Seeing White

by Charlotte E Hart

  “I can feel you’re ready, baby. Just hold off. I want to come with you. Look at me. I want you to see me, see what you do to me. Fuck, yes.” He groans as I feel him thickening inside me with every forceful drive forward. I open my eyes and am rewarded with the completely erotic vision of him slamming his hips against me, muscles straining and rippling with tension. Instantly I’m tipping over the edge and those bright lights start to glimmer as my body tightens around him and the ache in my core turns into an ecstasy of delight and pure pleasure. Clamping my legs, I raise my hips to meet his last stroke as he pours himself into me with another groan and hauls my limp body up by the neck to sit astride him. I wrap my arms around his neck and hang on as he grinds the last of his seed into me. Nuzzling into his neck and trying to get my breathing back to normal, I run my fingers up and down his back. Love swells in my heart, as he holds onto me tighter than usual, leaving me with feelings of belonging and hope. Maybe he is as close to this as I am? My lips can’t stop licking their way around his throat as his hand rests on the back of my head and he pushes me in closer, tilting his neck to give me greater access to it. God, I can’t get enough of the taste of him, the sweat, the aftershave, him.

  Eventually, when we’ve both started to regain our composure, I try to climb off, thinking he’s probably quite uncomfortable kneeling on a countertop with my full weight on him.

  “No. Stay,” he says sharply as he grasps me tighter and kisses my shoulder tenderly. Oh. Okay.

  “You’re rather strong, Mr. White, and quite flexible to be honest. For an old man, you don’t do badly at all,” I say with a giggle into his neck. I instantly narrow my eyes at my own stupidity. That may have been not as funny as I intended. His chest shaking indicates that maybe I’m okay.

  “You have no idea, Miss Scott,” he replies, bringing my face towards him and kissing me again. “Grip on.” I clamp my legs around him and tighten my arms around his neck. Spinning us around, he somehow manages to get us both down to the floor with me still attached and him still buried inside me, all the time growling into and nibbling my neck.

  “Very impressive, Mr. White. Where to now?” I ask, grinning like a fool. God, I love playful Alex.

  “Upstairs for a shower. If I make it that far without fucking you again, that is. The stairs are also looking very appealing at the moment. Although, I think Andrews might get a shock if he sees us and I think Mary will be here soon. She starts at eleven thirty,” he replies as he shifts my weight and walks along the hall purposely.

  “You can put me down, you know? And who’s Mary,” I ask, giggling and kissing his shoulder.

  “I can’t show any weakness now, can I? I’d look a right bloody idiot. Besides, I don’t want to let you go just yet. I like having you wrapped around me. And she’s my housekeeper. I think she’s been at the apartment this morning, thankfully. I doubt she would have wanted to deal with our display of affection,” he replies, taking the first step and chuckling.

  “Affection...? Is that what you call having aggressive sex on the countertop?” I ask with another giggle. He quirks one of his eyebrows as a very devilish smile plays on his lips.

  “That wasn’t aggressive, Elizabeth. You haven’t made me angry enough to see aggressive yet, or bored enough.” He smirks while kissing my neck. “What do you think? Stairs or not?” Oh, Jesus, he means it? He twitches inside me for effect. I look down at the burgundy carpet and seriously consider the prospect, then Andrews flies into my head.

  “Perhaps another time, but I think the shower could be invigorating, don’t you?” I respond, pressing my lips against his and thinking of our last session in the shower.

  “Yes, I think it could be, too. Brains as well as beauty,” he says as he begins the climb easily, still smirking and now actually pulling me down onto him harder with another one of his mesmerising growls.

  “Why thank you, Mr. White. Do you think you can make it all the way up? Not too hard?” My sarcasm apparently knows no bounds. He stops and instantly lowers my backside to the stairs with eyes sparkling with mischief.

  “Leverage,” he mutters as he pulls out of me, pushes me flatter to the floor and drops down across my chest, presenting me with his very impressive length. He rubs his fingers over my lips until I open them and smiles. “So now I’m going to deal with that smart mouth of yours, Miss Scott.”

