THAT MAN Trilogy

by L'Amour, Nelle

  Finally, the thirty-first rolled around. Bradley had cut my time with my parents short because he had planned to take me to a New Year’s Eve party given by one of his boring dentist friends. I actually looked into getting a flight home sooner—I so badly wanted to be with Blake—but the cheapskate had booked a non-refundable ticket that I couldn’t change. On top of it, there were no earlier flights available.

  My flight was in the morning. I was grateful there wasn’t another snowstorm. After hugging my mother goodbye and collecting a bagful of cookies she’d baked for me to take back, my dad drove me to the airport. His favorite classical music station played while I held Blake’s plush tiger on my lap and stared out the window dreaming about him. Dad’s soothing voice cut into my reverie.

  “Jennie, what are you doing for New Year’s Eve?”

  “I’m spending it with Blake, but I don’t know what we’re doing.”

  He nodded. “He’s a good man. I like him a lot.”

  Somehow, I felt like this was the moment to ask him. “Dad, do you know exactly what he does?”

  “He heads the porn channel you work at.”

  Though his voice was nonchalant and nonjudgmental, my skin bristled.

  “How do you feel about that?” I asked nervously.

  “My Jennie, you’re a big girl now. You have to make your own decisions.”

  “Dad, I really love what I do and I’m good at it.”

  A small smile played on his handsome profile. “I know. And I’m proud of you, Jennie McCoy.”

  I was beaming. “Thanks, Dad.” I paused. “Are you going to tell Mom?”

  “Yep.”

  I swallowed hard. “How do you think she’ll react?”

  “You’ll hear her shrieking from Los Angeles, but she’ll get over it.”

  I laughed with relief. I so loved my dad.

  In no time, we arrived at the airport. At the curb, I put the tiger into the large shopping bag with the cookies and hugged my dad goodbye. About to enter the terminal, I turned to wave at him. “I love you, Dad,” I shouted out. He blew me a kiss I caught with my heart. The next kiss was going to be Blake’s. My heart raced. I couldn’t wait.

  Exactly two hours and ten minutes later, he was there. Waiting for me in the LAX terminal at arrivals. It was impossible to miss him. Besides being the most devastating man in the crowd, he was holding a monstrous SpongeBob balloon that said, “Soak it up!”

  I soaked him up. My heart almost beat out of my chest. Dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt, he wore a cheek-to-cheek smile on his ravishing face and looked hotter than hell. I dropped my bags and ran into his arms. He crushed his delicious lips on mine and spun me around and around. I was still wearing my winter coat and wooly hat.

  “Oh, Blake! I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Me too, baby. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

  Within ten minutes of being in Blake’s Porsche, I realized he wasn’t taking me home. We were on the 10 Freeway heading toward Santa Monica. The whole country was experiencing frigid conditions, but here in LA the weather was unseasonably summer-like. The top was down. I’d shed my coat and hat, and my hair blew in the warm wind.

  “Where are we going?” I shouted above the loud whooshing sound.

  “The balloon is a clue.”

  I gazed up at the silly balloon. He’d tied the long string around a side mirror, and it was whipping around in the air. SpongeBob lived in the ocean. So, maybe he was taking me for lunch at Back on the Beach, the restaurant where we’d shared our first meal together after our unforgettable Santa Monica Steps workout. The memory of that day flashed into my head. How he’d carried me up all those steps when I’d gotten a cramp and then massaged my leg to the point of arousal. Tingling all over, I smiled as the 10 turned into the Pacific Coast Highway and the ocean magically appeared.

  Being from the landlocked Idaho, the view of the white-crested Pacific Ocean on one side and the flower-covered craggy hills on the other, never ceased to amaze me. Today the water was a rare aquamarine, the waves majestic. There was only one view more breathtaking—that of the man sitting next to me with one hand on the wheel, the other on my thigh. As the wind ruffled his dark silky hair, I absorbed the invigorating salty scent of the ocean air. The Lumineers were playing on the radio. Between the gusting wind and blasting music, it was difficult to talk and be heard. But I was fine with the silence. Intermittently, a smile slid on Blake’s beautiful face and I wondered what he was thinking. Hopefully, the same thing I was: I belong to you; you belong to me.

