The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] (62 page)

Subject: Yo Ho!

See what I did there? You’re like a pirate on an island, AND a fucked-silly whore. You are, right? I hate you. Hope you’re having fun!

Stacey xx

Subject: I’m drunk

And you’re a whore on an island. Love you bitch.

Stacey xx

Subject: Missing you

The only thing I’ve accomplished today is using my boobs to make a waterfall in the shower…and you’re probably fucking under one. Love you, but hate you too.

Green-eyed Stacey (no kisses, bitch)

“
What’s so funny,” Alex makes his way into the room. “I could hear you from outside.”

“I’m reading Stacey’s texts. She’s nuts.”

“Oh yeah? What is your feisty friend saying to incite such blithesome laughter?” he joins me on the end of the bed, lifting my crossed-legged knee to shift me closer.

“She’s insinuating we’re having a lot of sex,” I purse my lips.

The incredibly slow, devilish pull of his smirk is his only response - no words required, as just how much sex we’ve actually had catapults through my psyche.

“Wow, we’ve had a lot sex,” I admit, cataloguing our sex-capades.

“We have ten more minutes,” he looks playfully at his watch.

Laughing, I shove his shoulder, his boyish smile returning to take my breath away.

“Aby, I’ve had you alone on an island, are you so surprised?”

“Well, no, I guess you’re right about that. But now that I think about it, we have a lot of sex
all
the time. We’re like, super-sexed.”

His head tilts back on a delightful chuckle, and I can’t help but stare adoringly at the brilliance of it.

“Ummm, were you super-sexed
before
you met me?” I ask, his former fuck buddy, Whore-a-the-Explorer, flashing through my mind.

Laughter roars from deep in his chest, before he turns his amused gaze to me. “So, now that know you’ve ascertained an approximation of how many women I’ve
been
with, you’d like a frequency report?” he laughs.

I cringe remembering that incredibly uncomfortable conversation that really wasn’t meant to come out the way that it did.

“I told you that day, Aby. I’m insatiable for
you
. I’ve never felt this need, this pull. It’s you. It will always be you.”

His words touch me, their purity washing away the naughty tainting of our love for each other. “Well, you’ve certainly put a spell on me, Mr. Tate. This is new for me, too.”
Clearly
.
Like
that
needed to be said out loud.

Smiling, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling, he swipes my hair behind my ear in a loving gesture. “I’m going to gather the luggage, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” I manage, still awestruck by his words, watching him walk out of the room.

Grabbing my cell, I reply to Stacey:

Subject: Leaving paradise

Trip cut short. We’re heading home. And yes…EPIC SEX. You can hate me later. ;)

Aby xx

HOLY HELL
, FLASHES blind me as we exit the arrivals gate. This is it. The ultimate test of composure - the
world-renowned
vultures of LAX.

“Just stay with me, baby,” Alex reassures me with a smile.

Comments and questions come at us from every direction as we walk, Alex handling those he can, with gentlemanly finesse. He’s amazing. Patient, warm, kind. I, however, feel like a fish out of water. I need a distraction…
cell phone.
Brilliant
. Pulling it from my purse, I turn it on, a fake smile plastered across my face despite inwardly cursing at how long it’s taking.
Mother fucker, turn on!
Jeez, finally.
Scrolling through, I’m desperate to immerse myself in something,
anything
, yet the only thing I find is the unread message from Mom.
Fuck it, I’ll take it.

Subject:

Just wanted you to know that I’m thinking of my beautiful, brave girl. I realize my actions don’t always express how much I love you. But I try. And I’m more proud of you than you know.

Love Mom

I’m stunned.
Oh my God, Mom.
I have no idea where that came from, but the heartfelt strength it gives me in this moment is beyond words. Feeling confident, I put my cell away, looking up, head held high.

Alex’s gaze catches my eye first, his beaming adoration pulling my questioning smile.

He says nothing, simply smiling in return, taking my hand with a gentle squeeze before looking ahead; another question called from behind a camera, stealing the moment of silence.

“Alexander, what kind of underwear do you wear?”
a reporter asks, walking sideways to keep up, dangling a microphone in Alex’s face like a carrot to a horse.

I stifle a laugh as I catch the look Alex flashes the reporter’s way.

“Not a good question, buddy,” Alex replies on a laugh, following it up with a smile.

“Boxers or briefs?”
he tries again.

“Dude, seriously,” Alex squeezes my hand a little - for his own composure perhaps?

“When does filming start?”
the reporter goes for three as we pass him, reaching the car.

“Tomorrow, in fact,” Alex turns to offer the nuisance a final smile, ushering me into the backseat of the Black Yukon Denali. “Take care, man,” he adds, taking a seat beside me, the driver closing the door behind him.

The incessant camera flashes are insane.
Jesus
, I look around, taking them in from all sides, grateful for the tinted windows inside our semi-private seclusion.

Giving my thigh a squeeze, Alex pulls my gaze, “You handled that beautifully.”

“I was feeling suddenly brave,” I sidle into his side, looking up with a smile, his quirked brow urging me on. “I received a nice text from Mom,” I shrug, trying to pass it off as no big deal, when really I’m still reeling.

He smiles knowingly, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “Are you ready to see the sites of L.A.?”

“Hell, yeah!” I settle into him, excited as we exit the airport, maneuvering onto to the I-405.

Wrapping his arm around me, we settle into comfortable silence and I lean into the warmth of his hold. I can’t believe we’re here. I’ve never been to L.A. before, and I’m almost unable to contain my schoolgirl excitement - the only thing reining it in at this moment being the spell of Alex.

“As much as I enjoyed our island retreat,” Alex jars me from our tranquil moment, “…I’m immensely looking forward to showing you our home.”

