Текст книги "Strictly Temporary Volume One"

Автор книги: Ella Fox

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 7 страниц)

I beam at him like a lovesick teenager as we walk hand in hand to his car, a beautiful black Tesla that looks like a sexy dream. When he opens the passenger door and helps me in, I damn near swoon. Who knew that there were still gentleman alive and well in today’s world?

Once he’s got me settled in he shuts the door and walks around the car to get in himself. I let out a little moan as he does for two reasons: one, he looks like a god of sex in his suit and two, his car smells like him. Whatever cologne he wears has to have a pheromone or something in it because it goes right to my core and makes me crazy.

It doesn’t help that I’m replaying what he said to me in my apartment on a loop. The idea of his mouth on my sex is enough to make me wetter than I’ve ever been in my life. Shifting in my seat, I try to think of things that don’t make me want to climb into his lap and ride him like an insane woman.

Reaching out, Exton picks my left hand up from my lap and entwines our fingers. “What’re you thinking about, Beautiful?”

Thank goodness we’re in a darkened car because I know my face is flushing. “I was just thinking about dinner,” I answer.

Lifting our hands, he kisses the back of mine and then draws some kind of pattern on it with his tongue. Holding in a gasp I clench my inner muscles as I feel myself go from just wet to soaked.

“I’m thinking about eating too,” he growls. “Tonight I’m going to spread those sweet legs and eat your pussy like I’ve been desperate to do since the night we met. I’m dying to taste you, Beautiful. Are you ready to let me fuck you with my tongue?”

Squeezing his hand, I let out a helpless sound as I nod.

“Are you wet right now, baby?”

I let out a little gasp that ends with, “Yes.”

Letting go of my hand, he sets his hand on my knee and starts sliding his finger slowly—so incredibly slowly—up my thigh. “Can I taste?”

Gasping, I look over at him in shock. “Here?”

Pushing my dress up just enough to grant access, he slides his fingers over my panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he says huskily. “Say yes. Let me make you come.”

I’d tell him he could have all of my worldly goods right now if he asked.

“Yesss,” I sigh out on a moan.

A strangled cry escapes me as he pushes my panties aside and slides his fingers over my clit. “Oh shit,” he groans. “I didn’t think you could get sexier but feeling this little bit of hair makes me want you more. Fuck! I want to see it, need to taste it. I want to know every fucking inch of your tight, hot pussy.”

Arching my back, I push myself against his fingers.

There’s something about being in this small enclosed space, his fingers on my pussy as other cars fly by, that is making me so hot that I feel I might just combust. Spreading my legs as wide as I can, I cry out when he slides a finger inside of me and starts gliding it in and out while his thumb continues to work my clit. I never make myself feel as good when I do this myself, ever.

Letting out a yell of impatience, I damn near cry as he pulls his hand away. Turning to ask why he’s stopped, I almost stop breathing when he sucks the finger that was just inside of me.

“Goddammit it,” he growls. Bringing his finger out of his mouth, he grabs the steering wheel in a death grip with both hands.

I let out a little “Oh,” sound as he floors it, then lose the ability to think when he pulls over to the side of the road with a squeal of brakes and tires.

There isn’t even time to ask him what he’s doing. Unbuckling his seatbelt he reaches out his left arm and then guides my face to his. His mouth meets mine in a kiss that is pure sex at the same moment that his hand pushes my panties back to the side so that he can start using his fingers on me again.

The taste of me on his lips is like an aphrodisiac and I thrust against his hand frantically as our tongues duel. Pulling out the one finger he’s been working inside of me, he slides back in with two and starts working my pussy hard. His thumb is hitting just the right spot and I’m so close I can barely breathe.

Curling his fingers inside of me, he rubs against a spot that I’ve never found myself. Pulling my mouth away from his, I let out a strangled sound as my orgasm slams into me. “Exton, Exton, Exton,” I chant as my head rocks back and forth and his fingers just keep plunging in and out of me.

“Again, baby. Again.”

