The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] (56 page)

“Perception is everything, sweetheart.” He leans down to kiss me once more, his hands still in place at my jaw. The brief, teasing entry of his tongue before he pulls his lips away is delicious…and merciless.

“You don’t play fair,” I bite my lip.

His sexy smile thrills me to the bone.

“OH, NOW THIS seems more like a shrine,” Alex teases as I pull him up the staircase. “I have to say, the braces were a good look on you.”

“Stop it!” I giggle, trying to pull him away from the wall of embarrassing childhood photos. “This isn’t a shrine, it’s the walk of shame. For Beth too.”

“Oh, and that hair…” he continues, pointing to another image as we pass; my tug more forceful to drag him towards my former bedroom. “You were pretty hot,” he flashes a sinful smile as we enter.

Clearly, he’s just trying to make me feel better, and I love him for it. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” I argue playfully, closing the door behind us. “Cute maybe. But hot?”

“Oh yes,” his husky tone whispers down my core as he backs me up. “Hot.”

“You’re incorrigible,” I utter breathlessly, loving every minute of his sexy display, pinning me against the closed door.

“For you, absolutely,” he bends to take me in a kiss. “Insatiably so,” he mumbles through our joined lips, swallowing my gasp as his fingers curl behind me, cupping my ass.

His kiss is slow. Tantalizing. My body is suddenly floating on air from the magic touch of his fingers trailing up my sides, his other hand cradling my jaw, his magician tongue filling me with the fluttering of butterflies right down to my clenching core.

Pulling marginally from my lips, he takes a deep breath. “What you do to me, Aby Ryan,” he shakes his head a little, releasing me.

I giggle as he adjusts his loose, perfectly fitted jeans at the crotch. His returned smile is breathtaking.
My God, I love this man.

“Wow,” he takes a look around my bedroom. “This is your old room?” he asks, seemingly dubious. “It looks as though you never left it,” he adds, obviously referring to its perfect order and pristine cleanliness care of my mother.

“I know,” I smile, taking it all in myself. The girly pink walls are cringingly accented with a pastel pink wallpaper border, a single white bed - its pretty little canopy shaky atop flimsy finials, screws desperately needing tightening after years of wear and tear. The epitome of a little girl’s haven.
My
haven. The peaceful memories of my escape from the cray-cray in this house still intact, as though I never left. “Dad would never let my mother throw any of it away, even if she wanted to.”

Walking over to the matching white desk, he runs his hand along the stack of books, his smile curling into a devilish smirk. “It seems your reading taste has changed a little.”

“Ummm, yeah, a little,” I smile, taking in the titles in the pile…
Charlotte’s Web, Little Women, Lord of the Flies,
and
a few Judy Bloom’s mixed in between
.
“I enjoyed reading fairytales too,” I point to more books lining the bookshelf in the corner. “I just like them a little dirtier now,” I add with a flirtatious gaze his way.

“Be careful, Miss Ryan, I’m not sure that darling little canopy can survive what I’ll do to you if you continue to flirt with me. Not to mention, you may struggle stifling your moans.”

“Idle threats, Mr. Tate?”

“You have no idea,” he shakes his head again, adjusting his pants with a defeated sigh.

I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if I tried. I feel like a little girl playing naughty tease with her boyfriend in her bedroom, her parents unknowing downstairs.
Hell, that’s exactly what I’m doing
. I may not be a little girl anymore, but I sure feel as though time has turned back, transporting me to that innocence of youth. Head over heals in love with prince charming, wanting him to sweep me off my feet. I’m giddy. Elated. In love.

“You and Stacey?” he asks, picking up a frame from the desk.

“Uh-huh,” I move closer to take a look.

“Interesting costumes.”

I laugh at his humorous grin. “We thought it would be fun to theme-style our Halloween costumes. She was adamant that we switch up our personalities, though her version of an angel is little more risqué than most.”

“And you make quite the sexy devil,” he adds with a sinful gleam in his eye.

“I can role-play,” I wink.

