The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] (45 page)

“It’s not for them to decide. You can’t run from this, Aby.”

My sobbing gaze darts to his. “I’m not running,” I tremble at the entire notion.

“You need to talk to Alex.”

I let out a quiet defeated snicker, “I’ll have a mere twelve hours—minus sleep time—to do that.” Taking in Andrew’s questioning expression, I explain, “I received a text from him earlier. He has to leave tomorrow morning for script adjustment meetings in New York. He doesn’t even get back from LA until late tonight.”

“Then maybe you should wait to talk when he gets back from New York.”

Yeah . . . maybe,
I internalize his suggestion, staring off into space for who knows how long before I snap back to the present, lifting my empty wine glass for a refill.

“OKAY, THAT’S ENOUGH for you,” Andrew takes the almost empty bottle from my hands, leaving me with my half-full glass of mind-numbing potion.

“Oh, I beg to differ, Mr. Davies.” Though my rather seductive slurring of his name slightly rings a little truth to his words.
Ha!
As if anyone could compare to my gorgeous actor dream-man . . .
My drunken insinuation makes me take another mouthful of wine as I ogle my neighbour. He certainly is handsome. But I’m in love with Alex
. . .

I’m in
love
with Alex. Son of a bitch.
Why did I have to fall in love?
Damn you Alexander the Great. “
You can join the rest of the gang under the bus, Mr. Tate! Damn all of you!”

The sudden confusion, and slight concern, flashing across Andrew’s face makes me pout a little. Maybe, I have had enough to drink.

“Aby, you’re freaking me out. Come on, that’s it. Let’s go make some coffee. You need to clear your head. You have a lot to think about.”

“Ya THINK?!” I’m coherent enough to note my sarcastic slur as he wraps his arm around my waist to help me up from the sofa. Accepting his support, I brace myself around his shoulder, wincing at how much I confessed to him.
Damn inhibitions.

Humph . . .
I remember thinking that same thing not too long ago.
Funny how things come full circle. Damn. I really have a problem lately spewing shit to men . . . whilst drinking.
Whilst . . . that’s a funny word.
“Hee hee hee.”

Andrew leads me towards the stairs, chuckling at my random laughter, the opening of the front door bringing us to a halt. Turning, we to look towards the unannounced visitor.

“Alex!” I pull myself from Andrew’s hold, skipping towards Alex in the hallway. Jumping up into his arms, I wrap my legs around his waist. “I’ve mish-ed you, baby,” I attack his mouth, his arms quickly securing me from falling off him onto the floor.

He leaves me wanting as he pulls away, gently laying me on my feet. “You’ve been drinking?” he looks around me towards Andrew in question. With my pouting returned, I turn and follow his gaze.

Andrew raises his hands in protested innocence, “I was just taking Aby up to the kitchen to make some much needed coffee.”

“I see,” Alex looks down at me as though I’ve done something wrong.

Humph.
I’m the only one who
hasn’t
done anything wrong.
Right?
Shit, I don’t even know anymore.
Where’s my glass of wine.
Pout in full swing, I leave Alex, passing Andrew to make my way back to the sofa.

Wine back in hand, I watch the two hunks speak, no longer paying attention to their conversation. I’m lost in my sudden heated desire towards my sexy-as-shit boyfriend, tracing my finger along the rim of my glass, consciously running my tongue across my lips as I watch them head towards the door.
Hurry up and leave cute neighbour. I’ve got plans for my man . . .

Alex returns, making his way towards me on the sofa.

“Yay, he’s gone! Come here sexy,” I smile seductively, laying my wine glass on the coffee table—
I think,
I wasn’t really looking—and reach my arms out towards him.

Sitting down beside me, he takes my outstretched hands, holding them in my lap. “I went to the office to surprise you. You weren’t there . . . ”

“Nope. I’m he-re.”

“Yes, I see that. I tried to reach you on your cell . . . ”

“Yeah . . . that’s there,” I pull my hand from his hold, pointing towards my disassembled phone on the floor.

“Do you want to tell me what happened, please?”

Sure baby. Later. No more talking.
Attempting to shut him up, I bounce from my seat to straddle him, diving towards his glorious lips.

