Take a Bow (The Perfect Plans Series Book 2) (13 page)

His hips buck against me, sending squeezing pulses to my core as he swallows my needy gasp. It’s almost enough to make me lose control. Almost.

Pulling from his lips, I trail kisses down his neck, sliding my body down his, my fingers devouring the path of my lips and tongue. I relish every inch of him, every perfectly sculpted ridge before reaching his happy trail, disappearing beneath the band of his white cotton bottoms. Pausing, I catch his mischievous gaze followed by his teasing shrug at my momentary hindrance.

“Cocky, Mr. Tate?” I raise my brows in playful defiance.

He laughs, his beautiful mouth inviting me, pulling me like a doll on a string to surrender and pounce.

It’s a test of composure that my body is begging to give in to, but the thrill of anticipation wins back my upper hand. “Allow me to wipe that smug little smile off your face,” I add with devilish desire, sensually swiping his covered erection from base to tip.

“Aby,” he groans, his arms tugging at their bindings, his smile effectively twisted into needy, breathless lust.

God, I want him.
I almost lose myself in the lure of his stare, quickly pulling at the waistband of his pants. The release of his erection jars my restraint further, and I unconsciously lick my lip, biting it to fight for control, as I watch it bob against him enticingly.

“Come here,” he orders in husky need, pulling at the bindings once more.

My gaze slits defiantly, his command restoring my desire for control. Stepping off the bottom of the bed, I pull his pants off in the motion, discarding them to the floor. I can’t take my eyes off of him. Naked and bound, he takes my breath away.

His muscular legs are spread enticingly, his cock ready and waiting at their apex - a flashing beacon, like a tantalizing runway, inviting me to land on this Adonis of a man. It’s so hard to walk away when all I want to do is fly.

But this is
my
game.

“You’ll be okay here for a little while?” I ask, resorting to playful teasing to rein in my threatening bashful and impending surrender.

His eyebrow lifts above an amused challenging smirk. “I’ll be just fine,” he replies as I turn to make my way to the veranda. “When I get my hands on you, however,” he continues in a sexy warning, “…you won’t be walking so leisurely away by the time I’m done.”

His inviting admonition elicits a naughty visual, a smile creeping across my face as I pretend to ignore him and continue on.

Eying the table full of mouthwatering breakfast delicacies, I raise my brow at the dessert options. A lover’s breakfast.
Brilliant. This place thinks of everything
, I smile to myself, deciding on the bowl of chocolate covered strawberries and vessel of whipped cream.

Dipping one of the strawberries in the cream, I take a taste as inspiration builds from the onslaught of anticipation. I move into his view, standing in the center of the wall of open glass doors. “You okay?” I question with playful sarcasm, licking the whipped cream before taking the last bite.

His grimacing smile highlights his impatient discomfort, though the underlying desire in his gaze is thrilling.

“I’m thinking about a dip in the pool,” I continue, bending to remove my boy shorts, seductively brushing along my core as I reach for the hem of my tank top.

He tugs on the ties a little, shooting me warning glare.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I add, tossing my top to the floor, “I forgot. You’re hungry.” I pout teasingly.

Clenching his jaw, he moves to speak, but I turn away to grab the bowls, smiling at my effect on him. It’s empowering, and incredibly sexy, and I saunter in my gait back towards him.

“Breakfast in bed, my love,” I climb up beside him, resting back on my heels, offering him a prepared strawberry.

He eyes it, held in my fingers at his mouth, before glancing into my eyes. “Payback?” he laughs, locking me in his sinful gaze.

I shrug with defiant confidence.

He takes a bite, and my core clenches at the sight of his tongue licking the cream left behind. I can’t look away, taking my lip in my teeth as I’m assaulted by the sexual pull of this man. His mouth alone can strike down my control.

The pull of his smirk jars me momentarily before his erection flickers at my side, grabbing my instant attention.

He doesn’t play fair. How
do
they move it like that?
I turn my knowing glare back to his, the teasing bounce of his brow thrashing me back into gear. “You know,” I begin, conspiratorially, “…sometimes you just have to give in and admit that you don’t always have control.
Mine
,” I add, reaching for him, my grip taking ownership around the underside of his shaft.

His immediate groan elicits the stroke of my hold, a brush over the top and back down the underside once more. It feels incredible to watch him lose himself to my touch.

I massage his length, over and over, my fingers magically mastering his moans as I take ownership of his desire. Desire that threatens to implode through me, building with each undulation of his hips at my will. I’m on fire for him, the feel of his girth in the control of my palm scorching through me. My pussy clenches for him, desperate to have him inside me.

Closing my eyes, I lose myself in the moment, my free hand caressing my breast in time with my strokes of his shaft. Uncontrollably, I lift my ass, mimicking a desire to ride him, my hand gliding down to fill his absence as my massaging fingers continue to devour his length.

“Untie me,” he orders in a firm, breathless whisper.

Overtaken by my seduction, I nip at my lip, locking our gaze as I ride my fingers slowly, erotically; rimming his erection with each gentle, squeezing stroke.

“Fuck,” he growls, his muscles bulging and rippling, breaking free from his bindings.

A delicious shiver courses through me as he grips my ass, lifting me to straddle him. I gasp as he pushes me back on the bed, my legs spread around him, my wet, clenching pussy splayed for his perusal.

“Oh, God,” I moan, as he fills me with his fingers, my body arching in desperation. The building desire threatens to consume me as he fucks me with his masterful digits, working my core the way only he can. I’m his. Always, and only his for the taking.

I whimper at the sudden loss of his fingers, choking into a gasp as he grips my ass. His eyes burn with desire as he bends forward, lifting my core to meet his mouth, his tongue plunging between my slickened folds in ownership.

Moaning, I grab the linen, squeezing it, my body building to explosion at the working of his tongue.

His strong hold secures my core in place at his mouth, his lips gently sucking my clit, as my body lashes from the onslaught of my orgasm. I’m gasping from the quakes of the mind-blowing eruption when he lowers me back down onto the bed.

Flashing me a satisfied smirk, he brushes his fingers along my soaked core, the desire in his gaze sinful as he reaches to slide them between my parted lips.

I suck greedily under his watchful stare.

“Breakfast in bed, sweetheart. Thank you for
that
gift.”

OH MY GOD
, I shake my head at all of the unread messages from Stacey, one from Mom.
Ugh, why did I turn my phone on?
I decide to go for Stacey’s first. I don’t want to ruin my mood.

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 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.