Shaking my head frantically I cry out. “I can’t! I can never—”

“You do now. Fuck my fingers, Arden. Think about how my cock is going to stretch this pussy so fucking good. I’m going to go hard, baby. You’ll scream so fucking loud and you’ll beg for me to stop, then not to stop, as you come over and over again. You’re so fucking wet, I know you need to come again. Feel that pussy clenching so tight—”

I come again on a wave of pleasure that is so extreme it almost hurts. This time I scream, and he groans so loud at the sound that I would have to be an idiot not to know how turned on he is right now. I shiver as he pulls his fingers out and watch in some kind of haze as he opens his glove compartment and digs around for a minute.

“Ah ha,” he says triumphantly as he holds up a travel size tissue pack. I’m completely stunned as he takes care of me before pulling my panties over so that they’re back in place. Dropping soft kisses around my face, he lets me come down in silence.

“Thank you for that, Beautiful. That was amazing.”

Leaning into him, I laugh softly. “It was, but I feel like I should take care of—”

Cutting me off he growls, “I wouldn’t be able to stop if you put your hands on me. Don’t worry baby. I’ll be fine by the time we get to the restaurant. Later tonight, though . . . fuck. If I think about it I’ll probably break the goddamn steering wheel.”

“You’re hilarious,” I laugh.

“I’m serious. You have no idea what you do to me.”

Cupping my face, he turns me so that we’re face to face. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much I as want you—not even close. I’ve never needed anyone at all, but I need you. Someday soon you’ll understand that.”

Dropping a soft kiss on my lips, he pulls away and turns the car back on, leaving me in a stunned silence as he merges back into traffic. Is it really possible that he feels the way that I do? I just don’t know if I can let down my guard enough to really let him in. I’m infatuated and very interested in him—clearly he gets to me sexually in a way no one ever has—but does he see this going somewhere serious? Or is he playing me to get what he wants?

Grabbing my small makeup kit from my clutch, I quickly fix my lipstick and make sure that my hair is still okay. Opening the side pocket of my bag I let out a sound of victory when I pull out a plastic baggy with a few makeup removing towelettes. Opening one, I pass it to Exton.

“What’s this for?”

It’s slightly embarrassing but totally necessary. “You need to wipe your hand . . . after what just happened.”

Chuckling softly he says, “Hold the wheel for a second and I’ll take care of it.”

The Tesla drives so smoothly that it’s almost like I don’t even need to hold it at all. Retaking the wheel, Exton gives me a quick smile before turning his full attention back to the freeway. I get lost in thought as I play the memory of what just happened over in my head. I can hardly believe any of that just happened to me, the most boring girl on earth.

“We’re here, Beautiful. Don’t open the door; I’ll come around for you. Remember to breathe—there are photographers here.”

I startle at his words because I was so deep in thought that I completely forgot we were still driving. Getting myself together, I smile as he opens the door and holds his hand out to me. Stepping from the car, I naturally lean into him when he puts his arm around my waist.

The flashing of the cameras going off is blinding and I worry about my ability to see enough to walk. I hesitate for a second before realizing that I just need to let Exton guide me. According to him the press expected here tonight was a “small” group. I’d guess it’s probably less than twenty but it feels like a thousand.

The loud questions and directions to look a certain way are overwhelming.

“X! X! Who’s your lady?”

“Exton, look this way!”

“Has this one seen your sex tape?”

Some of the questions are shouted at me.

“What’s it like being with Triple X?”

“Who are you?”

“Look this way!”

Stopping near the door, Exton holds me close. Leaning into me he puts his mouth next to my ear. Under his breath he says, “Smile and let them have their pictures for the next minute. Then we can go in.””

Lifting his head he starts talking to the photographers. “Alright everyone, calm down. I’m here tonight to support Laz’s opening and I want to focus on that.”

They continue with their questions but he completely ignores them. It’s like what I would imagine walking the gauntlet would be like, and I’m thrilled when he turns and guides me so that we walk into the restaurant.

Blinking away the flashes that I’m still seeing even though no more cameras are going off, I lean into Exton for support when I see all the people in the room. There’s most of the cast of the cooking show that Laz was on, all of the Renegade Saints, the entire Hart family are all here, and there are several well-known actors and a bunch of reality TV stars.

Sliding his hand down to mine, Exton links our fingers together and then gently gives mine a squeeze. It’s the littlest thing, but it makes me feel not so overwhelmed. Mentally shaking off my nerves, I squeeze back.

I can do this.

