Текст книги "End of the Innocence"
Автор книги: Alessandra Torre
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
Riley nodded to him and extended a hand toward me. “It has been a pleasure. I hope to see you again.” I shook her hand, feeling enormously satisfied with myself, for my ability to overcome this daunting obstacle. I have officially set up a threesome. It was an unexpected entry to my bucket list. Then I moved through the doorway, stepping into the night and toward the purring Maybach.
♥♥♥
Beverly’s driver returned me to valet at Olives, and, five bucks later, I was behind the wheel of my SUV and heading to Brad’s. Getting the girl was only one part of the equation; I’d still have to figure out a way to get her into the upstairs guest room without Brad finding out. Ideally, I wanted to come home from dinner and have her waiting and ready in the guest room.
I didn’t want her to be in our bedroom. In case the night went awry, in case I couldn’t handle the image of him buried deep inside of her, in case this whole thing was a big mistake that I would spend the next ten years trying to forget ... I didn’t want our bedroom tainted, didn’t want to fall asleep on a bed that she had poisoned. Hopefully that wouldn’t be an issue, hopefully it would be sinfully hot, a moment I would replay countless times. But in case, just in case, I was going to have it held in the guest room. I had no issue with tainting that space.
The downstairs was dim and empty, one small light in the kitchen giving off enough juice for me to navigate through to the stairs. I kicked off my heels and jogged up the steps, the sound of running water hitting my ears. I entered the bedroom, dropping my purse and shoes on a chair, and stripping as I walked, leaving my clothes as they fell, a trail of dress, bra, and panties, I was naked as I pulled on the handle, hot steam contrasting with the cool feel of tile beneath my feet. Brad was in the shower, his gorgeous profile gently muted by fogged glass, his head tilted back under the spray.
I pulled the door wider, steam billowing out, the jets in full motion, and he turned at my approach, his mouth stretching into a full grin, his hand reaching out and capturing me, tugging me inside and against him in one smooth motion. “My baby,” he murmured, his arms wrapping around my waist, his mouth lowering to mine, a breathless, heady kiss that captured my mouth, his tongue teasing and claiming my own. The door swung shut and instantly fogged back up as his hands and mouth reminded me of where I belonged.
Chapter 42
In an empty office in Brad’s wing, I sealed the final envelope by hand, my tongue sweeping over the seal before I pressed it closed. Four envelopes, four applications. Four life paths sitting in the palm of my hand. I could dissolve them all so easily, drop them harmlessly in the wastebasket. Mailing them was planting seeds, setting myself up for an impossible decision that I would never be able to make. I had selected the schools carefully, ignoring Brad’s directive that I choose schools selfishly. We were getting married, joining our lives. I couldn’t make this big of a decision without considering him.
I was applying locally, to the school I had always assumed I would attend, my prior financial situation requiring me to attend an in-state public school with a strong financial aid package. Envelope Two was for University of Florida, a school that was close enough for me to return home on the weekends, a short flight or long drive away. Envelope Three was a stretch, the prestigious program at Dartmouth, a school unlikely to accept me, but one Brad had insisted I attempt. It had been his alma mater, and he seemed confident that his recommendation letter would hold the weight my average application needed. Envelope Four was another stretch—Stanford Law. Another completely selfish application, a school I could never afford, one that was too far away, nestled in the cliffs of the California coastline. But it was a school I had always wanted to attend, so I had painstakingly completed the application, hating every stroke I made of the pen.
I stood, tucking the envelopes under my arm, and walked to the elevators, headed to the mailroom to send off my four potential destinies. I pressed the down button and waited, hefting the envelopes in my hand, sudden stress weighing on me. I wouldn’t get in. I couldn’t get in. I wasn’t qualified, didn’t have the pedigree or prestigious undergrad diploma. But what if I did? What if I was accepted to all four? How would that affect our lives? I made a decision, on impulse, dividing the stack in two and pushing the Dartmouth and Stanford envelopes into the closest trashcan, weeks of Rebecca’s hard work crushed in two firm shoves. It was a rash decision, made against all sane thought processes. But so was my agreeing to fly out to Vegas with Brad four days after meeting him. So was marrying into the worst family in town. And with that shove? With that dump of those two way-too-heavy envelopes? I felt so much lighter. I could physically breathe again. The elevators opened and I stepped on, a happier, saner woman. It was a good decision. My decision. The elevators started their descent.
