at the numerous high-end fashion choices. I think the fact there were so many items to choose from actually made it much more difficult to make a decision. I did, however, make a decision; finally deciding on the Versace square-neck lace dress. I picked this one because I knew he would like it, a lot. It was tight—very tight—clinging snuggly to my breasts, and with the assistance of my Aubade push-up bra, made them look about ten years younger. Ha, check these puppies out! Not bad...this will teach him. The dress was predominantly an ivory colour with black laced chiffon over the top. It had long sleeves, and the hemline rested just above my knee. I completed the revenge outfit with a pair of black patent, Jimmy Choo Mary Janes, then I blow dried my hair, and applied the very minimal makeup I was now used to wearing. I assessed my vengeful attire in the mirror. Alexis you are getting quite good at this.
I reached for my phone. The clock read 10a.m. already. Lucky you sleep with the boss, or you’d be fired! There were also five missed calls and two text messages from Rick.
Message 1 -
Babe, I’m sorry. It’s not what you think, really it isn’t.
You never gave me the chance to explain myself.
Please call me back, Rick
Message 2 -
Alexis, obviously you need time and don’t want to talk.
I respect that, take the time.
But by the end of the week,
if you have not returned my call or messaged me
I will track you down.
By the way, you looked stunning on TV last night, and I miss you xo
It’s not what I think? What am I supposed to think then? You accidently tripped over, and your dick just happened to land inside of Claire? I closed the messages. I was beyond hurt, now I was mad. How dare he try and defend himself and brush it off as though it was nothing, our twelve years of marriage was now flushed down the toilet. The worst thing about it though, wasn’t that he’d been tempted to cheat—I knew how that felt. It was the fact he had lied to me for so long about it, he had kept it a secret for five friggin’ years.
Claire was the daughter of my parent’s friends and was 27 at the time. I had helped her get the receptionist position at Melbourne Mortgages as a favour to her parents. I remembered back to when Rick came home after a late shift with Claire, smelling of Red Door (which I hate by the way). I asked him outright, 'Is something going on between the two of you?' He'd said 'No' and informed me she’d had a fight with her best friend and was upset, so he'd hugged her in the hope she would stop crying. I know he hates crying, so I’d accepted his version of events, but I’d become slightly suspicious at the Christmas party when she seemed to hang off everything he said and did. She only worked there for another month or so after that, and apparently took off backpacking overseas—I hadn’t heard or asked about her since. I hope she is stuck in the fucking Sahara Desert somewhere and being spat on by a camel. I shivered all over and physically tried to shake the memories of her out of my head. Right don’t think about it, Alexis. Deal with it at the end of the week.
Whom I did have to deal with right now was my mother, Maryann Blaxlo. Mum was not a stupid woman. In fact, she was as sharp as they come, and I had no doubt she knew something was not right, not only from my televised appearance the night before, but by Rick’s and the kids’ moods. The good thing about Mum was she didn’t stubbornly force you to pour your heart out if you didn’t want to, and she never judged. I sat on the edge of the bed and hesitantly dialled Mum and Dad’s phone number.
“Hello, Alexis Elizabeth.” Yep, she knows something. Typical mother tactic of saying your full name.
“Hi, Mum. I’m just checking in on the kids. Are they around?”
“Nate is on the tractor with your father, and Charlotte is helping me with the herb garden. So Alexis, how was the Tel V Awards? That was quite some honour being named best dressed.” What? Holy shit. Cool, or was it? God I hope I’m not being splashed all over Sunrise and The Morning Show right now. Crap!
“Really!? I didn’t know that! Yes, that is an honour. It was a stunning dress, Mum” Change the subject, Alexis. “Mum I really can’t be long. Can I speak to Charlotte, please?” She murmured something and handed Charli the phone.
“Hi, Mummy. I saw you and Mr. Clark on TV. You looked beautiful...like a famous person.” Lol, silly little rabbit.