  To my surprise, we passed by Back on the Beach. We didn’t stop. Blake had another destination in mind.

  “Okay, Mr. Burns, tell me where we’re going.”

  He tugged at my flapping ponytail and smiled wryly. “It’s a surprise.”

  The throbbing between my legs intensified and my heartbeat quickened. Blake was all about surprises. And usually a surprise came with one thing. His spectacular cock. My breathing hitched.

  About forty minutes into the ride, the scenery along the PCH became significantly more rugged. The beach houses lining the narrow highway disappeared, replaced by towering cypress trees that obscured the ocean view. I begged Blake again to tell me where he was taking me.

  Blake stole a look at me and smiled his heart-stopping dimpled smile. “You’ll see in a few minutes.”

  Sure enough, five minutes later, the car turned left onto an almost hidden road. Blake slowed down as he expertly navigated a rocky serpentine path. On either side of the rustic road, tall trees mixed with wild grass and flowers. The scent of the foliage mingled with that of the sea and was divine enough to bottle. A staggering all-glass structure came into view. Blake pulled into the impressive pebbled driveway. Semi-circular in shape, it could easily accommodate a dozen vehicles.

  I gawked at the arch­itectural­ly magnificent edifice. It was something straight out of one of those expensive interior design magazines with its multi-level planes and angles. And it was huge. Like a mini museum or something. Most amazing of all, it sat on a cliff and overlooked the ocean.

  “We’ve reached our final destination,” Blake said as he hopped out of the car and came around to open my door. I stepped out of the Porsche.

  My round-as-marbles eyes drank in my surroundings. “What is this place?”

  “It’s Jaime Zander’s beach house. He and Gloria are away with the twins and offered to let me use it.”

  “Oh my God, it’s fabulous,” I exclaimed as Blake took hold of my hand and led me to the entrance. I remembered Jaime mentioning he and his family were heading to Hawaii over the holidays when we’d had lunch together.

  Inside, the house was even more fabulous than I could imagine. A contemporary glass palace with floor-to-ceiling windows, offering glorious views of the Pacific. The furnishings were modern, sparse, and oversized, mostly in shades of white. The all-white interior showed off the colorful abstract paintings that lined the walls, all signed PAZ—an acronym for Payton Anthony Zander, Jaime’s late father. The artist who had painted The Kiss, the masterpiece Blake had given me. Framed photos were scattered everywhere, from the white lacquered baby grand to the immense fireplace mantle, and added warmth to the interior. I strolled over to the piano and studied the photos. In the center was a large one of a stunning couple embracing on the beach on their wedding day—Jaime and Gloria. Surrounding this centerpiece, were other photos of the couple along with numerous photos of their adorable twins—Payton and Paulette.

  “They look like the perfect family.”

  “They are,” beamed Jaime. “Wait here for a minute. I’m going to get our bags.”

  Wait! We’re staying here? Before I could ask, Blake was out the door. He was back in a flash with my roller bag, his overnight case, and the bagful of my mom’s cookies. And my toy tiger.

  “Come on, let’s go to the guest room and unload our stuff.”

  I got a chance to ask my question. “Are we staying here?”

 
He smacked my lips with a kiss. “All weekend. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “But Blake, I hardly have a thing to wear. Almost everything in my suitcase is for cold weather.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Smirking, he scanned my body. “You won’t be needing much.”

  My heart skipped a beat and a tingle shot up from my toes to my middle. For sure, Blake had the weekend well planned with one activity in mind. Fine by me.

  Taking our bags, my gorgeous sex god led me up a baby-proofed winding stairs that evoked the curl of a wave. There were numerous rooms on the second level, including an adorable nursery. The guest room meant to be ours was at the very end of a long hallway. It, too, was all white. Anchoring it—an inviting bleached wood king-sized bed covered with a plush duvet and a mountain of fluffy pillows. Blake plopped our stuff onto a nearby luggage rack while I gravitated to a huge hot pink box on the bed. The size of a suitcase, it was meticulously wrapped with a white bow as big as a basketball. I eyed a small envelope tucked inside the ribbon with my name beautifully written on it.

