Take a Bow (The Perfect Plans Series Book 2) (19 page)

Like an animal, a ferocious beast of sexual yearning, he grabs my arm, roughly pulling me inside. I sway slightly in my alcohol-fueled stupor, completely overcome by his erotic commanding force.

My thong soaks further as his mouth finds mine, his tongue plunging deep. My pussy clenches and pulses in desperate yearning as he pins me against the wall, his hands aggressively sliding up my thighs to cup my sex, harshly palming my ass.

“Mine,” he spews against my lips, licking the seam, sucking and nibbling his way along my jaw and neck as he kicks the door shut.

Tilting my head at the pleasure of his onslaught, I moan incoherently, shaking to the core in longing. “Alex. please…” I need him to take me to that place. I’m desperate for him, the aphrodisiac effects of the alcohol fueling my desire further.

Lifting his gaze to mine, his stare is molten, burning with a desire like I’ve never seen before, searing me deep with its passion. A rush of breath pours from my mouth, a shiver coursing through me at the sight. The effect of the alcohol is permeating through his want, his eyes heavy with lust, hair disheveled, begging to be pulled.

Our dual need to feel, taste, consume, overtakes us; our mouths meeting in a fury, lips devouring in a ravenous kiss, so hot, so pervasive, it could burn us both alive.

He cups my jaw in his hands, holding me securely in place for his ravaging kisses, my body shaking in need. I’m so unbelievably desperate for him, I would give just about anything, say just about anything, for him to take me here, now - to fuck me up against this wall, on the floor, anywhere, it wouldn’t matter.

Gripping and squeezing his thick arms, I savor the feel of his corded muscles tightening and flexing beneath my palms, the knowledge that he’s about to come undone almost bringing to my knees.

I need him crazed, out of control; my need to spur him on causing me to unleash the dirtiest words I’ve ever uttered into his kiss, “Fuck me, Alex. I need to feel you inside me…fucking me with your big cock. Take what’s yours…my pussy is desperate for you,” the words continue, falling from my lust-fueled euphoria.

He’s as turned on by the images my dirty pleas evoke as I am by having created them. My words fuel his ever-raging fire sending him growling against my lips, his fingers flexing slightly at my jaw before lowering to grip my shirt in his hands, harshly ripping it open, buttons sent spewing, pinging to the floor.

I yelp in surprise at his dominant display, his hands returning to my face, taking me in another searing kiss that melts me from the inside out.

Tongues dueling, devouring each other’s mouths, he frantically slides my shirt off my shoulders, making quick work of my bra before tossing it to the floor. My breasts are heavy and engorged, on fire, desperate for his touch, his mouth.

Swiping his palms along my nipples, my needy whimpers spike his ardor, his hands gliding up, gripping my shoulders, “Take what I want, baby?” his husky words whisper against my lips, before he pulls back, staring into my eyes. “I want you on your knees,” his gentle shove sends a delicious pulse down my spine as I drop to the floor before him.

Savagely, I undo his pants, grasping his engorged cock with greedy fingers, massaging up and down his shaft. Desperate to taste, I lick the slit, the salty essence coating my tongue, driving me wild for more. I trail my tongue along every ridge, leaving no glorious inch untouched, before rimming the tip, taking him deep.

I moan at the feel of his thickness, the masculine flavor that is Alex; his raspy groans urging my hungry lust. I feel frenzied, out of control, bobbing up and down on his cock, swirling my tongue along his hot flesh. Cupping his balls, I massage them in my palm amid my devouring; savoring the delicious feel of him in my mouth.

“Fuck,” he growls, grabbing my hair firmly to secure me in place, his hips undulating into my rhythm. His sexy, dominant hold is thrilling, and I take advantage of it, reaching around to grab his ass, taking him deeper.

On a guttural groan, he pulls back, the head of his cock teasing my lips, before he pushes back inside, brushing the back of my throat, my eyes closing in abandon as he takes control.

Resting my hands on my knees, I’m at the mercy of his demands, his controlled pace, as he maneuvers me along his length.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good…” he lures my gaze to his, filled with desire as he watches me swallow him whole.