AFTER ABOUT HALF AN hour of circulating and meeting people, I’m significantly less nervous. Exton’s been working the room and making sure to greet everyone, but now that’s finished and he’s in deep conversation with Gavin Wilde from the Renegade Saints about being the musical advisor for the show that Exton is writing.

I don’t want to be the annoying kind of woman that hangs onto a man like he’s a human life raft, so I start to pull my hand out of Exton’s grip so that I can walk away and leave them to talk business. Instead of letting go, he holds on tighter. Looking at me, he shakes his head once in the negative before turning back to Gavin.

“I’ll shoot you an email this week and we’ll meet up to discuss it in more depth,” he tells Gavin. If you’ll excuse us, I need to go check in with Laz.”

After Gavin walks away, Exton turns to me. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, I was just going to give you some breathing room. You shouldn’t feel like you need to babysit me—”

Without a word, Exton starts walking us through the crowd. People say things and try to engage him, but he just smiles and keeps right on going until we enter the kitchen, which he strolls through until we reach another set of kitchen doors. When he walks us through, we’re in a darkened hallway of what looks like the restaurant’s office space. Turning right, he walks us down the hall before opening a door and bringing me into what is obviously Laz’s office.

Once he shuts the door he positions me so that my back is against it. Setting a hand on either side of me, he glares down at me. “What the fuck was that about?” he asks briskly.

Licking my lips nervously, I look down. “I don’t want to be a—”

“Stop,” he commands firmly. “Whatever the hell you were about to say, just don’t do it. I brought you here tonight because I want to be with you. I always want to be with you, but you continuously keep finding imaginary roadblocks. You’re fucking mine and I want you next to me, Beautiful. Stop with the running.”

I hate myself for feeling all shivery inside at his pronouncement that I’m his. Possessive Exton is hotter than ever and I am appalled by how turned on I am by his Alpha tendencies. What am I, a fifties housewife? Hell no! I need to put a stop to this right now before I make an even bigger fool out of myself.

Lifting my arms up, I cross them over my chest and glare at him. “You make it sound like I’m a puppy or some kind of property and that’s disgusting. You aren’t my owner, Exton!”

Placing a hand on either side of my waist he holds me still as he leans forward so that he’s right up against me.

“Don’t give me some bullshit about being property, because I never said that. What I said was the straight truth—you’re mine. For the record, I’m just as much yours and you won’t ever find me complaining about that.”

I don’t know what to say to that and the way it makes me feel is scary. I don’t want to hope for things that aren’t really possible. He’s mine for right now, while it suits him, but I don’t really believe that anything serious will come of it.

“The way that you twist things inside your head fucking kills me,” he growls. “You have no reason to doubt anything about what’s happening here, but I can tell just from the look on your face that you’re grinding your gears and working overtime to make yourself believe that this is going to go bad. Stop putting so much energy into a false negative and focus on what’s really happening.”

He’s right; I do look for the negative. I hate that I’m like this, but I’m scared. Blowing out a sigh of surrender, I nod my head. “I’ll try harder.”

“Good, because I’m not fucking going anywhere.”

He gives me no chance to respond to that. I barely have time to process what he’s said before he’s kissing me. The kiss is hard and possessive, and I instinctively understand that he’s dominating me and staking his claim. Gripping his shoulders, I kiss him back just as aggressively. The little growl that he lets out as he thrusts against me causes me to tear my mouth from his in order to let out a gasp.

Sliding his hands into my hair, he pushes it back as he tilts my head to the side. He starts ever so gently kissing my neck before trailing little love bites from just under my ear down to my collarbone. I let out a strangled sound of pure arousal when he sucks at a particularly tender spot, and I clench my inner muscles so hard that I just about come.

Lifting his head, he looks down into my eyes and lets out a groan. “You’re so fucking sexy, Arden. How can you be so oblivious about what you do to me?”

Instead of waiting for me to answer—not that I’ve got anything coherent to say, mind you—he begins straightening my hair and my dress. When he’s satisfied that I’m okay, he drops one last soft kiss on my lips before taking my hand and leading us back to the party.

The rest of the evening has been phenomenal. Everyone loved Laz’s food and the atmosphere is really enjoyable. It’s kind of funny that I was so nervous about coming when it’s turned out to be much less intimidating than I had imagined. Now the night’s drawing to a close and Exton is just waiting for a text from the valet alerting him that his car is at the front.

