The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] (18 page)

Read The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] Online

Authors: C.J. Wells

Tags: #Perfect Plans and Take a Bow

“WOW. THAT WAS pretty crazy,” I mutter in bewilderment as the taxi pulls away. My eyes are still adjusting from the endless flashes of phone cameras, their blinding ability heightened by the darkened sky from ensuing rain.

“Are you ok?” Alex’s voice is laced with concern.

“I will be once I regain my vision,” I laugh, rubbing my eyes dramatically in attempts to ease his mind.

I’m successful; his demeanor shifting, amazingly swiftly, to sexy playfulness, “Now there’s an inviting idea, your chocolate-tasting tongue
and
a blindfold.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” I smile playfully in return.

“Your line? You’ve thought about blindfolding me, Miss Ryan?”

“No . . . the chocolate part,” I begin bashfully, “I was looking forward to . . . ”

“Tasting it on
my
tongue?” he interjects, his tone incredibly sexy.

Wetness pools between my legs, my eyes immediately darting to witness the prying gaze of the driver in the rear-view mirror—though his inquisitive glances have no power in diminishing my sudden hunger for the man beside me. I can taste him already, and it’s driving me wild.

Alex, however, appears the epitome of composure. Though oozing desire, his eyes portray something more. “You handled the crowd very well. Most don’t. The first glimpse of how difficult it can be in the public eye is often very overwhelming.” He searches my eyes. “This is typically the point where most women in my life consider running for the hills.”

“Well, I’m not like most women,” I unconsciously lick my lips, returning his suddenly molten stare.

I’ve wanted him all day, my need for him escalating with each subsequent playful exchange. It takes every ounce of will power I have to not attack him right here in the taxi. A sentiment I suspect he shares, if his heated gaze and heightened breaths are any indication.

We sit, unmoving, staring. Our unspoken mutual desire reflected in our gaze. The sexual tension building for the remainder of the short ride to his flat.

Exiting the cab, he swiftly pulls a bill from his pocket, handing it to the driver, unconcerned of the denomination and clear over-payment. He reaches my door with haste, opening it to take my hand.

Absently, I notice the taxi departing as he pulls me tightly against him. His mouth crashes over mine, his tongue filling me with his taste as he grabs my ass, lifting me with a speed of unrestrained lust.

My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, my arms securing around his neck, the take-out bag dangling from my fingers. I moan into his kiss, entangled in an onslaught of sexual need, barely registering the raindrops slightly soaking our clothing.

Continuing his oral assault, he carries me up the steps to the entrance, leaning me against the door, bearing my weight with ease. The sudden pressure of his hardened erection pushing into me sends a ripple of desire through my body, his publicly unrestrained fervor a clear indication of what’s in store.

He holds me securely amid his incessant devouring kisses, pulling the keys from his pocket to unlock the door before carrying me effortlessly inside, kicking it closed behind him. His heated, labored breaths alluding only to his desire.

Turning towards the front room, he sets me down on my feet, releasing me to pull the bag from my hands, tossing it to the floor. His hands return to my body, sliding upwards along my thighs, my damp sundress bunching in the movement. He grabs it, tugging the hem upwards with a swift jerk. My arms lift in assistance as he peels it off, its cling against my damp skin no match for his eagerness.

Taking a step back, his sapphire eyes penetrate every inch of my partially naked body, searing my skin with his lustful gaze. His hungry stare devours me. Consumes me. I release a breathless moan, my need for him overwhelming me.

My whimper reignites his drive. He quickly lifts me, laying me down gently in the leather chair, my legs spreading against it curvature. Dropping to his knees, he retrieves the bag, placing it on the floor beside him as he flashes a devilish smile.

I stare in wonder at his gorgeous face, wanting, needing; my breaths quickening as I reach for him.

“Care to wager a guess at what I have in store for you?” he halts my reaching hands in his grip, his eyes glowing with mischievous desire.

I shake my head bashfully, biting at my lip in anticipation as I begin conjuring up the many things I’d like to do to
him.

