Take a Bow (The Perfect Plans Series Book 2) (18 page)

“ABY, I JUST can’t get over this place. It’s breathtaking. Stunning,” Beth swoons, staring out at our view of the ocean. “Does the word
jealousy
work as a descriptive?” she laughs, and I can’t help but smile. “You know what? I think I’m due for a mid-life crisis, I’m leaving Kevin alone with the kiddies and spending a month here to find myself a delicious playboy actor,” she spins around, taking in my stunned gaze, “What?”

I can’t believe she just said that.

Concern and regret spill from her eyes, “Oh crap, Abs, I didn’t mean anything…”

“I know,” I smile on a deep breath. It was an innocent statement - coming from Beth’s lips, anyway. Had it been my mother…it would have been a totally different, passive-aggressive, situation. Regardless, the judgmental vibe rubs at my insecurities a little. Something I’m still working on, clearly. “Speaking of my niece and nephew,” I brush it off, “…are they staying with Kevin’s parents? It would have been so nice to see them.”

“Oh, gawd,” she rolls her eyes, “…if you had seen the look on Kevin’s mom’s face when we told her we were coming here for Thanksgiving. Needless to say it was either leave them with their grandparents, or not go. An
adult
vacation? Yes please!”

“You and Kevin deserve a little break,” my smile is sincere, but not that Beth would notice. I lost her gaze over my shoulder just as her brow scrunched in response to whatever’s caught her attention.

“Ummm…Abs, maybe you should go rein Mom in.” I follow her gaze to find our mother fretting around the cook Alex has hired to prepare our feast. “I think she’s going to have a lack-of-control coronary.”

Ugh,
I roll my eyes, walking towards her. “Mom…Stop it,” I slap her hand lightly from an attempt to stir the gravy. “You are supposed to be enjoying yourself. Go mingle.”

“I brought savory, Aby, sweety,” she leans closer to whisper, “…I don’t think she even bothered using it,” she nods towards the dressing prepared in a bowl, her eyes wide with dramatic appall.

I look to my side for Beth’s assistance, only to find she’s flown the coop.
Traitor
.

“There you are, Dianne,” Miriam saves me from having to talk my neurotic mother down off her ledge - under the fleeting glances of the cook to boot. “I remember the first time Alex hired someone to cater for me,” she continues, clearly hip to my torment. “It was a belated Christmas get-together, since he was unable to make it home for the holidays,” she smiles at the memory. “He wanted to treat me to a day away from the madness of the kitchen, but they had to all but tie my hands together to keep me from intervening. It’s something you will get used to,” she adds, leading my oddly silent, though appreciatively smiling, mother towards the living room.

I do note the cook’s sigh of relief with a slight inconspicuous rolling of her eyes, but I’m too shocked to enjoy the humor of it. I’m still stuck on the ‘something you will get used to’ part.
Does Alex’s mom believe I will be in his life long enough to warrant getting used to all of this?
That’s mighty presumptuous. Assumptions are not good…but,
holy crow…was it Alex that gave her that impression?

“Knock, knock, we made it!”

Oh my God!
“Stacey?” I run for the front door to find Stacey and Thomas being greeted by all.

“Surprise, babe!” she beams, meeting me for a hug.

“Perfect timing, my man,” Alex shakes Thomas’s hand.

“Yes, we’re just about to sit down for dinner,” Mom adds, hugging Stacey.

“So he got you, huh?” Stacey’s turns to me, her smile ear-to-ear as she takes in my elated shock to yet another surprise.

Did he ever
, I look towards him, introducing Thomas to his family.

“Quite the sneaky planner, that man of yours,” she nudges me. “Wait until tomorrow night! The four of us are hitting the town…Par-
tay
, baby.”

“Best Thanksgiving ever,” I can’t wipe the smile off my face, literally scrunching in delight.

“Best ever,” she agrees, linking my arm to walk into the dining room.

This is all so amazing. I’m overwhelmed with Alex’s thoughtfulness, looking towards him as he laughs with our families.

His eyes catch mine, stealing my breath in the brief moment of our silent loving exchange.
I love you
, he mouths, nearly melting me to the floor.

I watch in awe as he makes his way around the table to my side, pulling out my chair to seat me, before sitting to my left. The sudden squeeze of his hand on my thigh pulls my gaze, a flash of pink lace teasing from between his fingers before disappearing with his hand into his pocket.

My wide eyes dart to his, the vision I find enough to make me combust from the heat…

Sin. Perfect, angelic sin.

“DAMMIT WOMAN, CONTROL your
whore
-mones, slut. You look about ready to get your fuck on. I know Alex is
dreamy
and all, but I’ve heard exhibitionism is frowned upon in public,” Stacey shoves my shoulder, effectively halting my stare of Alex’s ass as I trail his journey to the bar.

“You’re one to talk Tramp-Express. And I can’t help myself,” I sigh dramatically on a laugh, turning back to her. “He’s just so…”

“Fuckable? Yes, my dear, he is. As is Thomas,” she turns back to our men, now leaning against the bar placing our drink orders. “But you need to get a grip, sugarplum. Quiet down your slut just a tad, she’s getting loud. Have I not taught you anything? Darlin’, learn how to keep those hooker tendencies in check - you’re about as cool as a hand job on a honeymoon over here.”

I laugh out loud. “Stacey, you kill me.”

“Alex’s big cock will be
killing
you later, if his glances over here are any indication. He’s as bad as you are. He’s been eye-fucking the shit out of you all night. At least you’re both consistent.”

“He has?” I turn to glance back at the bar, slightly intrigued by her statement, catching a glimpse of Alex’s gaze locked on mine. Flashing me a flirty smile, he turns back to Thomas.

