A second chance...At first love (Second Love Series Book 1) (8 page)

Ellington

He was tossing and turning, in the midst of a nightmare, images from that morning fifteen years ago still playing through his mind.  He could see it like it was really happening.  His vision was blurry and he was stumbling to his car, he pressed the key ring to unlock his Lexus LX 470, it was a gift from his dad for his 21st birthday.  He got behind the wheel and started the car up, before he pulled off he cranked up the stereo, Eminem's "Guilty Conscience" was blaring. 
How fitting
, he now thought.  He pulled out of the parking lot and felt his phone vibrate, he tried to reach for it. It stopped vibrating by the time he pulled it off the clip.  He looked down and saw he had 18 missed calls.  Most of them were probably from that Sabrina chick he banged last week, she would not leave him alone.  What happened next; happened in slow motion like always.  It was 6:09am, he would never forget the time, and it was etched into his brain.  He looked up too late and couldn't stop, he tried to swerve and couldn't, and before he could stop it, he felt the thud.  He saw her hit the car and fly forward. He got out of the car to check on her, he saw she was pregnant.  He ran over to her and saw blood, so much blood.  He tried to check her vitals, but he didn't feel anything.  Maybe he was doing it wrong.  He tried to see if she was breathing, he put his ear to her mouth and listened. All he heard was a gurgle and then nothing. "Oh my god!" He screamed.  He wretched and threw up the contents of his stomach, he called 911 and sat numbly on the curb.  He had killed her!  He woke up screaming "NOOOOO!"  It took him a second before he realized where he was. 

"Shit! It was that fucking dream again," he mumbled to himself. It was part of the reason he never let anyone stay at his place and why he never stayed over with anyone.  He never knew when the dream would come.  It came often enough that he didn't want to risk having a witness.  Because of his family connections, he got off with a slap on the wrist, only really having to serve some community service hours.  His life was forever changed in the instant that he forever changed someone else's life.  He made sure that his father and his Nonnino paid all of the expenses for Abby and little Samuel, from hospital bills to the funeral service. He went every year on his birthday and took flowers and apologized.  He had set up the AbSam foundation about a year after the accident.  It was his private philanthropy.  He used it to help single mothers in the area. He had a full staff that took care of the needs of mothers and their children, providing things like diapers and clothing, food and even limited medical care. In some cases the foundation was even able to help families get housing.  He told them about it on one of his visits to their graves. Every year he would update them on it and the other things.  That morning really did change him, even if he was still a bit of a womanizer; he did a lot of good in the community that no one knew about.  He didn't do it for recognition, he did it to try and right a wrong he knew he could never fix.  He got up and striped off the boxers he was wearing, they were soaking wet from sweat. He jumped in the shower and let the warm water run over his body. He always wanted a drink after the dream came, but he would never allow himself to give in.  He leaned his head on the shower wall and ran his hand over his tattoo.  He let the water ease his tensions and decided to do what he always did when he need to relax, he envisioned a woman.  This time it was a woman who had become a frequent fixture in his thoughts, Isabella Bunton. He thought about the last time he saw her in that long black dress.  After her performance, he was able to get a good look at her.  She wasn't too tall, he guessed about 5'4", athletic shape, full breasts, not big about a C cup he figured, tiny waist and an ass that wouldn't quit.  He imagined kissing her neck and he could feel himself growing hard. He trailed kisses down the center of her chest.  He began to stroke himself.  He imagined breathing in her scent, it was probably something with Jasmine in it or amber and vanilla, he didn't know why he thought that, it just seemed to fit.  He imagined running his hands through that long auburn hair, running his tongue up and down that almond neck. 
Shit!
He was on fire.  He continued allowing his mind explore Isabella as he had done previously.  He found that when he fantasized about her, he wanted to take his time and sample every inch of her, so unlike real life.  He usually just wanted to screw and be done with them.  It wasn't that he hated women or was anti-women in any way; he was actually rather fond of them. He found them beautiful in all of their shapes, forms and colors.  He just couldn't allow himself to get attached, so that was how he approached sex, very detached.  He never had any complaints. He knew exactly what to do to make a woman orgasm, he just wasn’t about the kissing and cuddling and very rarely did he go down on a woman.  It wasn't because he didn't enjoy, because he did.  He loved it in fact.  It was just that from his experience it made women crazy.  He was never one to half ass anything and he was good at it, really good.  In the past it seemed that when that line was crossed it made perfectly normal women turn into clingy monsters, so he avoided it. Again, he remained detached.  Izzie was different, he wanted to take his time with her, get to know every inch of her body.  He wanted to learn her likes and dislikes so that a mere look from him could make her shudder.  He had to get her out of his system, these were feelings that he couldn't afford.  He finished his fantasy in the shower before the hot water ran out, toweled himself off and climbed back into the bed with nothing on.  He figured that way, if he woke up in the middle of the night with thoughts of Izzie, there was nothing to get in his way.