I’m not looking forward to going through the groups of photographers again, but there are worse things to have to deal with.

“Car’s ready, baby. Let’s go.”

After saying our final goodbyes we head for Exton’s car hand in hand. The second the door to the restaurant swings open for us to step out, the camera flashes start going off and questions are shouted.

“Exton! Exton! Look over here!”

“Tell us who you’re with!”

“Who are you?”

“Look this way!”

Coming to a halt, Exton squeezes my hand as he faces the photographers.

“Come on guys,” he laughs affably. “No need to yell at my girlfriend—”

The very instant the word girlfriend leaves his lips, they go from just interested to rabidly obsessed with getting details. If I thought the flashes and questions were overwhelming before, I had no clue. Now they’re all yelling over each other and all I can really hear is “Girlfriend,” over and over again.

Honestly, they’re as shocked as I am. Who said anything about being his girlfriend? We never discussed that at all! I can tell that he’s very aware of the fact that I’ve gone rigid. Seeming to realize that I’m completely overwhelmed, he squeezes my hand tighter and starts leading me through the small crowd that is now jostling us as they yell their questions.

Either he senses that I’m completely overwhelmed or he’s just over their questions coming so fast and furious, because he’s now hustling me through the crowd toward the car. Once he’s sure that I’m safely seated, he hustles around the front of the car and gets into the driver’s seat. In seconds he’s got his seatbelt on and we’re driving away from the restaurant.

My palms are now clammy and my heart is racing. Girlfriend? Who said anything about being his girlfriend? When this blows up I’m going to be nothing but a joke. I’ll be like one of George Clooney’s old girlfriends. Oh my God, what the heck did I get myself into by agreeing to be seen in public with him? This is a nightmare!

“Arden, don’t—”

“Don’t what, Exton? Don’t have a reaction to the fact that you just threw me to the wolves? Don’t get upset that they’re going to dig until they find out who I am? Don’t feel sick to my stomach because I’m going to look like the world’s stupidest woman in front of thousands of people that I don’t know? Which thing are you telling me not to do?”

Reaching out, he sets his hand on my knee. “Baby, none of that is true—”

“Screw your true, Exton! We are done. D.O.N.E. Done! You’re an asshole and I can’t believe that I was stupid enough to fall for your bullshit for even five goddamn seconds! You make me sick!” I shout angrily.

Letting go of my leg, Exton moves his hand to the steering wheel. Holding his hands at ten and two, he steers the car with a death grip without saying a word to me.

The longer that the silence stretches between us, the more panicked I get. I am beside myself about what just happened and I can’t believe that there’s any doubt in my mind that this needs to end tonight. I have to want to be done with him! Having questions thrown at me by the paparazzi is something that I have no interest in. I should be happy that he’s not arguing any of this with me, glad that he’s going to walk away without a backwards glance.

The silence in the car is almost deafening, and it’s not helped along by the fact that since it’s a Tesla, it’s almost completely noiseless. The only thing that’s filling the awkward quietness is the sound of our breathing.

Clenching my fists I hold myself stiff as I focus on how much longer I need to hold myself together. When I see the freeway exit for my neighborhood, I silently urge myself on. I can do this—it’s only three or four more minutes, tops. Then I’ll get out of the car and that will be that.

When he turns down my street, I take my seatbelt off. The second he stops the car at the curb, I throw the door open and jump out.

I snap out a harsh, “Have a nice life,” as I slam the door behind me. Running up the walk, I burst into the courtyard of my building and haul ass up to my door. With trembling hands I open my clutch and pull my keys out, letting out a frustrated sound when my fingers don’t cooperate as I try to fit the key into the lock. I need to keep myself together because I really don’t want to have an emotional breakdown out here where any of my neighbors might see.

I startle when a hand covers mine. The only reason I don’t scream at the top of my lungs is because a jolt of electricity zaps my hand the second he touches me, so I know that it’s Exton. Looking over my shoulder at him I snap, “What’re you doing?”

Taking the keys from my jelly-like fingers, he fits the correct one into the lock. “Unlocking the fucking door,” he says tersely.

Turning the key, he flings the door open and guides me into the apartment. Spinning on my heel I immediately get angry when I see that he’s locking the door behind him.

