The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] (63 page)

“Good girl,” he stops, his gape molten, his irises darkened a deep shade of blue. His fingers move to undo the button of his jeans, pausing slightly, taking in my watchful, wanting gaze as he lowers the zipper. My desire is evident as I stare at him in lustful need, and his sinful smirk tells me he’s very aware of the effect he has on me. “Do you want me, Aby?” he asks, baring a hint of the sexy trail of hair that cascades down beneath his white boxer briefs, the treasure that lies within making my mouth water.

“Ye-es.”

“And, what else do you want?”

I tremble slightly, unable to reply as he removes his jeans, slowly pulling each leg off, discarding them to the side. His manhood tents his boxers, and I whimper with need at the mere sight, the sheer magnitude of this gorgeous specimen.

“Tell me, baby. Do you want me to lick your sweet pussy? Devour your pink flesh with my mouth, my tongue? Do you want me to fill you full with my fingers until you scream?”

“Oh. My. God.” The words plummet from my mouth through my sexual haze, my legs shaking with desire at his flagrant inquisition. I’ve never heard him talk this way. The shock to my system is excitingly delicious.

I can’t keep from biting my lip in anticipation as I watch him grab his t-shirt from behind his neck and pull it off in one fluid motion. The man puts every underwear model in history to shame with his incredible physique.

“Do you want this?” he slowly swipes the length of his erection through his boxers.

I lose all vocal ability, an inaudible mumbled gasp escaping my lips as he pulls at the waistband, releasing his clear desire. It flexes and bobs in its freedom against his stomach before he bends to shed the final piece of clothing.

Moaning in need, I inadvertently bring my hands to my breasts, plumping them in my grip to assuage the incredible ache for his touch, the mounds heavy and full in my palms. I shudder at the sensation as my fingers glide along my hardened nipples.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he predatorily walks towards me in his naked glory, “…I believe I told you not to move.” Resting one knee on the ottoman between my wide spread legs, he grabs my wrists in his hand, holding them above my head. “Do I need to tell you again, sweetheart?” he asks, looking into my eyes. Holding my throat, he leans down to my ear, “Don’t. Fucking. Move.”

My heart slams in my chest at his forcefulness; his aura of sexy dominance careening through my system. My pulse pounds heavy in my throat, my skin prickling with sweat. I’m so utterly insatiable for him. Always insatiable for him.

He makes quick work of undoing my shorts, pulling them down my hips and legs with my lift of eager assistance; my cotton panties soaked through on display for his avid, unwavering gaze. “Mmmm…Always ready for me, aren’t you, baby?” he growls, swiping his finger teasingly, fleetingly, along my core.

My body jolts at the impact, and I whimper at the loss of his touch. “Alex…please,” I beg.

“Please what, baby?” His breath on my earlobe sends a spasm of lustful shudders through every inch of my body, his question filled with enough sexual foreboding to elicit the clenching of my core in anticipation.

“Please, take me now. Please…” my plea is desperate.

“Oh, I will, Aby. I’ll take you. Every part of you. I’ll devour you, cherish you…” his teasing touch mimics his words, his fingers seductively gliding along my curves, his palms swirling against my nipples. He knows that drives me crazy for him. Makes me wild for him.

“Alex, please...fuck me,” my demanding request is but a mere, begging whisper. It’s effect, however, is loud and clear - evident in the swift lock of his gaze on mine. It’s as though I flipped a switch, turned things up a notch, set off the fire sprinklers. The desire dripping from every inch of him is suddenly soaking me.

“Oh, I’ll fuck you, baby. I’ll take you so far, fill you so deep, you’ll still be feeling it when you wake tomorrow,” his confession is as bold as the grip he takes of the end of my flimsy tank top with both hands. Tugging hard, he rips it in half up my torso.

I shriek at the sensation, the sheer enormity of strength in his grasp, before he spreads the cotton material, exposing my bare breasts. His pleasure at the absence of my bra solicits his husky groan as he leans forward, taking a nipple into his mouth.