Chapter 43
Friday night came way too fast, the flurry of details occupying too much of my mind, so much that I couldn’t properly prepare, couldn’t properly dissect my conflicting emotions, my confusion over my feelings. When we fucked—when he had his hands and cock on me—it felt too good, he knew too much. How to touch, how to tease, how far to take me before delivering what I needed. It was unfair for me to hoard all that sexual pleasure, for me to covet his talents and deprive another woman from feeling that. I would envision him with someone else, his hands sliding and touching, curving and trailing, his body above, cock within, mouth upon. The thought was so graphic, so physically arousing that I would instantly buck, my back arching, mind exploding, pushed over the edge and into the star-filled epiphany that was my orgasm. It never failed to send me there, never failed to arouse and excite, the fantasy incredible in its utter lack of jealousy and possessiveness. How different would reality be? Or was it the aftermath I should be considering? The doubts, insecurities? How much of a role would they play?
The evening had arrived, and I would know soon enough what harm my actions would bring. I watched Brad over the curve of my wineglass and wondered.
He had not mentioned his birthday once, and I had given strict instructions to both Martha and Rebecca to not clue him into the fact that I was aware of it. I had acted oblivious, following Brad’s lead when he suggested we go to Centaur for dinner. Dressed in a short dress and heels, my sexiest bra and panty set underneath, I had manipulated our time slightly so that it would fit with my plans. Now we waited on our steaks, him leaned casually back in his seat, his eyes watching me. I fought a smile and set down my glass. “Stop studying me.”
“I can’t help it. You’re breathtaking.”
I leaned forward and captured his hand, raising it to my lips and kissing his palm lightly. “I bet you say that to all the girls,” I said playfully. He shook his head and cupped his hand, cradling my face before leaning forward and brushing his lips over mine.
There was a soft cough, and we turned to see our plated feast, served apologetically by a blushing twenty-something blonde. “Thank you.” I said, eyeing the steak. As much as my stomach wanted to dive in head first, I didn’t want to lug around a full stomach while naked next to January. I cut the steak in half and moved toward the lobster. There was no need to waste good food. I glanced at my watch. 9:30.
“Shit.” I widened my eyes in what I hoped was a plausible expression of dismay.
“What?”
“I never dropped my civics paper off. It’s due tonight.”
“Is it finished?” Brad brought a fresh piece of lobster to his mouth.
“Yeah. I finished it last week, which is why I haven’t even thought about it. When we leave here, can we swing by the house and grab it? If we drive over to campus, it’ll only take five minutes for me to run it inside the Economics building and put it under my professor’s door.”
He feigned irritation. “God, that sounds inconvenient. I didn’t sign on for all this when I decided to date a younger woman.”
“When you decided? You’ve been dating younger women for seven years.” I grinned at him. “Besides, I’ll withhold dessert if you are responsible for me getting anything other than an A in that class.”
He shot me a devious look. “I could just take my dessert.”
“Au contraire. I’m ninety-nine percent sure that’s illegal in this country.”
He scoffed. “Trust me, by the time I’m done, you’ll be begging me to violate every part of you.”
I rolled my eyes. “You overestimate your abilities, Mr. De Luca. And you are taking me on my ‘younger woman’ errand. It’s part of the fiancé obligation.”
His mouth twitched. “I’ll take you on your errand, but only because you look so beautiful, and because I can’t seem to tell you no.”
“Then you, Mr. De Luca. Better dig in. I plan on you needing a lot of energy tonight.” I watched his mouth curve, his fork move, and that delicious mouth open. My mind went crazy with thoughts of the evening, and I watched Brad signal for our waitress.
♥♥♥
There was, of course, no civics paper. Brad idled in the driveway, and I took the side entrance, leaving the lights off inside and walking through to the back, where I opened the doors to the large porch. Three porch chairs were occupied; their inhabitants rose at my presence. A girl moved forward, smiling briefly, and extended her hand. “January.”
She looked as devastatingly beautiful as her photos, no trick photography or Photoshop used to enhance her looks. I smiled, wondering if my nervous appraisal showed. “I’m Julia. Please come in.”
We moved as a group, two men, close in size to Brad, flanking the woman, their eyes moving everywhere, sizing up me and the situation in seconds. I led them upstairs and gestured toward the guest room. “If you would, please wait here, and we will be back in about a half-hour. Your security can sit outside the door; there are chairs in the bedroom that they can use. I left instructions in the room.” January nodded and one of the men spoke.
“I’m going to need to see ID for both you and Mr. De Luca.”
Right, ID. Riley had mentioned that, for the safety of the girl, proof of our identity would be required and would be documented. I left them in the hall and moved to the bedroom, closing the door and going to the closet, my fingers moving rapidly across the safe’s dial until it was open and our passports were in my hand. I locked the safe and returned, passing over the identification. “Here are our passports. Riley said you will return them after the event?”