“I don’t want you here,” I say firmly. “I said everything that needed to be said in the car. What do you think you’re doing by coming in here?”

He’s turned away from me as he locks the door and throws the keys onto the table, but the second he turns back to me, I have no doubt about the fact that he’s not happy.

“What am I doing? I’m fighting for you, goddammit! That shit you spouted in the car was ridiculous and I am done with you pushing me away like I’m some kind of fucking pariah! What have I done that makes you so motherfucking distrustful of me, Arden? Name one fucking thing!”

My fight or flight response has now kicked into full gear and I am desperate to run and hide. He has to go. “Are you really so cocky that you think that every woman alive will fall for your bullshit? You’ve fucked your way through the goddamn Victoria’s Secret catalogue, you’ve got a sex tape and not two weeks before I met you, you took ten women home with you for an orgy! You just made me look like the stupidest woman alive in front of those photographers and by tomorrow afternoon I’ll be the town joke!”

Letting out a harsh sound of pure frustration he runs a hand through his hair and closes his eyes. When he opens them, I find that they are blazing. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? You’re throwing shit at me that isn’t even true! Have I fucked models? Yes. Yes I have. I didn’t give a baker’s fuck about any of them and they didn’t give a shit about me, Arden.”

“I don’t want to hear about—”

“No, that’s not how this is going to work anymore! You threw this bullshit out, now I’m going to set your ass straight. You want to know how I feel about the fact that some goddamn cunt taped me during sex and then sold it to the highest bidder? I feel like a fucking idiot and there isn’t a week that goes by that I don’t think about it at some point. I didn’t give permission for her to do that, I didn’t know about it, and it fucking makes me sick. You have no fucking idea how badly that fucked with my head, or all the shit that I’ve done since then to make sure that nothing like that ever happens again.”

“You don’t know how much I hated myself for that one horrible judgment call. I should’ve known that she was out to fuck me over, but I didn’t pay attention to the signs and it happened. I can’t take it back. The only good thing I can say about that situation is that it’s been a decade now. That stupid fucking Triple X name stuck, but almost no one posts screenshots or shit from the video anymore. You know the real me, Arden. Not Triple X. Not the fucking asshole who fucked off and made mistakes that can never be erased—but you won’t admit that to yourself and I’m done letting you pretend that this isn’t fucking real.”

Seeing the pain on his face as he talks about the tape slices at my heart. I know how it feels to have someone play me for a fool in a way that can never be smoothed over. I will always carry the weight of what happened with Ricky, and I will always hate myself for being stupid enough to fall for his lies.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I shouldn’t have brought that up. I never cared about the tape—”

“I’m not finished,” he snaps. “That ridiculous fucking orgy story you just threw at me? Baby, you’re about to find out that I can go all night long—but even I couldn’t take on ten women and come out able to walk the next day. That story was fucking bullshit from beginning to goddamn end, as are most of the stories you see on the Internet or read in the gossip rags. I told you from the start that if you had any questions or concerns about any of the bullshit you read to tell me about it. Instead of addressing it head on, you said nothing.”

“I didn’t—”

“And then,” he continues on as he ignores my attempt to speak, “You throw a goddamn hissy fit over the fact that I accurately said that you’re my girlfriend. One of us here has been shooting straight this entire time, and it isn’t you. I couldn’t have made it any clearer that my intentions towards you are solid. You want to look me in the fucking eye and tell me that you’re not my goddamn girlfriend and that you don’t want to be? Because if you can do it, you aren’t just scared, you’re a fucking liar.”

I’m grasping at straws trying to come up with an answer. Finally I go with the only thing I can think of.

“You never asked me to be your girlfriend,” I answer hotly.

Throwing his hands in the air, he lets out a sound of pure frustration. “Am I here every day? Do I text, call and email you all day every day? Do I treat you like you’re my goddamn Queen? I do all of that and you aren’t paying attention if you think I’m not your boyfriend. I don’t know what the fuck you’re so afraid of, and I don’t know why you want to work so hard to push me away when it’s so obvious that what you really want is to be closer. The bottom line is that no matter what bullshit you throw out, it doesn’t change the fact that I. Am. Your. Fucking. Boyfriend,” he growls as he begins closing the distance between us.