  “Yummy,” is all my brain can think of saying in response as I suck at his fingers and watch his eyes darkening again.

  ~

  Slumping down onto his bed, I look at all the bags that are now adorning the bedroom floor. Bags of underwear, dresses, shoes, jewellery and if I’m not mistaken, there’s also a bag over there with my make-up brand stamped all over it. Where has that come from?

  While being with him has been utterly wonderful, the day in general has made me feel uncomfortable and awkward. What the hell is he trying to do? Shop me into submission now?

  Well he can buy stuff as much as he likes. It will all be staying in his wardrobe in two weeks, or I will be taking the sodding lot back. One dress is all I need, one, and perhaps some shoes, but I don’t even need that if I’m honest. I could easily have popped home and dug out one of my formal gowns. It’s not like I haven’t been to functions before. Okay, maybe not as high profile as this but still.

  Pulling myself up and sighing, I start to unpack the clothes and hang them in the wardrobe. Bizarrely, a large space has been created to the side of his clothes, which I assume is for my benefit, but when the hell that happened I have no idea.

  Sitting down on the seat in the walk in, I stare blankly at the exquisite burgundy lace over satin gown that hangs in front of me. It’s strapless and very structured. The corset is built in to give it maximum oomph in the breast department and it then skims down to the floor and fishtails at the back, all beautifully peppered with thousands of hand stitched tiny crystals. Stunning, and so was the bloody price tag. I’d stopped looking by the time the personal shopper had reached for the fourth dress that was a mere snip at only twelve thousand pounds. The shoes… Well, by the time we’d reached the shoes I’d completely given up all hope of arguing and just begun accepting what was offered. Although, even I have to admit they are utterly beautiful. They have a timeless elegance about them and are a perfect match to the dress with crystals running down the back of the heel.

  Looking around the rest of the clothes, I hold my head in my hands and sigh again. This whole thing is utterly absurd. This money could have gone to his charity or something else as deserving.

  “What’s the matter?” I hear softly from the entrance. I turn to see a worried looking Alex leaning against the frame, frowning with his arms crossed.

  “Nothing,” I reply, getting up and walking to him. I put my loveliest smile on, seriously not wanting an argument to ruin this evening.

  His head tilts to the side as he smiles and reaches for me, pulling me into his arms and kissing my nose.

  “It’s because you didn’t want it, you know?”

  “Excuse me?” I say in confusion as I look at him.

  “The reason I bought it all, it’s because you didn’t want it. You really did look adorable pouting like that all day. I couldn’t help but keep dragging you into the next shop,” he says, laughing at me, almost to the point of combusting, those blue eyes of his twinkling with devilment.

  I stare in shock at his display of hilarity. Am I that damned amusing?

  “You, Mr. White, are an arsehole,” I practically shout as I storm out of his embrace and head for the bedroom. He catches up with me, quickly snagging my arm to turn me around. I try for affronted, failing as he smiles again. “I’m just not comfortable with it all, Alex.”

  “Of course you’re not, and that is why I want to do it. You’ve never looked lovelier than you did when you threw my credit card out of the window,” he says, kissing me quickly and launching - yes launching - like a sixteen-year-old towards the stairs.

  I smirk at the thought of that credi
t card, slowly following him from the room. It had been my attempt to stop him spending money. Andrews, unfortunately, very quickly retrieved it and the shopping had continued. “Now, if you’ve finished with your temper tantrum, I’d like a drink and we have a ball to get ready for. We need to be there for eight thirty and we’ve got a great bottle of Krug to get through before we go. Come on, chop chop,” he calls as he rounds the bottom of the stairs and takes off towards the kitchen. I continue to stare at him in amazement. Chop chop? Where the hell has this version of Alex come from?

  ~

  Lights flash everywhere. I find myself holding my hand up to deflect the brightness that surrounds me as we exit the car and make our way toward the entrance. I’ve never seen so many paparazzi and apparently they all want a shot of the inimitable Mr. Alexander White and whoever it is that’s with him. Yes, that would be me.