Izzie

Since she saw Ellington a week ago, she didn't get that nickname Scotty, sounded like a kid to her; she debated whether or not she should try to contact him.  She googled him so she knew he worked at Scott & Freedman, his father's brokerage where he was a junior partner.  He had been on NYC's Most Eligible Bachelor List for the last five or six years.  He must be a thrill seeker because she found out that he had his pilot's license and loved to sail.  To top it off, every event photo she saw him in, he had a beautiful super model type on his arm.  Tall, leggy and uber gorgeous.  She decided against contacting him, she definitely wasn't his type.  He was way out of her league, she thought.  She had a rare day off, so she was relaxing at home looking through the classifieds for a new place, when her buzzer rang. She got up and hit the intercom button.

"Who is it?"

"Package for Isabella Bunton," she giggled to herself remembering her first steamy dream about Ellington.  She hit the buzzer to let them up. A few minutes later there was a knock at her door, she opened it and was surprised at the beautiful bouquet of flowers in front of her.  They were gorgeous.  The delivery man handed her the flowers and as he turned to leave, she asked him to wait a moment so she could grab her purse for a tip.

"It's been taken care of Ma'am," he said.  She thanked him again and set the flowers on her kitchen table.  She admired the flowers, a beautifully arranged assortment of flowers ranging from roses, to peonies to calla lilies.  She looked through the flowers for a card, because she had no idea who they were from. 
They smell amazing
, she thought as she found the card.

"I hope you find these flowers as beautiful as I find the woman they are intended for.  I am hoping to take you up on that rain check very soon.  You name the time and place and consider me there.  You can reach my on my cell phone at any time.  Look forward to hearing from you soon Ms. Isabella Bunton.

~Scotty

His number was on the back of the card. 
Should she call? What should she say? Wait, how did he get her address? Never mind,
she thought, he works for a multi-million dollar brokerage, finding the little Philharmonic girl probably wasn't a big issue.  Or he could have just googled her.  She had to call Teddy.

"Hey chica, are you resting on your day off?" Teddy said.

"Yea, I was actually just looking for a place in the classifieds when I got a package and you will never guess who it was from."

"Shut up, no way!"

"Yes!  Teddy he sent me a bouquet of flowers.  They are gorgeous!"

"Yea, yea that's great, what did the card say Iz?"

Izzie read the card.

"Izzie, you have to call him!"

"I don't know Ted, I google stalked him and I've seen his type and I'm not it."

"Omg girl, if you don't stop with the 'pitiful old Izzie' bit.  You my dear friend are the most gorgeous person I know.  It’s why I became your friend all those years ago; I was hoping it would help with my popularity." Teddy said with a chuckle.

"Ted, you are nuts. It’s one of the reasons that I love you.  Okay, let's say I call, he doesn't exactly seem like the dating type."

"Ok but you don't know and even if he's not, go out. Get out of the house; no one says you have to sleep with him, although I may have to question our friendship if you don't because I need details."  Izzie busted out in laughter.

"Teddy you really are a mess.  You better make sure Charlie isn't eavesdropping, you don't want him to get jealous that you are all head over heels for someone else."

"Pssh, he's in the living room playing on the Xbox, he doesn't hear anything.  He's too busy talking trash to whoever is on the other end.  Probably some thirteen year old in Saskatchewan."

"Boys and their toys," Izzie laughed.  "Ok so say I call.  He left it up to me, what should we do?"

"I don't know but I will say that whatever it is, make sure it’s something that you really enjoy. Since the choice is yours, you have control, if it’s something you enjoy, it will be more comfortable to you."

"Ok good idea.  Thanks Teddy.  I will let you know how it goes."

