Holding On To Love (23 page)

"Jesus fucking Christ! I look like a God damn pink penguin!" I shouted as the tailor fixed the bow tie on my white dress shirt.

"Just another moment, Sir," he said, buttoning the mauve colored vest.

"This is bullshit! Are we in the fucking middle ages or some shit? Did I travel back into time?" I roared. "I mean, if she wanted me to match her, I might as well have worn a goddamn dress, right?"

"I'm sorry, Sir. Miss Fern requested you dress appropriately to match her attire this evening," the tailor said. "Please be still."

"Fine," I huffed and stood in place on the pedestal in front of the three-way mirror as the tailor lifted the black jacket over my shoulders, which only covered a small portion of the hideous pink fucking vest I was wearing underneath.

Once the tailor was finished, he suggested I do something with my unruly hair, which in turn pissed me off, so I gathered my things and walked out of the tailor shop.

The limousine was parked along the curb outside and the driver had waited patiently for over an hour as I got fitted for my god awful tuxedo. I opened the back door before he had a chance to assist me.

"We're good to go, Frank," I said to the driver.

"Of course, Mr. McCabe," he said and pulled the limo away from the curb.

This was going to be a long night. I just hoped Sera wouldn't try anything, because I wasn't sure I could handle her games. I poured a glass of whiskey from the mini bar, leaned back and downed the entire thing in one gulp. I poured another and set it down beside me. The driver announced we would be arriving at the Fern mansion in a few minutes.

The Fern family lived outside Scottsdale on several acres. Mr. Fern was best know for his show Arabian horses. The facility that houses the horses was twice the size of their eight thousand square foot home, nestled against the plateaus that surrounded the city. Sera had been living in the pool house since she was sixteen, with a full staff at her beckon call.

The limo turned down the long drive and stopped outside the gate to announce our arrival. The iron gates slowly swung open, the driveway was lined with palm trees and agave plants and I wondered if Mr. Fern had taken a liking to tequila making along with his many other ventures.

Frank pulled the limo under the porte-cochere and stopped. One of the mansion's staff members greeted him at the bottom of the steps. He nodded and retreated inside. I leaned back into the cool leather seat and sipped on my whiskey.

Ten minutes later the doors opened and Sera descended the stairs wearing a short, strapless, tight pink dress that left little to the imagination. Frank opened the door across from me and Sera ducked inside.

"You don't even greet me at the door now?" She asked.

"Get in, Sera," I said in a clipped tone.

"Jeez, B. What the hell crawled up your ass and died?" She asked as she slid across the seat toward me.

"You fucking kidding right? This 'get-up' is a goddamn joke, Sera," I snapped.

She reached over and smoothed the lapels of my jacket. "You look so handsome, baby. I love this color on you."

I swatted her hand away. "Don't call me that."

"What?" She cooed.

"Baby. Don't fucking call me Baby."

"Listen to me carefully. This is my night, my birthday. Do me a favor and quit being a dick. If you ruin this night for me, I'll make sure that shit hole of yours gets shut down for good. Do you understand?" She threatened.

"Yeah, Sera. I read you loud and clear. You can stop with your idle fucking threats because I have my resources too," I snapped.

She leaned closer and brought her hand up to my chin. "Don't you dare threaten me. So, please stop this back and forth bullshit. I'm here to have fun and I expect you to show me a good time," she said and kissed me on the cheek.

"Alright, but this is the very last time I do you any favors," I said and swallowed the remainder of my drink.

She smiled and leaned back into the seat next to me. "Pour me some champagne, would you?"

"Sure," I said and leaned forward to retrieve the open bottle of champagne.

I handed her the glass, returned to the bar for more whiskey and took another large swig of the amber liquid.

"Please try not to drink too much tonight, I'd hate for you to embarrass yourself," she said as she held a compact mirror to her face.

"I'll drink as much as I damn well please," I shot back.

She rolled her eyes and slid the compact back into her tiny clutch.

"Miss Fern?" Frank asked as he eyed us in the rear view mirror.

She scooted toward the front of the limo and leaned over the seat to speak to Frank.