Closing his eyes above his sexy parted lips, I witness the pleasure twist through him as he fights to remain in control - control that threatens to break before he pulls his cock from my mouth on a growl, swiftly lifting me to stand.

Turning me, he reaches around for a quick teasing swipe of my core before wrapping his hands firmly around my waist, walking us the few feet to the living room. “I’m going to fuck you, Aby. Rest assured, I will most certainly take what’s mine,” he growls in my ear, passion and lust evident in his warning.

“Yes…” I reach back, sliding my hands up around the nape of his neck, tugging on his curls in desperation, arching my ass to grind against his hardness.

Placing a hand at the small of my back, he forces my shoulder with the other, bending me over the back of the leather chair. My hands instinctively reach forward to gain measure in the incredibly sexy assault, a warm flush spreading across my skin as his fingers skim under the hem of my skirt to tease the round globes of my ass, bare to his touch.

Pushing the hindrance of my skirt up around my waist, he releases an appreciative groan, reaching for my thong, tugging it to the side, my pussy clenching and quivering in anticipation of his fill.

“Fuck, baby. I need you. I need to be inside you”, he emits on a desperate plea, his fingers gliding along the cleft of my ready sex, grasping the lace of my thong to drag them down my hips.

“Yes…do it”, I urge, arching back for him, taunting him, my panties sliding down my legs, pooling at my heels.

I whimper as his engorged cock slides against my core, squeezing my eyes shut on a moan as he strokes his shaft in his grip, teasing it along the wetness.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he groans.

“Oh god,” I manage, my head dropping forward, unable to contain my desperation to feel him inside me; my need to feel him fucking me senseless engulfing me like an inferno.

Lining himself up, he plunges deep, thrusting his cock to the hilt. His fevered momentum has me screaming out in abandon with every lashing thrust of his ownership; my pussy squeezing him like a tight vice, gripping him greedily.

Reaching aggressively for my hips, he lifts me to the tips of my toes, driving into me over and over again; the pounding, slapping of skin meeting skin melding into my pleas for more. Unabashed, wild love consumes me. Never have I felt so complete with another person. Never have I loved another as much as I love him.

On a harsh growl, he fucks into me with mindless abandon, pulling my ass into the air as I continue to balance myself, shuddering from the rawness of the pleasure.

“That’s it, baby. Come all over my cock,” his demand roars above my shrieks of ecstasy, his forceful thrusts unwavering as my pussy trembles near the edge, squeezing his cock, pushing me closer and closer.

“Oh, god, Alex! I’m coming”, I scream, falling over the precipice.

“Fuck, yes!” he groans, releasing my hips, his large body looming against my back, stiffening rigidly before his cum jets up inside me.

I relish in the feel of his muscular body tightening, his groans of satisfaction as he fills me; whimpering uncontrollably through the remnants of my orgasm quivering through my body with shudders of release.

“I love you, baby,” the sole words I register as I succumb to orgasmic surrender. “I love you so fucking much.”

“DONE!” I TRIUMPH aloud, hitting the send button on my email to Thomas, profoundly proud of myself for my contributions to this particular marketing campaign. Closing my computer, I push up from the deck table, unwinding my sore muscles, atrophy setting in from sitting for so many consecutive hours. I stretch my raised arms to the sky, smiling as I close my eyes in delight, the bright afternoon rays licking across my heated skin.

Feeling invigorated, I snatch up my laptop and notes, making my way inside, machinations of preparing a luscious home-cooked meal for Alex lighting my steps. I love nothing more than pampering him when he gets home from a long day filming. When I can, that is. Sometimes he’s gone for hours and hours on end, oftentimes slipping in bed beside me well into the evening.

Walking through the open glass doors leading to the kitchen, I discard my work on the table as I pass, heading towards the oversized gourmet island, thoughts of a romantic dinner-for-two floating through my mind. Pulling out my trusty recipe book, I begin flipping through the pages, aimlessly searching for a meal Alex will absolutely love. My thoughts mingle enticingly with the many delicious dessert options we can play with - either before or after we eat.