  “Mr. White, Mr. White, over here. Who’s the new girl and where is Rebecca Stanners. Can you give us a statement about your involvement with the charity, sir? What’s happening with the shanghai deal, sir? Are you still involved with the Bruckstein takeover? Will you be apologising for delaying the property evaluation in the east end? When was the last time you took some time off? Any holidays planned?”

  He rounds on them one by one, giving short and precise answers to each question as he pulls me close but slightly behind him. The ease of his voice is a complete revelation. He responds with true professionalism as if he’s completely at ease with the whole situation. Of course, he probably is. I’ve never really seen that much of him in business mode so this is probably perfectly normal for him. His enigmatic smile is firmly in place as he almost flirts with each individual and gains both admiring and appreciative oohs and ahs from the interviewers. I, on the other hand, feel myself cowering behind him and hoping to hell they won’t ask any questions of me.

  “Miss? Can we ask your name? Who are you and how do you know Mr. White? How long have you been together? Are you an item? Is there an engagement we should be aware of?” Oh shit, no. What the hell do I say now? My mouth flounders over words I can’t form as Alex moves in to deflect the questions with another gleaming smile just as a short and very beautiful dark-haired woman jumps in front of us and takes over. Alex smiles and starts to turn us away from the mob.

  “Thank you, ladies and gentleman. Mr. White has said enough for now and after all, he does have a busy night sucking the money out of everyone. We wouldn’t want to wear him out now, would we? How would that be of benefit to the charity? Please ask any furthering questions of the press office at White Industries,” she says as she ushers us backwards and throws me a dazzling smile.

  “Miranda, that was rather efficient timing.” Alex chortles at her.

  “No problem, Mr. White. Miss Scott, you look beautiful,” she says to me. I have no idea who the hell she is but she’s absolutely wonderful in my books.

  “Thank you,” I reply Miranda, who has saved my arse.

  “Are you okay?” he whispers as he clasps onto my hand tightly and leads me into the Ritz.

  “I don’t know if I’m honest. That was quite bizarre. Is that normal for you?”

  “Yes, that is very normal for me and with any luck, it will become very normal for you, too,” he responds with a captivating smile as he pulls me towards his very inviting lips. A sudden flash breaks through our moment and Alex pulls back immediately and tucks me into his chest as he glares across my shoulder viciously.

  “Get that fucker now, Miranda. I swear if that shot is in print tomorrow, you’ll never work again,” he seethes quietly as she launches herself at the man who has taken the picture, almost wrangling him to the floor in desperation. Andrews appears out of nowhere and quickly manhandles the photographer to the side of the room with rather impressive force, depositing him on a chair. The camera is wrenched from his neck and taken off somewhere by Miranda.

  “Fucking parasites, the lot of them. I fucking hate this shit,” Alex sneers as he put his hand on my back and gently pushes me into the lobby, looking over his shoulder. “Mind you, who wouldn’t want to take pictures of you?” he says as his eyes soften and he takes us toward the bar.

  Chapter 28

  Elizabeth

  I am completely out of my happy zone.

  The venue is too stupendously extravagant, the food and company are astonishingly overwhelming and the table we are sitting at is so full of wealth I can’t even begin to comprehend how to act around these people. No amount of Alex’s encouraging words or gestures are making me feel comfortable here as they all discuss their various holiday homes, yachts and million pound deals. The diamonds that drip off the women around me are simply astounding and as they look down their noses at me with something close to disgust hiding behind their ridiculous smiles, I am shrivelling into a ball of mush.

  After course three has been cleared and the table has resumed its cordial chatting, which, for the women anyway, is more like a constant quiet bitch fight, I know I have to get out of here. I have tried, really I have, but there are just too many of them. I thought I was getting good at this pretending, or even believing myself that I was actually getting the hang of discussing things with these people, but I can’t keep it up. I just don’t have enough interesting conversation to keep up with the amount of people who have pounced on us.

