The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] (91 page)

THE EVENING HAS been…interesting, to say the least. I’ve had a good time, no question, but I haven’t really seen Alex in ages. As a matter of fact, the last time I spotted him, a couple of leggy blondes were giving new meaning to the party’s theme as they
wrapped
him up in their attention, their eyes devouring him amid flirty giggles. I stayed calm and shot imaginary daggers their way, feeling almost sympathetic towards Alex -
almost
. He handles the unwanted attention so well that I’d be absolutely lying if I said the ugly shame of self-doubt didn’t rear her big, fat head. I’m human. Those two blondes, however…I’m thinking they hail from
Paradise Island
, perhaps. They’re not human
.
They’re Wonder Whores.

It’s not like Alex to leave me to fend for myself for such a lengthy period of time. But I get it. This isn’t like the publicity event, where he dangled me on his arm making the polite rounds. This is a party. A party full of co-stars and film crew celebrating months of hard work. He’s enjoying himself, and he doesn’t need me at his side for every minute of it.

He could be in any one of the many rooms full of guests, all mingling on the first floor of the directors stunning, supersized home. And that’s okay, I’m doing fine on my own. Yes, I
was
slightly star-struck when we first arrived, the mass of celebrities present enough to give anyone heart palpitations, but it faded quickly. They’re all just ‘regular’ people enjoying a night of ‘normal’ fun.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Aby?” Tracy Lynn, Alex’s love interest in the film, jars me from my avid searching through the crowd.

“Ummm, I am, thank you,” I smile. “Have you seen Alex?”

“I think he’s…” she quickly scans the room, trying to place where she saw him last. “Oh, no, he’s not there anymore. He’s a popular man,” she nudges me. “The
star
and all,” she winks playfully, her striking espresso brown eyes glistening. She truly is a beautiful woman, and I secretly simper at the thought of Alex having to kiss her, even if it was only make-believe. But she’s simply too nice to fake-hate for swapping spit with my incredibly amazing boyfriend. She’s down-to-earth, sweet, and fun.

“Did you know that Alex has a small shrine for you in his trailer? Or should I say,
had
,” she screws her face up in jest, “The movie’s wrapped, no more trailer,” she shrugs on a silly laugh.

Yes, she’s adorably sweet, but my mind kind of exploded at ‘small shrine’.
What?

She laughs, and I quickly pick my lip up off the floor, though no words are formulating to give her a response. I’m gob smacked, trying to imagine what pictures he would have had on display.

“The crew nicknamed him ‘Mr. Smitten’,” she winks, her playful smirk progressing into a sweet smile. “You two are obviously very much in love. Lucky you,” she holds my arm, the warm gesture making me like her even more. “My hubby is very well aware that I think Alex is one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen, so you’ll have to forgive me the numerous interviews I’ve given in which I blabber on about that endlessly. He’s so pretty, it’s sinful.”

Oh, you have no idea
- my inner dreamer swoons.

“Anyway, he had a picture of you in his trailer - a stunning picture, by the way - and when we saw that he added a few more, the crew clipped out media shots of the two of you - anything they could find - and taped them up with the others in his trailer. Oh, my,” she swoons, “…the way he would blush with affection,” she squeezes my arm. “Mr. Smitten.”

Holy crow
. “I…” I don’t even know what to say, my mouth opening and closing like a guppy.

Tracy laughs again, her gaze suddenly leaving mine, flashing over my shoulder.

“Ladies,” Alex’s sexy British brogue wafts deliciously from behind me, his hand absently sliding along my waist. My mind goes blank for a moment, the sound of his voice opening a cage of lusty butterflies in my stomach.

“Hey, Mr. Smitten,” Tracy winks at me, giggling.

“Oh, no,” Alex’s laughter is divine.

I can’t help turning my head to take in the heart melting moment, his head tilting back, his beautiful wide grin pulling mine in equal measure. A jovial Alex could pull a smile from the devil.

“Yup, I’ve spilled the beans, Tate,” Tracy smiles like a giddy cheerleader.