I started to feel a bit more relaxed, thanks to the alcohol filling my veins, so I reached forward and turned the stereo on. Satellite radio was just what I needed, so I scrolled through, found a hard rock station and turned it up. Sera shot me an annoyed glance and I ignored it.

She returned to her seat, leaned over and turned the music down.

"If you're doing this just to irritate me. It's working. Are you happy now?" She spat.

"No, not entirely. I actually thought about rolling up the divider while you were fondling Frank," I joked. Her face went blood red and she turned, lifted her hand to slap me, but I caught her wrist in midair and laughed.

"You really are a fucking asshole, you know that?"

"Only because of you, honey," I said.

She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. I was pretty sure one more smart-ass comment would land me on the side of the road, which in all honesty wouldn't be that bad.

"Frank informed me that we'll be arriving at the hotel in a few minutes," she said sternly. "And seriously, Brody. You could've at least gotten a haircut. It looks like a fucking mess."

"There's nothing wrong with my hair, Sera." I said as I ran my hand through my thick hair.

She sat back in her seat and pulled her phone out.

Good. Stupid bitch had pushed my last button.

The limo rounded the corner and stopped outside the hotel. The valet came around to the side of the car and the media was already swarming the car. Flash bulbs were going off at every angle, people shouting Sera's name and a few even pounded on the back window. Frank slipped out of the driver's seat and headed to the back of the limo. He moved the photographers back so we could step out and not get trampled.

I turned to Sera, her eyes lit up and a plastic smile was plastered on her heavily made-up face. Frank opened the door and ushered me out first. I stepped out, turned and reached my hand inside to assist Sera. What? It's the gentlemanly thing to do. She grasped it lightly and inched her way out without flashing the ever growing crowd her lady parts.

"Seraphine! Seraphine!" They shouted in unison and she just smiled and waved.

She took my arm, continued to adorn her fans, which I'm sure she had paid most of them to be here tonight and I led her through the hotel's grand entryway. The media was thankfully, not allowed inside the hotel, but they still snapped their photos anyway.

"Seraaaaaa!!" Her friend screamed and skipped toward us.

Sera released my arm and embraced the girl, who expressed her jealousy over her dress and shoes.

Fuck. Get me to a bar, I didn't think I could listen to anymore high-pitched squealing from the Barbie twins.

I leaned into Sera and whispered, "I'll be at the bar."

"No. You have to escort me into the ballroom first," she said with her fake smile still imbedded on her face.

"Brody, this is my friend, Nicole. Nicole, this is my friend Brody," Sera said and I reached out to shake the girls hand, inwardly thanking her for introducing me as her friend.

"Oh! Sera, he's such a dream. Where'd you snatch him up?" Nicole asked, giggling.

I clasped my hands together and leaned forward. "Well, Nicole, was it?" She nodded. "Sera's being modest. Really, we aren't friends at all. I actually can't stand her, but to be honest with you, she's a fucking wild cat in the sack, if you catch my drift—"

Sera dug her nails into my arm and pushed me back away from her friend, who looked dumbstruck. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She snapped.

"Oh, calm down, Sera. I was just fucking with her," I said calmly.

"Have you already forgotten what I said in the limo?"

"Of course not, you'd never let me forget," I said and threw my head back laughing.

"You think this is funny?" Now I was sure I'd hit a nerve, since her face was turning a lovely shade of crimson.

Score: Brody 1, Sera zip.

"Just keep your mouth shut, escort me inside and then you can go get yourself a fucking drink. Okay?"

"Yep. Your wish is my command, your highness," I said and bowed slightly.

Sera growled and dug her nails further into my arm. Fucking bitch.

"Shall we," I said and motioned her to move forward. She turned and shot me a wicked glare, which made me smile. I was happy to be a part of ruining her delusional fairytale.

She pulled a large flamingo-like mask over her eyes, turned and handed me a plain black Zorro-looking mask. I fixed it over my eyes as she instructed and we made our way up the grand staircase into the ballroom.