He nodded, passing them to his partner, who reviewed them with a small penlight, then pocketed them.
I glanced downstairs, worried about the time we were taking. “We’ll be back shortly. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but there are cameras throughout the house, and an alarm will trip if anyone exits or enters. You’ll know when we return because the alarm will sound briefly, and I will turn on all of the lights.”
The man on the left grinned at me. “I understand and appreciate the information. We take no offense.”
I nodded to them and to the girl, then headed back downstairs, snagging my school bag on the way and arming the alarm before returning to Brad’s car.
I had chosen the diversion carefully, picking an errand that would take enough time for our food to settle, but one that would not leave Riley’s staff in the house unattended for too long of a period. I had worried about that detail of the plan, but Beverly had been quick to assure me of their trustworthiness. She had used The Montley House almost a dozen times, regarded every interaction a perfect transaction, and seemed to have boundless faith in every employee of The House.
My stomach was tight, a knot of rolling emotions as Brad’s car rumbled back from campus, his face calm, his hand reaching across the center console and holding my own. I forced my fingers to be loose, normal, as his thumb ran gently across my palm.
My other hand moved, reaching into my purse and wrapping around my phone. I could change my mind. Text and cancel this entire thing. January and the two protectors would leave, Brad and I would return, and we would go upstairs and have solo, break-the-bed sex. That would be enough. We were enough. We had proved that, again and again, with night after night of incredible makemytoescurl fucking. The threesomes, the parties, those were fairy dust sprinkled on the magic that we were, a way to remind us of the incredibleness of what we share.
Then Brad turned down Estate Drive, which led home. Home. Amazing that I already thought of it in that way. In four short months it would be. I would haul in boxes and hangers and picture frames, and it would go from his to ours. The Estate Drive sign meant time was up, and I couldn’t possibly text anyone, cancel anything now. I needed to put on my game face and stop being insecure. I hadn’t started dating this man, hadn’t agreed to marry this man, without being confident of my sexual ability. And now, with the blonde waiting upstairs, I had the opportunity to give him the best birthday present of his life. I allowed excitement in, the nervous anticipation turning into arousal, and grinned, the expression hidden in the dark car. I reached for the door handle as he put the car in park.
Chapter 44
Brad smiled. It had been a good birthday. No mess, no fuss, no drama. A great dinner at Centaur with the woman who had stolen his heart. And now, home. Before, it had been simply a house, a place where he bedded women, ate Martha’s cooking, and slept. Now, with Julia’s light and warmth and messy adorableness, it had become more. He had begged, bribed, and seduced—all in an attempt to get her to move in. But she had stubbornly resisted, returning most nights to the hovel she called a home. And every night she slept away from him, he worried. He unlocked the door, disengaging the alarm, and felt the presence of her pass behind him, her hands flicking on lights as her heels clicked through the kitchen.
She moved perfectly, his eyes following her steps, the curves of her body underneath her dress, her shapely legs on perfect display atop sexy heels. He locked the door and caught up to her as she rounded the corner, heading for the stairs.
“Whoa,” he whispered into her neck, inhaling the scent of her as his hands wrapped around her waist and traveled up the front of her dress. His mouth nuzzled her neck and planted soft kisses on her fragrant skin.
“Brad,” she whispered, spinning from him and walking backward toward the stairs. “You can finish that upstairs.”
“I can’t wait that long,” he said gruffly, catching her hand and pulling her tightly to him. He lowered his mouth to hers, silencing her response, his hands tugging on the straps of her dress quickly, the material following the path of the straps, her lace-covered breasts quickly exposed to his hands. She groaned, her chest heaving once underneath his mouth, her hands pushing on his chest.
“Stop,” she said breathlessly, pulling up her dress until her perfect breasts were once again hidden. “Just wait a sec. I need something from upstairs.”
Before he could formulate a response, she was gone, the flash of red soles moving quicker than humanly possible up the staircase. He followed closely, his eyes on the curve of her ass. He grinned, reaching a hand up to grab her when he reached the landing and everything stopped at the sight of two men.
♥♥♥
I heard Brad behind me, getting closer, and I could tell you without looking that he would be reaching for me, intent on getting his hands on some part of my body. I felt triumphant when I reached the top landing untouched, and moved toward the guest room, my smile acknowledging the men that sat outside the door. Brad’s voice stopped me instantly, his tone one I had never heard from him. “Julia. Go to Martha’s.” I froze mid-step and turned to him.