The bolts of pleasure send instant spikes of need to my clit amid my moaning scream. I want so desperately to run my hands through his hair, along his glorious shoulders, desperate to touch him, feel him. Yet I don’t. I stay exactly as he’s instructed me, commanded me. His order an imaginary tie, binding me, spiking my desire higher to dangle me over the edge. It’s too much. I want to fall…“Ahhh, please!” I beg.

I feel his grin against my breast, his fingers tweaking and pulling at my other nipple, before he leans back on his haunches to stare down at me. Grazing his fingers along my stomach, my muscles rippling and shaking in their wake, he slides teasingly along my inner thighs. “Touch them. Play with your nipples for me.”

Though it’s his body I’m desperate to feel, I immediately obey, plumping my breasts, palming my nipples in a circular motion as though my touch were his own.

His approving smirk is sinfully delicious, leaving me breathless, panting, as I watch his eyes, mesmerized, devouring me all the way down to my core, his gaze hungry with want.

Tugging my panties to the side, he swipes his thumb along my wetness before slowly pushing it inside me, my body tightening and gripping in welcome yearning.

Yes…
I moan, grinding towards his teasing fill, needing more, my body begging without words.

He pulls his thumb out with a devilish snicker, my gaze immediately darting to his knowing simper. “You want me to fuck you, baby?”

“Yes! Please…” I plead, pinching my nipples slightly to assuage the overwhelming ache, closing my eyes against my desperate need. I feel him slide my panties to the side once more, his thrust forceful as he buries himself inside me to the root. “Oh, fuck…Alex!”

“God, Aby”, he groans, leaning down to tantalize my nipple with his tongue. “I love fucking you, baby. You feel so good, so tight, squeezing me, clutching me as though you don’t want to let me go.”

“I don’t ever want to let you go!” I manage through a gasp as he pulls back and fills me once more, my legs wrapping securely around his waist.

Primal in our need for each other, we’re frantic in our touch - tugging, pulling, scratching, and moaning in each other’s arms; the screeching of the seating on the floor beneath us from his deep and heavy thrusts an animalistic auditory aphrodisiac.

He pumps into me repeatedly, deeper and deeper, in long fluid motions. His relentless drives send me careening further and further into sexual abyss, his fingers sliding into the hair at my nape, tugging hard to expose my neck to his devouring lips.

“Fuck, Aby,” he growls, gliding his teeth along my flesh. “Come for me, baby…”

“Ye-es!!” I scream as I fall. My core clenches around him like a vise as I ride the waves of my orgasm before feeling him still above me, groaning in my ear as he fills me.

“Fuck, I love you,” he manages through labored breaths.

“I love you, too,” I reply in my euphoria, momentarily noting that love isn’t a strong enough word.

“FUCKERS!” I CURSE aloud, slamming my laptop closed.
Could the media be any more ridiculous?

I’m not sure what deep-rooted affliction I suffer from, given my incessant need to peruse the Internet in search of any new drivel the media has written about Alex - or
me
, I should say. Each time I find something I get annoyed, promising myself I’ll never look again, only to go searching the next day.
Yup, it’s an affliction, alright.

It’s amazing what the gossips come up with. According to the bullshit write-ups to date, I’ve been pregnant with Alex’s baby; am Alex’s live-in escort/hooker; and a boat load of other completely ridiculous - and might I say, incredibly uncreative - fabrications of the media’s imagination.
Whatever sells magazine I guess
.

I’m not sure why I bother looking. Again, it’s an affliction. I simply can’t help myself. It’s almost addictive. Particularly when I’m bored out of my skull, as I am at the moment. I love my freelance work with Thomas, but it doesn’t take up much of my time - an hour or two a day, maximum. With Alex constantly filming, it leaves me with a
ton
of free time - free time to surf the net and aimlessly pad around the beach house looking for something to entertain myself with.