Two half-naked, oiled men opened the heavy doors and I led Sera inside. Music filled the enormous space which was decorated like one of Gatsby's parties. A ten foot tall ice sculpture of a flamingo sat in the center of the room and spun slowly while a pink light lit it up from underneath. Pink, silver and aqua streamers covered the ceiling and in each corner, stood a pedestal with a woman on each, dressed as elaborate birds who danced to the music.

"A little over the top, don't ya think?" I asked over the loud music.

She giggled and held my arm tighter. "Don't be silly. It's fabulous."

Groups of guests, friends and family all greeted Sera with kisses and hugs, each person telling her how amazing she looked.

"I'm going to find the bar. Can I get you anything?" I interrupted.

"No, I'm fine," she said and waved me off.

Thank God.

I spotted the bar across the ballroom and hurried as if the whiskey was calling my name. I propped my elbows on the edge of the bar, lifted the mask from my eyes and pitched it into the garbage behind the bartender.

"What can I get for you , Sir?" He asked.

"Whiskey. The best you have, please."

"How do you take it?"

"On the rocks and make it a double, thanks." I said and he grabbed a bottle off the back shelf.

He handed me the drink, thanked him and turned to face the crowded room.

"Brody?" A familiar, sweet voice asked.

I turned to face her and my mouth fell open.

"Would you excuse me for a moment? I think I see a friend of mine at the bar," I interrupted as I kept my eyes trained on Brody.

"Of course, Ally. Take your time," Corey said and returned to his conversation with Mr. Fern.

Thank goodness. Who knew a journalist like Corey could be so boring? I probably yawned twenty times in the last ten minutes.

I smoothed my dress over, adjusted my peacock mask and headed toward the bar. His back was facing me so I snuck in beside him and ordered a drink. The bartender handed him his whiskey and slid my rum and coke in front of me. Brody gripped his drink, turned around and leaned back against the stone bar top.

"Brody?" I asked and he turned to face me.

If I wasn't mistaken, his jaw dropped.

"Allyson?" He asked in that rough, scruffy voice I was beginning to know and love. "You look absolutely ravishing tonight."

"Thank you— Although, I'm not sure I can say the same," I said and approached him. "What's with the flamingo pink get-up?"

He shrugged and gave me a little half smile that made me ask myself why I'd bothered wearing panties if they were going to just spontaneously combust anyway.

"My date has a thing for flamingos, apparently." He said and my heart dropped.

"Date?" I asked curiously.

"Seraphine," he said and took a sip of his whiskey.

"Oh— I didn't realize you had a girlfriend," I said and I could feel the bile rise in my throat.

He moved closer and I could smell cologne mixed with his Brody-like scent. "Oh hell no. She's not my girlfriend. She's a manipulative bitch, that's all she is," he laughed and my stomach fluttered, as if each tiny butterfly had steel wings and were suddenly trying to claw their way out. A smile crept across my face and I laughed.

"Really? I'd never peg you for the type," I teased.

"Touché, my little fox, touché," he said and I felt the hairs on my neck stand on end.

He set his drink on the bar, took my hands in his and my entire body tingled. 

"Would you like to dance, Allyson?" He asked and I swear my panties dissolved a little more.

"I'd love to," I said softly and he flashed his sexy, dimpled grin.

He held my hand a led me onto the dance floor to join other couples now slow dancing to Michael Bublé.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and he pulled me closer. I felt his warm grasp on my lower back as we swayed to the music.

"You really are the most beautiful creature in this entire room, Allyson," he whispered softly and I could feel his hot breath on my neck, which sent electricity coursing through my veins.

"You really are quite the gentleman, Mr. McCabe," I said.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew what I was thinking, Miss Monroe," he whispered and I felt my knees weaken. He grasped my waist tighter and pulled me so close that I could feel what he was referring to. His hardness strained against the seam of his pants and I reached up, pulled his head down to meet mine and kissed him.

Holy shit! What am I doing?

His kiss began soft, but soon his breath became ragged and he delved deep into my mouth with his tongue.

He pulled back, took my hand and led me through the ballroom.

"Where are we going?" I asked excitedly.