  “What’s this?” I asked Blake.

  “A present from Gloria.”

  “You’re kidding!” Gloria’s Secret was the largest lingerie retailer in the world, though I’d never bought much there except my cherry vanilla shampoo. Right after the holidays, I was pitching her my concept for a SIN-TV daytime block targeted at women. The PowerPoint presentation was close to being finished.

  “Open it,” Blake insisted.

  Eagerly, I reached for the envelope first. Inside was a note handwritten in the same elegant scroll.

  Dear Jennifer~

  Enjoy! Hope you have a wonderful weekend! Look forward to meeting you soon!

  xo~Gloria

  I placed the note on the bed beside the box and proceeded to open it. Upon removing the lid, my eyes grew wide. Beneath layers of delicate pink tissue paper was a barrage of meticulously folded lingerie. Dozens of matching lace bras and panties in different colors and patterns, baby dolls, plus a magnificent silk robe. Each piece exquisite. As I dug further, I discovered the package also included Gloria’s Secret outerwear—floral sundresses, shorts and tops, sweats as well as a couple of sexy bikinis and a pair of flip-flops. And even a sparkly black mini dress with matching stilettos. Everything I needed for a New Year’s weekend at the beach and all in my size.

  “Oh my God!” I was overwhelmed. “I can’t accept all this.”

  Blake wrapped his arms around me from behind, and I could feel his warm breath tickle the nape of my neck. “Get over it. Gloria will be insulted. And besides, it’s all really a gift for me.”

  A delicious shiver skittered down my spine as he began to unbutton my blouse and lower it past my shoulders. His hands skimmed my breasts, and I could feel my nipples peaking. Wetness was already pooling between my legs as the blouse fell to the floor.

  “Get undressed,” Blake whispered in my ear. As he nuzzled my neck, heating every bit of me, I managed to undo the zipper of my jeans and step out of them after kicking off my shoes. My breathing grew uneven as he unhooked my bra and slid it down my arms while I stepped out of my panties.

  “I want you to give me a fashion show.” He reached for a random matching bra and thong. Turquoise lace with pearl em­bell­ish­ments. “Put these on first,” he ordered, handing them to me. He rifled through the box. “And put the stilettos on too.”

  I slipped on the lingerie, then the shoes, and stood before him. I was as stiff as a board. His lustful eyes roamed my body.

  “C’mon, baby. Loosen up.” Hopping into the bed, he hit a remote and Beyoncé filled the room.

  I loved Beyoncé. She had a great voice and was all about woman-power. As she sang “Crazy in Love,” I paraded around the bed as gracefully as I could.

  Blake leaned against the headboard, his arms folded across his broad chest and his long muscular legs outstretched. His smoldering eyes followed me, and a contented smile splayed across his face.

  “Next,” he said, his voice sultry.

  I quickly stripped off the lingerie I was wearing and put on another set—a red lace strapless bra and matching G-string. Blake gave me a thumbs-up.

  The music got to me. He got to me. I found myself doing things I’d never done before. Pushing up my boobs. Swaying my hips. Sliding my hand beneath the lace. Throwing my ass into his face. Pouting and blowing him kisses. Even singing along. I was enjoying every moment. And so was he. I’d never felt so sexy.

  On my third change of lingerie—a sheer polka dot baby doll—he signaled me to come over to him with a curl of his finger.

  Heated, I crawled onto the bed and faced him on my hands and knees. My roaring tiger pose. To my astonishment, I actually let out a fierce growl.

  “Come here, my sexy little supermodel,” he rasped, his eyes hooded.

  I scooted closer to him. I watched as he unzipped his fly. Out popped his monstrous cock. There was already a bead of pre-cum on the tip. My breathing hitched.

  “Have you missed this, tiger?”

  I clutched my galloping heart like I was having an attack and breathed out, “Yes.”

  “As much as I’ve missed this?” Without warning, he tore off the scrap of fabric I was wearing and plunged a long finger deep into my pussy. I gasped.