Oddly, I hadn’t noticed his lustful looks. Mind you, I
am
drunk. And that may just be the understatement of the century. More like wasted. Yet, so is Alex. It’s been quite entertaining watching his progression throughout the evening; eyes glazing over, his perfectly coiffed curls looking a little more rumpled than usual.

“Oh,
come on
,” Stacey jars me from my thoughts. “Don’t even act like his little looks aren’t giving you butterflies in your vagina. It’s probably why you’re struggling to keep your inner whore at bay. Not that
I’d
particularly mind you two humping like rabbits on this table, but I would suspect that the paparazzi or his cray-cray fans may have something different to say about it. So, quit it.”

“Alright, alright,” I drawl dramatically for effect, taking the last swig of my beer. “God, I miss you Stace. I’m so glad you and Thomas came. Talk about a surprise.”

“I miss you, too, doll. It’s been weird not having you around when I’m in London…I just…Goddammit, don’t make me drunk cry! It’s like ugly cry on crack. You know I fucking hate that.”

“Awe, shnookums, don’t drunk cry,” I pat her hand on the table, “It’s not a good look on you,” I tease, laughing at her playful glare. “Seriously, though, I know how you feel. But, this move to L.A.
has
been amazing.
Alex
has been amazing. Living together…it’s out of this world. And I can’t believe he planned the whole Thanksgiving get together for our families. Blows my mind.”

“Yeah, I hear yeah, sister. You’re like legit in love.”

“I guess we are,” I smile, turning back to our men, making their way towards the table.

“Your drinks are served, me ladies,” Thomas drawls, laying our drinks down with an eloquent bow.

“Why, thank you kind sir,” I play in return, smiling as Alex takes his seat beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

Leaning into him, I practically melt as he places a quick kiss to my cheek, quickly noting Stacey’s stink eye screaming ‘CALM THE FUCK DOWN’ from across the table. I stick my tongue out at her in defiance.

“Hmmm, do I detect some rivalry, ladies?” Thomas inquires.

“No, no,” Stacey interjects, flashing Thomas a sweet and innocent gaze, batting her eye lashes theatrically, “I was simply telepathically reminding Aby to keep her vagina in her pants. Or skirt, I should say.”

“Stacey!” I squeal on a laugh, as Alex spews a bit of the beer he just swallowed, pulling his arm from around my shoulders to wipe the dribbles off his chin.

Raucous laughter ensues as Stacey relays her sound advice about the poor form involved in having sex on the table in the middle of a crowded club.

I catch a glimpse of Alex’s intrigued brow, his sexy drunken lips parted as he stares at me amid Stacey’s rant, “So, I told her that if they don’t stop eye-fucking each other across the room, I’ll open a can of whoop ass,” she explains to Thomas, who chuckles and flashes me a quick wink.

Alex’s hand on my bare thigh, inches higher and higher up my leg beneath my skirt, thankfully hidden under the table. My gaze instantly travels to the patrons surrounding us and I breathe a sigh of relief to see that his touches are unbeknownst to prying eyes.

His fingers slide between my thighs, spreading them, leaving a trail of lust-filled goose bumps in their wake. I try like hell to stay focused on Stacey, to control my breathing, but as his teasing touch inches closer and closer to my aching core, my pulse kicks into high gear. It’s a dizzying test of constraint through our silent, avid show of attention towards Stacey and Thomas amid their back and forth quibbles; perfectly displayed interest, despite his fingers having met with my soaked thong.

From the corner of my eye, I note Alex’s chest heave, expelling a large breath, clearly turned on by my avid wetness. I want to turn to him, kiss him, devour him. But I can’t. I don’t want to give away what he’s doing anymore than I want him to stop. Leaving me struck still, having to pretend that his middle finger didn’t just glide beneath the lace shield of my hungry core.

It takes everything in me to hold back my moan as his finger fills me, pushing hard to curl up inside. Inadvertently, I drop my hand to my lap, inconspicuously holding him in place, desperate for him to finish what he’s started.

His molten gaze lures my own, his eyes flashing with mischief, heat, longing. Unable to turn away, I’m entranced, numb to the ability of formulating a single word.

“Thomas, let’s go for a ciggy,” Stacey suggests. “Back in a sec,” she adds, presumably departing with Thomas in tow. Whether they actually left or not is neither apparent nor relevant as Alex and I stare, our gazes locked heatedly.

The sudden silence at our table suggests they have, and I release my held breath, closing my eyes in pleasure as Alex adds a second finger inside me, his movements quickening as his fingers fuck into me, hitting every sensitive nerve. The pounding base from the dance track hits me in the dim, quiet euphoric bubble of our booth, echoing his sinful wrath of pleasure at my core.

“Yes, baby,” he leans in to whisper at my ear, “…let me feel it,” he angles his body slightly to protect our risqué naughtiness from view.

“Oh god,” I moan, dropping my head to his shoulder. His scent alone could make me come, and I inhale deeply, relishing in his masculine essence of this man.

“That’s it. Fall, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” his inviting whispers course through the tensing of my body as I near the edge.

His words are my undoing. I clench and quiver around his digits, my core tightening, plummeting into release.

Pulling my face into his chest, he shields my moans as my orgasm overtakes me, soaking his fingers.

“Home. Now,” his husky growl is like an aftershock as I quiver in his arms.

“INSIDE,” ALEX ORDERS, pushing the door open to crash against the wall inside, his aggressive commanding tone sending shivers along my core.

The sexual need ricocheting between us is palpable, our inebriation fueling our need to fuck, and fuck hard. A burning fire looms just under the surface as he stares at me with lust-fueled eyes, the sheer magnitude of his display effectively stunning me in place, unable to move, staring at the beauty of it.