"Somewhere we can be alone," he said and my heart began to race.

He swung a side entrance door open, turned and backed me into the wall of the dimly-lit hallway. With his hands on either side of me, he held his body just far enough for me to feel the heat building between us, he let out a labored breath and my hands found their way into his soft, thick hair as I pulled him down to kiss me again. Our tongues danced together and my legs struggled to hold my weight.

"Brody," I whispered between soft kisses.

"Allyson," he said and his gaze locked on mine as he lifted my mask off. His green eyes turned amber and then darkened, signaling he was ready for pure carnal lust.

"Maybe we should slow down," I said softly.

Jesus, stupid! Why the hell did I say that?

"I've waited for this moment for a long time, Allyson and I'll be damned if I'm going to take it slow with you— I can see it in your eyes too. I can see how much you want me right now." His deep voice sent shockwaves through my entire body with every word. I squeezed my legs together in an attempt to extinguish the dull ache between them, but the sensation grew and all I wanted was to tear his clothes off.

Damn it! He was making it impossible to think straight.

"But—" I protested.

"You can't tell me you haven't felt anything between us. It's like an invisible ribbon between us, Allyson and for some reason it keeps bringing us together. I don't know what it is, but I can't, nor do I want to keep my hands off of you. I want to plant kisses on your sweet strawberry flavored lips, explore your naked body with my tongue and dip my cock deep inside of you. I want to hear you come again for me, scream my name and beg me to never stop giving you what you crave," he said softly and my body being the traitor that it was, turned to putty in his strong hands.

Holy fuck! That was the hottest thing I'd ever heard.

He took my hand again and let me down the hallway. We rounded the corner and spotted an elevator at the end. My cheeks flushed as I remembered the last moment we spent together.

"You have a thing for elevators, Mr. McCabe?" I asked, half teasing.

He turned to face me. "The question is, Miss Monroe. Do
you
have a thing for elevators?" He asked before he leaned down and kissed me deeply.

"Well, I do think they serve more than one purpose these days," I said.

"Good, elevator it is. Now get in before I strip you naked right here," he growled.

"So demanding," I said and backed into the elevator, still holding his hand tightly. "I think I like it." 

As soon as the doors closed behind us, he pushed a button and the elevator stopped moving. He pulled my chin to meet his gaze.

"You are so fucking beautiful," he said and kissed me again. This time his lips were hot and swollen. I could taste my strawberry gloss mixed with whiskey and it made me want him even more.

I unbuttoned his vest, dress shirt and loosened his bow tie. He shrugged out of his jacket and let it fall to the floor. His hands worked the silky material of my dress as he lifted it over my head and dropped it to the floor.

"Holy fuck, Ally. Please tell me you wear this kinda shit every day," he said as he stood back and admired my white lace thong, matching bustier and silver stilettos.

I mentally noted to buy more lingerie and throw out every single pair of cotton panties I owned.

I pulled his vest and shirt back. His chest wasn't just sculpted, it was perfect. Every muscle from his chest down to his abs was flawless. I stood staring at him in awe.

"Wow," I breathed.

His lips were on mine again, his hands lifting me up onto the railing in the corner of the elevator.

"I want you. All of you," I whispered into his mouth.

I reached down, unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. I moved my hand over his erection and I felt it pulse against my palm. I pulled the waistband of his boxer briefs down and his beautiful cock sprang free. I traced my fingers lightly down his chest, across his abs and gripped him in my hand. He gasped and threw his head back. I slowly moved to my knees and took him in my mouth, as he held me steady with one hand, guiding me over his thick length.

"God, Ally. Ahhh, fuck," he moaned between faltered breaths.

I moved quicker, flicking my tongue across the tip and taking him as far as I could.

"Fuck," he growled. "Allyson, my sweet little fox. You've got to stop or I'm gonna lose it."

I gave him one last flick with my tongue and planted kisses up his stomach. He lifted me up with both hands, spread my legs, forcing me to wrap them around his waist and dipped two fingers inside of my panties.

"Jesus. You're so damn wet," he said, teasing me by massaging my  sensitive nub with the pad of his thumb. 