“What other gibberish have you been spilling to my beautiful girl here,” he smiles down at me.

It doesn’t escape me that I’ve yet to manage a word in the past several minutes, but those baby-blues staring down at me just stole my voice once more.

“
Mrs
. Smitten,” Tracy laughs, nudging me, my gaze darting towards her at the sentiment. My heart skips a beat at the entire notion of the title. “Oh and there’s
my
guy,” Tracy adds, noting her husband across the room. “I’ll catch you two later,” she pauses to squeeze my hand with a friendly smile, heading off as we say goodbye.

“She is
so
nice,” I share aloud, watching her walk away.

Alex wraps my waist in his arms, squeezing me back against him. “She’s very sweet, and a wonderful actress,” he agrees genuinely, leaning into my ear, slight preoccupation in his tone, “I especially liked the sound of something she mentioned.”

“Oh? What’s that?” I can finally speak, though it’s barely a whisper.
What comment,
exactly
, is he referring to?
I bite my lip, my inner dreamer shaking her pom poms, chanting, “M. R. S.”

“Alex, my man.”

Our heads turn to find John, the director, approaching, cupping Alex’s shoulder in a friendly, masculine gesture.

“Can I borrow him for a moment, Aby? There’s someone I have to introduce you to, Alex, one of my buddies from Toronto. Hey, you’re from Toronto, aren’t you Aby?” I smile and nod as he quickly continues, “I’ll bring him right back to you, I promise.” He moves to lead Alex away, Alex turning to flash me an apologetic, though brilliant smile.

I stare at his long retreated form, basking in the awe of him.
He had pictures of me in his trailer?
How sweet is that? My heart does a summersault and the pulse it uncontrollably sends down my core jars me back to the present.
Well
.
What now?
I look around, puckering my lips before I spy a waiter across the room holding a tray of hor d’oeurves.
Food works
.

I make my way towards him, grabbing a new glass of wine from another waiter as I pass. I’ve lost count of how many I’ve had, but the fact that I’m wondering may mean I should sip this one slowly. The combination of the effect on my inhibitions at the hands of my consumption, mixed with
Mr. Smitten
himself…
Very, very, dangerous
.

Popping the little treat into my mouth, I moan at the delicious taste, sucking the residue from my fingertip before licking my lip. I have no idea what it was, but
damn
is it yummy.
Shoot, he’s gone
, I glance around for the same waiter, pouting before giving up and taking a sip of wine. Tucking my clutch under my arm, I clasp my hand across my chest, scouting the room for what to do next. I’m trying to look casual, without looking like a dumbass in the corner. Whether it’s working, I have no idea.

Feeling a little vibration from my purse, I tilt my head towards it, catching the very faint chirp of my cell from inside. Juggling my wine glass, I fumble to get it out. It’s a text…from
Alex
?
What?

Subject: Now

Meet me in the hall off the kitchen. Turn right as you pass the media room. If you suck your finger into that pretty mouth of yours one more time, I may just have to take you right here.

My head darts up, searching the room for him.
Oh God
. I look back to my phone, taking in his closing…

Mr. VERY Smitten

Oh good God
, my chest heaves with pants of instant desire. Where the hell is the kitchen?

I make my way to the next room, through yet another, and another, before finally reaching the large gourmet kitchen at the back of the ridiculously large house. It’s empty, the island cluttered with empty food trays. One end of the room opens to what must be a family room -
or media room
? I don’t know where the hell I’m going. Moving past the large leather sectional, I gasp as someone grabs my hand, yanking me into a hallway.

“Mmmm, there you are,” Alex murmurs, leaning casually against the wall, pure lust exploding from his sparkling blue eyes. He looks absolutely sinful standing there watching me, his finger leaving my hand to trail deliciously up my bare arm. My mind couldn’t find a word if I tried. “Come,” he licks his bottom lip, taking a step back, and opening a door behind us.

In a trance, I follow him into…
the powder room
? It’s bigger and incredibly more elaborate than any I’ve ever seen. Catching our reflection in the mirror, the sight of his gaze working it’s way up my body sends the inhibitions that were lying in wait rocketing to life.

