We socialized a lot, too, though we were trying to cut back on the number of galas and premiers Blake got invited to. Yes, we ran into his former hook-ups more times than we wished, but I was quickly gaining self-confidence as Mrs. Blake Burns. We even ran into Kitty-Kat, who gave me predatory stares but stayed far away from us, knowing what I damn well could and would do to her. I kept her phone with the Fuck the Bitch footage in a safety deposit box. And had a spare copy.
We went out often with Gloria and Jaime. And sometimes along with their adorable twins who were now walking and talking. It was so cute the way they called us Jen-Jen and Bwake. Blake and I talked a lot about having kids of our own though we both knew that journey was not going to be a typical or easy one.
We also socialized quite frequently with Blake’s sister Marcy and her twins. She’d saved my life and I was forever beholden to her. The little monsters were not monsters at all—just two rambunctious little boys who enjoyed watching cartoons and playing board games as much as I did; they loved SpongeBob, but still couldn’t beat me at Junior Scrabble. To my utter delight, Blake had grown much closer to his sister and his nephews, and we were both there for her when she had to contend with her ex. The wedding present she had promised us was beyond our belief. No price tag could be put on it.
I was still attending my weekly support group for rape victims. Blake’s wonderful mom was organizing a benefit in the Fall that would raise a ton of money and help us expand our reach out program as well as move to safer headquarters. Jeffrey, her new event planner, was overseeing it. That was one gala Blake and I wouldn’t miss.
And once a week, I got together with my best friend Libby for a girls’ night out. She’d flown to France and broken up with her longtime boyfriend Everett. Though saddened, she was handling it pretty well. Blake had a friend he wanted to fix her up with, but right now, she just wanted to be single and concentrate on her career.
The only people I missed seeing regularly were my parents. They’d come to visit me one more time while I was recuperating from my surgery, but once I’d fully recovered, we Skyped and then they embarked on their dream trip—sailing to Europe on the Queen Mary. They e-mailed me daily and sent me many postcards from their month-long travels abroad. Dad’s leg had completely healed, and they were having the time of their lives. I couldn’t be happier for them. I told Blake that if our schedules allowed, I wanted us to visit them in Boise sometime in the summer.
Work was amazing; I loved my job. My block of telenovelas based on bestselling erotic romances was a huge success; the ratings had gone through the roof—skyrocketed—and had even exceeded analysts’ expectations. At the May Upfront in New York, Blake and I announced that MY-SIN TV was being spun off into a 24/7 cable channel. The audience of advertisers and affiliates exploded with excitement. In addition to airing more telenovelas, we were expanding the block with reality programming and talk shows targeted at women. Leading it off in the morning was one of the programs I’d proudly developed. Rather than telling the audience about it, Blake and I had decided to give them a sneak peek. The curtain rose behind us, and there was Grandma and her erotic book club heatedly arguing about who was the sexiest book boyfriend—among them, Christian Grey, Jesse Ward, and Lucien Knight. “Oy! That Lucien!” quipped Grandma. “Trust me, any Viking shmiking who can get his shmekel up in the vinter in Norvay is every vomen’s vet dream.” The audience burst into laughter. And so did Blake and I. He squeezed my hand, and then when the lights went dark, he kissed me. There was no doubt in my mind that Grandma’s new show, The Sexy Shmexy Book Club, was going to be a big hit. And at the young age of eighty-six, she was going to be a huge star.
One Saturday morning in July after a delicious wake-up fuck, Blake told me to start packing my bags.
“Are we going away for the weekend?” I asked him, seated cross-legged on our bed and still bared to him. He was always still full of surprises.
“No.” A wicked smile curled on his kissable lips.
I shot him a puzzled look. I could tell from the expression on his face he was up to something. “Can you, at least, give me a hint?”
He affectionately tugged my ponytail. “Does the word ‘honeymoon’ mean anything to you?”
Oh my God! My heart skipped a beat. We’d never taken one. The secret destination he’d teased me with had never materialized after my surgery. Work had gotten in the way. Excitement mixed with panic.