Cupping my face, he stops me. “Aby, I need to know you’re okay. Thomas told me about this morning. I . . . ”

I reach for his halting fingers, pulling them from my face to continue my pursuit, tracing my tongue along his lips between my heated reply, “Alex Tate . . . I’m so amazingly great now that you’re home. And I’m feeling especially greater thanks to my friend
Vino.
And, I’ll be greatly greatest once you shut up and fuck me,” I grab for his cock, eliciting his released moan.

Finally relenting, he meets the fierce invasion of my lips and tongue. Bubbling over with desire, I pull at every inch of him. I want him, need him, like he’s my own addictive escape.

Pulling away, his breaths laboured, he holds my face, staring deeply into my eyes, “I’m not going to fuck you, Aby. I’m going to make love to you.” I melt into his intoxicating baby-blues, feeling drunk with love.

Grabbing my ass to lift me, my legs instinctively wrap around him as he stands, carrying me towards the stairs. In my semi-drunken haze, I barely register our travels before he lays me down gently on the bed. Looking down at me, his eyes fill with a hint of concern, before flashing to desire—a desire that pulls him to me, his body gliding atop mine.

Leaning over me, his weight resting on his arm, he caresses my cheek. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, brushing my hair away from my face. “I’ve missed you.”

“Show me . . . ” I’m overcome with my craving for him. I need him inside me, fucking away my torment. I desperately need to lose myself in the feel of him filling me. Staring at the man I’ve fallen in love with, I try to push all thoughts of today aside. I need him to take it all away.

Sliding his hand along my hip and thigh, he squeezes appreciatively, his fingers branding me with each touch. We’re not even naked and I’m wriggling wildly with desire, my pussy clenching in absolute need. Slipping his thumbs inside the waistband of my pants and thong, he pulls them leisurely down my hips, leaning back to slide the garments off my legs, discarding them to the floor.

His eyes bore down at my nakedness, clearly witnessing the evidence of my desire coating my inner thighs, genuine appreciation glittering in his gaze. His lazy perusal of my body is driving me insane. Pleadingly, I lift my hips towards him, spreading my legs further, silently asking—no begging—for him to take me to
that place.
To make me forget.

Kissing his way up my legs, he shifts me further up the bed. The feel of his weight working its way up my body sends spikes of pleasure through me. I sigh in delight, my core pulsing to its own beat as I relish in his path along my inner thighs. His breath heats my skin, provoking a wanton moan to escape my lips. I need his mouth on me. I need his expert tongue fucking inside me, licking and sucking on my clit. But his pace is slow. Too slow. I wasn’t kidding when I said I needed him to fuck me. And clearly he wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to make love, if his soft, gentle kisses are any indication. Reaching for him, I try to gain measure on his shirt covered body to pull him where I need him.

“Shhh, Aby,” he whispers between kisses, bypassing my aching core to kiss along my lower tummy, his hold effectively ceasing my erratic gyrations.

In my wantonness, I slide my fingers through his hair, grabbing tight, trying to direct him where I need him most. “Alex, touch me!” I demand in frustration, my hips rising in hopes of spurring his speed.

Leaning back on his haunches, he stares down at me, my thighs spread before him by the weight of his hands holding me in place. Lifting his finger to his lips, his gaze holds mine, “Aby, shhh . . . or I’ll stop.”

Stop? No!
He isn’t going to stop—he’s simply stating his demands. This is
his
show. I’m merely a pawn, desperate to have him any way I can get him.

His seductive gaze and knowing grin at my acquiescence sends a shiver through me. Capitulating to him, I cease moving, trying desperately to control my eagerness. “Mmmm . . . that’s better, baby,” he whispers. “Take your shirt off, sweetheart.”

I‘m a slave to his request, tugging my shirt above my head, pulling my bra off with deft fingers. His eyes roam my exposed flesh, stopping to take in my puckered nipples.

Taking my hands in his, he places them lightly above my head. “Keep them there,” he states, his expression garnering no protest from me.