The two briefly chatted then ended with their standard goodbye.  What should she do with Ellington?  She thought about it and figured it out.  She was a science buff, which easily translated into cooking. Measuring and mixing ingredients, things start off in one way and end up another.  She was going to invite him over to cook a meal together.  She felt that the best way to get to know someone was to talk and cooking and talking go hand and hand.  She practiced her speech in her head about ten times before she picked up her phone and dialed his number.

"Hello," he answered.  She almost lost it at his voice; it was so deep and rich. She swore if sex had a sound that was it.

"Hello, I'm trying to reach Mr. Ellington Scott."

"Well since you called his cell phone and I answered so I'm going to assume I'm him, how can I help you?" Ugh he was such a bastard, a hot sexy bastard.  She sighed.

"Mr. Scott, this is Isabella Bunton, I wanted say thank you very much for the beautiful flowers."

"Ah, Isabella, beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman; I hope you are enjoying them."

"I am they are wonderful and smell delicious." Did she really just delicious? 

"I'm glad you liked them.  Have you decided how I can cash in my rain check?"

"I have.  How are you in the kitchen Mr. Scott?"

"I avoid them at all costs and I would really prefer you to call me Scotty or at the very least Ellington." No one ever called him that, why was he giving her that option?

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry Ellington.  Well time to roll up those pretty sleeves and get your hands dirty.  Are you free this evening?"

"For you Isabella, I'm free whenever you want me."  He said with a smirk.

"How about we just start with this evening?  My place, I know you already have my address.  Can you be here around 6?"

"Six it is. It’s a date!"

"See you then Ellington."

"Can't wait Isabella."

Ellington

She called.  He couldn't believe he was this excited about a phone call, about a woman.   Not just any woman, it was her.  She had been occupying his dreams for weeks now, maybe by the end of tonight he would be able to get her out of his system.  It was Saturday afternoon, he was going to go for a run but it was raining so he used the treadmill in his office.  Ellington was a workaholic but he believed in making sure he was in good shape.  He woke up every morning at 4:30 to work out. Some days, when he had extra energy to burn, like today, he'd go for a run.  It seemed to help him clear his mind.  Today, he just needed to burn off nervous energy.  She wanted to cook.  He was a disaster in the kitchen.  He should probably have a restaurant on standby just in case. What would they do? This was different territory for him.  Sure he dated; typical things like dinner, theatre, parties, but he never did this. He was actually a little nervous.  He didn't like it.  He put his earbuds in and ran.  He ran for about an hour and lifted weights for another, when he finished he was drenched in sweat and still tense.  He could really use a drink.  He had to set his game plan.  He needed to be there by six, and he would have his driver take him instead of driving himself.  He needed to stop by a florist and the liquor store; he wanted to bring her a nice bottle of wine.  He had heard the women in his office talking about Moscato.  He had no idea about which bottle to get, so he figured he'd just grab the most expensive bottle and be done.  He jumped in the shower and let the hot water soothe his aching muscles.  He began to think about what the night ahead had in store.  He wondered what she would wear, what she would smell like, what it would feel like to grab her firm round ass, how her skin would taste, how she would feel with her legs wrapped around him while he was deep inside her.  As always the thoughts made him grow hard and he stroked himself to a finish.  He stepped out of the shower, toweled off, shaved, then went to his closet and picked out khakis pants, a belt and a light pink button down shirt.  He rolled the sleeves to just below his tattoo. He decided to wear his Derek Jeter edition Movado wrist watch instead of the stainless steel Movado he typically wore.  He didn't know what kind of disaster he was stepping into and didn't want to ruin his favorite watch.  Women collect shoes, he collected watches.  He splashed on his go to cologne, Gucci's "Guilty," checked his work email and walked out the door.  First stop was to grab a bottle of wine.  He told the guy behind the counter that he was looking for a bottle of Moscato. They guy started talking to him about grapes and desired sweetness, he stopped him.

"Give me the best-selling bottle."  He should have said that from the beginning like he planned.  He didn't know anything about wine and he wanted to sound informed when he gave Izzie the bottle but after two minutes of grape talk he decided he didn't care anymore.  He called the florist on the way and had them prepare a smaller version of the bouquet he had sent earlier.  He arrived at Izzie's place about five minutes early.