Emitting a sexy laugh, he leans over me suggestively, his hard abdominal muscles pushing against my sex. I’m at his mercy. A sensual feast of burning need on display before him, my desire evident in my breathless whimper at his commanding force. “No guesses?” he questions playfully, staring into my eyes.

“Tell me,” I whisper, glued to his startling blue irises masked with latent longing.

“No ideas?” he continues to tease, removing the pint of frozen yogurt from the bag. Seductively, he removes the lid with his teeth amid his unwavering sensual gaze.

I moan, a breathless escape of desire at his erotic display. “Alex . . . please . . . ” I whimper, my pelvis brushing suggestively against him in my attempts to assuage my aching core.

“I’ll give you what you need, but not before I enjoy my treat,” he smirks, pouring a morsel of the slightly melted chocolate onto my stomach.

I yelp at its coldness on my overheated flesh, its lazy trickle towards my navel perking my skin in its exhilarating trail.

He intoxicates me with a seductive smile before lowering his head slowly, licking the melting yogurt, my stomach shaking and flexing under his devouring lips. He laps every last morsel with precision, reducing me to a shell of absolute need and yearning, my pussy convulsing in its emptiness.

Gliding his lips along my stomach, he grasps the side of my thong harshly, tearing them from my trembling body.

“Alex!” I scream in surprise, more turned on then I’ve ever been.

How does this man do this to me? Turn me completely wanton—ready and willing to do anything he asks of me. Whatever he desires, whatever he needs, I’m his for the taking. I stare, drunk with desire, my legs spread along the contours of the chair for his prying gaze.

His sinfully sexy grin scorches through me as he continues his sensual assault, pouring the cold chocolate tantalizingly at the tip of my pussy.

“Oh my god!” I scream as it drizzles down, sending a spike through my sensitive clit, the combination of cool heat invading my needy flesh.

“Yes, baby. Tell me how good it feels. I’ll tell you how good it tastes,” he murmurs, plunging his mouth onto my sex.

The heated suction of his lips feels out of this world. I can’t withstand my incessant gasps. I moan uncontrollably at his eagerness to swallow me whole as he sucks me, plunging his tongue into my depths. I’m utterly turned on, so unabashedly aroused by his sensual display.

I fall forcefully into climax, a startling scream released as I plummet into ecstasy. My body convulses uncontrollably in his grasp as he licks every remaining chocolate drop mixed with my juices.

With his strong hold of my wrists, he secures my hands above my head as he kneels fully between my widespread legs. His free hand quickly unzips his pants before removing his engorged cock, glistening with pre-cum.

I lick my lips at the sight—my need to taste
him
equally possessive—watching with eager greed as he lines the enlarged head within my moistened folds.

With a forceful thrust, he pushes his cock inside me, my channel yielding to his entry, slick from my orgasm. “God . . . ” he groans, his eyes closed in satisfied delight.

“Yes! Fuck me! Please . . . ” I beg, rocking my pelvis against him, attempting to quicken his leisurely thrusts.

His eyes open at my vulgar request, his hooded gaze intense, direct, masked in absolute abandon. “Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you? I’ll give you whatever you want . . . whatever you need,” he groans, leaning over me slightly, his thrusts quickening.

Over and over he drives into me, my pussy squeezing his member like a tight vise. I scream a steady cry of absolute pleasure, savoring every hard ridge as the crown pushes on my sensitive g-spot.

Releasing my wrists, he secures my hips, gripping me in place for his momentum. My unbound hands grasp his hair, caressing his head at my chest as he moans my name amid his pounding thrusts. The intimacy of our coupling reminiscent of centuries past—the uncontrolled need to mate, to be one.

Gently kissing my breast, he urges me, “Come for me, baby. Come with me . . . ”

“Yes . . . ” I manage, feeling my body tightening. “Oh, God . . . I’m going to come!”

“I’m with you, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispers into my bosom.

My body stiffens and I scream his name through my orgasm, his shudders above me signaling our mutual abandon as his cum jets up inside me.