I’m the type to clean when I’m bored, yet I can’t even do that. Alex insists that we have a cleaner. A cleaner! Maria comes every two days and now avoids me like the plague - my absolute boredom resulting in my following her around, chatting, and trying to help, clearly getting to her after the first week. Unless she really can’t speak English as she initially pointed out.
Humph
. I honestly thought she was pulling my leg.

It’s not like I can hop in my car and go for a jaunt around L.A. - as much as I’d love to. Sadly, I have no car. Not that I necessarily need one. I
could
hop in a cab and boot somewhere for the day, but I’m simply uninspired to take that measure. This beach-like atmosphere day in and day out has me stuck in perpetual vacation mode. It’s funny, I always thought that permanently living on a beach, living the life of luxury, not having to work full-time, if at all, would be heaven. Well, the novelty can wear off pretty quick.

My sole solace, despite my incessant boredom, is Alex. I get to look forward to his arrival at the end of every day. Just the thought of his stunning smile lighting his face when he walks through the door has me now grinning from ear to ear as I make my way down the deck stairs towards the beach, the sand sliding between my bare toes. That quickly, my internal pity party evaporates.

Pulling my cell from my pocket I type Alex a quick message.

Subject: Thinking of you

Hi handsome. Missing you today, as always.

I love you

Aby xx

Smiling, I slide my phone back into my pocket just as the vibration alerts a new message.
Wow, that was fast.

Subject: You never leave my thoughts

Perfect timing, sweetheart. Done for the day. Be there in five. Meet me out front…Have a surprise for you. And I LOVE YOU MORE.

Alex xx

A surprise?
I’m giddy just thinking of what Alex has in store, sprinting towards the deck and into the house, wiping my feet off on the mat. Trudging towards the bedroom, I rush into the master bath to brush my teeth and quickly comb my fingers through my wavy hair.

Who knows what his surprise entails. Maybe he’s going to take me out?
God knows I
really
need to get out
, I think to myself, quickly applying mascara and lip-gloss. Changing into a silver tank top and white maxi skirt, I rummage through the closet for a matching shawl before making my way downstairs. Glancing at my watch, I figure I made it just in time, opening the front door.

Alex is standing on the front step, a wide smile donning his face. “Hello, beautiful,” he pulls me into his arms, placing his luscious full lips on mine, his tongue teasing, begging entry.

I kiss him back with every ounce of joy I feel at his presence, my day’s boredom effectively forgotten as I moan into his kiss.

Chuckling, he pulls back, kissing the tip of my nose. “Happy to see me, I take it,” he teases, running his hands up and down my bare arms.

“Happy might just be the understatement of the day, Mr. Tate. More like elated,” I smile in return, resting my hands against his broad chest, his heat permeating my palms.

“Well, on that note, ready for your surprise?” he asks, eyes twinkling.

“Your presence home early
isn’t
the surprise?” I purposely avoid his playfulness, though I’m exciting about whatever he’s decided to spring on me. Every day with Alex is full of surprises, yet for some reason this time feels different. He gait alone is telling enough, as he flashes me an excited, and oh-so heart stopping smile.

“Not quite, however I’m overjoyed that you would consider me surprise-worthy. Come this way,” he takes my hand, walking us down the path towards the front of the house.

My heart stops in my chest as we round the corner, the gleaming black Land Rover parked in the laneway, peaking my curiosity.
Who owns that?
I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but based on Alex’s M6 BMW parked alongside it, I can wager a guess. “Alex, what…?”

“It’s yours, Aby,” he turns to me, a boyish grin plastered across his face. “I know you’ve been somewhat house-bound these past few weeks, so I thought this might help. A slight relief to your boredom?” he grins. “And now that you have a lay of the land from our drives together, you can manage on your own.”

I’m blown away. Not only because Alex has bought me a car - and not just any car, but a freakin’
Land Rover
- but also because he’s so attune to my recent boredom. I thought I’d hid it so well, not wanting to come across as juvenile. How easily I forget that Alex can read me like a book.

“Alex, I don’t know what to say…you bought me a car? A
Land Rover
? This is crazy,” I manage, my words a breathless release.