  And gasped again when he put his finger, glistening with my juices, to his mouth and sucked it.

  “Mmmm. I might eat you for dinner, but right now, I want you to sit on my cock. And ride me.”

  Despite how loosened up I was, my body trembled. I’d never done this position before. What I knew from books I read, it was incredible. Deep and empowering. I repositioned myself so I was straddling his hips. Slowly, I lowered myself onto his huge erection. Upon entry, I yelped with pleasure. I was so wet his extraordinary length seated me in no time.

  “Oh, Blake! You feel so good,” I moaned out. God, he felt divine. So hot! So big! So mine!

  “You really have missed me, baby.” He lifted the sheer baby doll top and groped my breasts. As he kneaded them, his thumbs circled around my tender nipples, sending a rush of erotic sensations to my sex. I bit down on my lip. The combination of his fullness and my flutters was already sending me over the edge.

  Drunk with lust, his eyes fixed on mine. “Now, tiger, anchor your hands on the bed, lift your hips, and come down on me again. Hard.”

  I did as bid and quickly got into a rhythm. While I could feel him thrusting into me, he let me control the pace and depth of penetration. I rode him hard and fast, working myself into a sweat. Every time I had sex with Blake, I thought it couldn’t get better. But this was amazing. Fucking amazing! Each time I ground down on him, he bucked into me, stimulating my clit and hitting my magic spot again and again. Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! My greedy mouth sucked every ounce of flesh it could reach and chewed on his damp tee.

  The beginnings of a major orgasm descended on me quickly. I was leaving this earth. Falling off a cliff. My fingernails clawed the crisp cotton sheet. I was sure it was torn.

  “Blake, I’m going to come,” I cried out.

  “Keep your eyes open, and I want to hear you roar my name until you’re hoarse.”

  With whimpering pants that bordered on sobs, I nodded. As he continued to pummel into me, my climax spiraled, consuming every cell in its path like a fierce tornado. I roared his name until my throat was sore.

  “Fuck, tiger!” he shouted as his own orgasm collided with mine. His body jerked as he spurted his hot semen inside me. Our eyes never broke contact.

  “Fuck,” he said again with a harsh breath as he pumped one more blast into my quivering pussy.

  A heated sheen coated his face and I could practically see my reflection. He leaned forward to reward me with a kiss. I cupped his strong jaw in my hands to prolong it. His mouth was delicious, his tongue so talented. I never wanted his kisses to end.

  Recovering from my powerful orgasm, I finally pulled away. His cock was still in me. Leaning his head back against th
e headboard, he gazed at me and traced my face softly with his hand.

  “Tiger, do you know why you’re so sexy and beautiful?”

  I shook my head. No man had ever used those words to describe me.

  A smile played on his face. “Because you don’t know it.”

  I smiled back at him. “I do know something.”

  “And what might that be?” he asked slyly.

  “That I love you.”

  In a breath, he rolled me over and was pummeling me again.

  His heart was in his eyes when he repeated my words and breathed out one word with one final powerful thrust: “Mine.”

  We came together.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon fucking and cuddling. We shared silly intimate things like childhood stories, dreams, and scars. While I had many, each with a story that captivated him, Mr. Beautiful only had one small battle scar on his back—the result of a fight he’d had with his sister, Marcy, when he was a youngster. The stories he told me about the two of them growing up together had me roaring with laughter. The funniest of all was the time his sister, ten years older and a gynecologist, found him in her office fucking one of his high school teachers with her feet in the stirrups. I laughed until I cried. Blake Burns was indeed a very naughty boy and I loved him all the more for it.

  Outside, the sound of waves crashing against the rocky shoreline sounded in my ears. Before long, the sky darkened, and exhausted from all the love and laughter, I dozed off, tucked in his brawny arm with my head on his warm taut chest. His heart beat like a lullaby in my ears.

  When we awoke, it was almost eight o’clock. Ravenous after a long, mind-blowing shower, we dressed casually in sweats and made dinner together in the enormous, state-of-the-art kitchen. The menu: lobster, champagne, and my mother’s chocolate chip cookies. Blake had bought the lobsters and champagne before picking me up at the airport.