His continued stare is my undoing. Closing my eyes, I try to contain my desperation. This is not what I wanted. What I needed. He has this way of making me feel wholly cherished, yet right now I need him to
take
me. I need it fast, frenzied, out of control. I need him to assuage his desires quickly, to use me however he sees fit.

“Open your eyes.”

I can’t look at him. I can’t stare into his stunning baby-blue eyes knowing I may lose him. I’m in too deep already. I can’t make love to him right now. I need raw. I’ll never be able to handle falling for him harder than I already have. I’ll never recover after I’ve lost him.

“Aby, open them,” he demands, his tone forceful. Reluctantly, I open my eyes to his stunning form, sitting between my widespread legs, intensity in his gaze. “Keep them on me. I want you with me,” he whispers, dropping his mouth to my exposed breasts. His tongue lightly flicks over my distended nipple, sending spikes of pleasure to my womb. I watch as he sucks my nipple into his mouth, his gorgeous eyes absorbing my every reaction. Moaning his name, I drop my head back to the bed, closing my eyes in delight. “Your eyes, baby.”

Lifting my head at his command, I’m forced to watch as he switches to treat my other nipple with the same sweet torture, licking and sucking until it feels ready to burst. The throbbing in my clit, the pulsating emptiness of my pussy, pushes me closer to my much-needed orgasm. I want to lose myself in the pleasure, but he won’t let me, his eyes never leaving mine, maintaining our connection.

Sitting upright, he slides his thumbs along my wetness, spreading my folds to his gaze before returning his eyes to mine, “You’re ready for me, sweetheart.”

“Y-yes . . . take me,” I beg, my eyes pleading.

“Not yet. I want to savour you. I’ve been thinking about you for days. I need to feel you. Feel you come apart in my arms,” his words emit a moan from my lips.

Swiping his thumb along my engorged clit, I shudder helplessly, lost to the sensations. Fisting the edge of the pillow in my grip, watching his eyes glaze over with lust, I fight the urge to reach for him. The feel of his fingers sliding inside me almost sends me over the edge, my breath quickening, my whimpers of need filling the silence. His knowing fingers caress my darkened core, sliding along my g-spot.

“Come for me, baby. I want to watch you as you fall. Keep your eyes on me,” he continues the lazy glide of his thumb across my hyper-sensitive clit. I nearly combust from the onslaught, his fingers picking up speed inside me, plunging further into my depths. His free hand tugs gently on my nipple, the dual sensations causing me to plummet, my orgasm rushing through my body like a tidal wave.

I scream his name, our gaze never faltering.

“That’s it. Come for me.”

Shuddering, I melt into his eyes. The connection so intense, I feel my emotions spiralling out of control, everything inside me coming apart at the seams. With a strength I didn’t know I possessed, I push the emotions aside, leaning up to grab his nape, pulling him towards me for a kiss. Our tongues meld, our breaths fanning each other. Desperately, I taste the deepest recesses of his mouth, grinding myself against him.

Tearing his mouth from mine, our breaths jagged, he rushes to pull off his clothes, tossing them to the floor before coming over top of me. Seeking his weight, I grip his broad shoulders, pushing my pelvis towards him, his thickness brushing along my core. He teases me with a gentle slide along my sensitive clit, the wetness of my orgasm coating his shaft. My fervor spikes with renewed lust at the pressure, my pussy empty and desperately needing to be filled.

Cradling my face, he grazes his lips along my jaw. His slow, gentle pace driving me wild. “Alex . . . now . . . ” I beg, closing my eyes in euphoric need.

“I’m here, Aby. I’ve got you,” he aligns his cock with my waiting core, pushing slightly inside, the broad head breaching my slick folds. I pant at the feel of him filling me, losing myself in the moment I’ve been craving, the escape I need. “Look at me,” he demands, tugging gently on my hair.

Opening my eyes to his gaze, I stare, mesmerized in desperation as his cock slowly pushes forward. Fully seated inside, he begins a slow, measured stroke outwards, before plunging back in. Ensnared by his watchful eyes, I moan at the delicious feel of him. I can feel every ridge, every inch of his manhood rubbing along my sensitive nerves. I can’t take the intensity. I want to lose myself in the pleasure, but I’m caught in his intense gaze.