He slipped both fingers inside me and I moaned.

Holy shit. My body was definitely a goddamn traitor.

"Tell me what you want, Ally. I need to hear you say it."

"I want you inside me... now."

He retracted his fingers and I felt him tug at my panties, causing them to rip into two.

"I don't have a condom," he said.

"It's okay. I'm on the pill," I said as I gasped for air.

"Are you sure?" He asked as he peppered my neck with kisses.

"YES! I've never wanted anything in my life more than I want you right now."

My breath became ragged and hot. He leaned down to kiss me again, this time taking his time while he nibbled my lip between his teeth.

"Please," I begged.

"I have a lot to give, Ally. But I want to taste you before I give you what you want," he said as he lowered my bustier and my breasts sprang free.

He palmed my left breast and then the right. My nipples ached for his touch as he took one in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and gently nibbling at it. My chest rose and fell with every motion, sending shock waves through my body. The throbbing between my thighs grew as he tortured each nipple over and over again.

"Ahhh. Please." I begged again.

"Please, what Ally?" He asked, taking both breasts in his hands and gently squeezed each nipple between his thumb and index finger.

"Please, Brody. I need you inside me... right fucking now," I pleaded. 

He gripped my hips with both hands, his cock moved slowly against my slickened folds, teasing me. The anticipation was going to make me come apart as I rocked my hips forward against the tip his thick length. In one quick motion, he thrust forward, filling me and stretching me completely. My head fell back against the cold metal wall and I cried out.

"Ahhh... fuck," I moaned and his mouth covered mine once again.

Each time he moved, I felt my muscles contract around him and I was already getting close to the edge.

"Fuck," He groaned. "You're so fucking gorgeous and your tight little pussy is gonna make me come."

"I need you, Brody. God, I need you, please don't stop."

"Fuck that's hot. Say my name again," he commanded.

My eyelids fluttered. "Brody...God. Fuck me...Brody." I cried out as I climaxed and every muscle in my body convulsed with pleasure.   

"Oh... Allyson. Ahhh... fuuuuuck," he said as he thrust into me one more time before collapsing against my chest.

We stood, naked, sweaty, and panting.

"Well, that's a first for me," I whispered as his gaze locked on mine again and he looked afraid.

"Please don't run this time, Ally. I'll do anything to prove to you that I'm worth taking a risk," he said softly and cupped my face in his hands.

"I won't run, not ever. I know what I want now, it just took me a while to figure it out," I said and placed a light kiss on his forehead.

He gently lifted me back to my feet.

"You'll give me a chance then?" He asked as he buttoned his shirt and vest.

I nodded. "Yes." I said, still admiring the god of a man standing before me.

"Good. Lets start now—" he said as a wild smirk crossed his face. "Miss Monroe, I would love for you to join me on the dance floor."

"Why Mr. McCabe, I'd love to join you, but it seems someone tore my favorite pair of panties and now I feel a bit naked," I laughed.

"Oh, a girl after my own heart. I say fuck 'em and dance with me anyway," he joked.

Oh shit! There is was again. The dull ache between my legs had returned for round two. Easy, Ally...he's not a damn robot!

I smiled and met his lips for another kiss.

"I love the way you taste, Ally. I never want to stop kissing you." He said and my cheeks flushed.

I giggled, reached down and retrieved my dress. I adjusted my bustier and Brody lifted the dress over my head. The fabric fell around me and although my panties were missing, I felt the warmth of his touch linger on my skin.

"Shall we?" He asked and he tapped the button for the third floor.

The elevator began moving again and I felt my weakened legs tremble. The doors opened a moment later, we made our way back around to the grand staircase hand in hand and once we reached the bottom, he planted a soft kiss on my forehead.

"I could get use to this," I said looking up at him smiling brightly.

"I guess I should take advantage of you in confined areas more often, Miss Monroe," he teased and lifted my hand to his lips.

I laughed and like a perfect gentleman, he opened the door to the ballroom and led me inside. The air was thick with laughter and music. People crowded the dance floor as up-beat techno played overhead.