“ONE FROZEN-YOGURT MILKSHAKE,” Alex places the tall treat in front of me.

“Why thank you,” I take a sip, enticingly licking the residual froth off my upper lip, my seductive display causing his released growl.

I like playing with him. He’s given new meaning to the term
sex play.
Who knew you could do so much with a bit of frozen yogurt?

“So, any new movies in your future?” I ask, attempting to waylay the boomerang of my playfulness with a switch of gears.

Of course, I’m completely intrigued by his career. It seems so daunting and surreal. Particularly with how much free time he’s had of late. I imagine it’s temporary. It would be nice to know exactly how much time I will have him all to myself—or how soon I’ll have to get over my increasing addiction of him, a more apt way of putting it.

“Yes, actually,” he sits down beside me.

Damn. Here we go.
This is where he tells me ‘it’s been fun playing in your little fantasy . . . time for you to go back to the real world.’
Sigh.

Trying to feign as much indifference as I can muster, I fail miserably with a high-pitched, “Oh?”

His laugh suggests he’s amused. “Filming won’t begin for another month at least, preliminary preparations can drag on,” he smiles warmly. “I’m not going anywhere just yet, Aby.”

“Oh. Okay,” I mumble, embarrassed that he can read me so well.

I’m relieved to learn I have him for at least another few weeks. Hopefully. And even then, what will it be like when he leaves to start filming? Surely he’ll forget all about me, crushing my every dream. No doubt I’ll be forced to purchase every damn movie he’s ever been in—this new one included—just to fill the void he’s guaranteed to leave.

Dammit.
I’ve known from the beginning that he would break my heart.

“So, can you talk about it, or is it hush-hush?” I ask, hoping to alleviate the pain of my pending heartbreak. “Any other
hot
actors in the cast,” I wink.

Laughing shyly, he magically heals my fractured spirit. The man could melt a glacier.
“Well, I can tell you it’s another action film. I really enjoy those,” he begins, his demeanor humbling. “It’s a great cast. Tracy Lynn is co-starring, for one.”

The beautiful Tracy Lynn. That’s interesting. I can only assume she’ll play his love interest. The notion gives rise to unpleasant—and irrationally jealous—thoughts, including visuals of Alex’s hands
on
his co-star. Thank God she’s married
.
Although, in Hollywood land, does that even matter? I shudder at the thought.

I understand the job requirements, and the subsequent love interests in said movies, however, it’s more than uncomfortable to actually imagine it. He’s likely going to have kissing scenes with her. Hell, full on sex scenes.
Ugh.
How do they do those anyway? Do they tape everything up?
The whole idea makes me shiver.

“You’ve gone a little quiet, what’s on your mind?”

“Have I?” my inner actress takes over. “I was just imagining all the work that goes into such a production.”

“Were you now?” he flashes a knowing grin, turning to face me, positioning my legs between his. “I want you to feel comfortable enough to communicate what you’re thinking about . . . or worried about,” he continues sweetly.

I’m thinking you’re amazing, and worried you’re too good to be true.
“Maybe I should get back to the hotel,” I glance at my watch to avoid his beautiful gaze. “I have to pack for my checkout in the morning. You can fill me in a little more about the film another time?” I smile.

“Anything you want, any time,” he leans in for a quick kiss. “So, what hotel are you transferring to?”

“The Millgrave Hotel,” I reply, catching my breath.

“You’re joking.”

“No.”

“It’s not happening, Aby.”

“What’s not happening?” I’m completely confused.

“You’re not staying there.”

“Why? Is it bad?”

“Yes, it is. And there’s no way I’m letting you stay there. You’ll stay with me for the week.”

“What?”

“You can stay with me. If that’s okay with you?”

Come again?
He wants me to stay with him? This is crazy. I’m upgrading from thinking this is merely sex, to potentially shacking up with him?

I guess screwing his brains out has had a desired effect
—my inner actress notes snidely, the thought making me feel dirty.

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