“Now there’s an idea,” he teases, the thought filling me with a burning fire I can feel tainting my cheeks.

He stares at me for a moment, pausing at my mouth as I take my bottom lip between my teeth, before flashing that core clenching smirk of his. Turning away, he places the frame back down, looking up to the bulletin board hanging over the desk. “What’s all this?”

“Things I liked, was interested in…dreamed of,” I explain, scanning the pinned images from a lifetime ago.

“And this one?” he gestures to a picture of a beautiful outdoor path ensconced and magically illuminated by twinkling lights. “Where is it?”

“I have no idea. I just thought it was beautiful,” I reply, lost in the vision I loved so much. “Magical,” I add, leaving his side in a giddy bounce to quickly turn out the light before reaching for a switch hanging over the headboard. The semi-darkened room is softly lit along one wall by hanging strands of twinkling lights.

“Romantic,” his eyebrow shifts in that sexy quirk. “In a Christmas kind of way,” he smiles, teasing me.

“It’s not Christmasy - is that even a word?” I laugh, moving towards him to caress his glorious chest through his shirt. “I was going for
dreamy
, but right now I would certainly call it romantic.” I step on my tiptoes to reach his lips for a kiss.

“Romantic is good,” he replies through the lingering touch of our lips.

“It is,” I agree, feeling the delicious pull of his building desire, the quickening of our breaths.

I give in to him, his tongue teasing for entry, melting against his chest as he pulls me close. I’m not sure if it’s the soft slowness of our kiss that makes my heart beat faster, or maybe it just feels that way - like I’m floating as I lose myself in the taste of him. He cups my cheeks in his hands to deepen it, the sensual lure enough that I could drift away. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought that just yesterday, I could have lost him, and I pull firmly at his nape, desperate to hold him to me. I never want to let him go again.

Our euphoric spell is quickly broken at the pitter patter of little feet outside in the hallway followed by my sister’s muffled order, “Give Aunt Aby and Mr. Tate some privacy, honey.” We laugh against each other’s lips at little Jessica’s cute reply, “Why, Mommy? What’s piracy?”

“Romance can wait,” he caresses my cheek, brushing his thumb across my lip. “I actually have something I want to ask you,” he adds, taking my hand to sit us down on the bed, its aged creaking giving me momentary pause for concern.

“If this is an offer to take me to Prom, I’m sorry to say, you’re too late.”

“Oh, you already have a date?” he asks, playing along.

“Yeah, I do.” I pull my leg up, turning to face him with a playful shrug.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to wait until it’s over to whisk you away with me to L.A.”

“What?”

Alex chuckles at my confused expression. “Filming begins in two weeks, and could last for up to four months. I have a place on the coast, and I want you to come with me.”

“For like…a visit?”

“No, Aby, I want you with me
for like
the entire stay,” he teases, taking my hand in his. “I want you to move to L.A. with me.”

I’m speechless, fairly certain my eyes are bugging from the sockets, mentally standing to do a giant jumping jack on my bed.

“Well, I was thinking, since you’re working on a freelance basis with Ashley Fines, work won’t be an issue.” He bends to look more closely in my eyes, “Aby, say something.”

“No…” the word comes out as an afterthought as I finally begin processing his words.

“No?”

“Yes…I mean, no, work won’t be an issue,” I scramble for my words to catch up to my thoughts. “But there is the issue of Amira’s flat - although, I guess she won’t mind that I’m not actually
in
it, as long as I continue to pay my rent.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he bends to nibble at my neck.

“Alex, I signed the sublease for a six month term, I have to fulfill my obligation. Wait…what do you mean?”

“I just don’t think it’s something you need to worry about,” he mutters through the delicate brushes of his lips against my skin.

Nothing I need to worry about
…“You’ve done something,” I push his shoulders to draw the attention of his gaze. “What did you do?”

His delicious mouth pulls up at the corner before he gently grabs my nape to kiss me. It’s an obvious attempt at distraction, and despite how easily I could give in to it, I brush him off. “Spill it, Tate,” I order with a playful glare.