“But, Blake, I haven’t cleared my schedule. I’ve got so much going on.”
“Don’t worry. Mrs. Cho and I took care of it. We canceled most of your meetings, and whatever there’s left to do, Myles and Mrs. Cho can handle.”
My heart began to race with excitement. “Blake, where are we going?”
He winked. “Not telling. It’s still a surprise.”
All I knew it was somewhere neither of us had ever been. My mind spun with possibilities.
“What should I bring along?”
He smirked. “Except for your passport, as little as possible. You won’t be needing much.”
A rush of hot tingles clustered between my legs. My eyes widened. Now, he really had me curious and excited.
“When are we leaving?”
“At noon. On my dad’s private plane.”
“Oh my God!” Teetering between elation and panic (the former winning), I flung my arms around him and kissed him fiercely. Our tongues danced passionately together.
He playfully tweaked my nipples and then slid a hand across my still heated wet cleft.
“Now, baby, I’m going to show you some of the activities our destination has to offer.”
In a short hot breath, he was again fucking me senseless. I was so looking forward to our trip.
Chapter 25
Blake
We’d been two hours in the air, and it was time for my first surprise. To keep the surprise a surprise, I’d forced Jen to wear a blindfold. She’d reluctantly gone along with my demand.
“Blake, it feels like we’re descending. Are we landing?”
I wished she could see my fiendish grin. “We have to make a little stop.” Just wait.
“Why can’t I take this blindfold off? I want to see where we are. Mexico?”
Impulsively, the little sneak reached for her face. I grabbed both her petite hands by their wrists in my large one.
“Uh, uh, uh, tiger. You’re forcing me to do something I wasn’t sure I wanted to do, but now I have to.”
She turned her head toward me, her little scrunched up nose peeking out from the blindfold. Fuck, she was cute.
“Like what, Blake?”
Without saying a word, I dug my free hand into the seat pocket where I’d stored my backup accessory. Then, in one smooth move, I pinned her hands behind her and snapped the metal devices around her slender wrists. The clink was like music to my ears.
“Blake! You’ve handcuffed me.” She futilely tried to tear her hands apart, stretching the chain to its maximum pull. I stifled laughter.
“Baby, if you don’t behave, I’ve got some ropes close by to bind those defiant little hands.”
She grunted in frustration. I was enjoying every minute, and she was turning me on. While the plane descended, something ascended. It was time for Jen to make a little visit to my cockpit.
Writhing, she continued to tug at the cuffs to no avail. She let out a loud sigh. “Okay, Blake, if you promise to take these off me, I’ll do anything you want.”
Jeez. She was making it so easy peasy. With swiftness, I zipped down my fly. Out sprung big ole Mr. Burns, who was thoroughly enjoying the ride. I think by the expression on her face she knew what I wanted.
“Deal. Go down on me, tiger.” Before she could utter a word, I shoved her head to my cock. In a heartbeat, her warm mouth was covering my wide crown.
“Suck on me, tiger. Suck on me hard. I want to come hard and fast.” She nodded as I urged her mouth to descend, pressing on her scalp with the palm of my hand. She didn’t need an
y more flight instruction from me; my tiger knew exactly what to do. Exactly how I liked it. I hissed and arched my spine as she slid her mouth down my rigid shaft, her tongue blazing a trail. My head pressed hard again the headrest. Holy shit. She was taking me to the hilt.
“Jesus, baby. That feels so fucking good.” I could feel my mega-sized dick fill the hollows of her cheeks and the tip touch the base of her throat. Without prompting, she quickly returned to the crown, and then began bopping her head up and down my enormous erection with the ferocity and velocity of the tiger she was. My greedy cocky couldn’t be happier. My balls were tightening and heat coiled through my groin. Just as the plane touched down, I came with a massive explosion of hot cum in her mouth. I yanked up her head by her ponytail and crashed my lips onto hers, rewarding her with a fierce, savage kiss. She moaned into my mouth as I tasted myself on her tongue.