His words hit deep.
Our home.
The thought sends butterflies through my tummy, anticipation setting in as we exit the freeway, my excitement unleashed.

“Sunset Boulevard,” he nods out the window and I lean over him like giddy child.

Stopping at a set of lights, I watch wide-eyed as a Michael Jackson impersonator puts on a free show from the sidewalk. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he was the real deal. Passing another block, I spy a scantily clad woman - or man, who knows - lingering at the curb. It’s terrible, but I have to ask, “Will we see hookers? Cause, I think I just saw one.”

The deep baritone of his laugh sings down my spine.

“
Hello
?
Pretty Woman
…Hollywood Boulevard?” I explain.

“We’re on Sunset Boulevard, sweetheart,” he smiles, still laughing.

“So? What? They only congregate on Hollywood Boulevard, not Sunset Boulevard?”

“Do you
really
want to know if I know that answer?”

My mouth hits the floor before his smirk gives him away. “Jerk,” I slap his chest playfully. “So not funny.”

He laughs and I ignore him to continue perusing out all windows, taking in as much as I can. “There’s so much I want to see.”

“We have tons of time, baby,” he grins, beaming exuberance.

“I want to see Rodeo Drive, that Chinese theatre place with everyone’s foot prints, the walk of fame…Malibu, Beverly Hills. Oh! And I
really
want to see that dude walking up the sidewalk chanting, ‘What’s your dream? Everybody’s got a dream’.” I catch his peaked brow and shrug, “
Pretty Woman
.”

“You’re adorable, Miss Ryan,” he laughs. “I’m not sure we’ll manage to see
all
of that this evening.” His saucy smirk pulls my stink eye.

“Okay, then I only have one request tonight. It’s the biggest of all, the most important.
Iconic
, is what it is,” I whisper the latter dramatically, nodding with the accuracy of my statement. “The Hollywood Sign.”

“That, we can manage, sweetheart,” he pulls me in for a chaste kiss.

I’m enthralled with the scenery; images I’ve seen before, though only in movies. We sit in comfortable silence for a while and I lean back into the warmth of his hold.

“Doug, why don’t we take Laurel Canyon to Mulholland Drive for my girl.”

“GOOD MORNING, HANDSOME,” I manage, pausing for a drool-worthy moment at the entrance to our bedroom.
Our bedroom
. A week in L.A. and it still hasn’t set in.

Having found Alex tugging a t-shirt over his head, I’m in a familiar state of rapid-fire adrenaline that instantly kick-starts my kegels at the sight, his glorious chest and rippling abdominal muscles shielded too quickly as he pulls it into place.
Damn.

I’ve been awake for a couple of hours, enjoying the sun on the deck while I let Alex sleep. He was so tired last night when he returned home, these long days filming clearly taking its toil, I simply couldn’t bring myself to wake him up.

“Did you sleep well?” I ask, folding into his arms for a hug, attempting to hide my pout at the end of the delicious show I’d walked in on.

“I did, thank you,” he lifts my chin to his gaze. “However, I would have much preferred waking up with you beside me.”

“Oh,” I release the word on a breathless whisper. This man never ceases to take my breath away with the way he looks at me. “Well, I’ve been up for ages, I didn’t want to wake you. You needed your beauty sleep, Mr. Hot Stuff.”

“Is that right?”

“Uh huh,” I reply cheekily. “Sadly, though, it seems I waited too long to check on you - it’s such a shame I missed the show,” I playfully tug at his shirt, pulling out of his light embrace. Walking around him, I teasingly smack his bottom, placing the book I’d been reading down on the dresser.

On a growl, he turns towards me, taking gentle hold of my arms to walk me backwards. “Well, if the lady wants a show,” he whispers in my ear, sending goose bumps along my flesh, “…I’m all for a repeat performance.”

“Is
that
right?” I ask breathlessly amid backward steps, purposely mimicking his earlier question. I’m already lost in a haze of lust at his words alone, the mere thought of him touching me, coming inside me, has me panting as I curl my fingers around his muscular biceps.

“Yes, that’s right. Are you ready, baby? Do you have any idea what I plan on doing to you?”

Oh God
. I’m putty in his hands, a complete ball of yearning just waiting to be taken, devoured. I moan as his words invade my psyche, the lascivious thoughts now floating through my mind creating a whirlwind sensation of desire cascading through my system.

I falter slightly as the backs of my knees hit the ottoman, before Alex assists in setting me down into the adjoined chair, running his fingers along my bare legs, spreading them wide.

“Don’t move,” he whispers huskily. “Stay right where you are.”

Wetness pools between my spread legs at the sheer cadence of his voice, his sexy command; my jean shorts feeling slightly constricting in my need to simply get naked and have my wicked way with him.

Sprawled in the seat, my feet flat on the floor on either side, I watch, transfixed as he saunters slowly backwards, his eyes taking me in, consuming me with each step.

His gaze sears me; devouring my eyes, lips, breasts, before landing on the apex of my thighs. My nipples pebble and my sex throbs under his blatant stare, my need overwhelming me.

“Alex…” I plead breathlessly, moving to sit up, wanting him to return.

“I told you not to move, Aby,” he reminds me in that authoritative tone I love so much…the alter ego of the gentleman I love so much.

Obediently, I sit back to rest against the cushion, giving in to his dominance not because I have to, but because I want to. I love when he tells me what he wants. When he directs me with his commanding, seductive words, enticing me with a provocative warning of what is to come. My body falls under his sexy spell, hungry for him to take me to orgasmic bliss. Simply knowing that the latter is a foregone conclusion once he unleashes this side of himself is my undoing, and I offer no argument in submitting to his bidding.