“Spill what?” he questions coyly, aiming for my neck again. “I haven’t done anything…recently.” He ups the game of his nibbling lips with his caressing fingers down my spine.

“Recently?” I pull away once more, biting the corner of my mouth to avoid giving in to the adorable pout he offers. “Please tell me you didn’t do something crazy like pay my lease out?” I laugh - I
was
joking. His expression, however, is spoiling the humor. “Alex? What did…?” I trail off, suddenly remembering the day we met with Amira - the way she looked to Alex momentarily when I asked what the rent would be. “What exactly did you and Amira discuss before I came to the flat that day?”

“We discussed you, of course.”

“And…?”

He lets out a defeated sigh with an awkward smile. “Let’s just say, Amira and I came to an understanding about the rent.”

“What kind of
understanding
?”

“A mutually exclusive agreement.”

“Alex Tate, I swear, if you don’t…”

“I offered to pay her rent for the six months she is away, if she agreed to sublet her flat to…”

“
What
?”

Smiling, he shrugs.

“Well, that certainly explains the low rent I pay,” I shake my head, unsure if I should be appalled or flattered. “And what exactly would you have done if I hadn’t agreed to go out with you after all that?”

“The thought never entered my mind.” His devilish smile is ridiculous. The man could melt butter.

“Oh, really…cocky much?”

“Not at all, I actually wasn’t thinking that far ahead.” He takes my hand to kiss it. “I just knew I had to make it happen.” The sincerity in his gaze is my undoing, akin to an injection of a mind-numbing drug into my veins. My body reacts to the familiar rush that only he can give me. “The rent you have been paying has been going to a charity that Amira and I agreed upon.”

“You’re incredible,” I shake my head.

“It’s a charity near and dear to my heart,” he begins to explain as though he should, “…however, you can choose your own, now that you know.”

“You really are a wonderful man, Alexander Tate,” I take his face in my hands to kiss his beautiful lips.

“I don’t know about that,” he replies, shyly. “I do, however, know that I would have done whatever I had to, to make you mine.”

And I almost gave you up
…my breath hitches at the thought.

“So, back to what we were discussing,” he pulls my lip from its bite with his thumb, caressing my jaw. “Will you move to L.A. with me?”

“Oh, that. I just don’t know…” I play indifference, pretending to fiddle with my hair.

“Aby, I can’t go without…”

“Yes! Of course I’ll move to L.A. with you!” I wrap my arms around his neck, a little too tightly.

“Aby, I…can’t breath,” he mutters playfully.

“We’re going to L.A.!” I jump up on the bed to pull my imagined leap into reality, landing on my side, pulling him into my arms; the bedframe swaying from the impact, its creaks akin to an eerie horror movie sound effect.

“You’re excited about this,” he notes, wrapping me in his arms.

“I’m excited about you…just being with you,” I correct him, melting into his kiss.

“I think you will be excited about Necker too,” he says, pulling away to rain kisses down my neck.

“Necker?” I question, giggling. “Are you suggesting you want to brand me, Mr. Tate? Hickey’s are highly frowned upon.”

“I’m suggesting four days to ourselves on Necker Island,” his lips twist into a smile against my neck.

“What?” I pull back, pushing him away at the shoulders. “What’s Necker Island?”

“You mean,
where
is Necker Island?” he corrects me with a jovial smirk.

“Stop it,” I give him the stink eye. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s in the British Virgin Islands,” he pauses as though that will clear it all up for me. His devilish grin suggests he’s playing with me, stretching it out to tease. “It’s Sir Richard Branson’s private island.” My slight head shake and neck crane urge him to elaborate. “I took the liberty of hiring the island exclusively,” he finally adds.

“Get out!” I shove his shoulders in awe. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he chuckles. “Does this mean you want to go?”

“Are you serious?” I repeat in a high-pitched squeal, jumping up from the bed. “When? When are we going?”