“Baby, we’ve landed,” I breathed, breaking the kiss. Holy fuck. What a landing! My cock was still flying high.
She ran the tip of her talented tongue around her lush lips, licking off the remains of my release.
“Blake. Ahem. The handcuffs…”
“Right.” I lived by my father’s words: a deal is a deal. Except there was one little problem. I couldn’t find the fucking key.
Shitballs. This wasn’t part of the plan. It was time for our next activity and this was so not going to look good.
Chapter 26
Jennifer
Blake was not a happy camper nor was I. He was driving like a maniac. A Chevy pickup no less. He’d asked Mrs. Cho to have someone pick us up when we landed, but somehow that had gotten lost in translation and instead she’d rented him a pickup truck. As mad as I was at him, I’d do anything to see my metrosexual hubby behind the wheel of this vehicle. That man in a pickup was like Batman in an RV.
“We need to find a Walmart,” he grumbled.
“Why?” I gritted. I was still blindfolded and handcuffed, and I had no clue where we were except I knew it wasn’t some romantic island. I waited impatiently for his response.
“So, I can buy a chainsaw and saw off your handcuffs.”
Gah! The thought of Blake with a chainsaw sent a shiver down my spine. My life could be over. Mr. Born with a Silver Spoon in his Mouth was not exactly what I’d call handy. The only power tools he had any experience with were his tongue, his hands, and his cock.
“What about a locksmith?” My voice was urgent. “I’m sure one could make a key to unlock these damn things.”
“That’s a good idea, tiger.”
“Why don’t you take off my blindfold so I can keep my eyes peeled for one? And where the hell are we anyway?”
“That’s not happening. And I’m not telling.”
Two minutes later, Blake swerved off the road with a screech. My neck jerked painfully. I think I had whiplash. Horns were blasting at us from all directions.
“What the fuck are you doing, Blake? You’re going to get us killed!”
“There’s a Walmart straight ahead of us,” he replied brightly.
Ten minutes later, Blake was leading me through the bustling mega-store. He had his fingers curled around my neck since holding one of my pinned back, cuffed hands was not an option. I could barely move my fingers. The fucking handcuffs were cutting off my circulation. Oh, was he going to pay for this. Big time!
I could only imagine what people thought as I stumbled through the store, trying to keep up with Blake’s pace. Maybe they thought he was a bounty hunter who’d captured his prey. Or an undercover cop who was carting away a shoplifter. Well, at least with the blindfold, I couldn’t see their bewildered expressions.
“Slow down,” I yelled.
Without slowing down, Blake asked, “Where do you think we can find a locksmith? I’ve never been to a Walmart before.”
Of course not. Mr. Beverly Hills had lived a life of privilege. The only department store he’d ever stepped foot in besides Saks was Neiman Marcus. Needless Markup as Libby and I often called it.
“The hardware department,” I seethed.
“This store is so fucking big. That could be a mile away.”
“Ask. Some. One.”
Twenty long minutes later, because everyone Blake asked gave us different directions, we were back outside in the parking lot where a locksmith was stationed.
“Can you make us a key that will unlock these cuffs?” Blake asked him.
Standing with my back to the locksmith, I felt him take my hands in his and examine the cuffs.
“Sure, but it’s going to take two hours.”
Blake’s voice grew louder by an octave and desperate. “What! We have to be somewhere important in a half hour.”
Where the heck were we going? I was more curious than ever.
Blake continued. “Do you have a Plan B? I don’t care what it fucking costs.”
The locksmith stretched my hands apart as far as they would go. He then splayed them on the counter. “Keep your fingers spread and don’t move an inch.”
BANG! My heart hammered. BANG again! Suddenly, my hands were free from one another. I massaged my wrists, not happy the cuffs were still circling them.
“Blake, how are we going to get these off?”
“We’ll figure it out later. For now, think of them as jewelry.”
Jewelry, my ass.
“How much do I owe you?” Blake asked my liberator.
“Forget it. It’s on the house. Just tell me, was the sex good?”
“Yeah. It was fucking amazing.”