His eyes were not on me, but on the two suits, the large bodyguards who flanked either side of the guest room door, seated in the two casual chairs that typically occupied the sitting area of the guest room. I instantly understood his concern and cursed my own lack of foresight. The two men rose at Brad’s tone, their stance one of combative preparation.
I moved three steps, until I stood in front of Brad and blocked his line of sight. His eyes flickered to me briefly, clouds of worry. “Brad, it’s okay. I called them here. They are fine.” My words took a moment to register, his eyes watching them instead of me, but then confusion crossed his handsome face, and his eyes met mine again.
I smiled, placing my hands gently on his chest and kissed his cheek. “Relax,” I whispered. Then I turned, stepping through the men and to the guest room, where I swung the door open wide for Brad’s eyes.
The room was dim but not dark, a big enough room that the bed was set back against a far wall, the lit candles revealing enough: glowing skin, blonde hair, porcelain features – the package lounged atop a cream duvet. Brad’s frame relaxed a fraction, and he glanced at the men with new understanding, then his gaze settled on my face, a look of confusion affecting his features in an adorable way I had never seen.
“Happy birthday,” I whispered and walked ahead of him, into the dark room, unzipping my dress as I walked.
Chapter 45
There was a click, and I turned to see Brad shut the door, his eyes slowly sweeping over me, surveying the bed, his eyes dark and unreadable. Then they returned to me, and he moved only one step forward, his hands pulling off his jacket, tossing it aside, then moving to his belt, the slow, deliberate unbuckling of leather causing my breath to hitch.
A million thoughts ran through my head. What do I do? Do I get on the bed with her? Approach him? Sit in the chair?
“Turn around.” Brad stepped closer, his eyes on mine, the pull of his stare too great to break, and I turned my back to him slowly, hating to break the eye contact.
His hand swept down my bare back, pulling my zipper farther, to the place I couldn’t take it, his hands spreading the dress over my shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. “Keep the heels on,” he muttered.
“Do you want me to watch?” I said the words softly, looking over my shoulder at him. I was almost afraid of the answer. Afraid because even I didn’t even know what I wanted. I glanced at the girl still on the bed, her body stretched, on her side, expression quiet, eyes open. Watching. Our eyes met and she smiled. A friendly, reassuring expression. It will be okay. Trust me.
He shook his head. “I’m not ever, as long as I live, going to have an orgasm without your hand on my cock, your mouth on my lips. If you want to bring in another girl, that is fine. But you are not watching. I’m not settling for second best when you are here.” He ran his hand down my back, his hand leaving my skin for a moment before coming back to my ass with one, firm slap, the sensation catching me off guard, and I jumped, turning my head to him, caught off guard by the dark yet playful look in his eyes. “Now get on the bed before you are the death of me.”
I smiled shyly at the girl as I climbed upon the bed, her long limbs rolling over as she crawled to her knees, making room. She reached out a tentative hand, running it softly over my skin, the touch so foreign, so soft and delicate. “You are beautiful,” she whispered, her hand trailing over and across my back and down my arm.
“So are you.”
There was the metal sound of a buckle, and I turned to see Brad unzipping his pants, his shirt removed, his weight joining us on the bed as he knee-walked forward, settling back into pillows, sliding in between us. “Come here, baby,” he said. “Straddle me.”
I did, my ass settling into the hard bridge of his stomach, his head tilting up to look into my eyes. “You didn’t need to do this.”
“I wanted to,” I said softly, running my hands up the hard muscles of his chest.
“I get off pleasing you, watching you pleased. Another girl ... I don’t want this if you don’t enjoy it.”
“I want to try it. We can discuss the rest later.”
“Just look at me if you are uncomfortable. I’ll know. I’ll stop.” His hand played with the small of my back before curving down and squeezing my ass. “You nervous?”
I laughed, the question releasing some of my tension. “A little.”
“Don’t be. This is just like the others.” He sat up slightly, his arms wrapping around my waist, his mouth laying a kiss against my neck. “It’s about you and pleasure.”
I pushed him down, not liking where this was going. “No. This is about your birthday, and rocking your old man world.”
He laughed, letting me push him, settling back against the pillows. “Easy, baby. You can’t call me an old man on my birthday. And,” he said, his voice darkening, “you’re doing a lot of ordering around considering it’s my birthday. Kiss me.”
I pursed my lips, shot him a look I knew he loved, one that spat fire and conceded defeat, and leaned back down, caught off guard when he captured my hands and pulled them together behind me, his large hand easily pinning them to my back.
“What’s her name?” he asked, his mouth inches from mine.
“January.”
“January, pull out my cock, please.”