“Did you intend to take advantage of me in this ostentatious bathroom, Mr. Tate?” I inquire suggestively, turning slightly to rest my thigh along the large granite countertop, purposely exposing a bit of flesh from beneath the skirt of my dress.

“Perhaps I did,” he smiles, taking a predatory step towards me. “Any reservations?” He reaches for me, lifting me further onto the counter before sliding his hands up my thighs to raise my dress, stepping between the widening spread of my legs.

“None,” I manage on a moan, his hardness brushing my core, his lips placing succulent kisses along my neck that send shivers down my spine.

“Good answer,” he whispers at my ear, taking my hand in his, placing it at his manhood, his clear indication that he wants me to take control.

This Adonis of a man is
mine
. The lusty power that reminder scores through me is carnal. It unleashes me.

I waste no time undoing his pants, his needy stare burning into mine as I slide my hand inside, gripping his smooth cock in my palm, giving it a gentle pull. His guttural groan through parted lips lights my ardor as I reveal his impressive hardness to my gaze, the glistening pre cum donning the tip.

Gripping my thighs firmly, he lifts my ass, shoving the restricting skirt of my dress out of the way.

God
, I moan in anticipation, leaning back, desperate to feel him inside me, resting my hands on the cold granite - an eager, wanting participant in our erotic escapade.

Swiping his fingers along my core through my soaked thong, his eyes take possession of mine. The unadulterated sensuality is his gaze has me sucking in air. “Alex,” I manage on a whisper of need, arching my pelvis towards him.

“Is this what you want, baby,” he takes his cock in hand, rubbing it along my core. “You want me inside you?”

“God, yes,” I moan, my head falling back against the mirror, eyes closed in abandon.

My body shudders as he slides my thong to the side, his hardness sluicing through my wetness before slowly, so very slowly, inching inside me. I can feel every ripple, every hardened edge hitting my sensitive nerves, my legs quivering in anticipation of his fill.

He grabs my legs, plunging deep, hitting the very edge of me. I release a small scream at the fullness, the sheer decadence of having him inside me. Here. Now. It feels naughty.

Holding my legs in the crook of his arms, he leans forward, placing a gentle kiss on my lips. “Shhh, sweetheart. You need to keep quiet,” he whispers against my mouth.

“Oh, God, Alex…I can’t,” I manage, my body undulating towards his steady thrusts.

“You can, and you will,” he leans back with a sinful smile, placing his hand over my mouth, shielding my cries of pleasure.

His thrusts quicken, plunging deep inside my pulsing core over and over again until my head starts spinning, iridescent spots of color invading my psyche. My orgasm looms, threatening to throw me head first over the edge of ultimate pleasure. I bite my lip to hold back my mewls.

“Open your eyes, Aby,” Alex’s voice barrels through my euphoria.

Lifting my head, my eyes open to his blue gaze, heavy with lust, his perfect full lips parted, breaths coming in quick pants through his pounding thrusts.

“I love you,” he mutters, his steel blue eyes holding me hostage, my eyes echoing his words as I fall, plummeting into oblivion.

“WHERE ARE YOU taking me?” I giggle, grabbing a tighter hold of Alex’s arm, fighting the urge to reach up and pull the blindfold away.

“We’re almost there.” There’s a cute excitement in his voice that sends butterflies shooting through my tummy, exhilaration coursing through my veins. “I’ve got you,” he reassures me as I stumble, a small squeak escaping my lips. Instinctively, I reach out, clasping his fingers tightly in my grip. “You’re okay,” he chuckles, securing his arm around my waist to guide me.

My heels don’t seem to agree with the sudden change in the ground texture. It’s uneven, and full of some kind of debris, and I maneuver with measured steps. Taking a deep breath, I inhale the air around me, my senses heightened by my restricted vision, the scent of the outdoors permeating my psyche.

Finally coming to a stop, he releases my death grip, slowly turning me in place. I feel like a mannequin in the movement, excited, but stiff as a board - a rather unpliable combination. “I’m going to sit you down,” he warns, guiding me.