Grimacing, I let Blake whisk me away. “How could you say that?”
“Lighten up, baby. You know you loved it.”
Damn it, he was right.
We were back in the Chevy. I wasn’t talking to Blake. Fuming, I kept my cuffed hands folded tightly across my chest. I’d had enough of this ruse. Blake’s shenanigans. A short fifteen minutes later, we turned off the freeway and began winding down some city streets. At what must be a red light, I finally broke my silence.
“Now, where are we going?”
“You’ll see in five minutes.”
Sure enough, five minutes later Blake parked the truck and helped me out of it.
“Watch your step.” His arm around my shoulders, he ushered me up the curb.
“Can’t I take this damn blindfold off?” I asked, inhaling the intoxicating scent of roses and honeysuckle evocative of my childhood. Maybe he was taking me to some romantic garden. Several unsteady steps later, I found myself crossing a threshold. A mélange of delectable aromas instantly wafted up my nose.
“Blake, where are we?” In a quick heartbeat, the blindfold slipped off, and in a stunned blink, I knew. I was home!
“SURPRISE!” shouted out the people nearest and dearest to me, all dressed in Sunday finery. My parents, Blake’s parents, Gloria and Jaime Zander with their twins, Libby, Marcy and her twins, Vera and Steve Nichols and their son Joshua, Mrs. Cho and her family, my therapist, Dr. Williams, and, last but not least, Grandma with Luigi the tailor. Also gathered in the hallway were Father Murphy and some of my parents’ closest friends. The people I’d grown up with. My jaw dropped to the floor. I was simply aghast.
“Blake, is this some kind of surprise party? My birthday’s not till October.”
He smacked a kiss on my cheek “No, baby. It’s a surprise wedding.”
A wedding? “But—”
My mother, looking positively stunning in a damask silk suit that matched the color of her gray-blue eyes, broke out of the crowd and gave me hug before I could say another word.
“Come on, honey. Let’s get you ready.”
“But, Mom, I have nothing appropriate to wear.”
Beaming, she took my hand. “Excuse us, everyone. But the mother of the bride has to get her little girl ready.” I shot a glance at my handsome, smiling father who winked back at me. Then, I let Mom lead me to the stairwell with my head turned, my eyes never losing contact with Blake’s. A cocky, triumphant smi
le lit his face. Oh, my Blake! That man who never stopped surprising me. His love filled the room.
A few breathless moments later, I stepped foot into my bedroom. And yet another shocking surprise.
Chaz! “Darling, just say yes to the dress.”
He was holding up the most beautiful gown I’d ever seen. I gasped, clapping a hand to my wide-open mouth.
“Do you like it, Jenny-Poo?”
“Oh my God, Chaz. It’s gorgeous.” Tears were brimming in my eyes as I beheld his breathtaking creation. It was the dress I’d always dreamed of. A sleeveless, ivory confection with layers of tulle and lace, tiny scattered pearls, and a sweetheart neckline. I knew in my heart every stitch was made with love. Oh, my sweet Chaz!
I broke away from my mom and ran up to hug him. Tears were now free-falling down my face.
“Darling, you’re going to crush the dress. Come on, let’s get you dressed.”
To my utter delight, my best friend Libby joined us, and a half hour later, the magnificent dress cinched my narrow waist and grazed the carpeted floor. It fit me to a tee. Beneath the gown, I was wearing delicate lace lingerie and thigh-high silk stockings from Paris. All courtesy of Gloria. And a pair of ivory satin heels with sparkly snowflake shoe clips, courtesy of Libby.
“Mom, was this your idea?” I asked as she and Libby fluffed the dress.
“No, my darling. It was all Blake’s.”
My heart melted.
“I just helped him orchestrate it. And I must tell you, dear, his mother was a saint and helped so much. She’s an amazing woman.”
I smiled. I was so happy Helen and Mom were bonding. That was important to me. And since the Hollywood wedding debacle, she’d grown closer to me and relinquished control over Blake’s social life. I had a lot to learn from her.
THAT MAN: The Wedding Story Page 24