The interruption of my perusing by the door chime doesn’t shake my heated reverie. As a matter of fact, the idea that it could be Alex home earlier than expected is as inviting as my thoughts of having him for an appetizer.

A surprise strip tease at the front door?
- my inner dreamer elicits suggestively in delight as I make my way to answer it.

“Oh,” I stagger in surprise against my swift opening of the door. “Liam? Oh my God! What a surprise!” I’m shocked, yet slight enthusiasm seeps through at seeing him so unexpectedly. He looks really good, his skin slightly tan, emphasizing his striking blue eyes beneath his almost buzzed-cut hair - his former pretty-boy, perfectly coifed mane gone. I note the biker helmet in his hand, realizing why. His plain white t-shirt, untucked over baggy jeans, adds an attractive rebellion to his new carefree, relaxed style.

“Hey, Abs! A good surprise?” he questions, a slight twinkle in his eyes.

He looks happy, and it’s infectious. “Of course a good surprise. Come in, please,” I stand back to allow him entry. Closing the door behind him, I smile warmly at his familiar face, watching as he takes in his surroundings. It’s amazing what you get used to, I realize, taking in my lavish abode through Liam’s eyes, the luxurious furnishings and artwork displayed to perfection. Truly magazine worthy.

We sink into silence, and I feel an odd pang at having him here - a piece of my past amongst the sometimes unbelievable reality of my present, my new world foreign to him. Yet he’s a welcome sight to my slight homesickness, and I shake off the alien vibe with a heartfelt smile. “Would you like some coffee?” I offer, pulling his gaze back to mine.

“Absolutely,” he follows me into the kitchen. “Nice place.” He takes a seat at the island, absentmindedly fingering through my discarded recipe book, “Cooking plans?”

I note the slight smirk on his face, his passive-aggressive insulting of my culinary skills light-heartedly obvious. “Ha, ha. I’ve improved in the cooking department, I’ll have you know,” I retort, preparing the coffee. I can’t help but chuckle at his easy laughter that follows. He always was good at making me laugh. “I honestly can’t believe you’re here. I admit it slipped my mind that you were making your way to L.A..”

“Jeez, Aby. I’m wounded that I’m so easily forgettable. Break my heart, why don’t ’ya.”

My breath catches at his choice of words, and my movements still.
He was joking, let go of the guilt, dumb ass
- my inner actress pops into my psyche as though rubbed from her genie bottle.

Liam’s chuckle interrupts my internal tirade, “Abs, I was kidding. And, stop. You’ve beaten yourself up enough when it comes to me. Clearly, I’m doing fine. All wounds healed,” he gestures, arms outstretched, charmingly showcasing his lean body.

His playful pose elicits my laughter; my ever-present guilt over the hurt I’ve caused him effectively evaporated at his good-natured humor. “Yes, you do look good. Happy even.”

“I am. This trip has been unbelievable, baby. I’m…” he freezes.

I freeze.

The moment washes over with Liam’s quick shake of his head, as though he snapped his fingers and erased the blip. I’m fairly certain my eyes are still bulging slightly at his slip of the tongue, yet he continues on through his surprisingly unfaltering smile of excitement, “I’m staying at a small cottage up the coast for the next few weeks before I head out again. Riding is addictive. I’m finding it hard to stay in one place for too long before the itch to take off hits.”

He’s like a kid returning from the state fair, high on his cotton candy, tilt-a-world-riding buzz. “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.” And I mean it. I feel a sense of utter peace at having Liam here, regaling me with his journey.

“And speaking of happy, you look pretty happy yourself. You always did look amazing with a tan,” he flashes his winning smile.

Laughing, I pour our coffees, adding his preferred additives from memory before passing him the cup. “Thanks, it’s hard to avoid a tan when the deck constitutes as my office. Freelance work has its perks,” I shrug.

“What a change, eh? Both of us. Who knew that this is where we’d wind up? It blows my mind,” he stares contemplatively down at his coffee, a wistful expression donning his stubble-covered face.