  From the moment we entered the bar area, the highest of London’s society and a good few of the European ones have hit us from all angles. Alex has, of course, been witty, charming and deceptively cunning in his sweep of the room, quickly moving between people, determining who has the most money and ensuring that they pledge as much as they can. He’s also been ridiculously accomplished at his task and before we even sat down I was pretty sure he’d secured a fair few million. He has kept me close and given me nothing but beautiful smiles and adoring eyes all night, but I just can’t shake the feeling of being absolutely out of place in this room with these people. Watching him manipulate the room with the precision of a panther has only reminded me of my incapability to do him justice. I just have to get some air and ten minutes of privacy. Maybe I can rally myself again after that. I can but hope anyway.

  Excusing myself from the table, I make my way to the restroom, glancing back to see Alex in deep conversation with the stupidly stunning Mrs Bessie Stapleton, wife of Richard Stapleton, the right honourable owner of pretty much everything in London as far as I can tell. Taking a deep breath as I head out of the door, I hear my name being called from somewhere. Turning, I find a surprisingly friendly face attached to a body adorned in a deep blue dress that matches her eyes and I gratefully move toward her in the hope of some normalcy to the evening.

  “Beth, what are you doing here? How wonderful to see you. I almost didn’t recognise you. You look so… grown up, and bloody gorgeous by the way,” Sarah says as she walks toward me and gives me a quick hug.

  “Sarah, thank god for a friendly face. I am utterly at a loss as to what I’m doing here as well,” I reply giggling. “If only I’d known, I probably would have told Alex to go to hell.”

  “Alex? A new boyfriend?” she enquires, smiling conspiratorially with her radiant smile and her blonde hair bouncing enthusiastically. “Show me which one is he.”

  “Sort of, and I doubt I’ll need to show you. I’m pretty sure you know who Mr. White is. Everyone else seems to,” I reply smiling. Her body stiffens a little, probably out of shock I suppose, and then she relaxes a little and links her arm in mine.

  “Well, that’s interesting. So when did that start up?” she asks as we walk into the restroom.

  “Not that long ago, just beginning really. Anyway, I can’t believe you’re here. I don’t think I’ve seen you for two years. It must have been Belle’s twenty-fifth birthday,” I reply, recalling the memory of the very drunken evening. “How’s Henry?” She immediately frowns a little and waves her hand about.

  “He’s here somewhere, probably inspecting his newest conquest I should think.” Oh!

/>   “Anyway, let’s not talk about him. How’s Belle? I keep meaning to call her but you know how it is. I hear your business is doing very well lately. I dare say that’s how you met Alexander. I heard you were doing his lunches now.”

  “Yes, we’re doing well, thank you. I tell you what, why don’t we finish up in here and then head to the bar for a while? I could really use a stiff drink and a happy chit chat for a bit.”

  “Fabulous idea. I think I’ve serviced the table well enough for a while,” she replies as she applies her lipstick and I head into the toilet. “The bitches have been placated so to speak.”

  Almost an hour later, I watch Alex sweep into the bar with a slight frown marring his incredibly edible face. Having had a few more drinks and a very giggly catch up with Sarah, I’ve really begun to loosen up and enjoy the evening. I feel relaxed at last and after a severe ear bashing about how beautiful I look from Sarah, I have thankfully begun to believe I have a right to be here again. She left a while ago and now I’m talking to a very sweet young couple who are very interested in hiring us to cater for their wedding next year. Alex’s eyes find mine in the crowd and I pretty much feel the growl as he stalks his way toward me. God, he looks divine, the crowd parting for him as he keeps his eyes fixed on mine.

  The dinner suit is cut to perfection and only emphasizes his incredible physique. The white shirt with black buttons and black silk cummerbund accentuate his shoulders and pull me towards his delicious looking neck, which is of course, encased in a black bow tie that I tied for him before we left the house. He is sex personified. There isn’t a man in the room that comes close to the masculinity that pours from his existence. Licking my lips and feeling my panties start their ridiculous combusting overture, I smirk and tighten my thighs.