“Thank you, darling. It was a very pretty dress, wasn’t it? Hey, guess what, Charli Bear? Guess who I met?”
“Who? 4life? Who Mum?” If she was this excited at the sheer mention of me possibly meeting her favourite band, she was going to hyperventilate when she found out what Bryce had arranged for her the night before; her face would be priceless.
“No sweetie not 4Life. Sierra Thomas. She signed a napkin for you and took a picture with me!”
“Really? Awww sick Mum!” Sick? Oh no. Not you too, Charli Bear.
“I’ll give it to you when I see you on the weekend, okay?”
“Cool! Do you want to speak to Nanny again?” No, not really.
“Yeah, put her on sweetheart. Love you. Bye.” Charlotte handed the phone back to Mum. There was silence on the other end at first, and I knew she was waiting for me to share some more information.
“Mum.”
“Yes, Alexis?” Really? I’m no longer a minor, lose the patronizing tone.
“Rick and I are taking some time apart. I don’t want to get into it with you over the phone, I will explain on the weekend when I come and get the kids. I just want you to know I’m fine, and I’m staying at work. I have my mobile if you need me for anything at all.” I waited for her response, which did not come straight away.
“Alexis, love, just take care of yourself and know the kids are fine and happy and that we love you.” Tears began to build in my eyes. No, Alexis, panda-eyes are not welcome here.
“Thanks Mum, I love you too. Can you tell Nate to ring me later before he goes to sleep, please?”
“Of course, darling.”
“Okay. Bye.” I sat there staring at the phone for a few seconds. I loved my children and felt terribly guilty—guilty, because I was away from them at this particular moment—and guilty, because I was here having the most wonderful time with a man who was not their father. Alexis, you are entitled to a break from your children once in a while. They are in good hands, and they love spending time at the farm. They did love it, Nate had even said to me once that he was moving out to live on the farm and help Dad, and that I could visit him whenever I wanted. I remember laughing at him, but the then 4-year-old-eyes looking back at me were very serious. I explained that he could move out when he was 18, but until then I owned him outright and he had to stay put. I giggled to myself at the memory when I felt the bed move, and found Bryce was standing at the end of it. I hadn’t heard or seen him come in. He walked over and helped me up, then wiped the few tears that had stopped on my cheeks. He kissed me softly, and cupped my face.
“It’s going to be all right,
my love. I promise. We were meant to be together, and that’s all that matters in the end.” I wanted to believe him, more than anything, but it’s never ‘all that matters in the end’. It’s never that simple.
CHAPTER TWO
Bryce gave me a soft smile, infecting me with his enthusiasm. Maybe always being optimistic was the key to his success? Unfortunately, optimism was easier said than done in my case. He gently cupped my face and kissed me.
“Now, no more crying Hunny, you are far too beautiful to be drowned in tears.”
“I’m fine Bryce, really I’m fine. I’m just worried about the kids. That’s all. Thankfully though, they’re at the farm which one of their favourite places in the world.”
“What’s their other favourite place?” he asked curiously.
“McDonalds,” I replied. He laughed, kissed me on the forehead, then stood back and inspected my payback outfit. He ran his hand through his hair, and of course now, I knew my plot was beginning to have its effect. “You, Mr. Clark are in big trouble!”
“Why?” He scoffed at me, as his private-joke face returned.
“So you like the whole bird’s nest look, ay?”
He started laughing. “You can pull off any look, Hunny.” You’ll be pulling off after my next move, Mr. Smartarse.
I raised my eyebrow at him. “It’s fine, have your little joke. I’ll remember this.” I turned around, bent over, and placed both my hands on the bed in an over exaggerated stretch for my handbag; making sure I took my sweet time to retrieve it. “I will see you shortly. I have work to do.” I took hold of my bag, stood back up, and cat-walked toward the door.
“Ms Summers, you do realise you have the day off?” No, do I?
Satisfaction (The Temptation Series #2) Page 2