by Amanda Aksel
“I thought you might be homesick for waffles and omelets.”
“Really?” She hints at a smile like she’s unsure if that’s true. And it is true.
“That and I like it here,” I say, perusing the options.
Kate makes a clicking noise with her mouth. “Just more evidence of you being a James Dean wannabe.”
“Did you ever consider that maybe James Dean was a Drew wannabe?”
“Considering he died at least thirty years before your birth, no. Hey! Maybe you’re his reincarnation—poppin’ wheelies and stealin’ hearts.”
I glance at her over the plastic menu. “You can’t steal someone’s heart. They have to give it to you.”
Her eyes meet mine and she hesitates for a moment before saying, “That’s exactly right.”
I go back to the menu, trying to find something new even though I always end up with fried eggs, white toast, hash browns, and orange juice. “So, are you going to tell me how you found my flat?” Especially since I’m unlisted. And if I were, I wouldn’t be listed under Drew Blake.
Kate crinkles her adorable nose. “Is it still called a flat when it’s a ginormous penthouse?”
“Well, if I called it a penthouse, I’d sound pretentious, wouldn’t I?”
“Oh no, we wouldn’t want you to sound pretentious even though we both know you’re as wealthy as the Queen.” She deepens her voice and purses her mouth to mock me. I did leave her hanging yesterday, so I’ll endure a few jabs.
“Eh, that’s a bit of a stretch. But since you seem to be the one stalking me, you probably already know my net worth.” I raise my brows with a stern look, folding my arms over my chest.
“Fine. I didn’t know how to get in touch with you, so I had Garret figure it out. He’s been here less than a week and he’s already made a million friends. It only took him an hour to text me your address.”
That’s a little scary. Even though I keep to myself, and a select few, a lot of people know me in this town. I just didn’t know they also knew where to find me. “And who exactly did he get that from?”
“I have no idea. Probably some woman you brought back to your flat one night.”
“You’re funny,” I say, though that is a likely possibility.
Her eyes drop back to the wide selection of breakfast options, and I sneak glances at her as a classic doo-wop-inspired Billy Joel song plays overhead. I look back at my menu pretending not to care when the two of us hum the melody of the song at the same time. Our eyes meet and her smile sparkles in the overhead light.
“You know Billy Joel?” she asks.
“He’s one of my all-time favorites.”
She narrows her eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
I remove my phone from my jacket pocket, pull up my music app, and scroll through the long artist list. There he is, Billy Joel. “Here. Proof.”
She takes my phone and taps her finger against the screen. Her brow lifts “Okay, I believe you now.”
She seems to scroll through the hundred or so songs I have of his. “Wait,” she says, sputtering a laugh. “Why do you have Barry Manilow on here?”
My cheeks flush and I lunge for the tattletale phone. She dodges me, giggling as she keeps her eyes glued to the screen.
I scoff. “It must be from a soundtrack or something. I don’t listen to Barry Manilow.”
“Then why does your app say you listened to ‘Copacabana’ 137 times?”
Now my cheeks are turning three shades pinker. “All right, fine.” I raise my hands in the air. “It’s my drunk song.” I can’t believe I just told her that. No one knows that. Sometimes I reveal myself when I get really pissed on whiskey and start singing about Lola and Tony. But I deny it in the morning over aspirin and a tall glass of water.
“What do you mean, it’s your drunk song?” Kate asks.
“It’s the song I sing sometimes when I’m really drunk.”
“One hundred and thirty seven is a lot of sometimes.” She laughs and I almost don’t care that it’s at my expense. I’d rather swim in the sound of her joy, sober or not, than listen to any singer who can rock a piano.
“What? Like you don’t have an embarrassing drunk song.”
“Actually, I do,” she says, returning my phone.
“Really?” I didn’t expect her to say that.
“It’s not an embarrassing song, but when I sing it drunk . . . it’s embarrassing.”
“What is it?”
“‘We Didn’t Start the Fire,’” she says.
I laugh, imagining drunk Kate trying to keep up with the quick tongue-tying lyrics. Does anyone besides Billy Joel even know the lyrics to that song? “Yeah, I see why that might be embarrassing.”
“If we ever get shit-faced drunk together, we’ll have ourselves a little Joel-Manilow party, won’t we?”
“I suppose we will.”
After knocking down that wall, talking with her over breakfast is much easier. Kate seems to ease up too, laughing a lot as the conversation goes on. She asks me personal questions, and I give her totally honest answers, several times thinking that I’m mental for doing so. But I remind myself that it’s just breakfast. She’ll be back home in the City of Angels in a couple of weeks, and I’ll never see her again.
When breakfast is over, I drive her to her shop. She slides off easily and removes her helmet, handing it back to me.
“Thanks for breakfast,” she says.
“You’re welcome.”
“And sorry for waking you up like that this morning.” Her pounding on the door was not the kind of pounding I prefer to wake up with in the morning. “It’s just our encounters have been so . . . you know?” I nod, thinking I understand what she’s saying. “But this was fun, talking with you casually as Drew, and not some James Dean wannabe.”
“Are you ever going to stop calling me that?” I ask. Very few people could get away with calling me that as many times as she has.
She looks up, tapping her finger to her mouth. “I doubt it.”
I just want to kiss her. But if I start now, I know I’ll never stop. So I curl my lips in a smile, revving the throttle. “See ya later, Kate.”
“See ya.” She waves, then waltzes into the store. This time, I have her number. And I will be seeing her later.
***
Much later, at half past eight, I’ve waited long enough and my night is free. I send her a quick text.
DREW: Wanna go for a ride?
KATE: Now?
DREW: It’s not past your bedtime, is it?
KATE: You wish I were in bed.
She’s wrong. I wish she were in my bed.
KATE: How soon can you be here?
DREW: Fifteen minutes . . .
My heart races with the speed of my motorbike as I cruise over to Kate’s hotel. And there’s actually a quivering in my stomach. Am I nervous? No girl has made me nervous since I was in eleventh grade. And that’s only because she was a university student with the biggest real rack I’d ever seen. To this day, I haven’t seen tits that big.
When I pull up to the curb of the Corinthian, Kate’s walking through the revolving doors, strutting in a pair of knee-high boots and a naughty, black leather skirt. Mmm, I wet my bottom lip. She looks delicious and I’m sure she wants to ride.
Kate greets me with a coy smile as I hand her the helmet. I wait for her to straddle the bike and grab on before we speed off into the night. She seems to get a little more comfortable on the motorbike each time. You wouldn’t even know that just yesterday she tried to talk her way out of riding. Now, the girl can’t get enough.
I zip through the London streets, passing Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, Trafalgar Square, and ride across the brightly lit Tower Bridge. By the way she moves her hips behind me, squeezing her thighs against me, I know she’s enjoying the ride. A lot. I pull around to Hyde Park and find a place to park.
“Feel like taking a walk?” I ask.
“Sure,” she says. I take her hand
and help her off the motorbike, keeping her dainty hand safe in mine while we stroll into the park.
“Are we even allowed to be here this late?” she asks, glancing around the lamp-lit path.
I chuckle. “See, I knew you were a Goody Two-Shoes.”
Kate glares at me for a moment, her eyes glinting in the yellow light. “Goody Two-Shoes?”
“Yeah, you follow the rules, particularly your own rules, and you do the right thing. You’re the kind of girl that doesn’t have an ulterior motive. Not a sinister one at least.”
“What?” she scoffs. “Why do you think I have self-inflicted rules to abide by?”
“Don’t you?” She probably thinks I wasn’t paying attention to our conversations at the pub and at breakfast, but I picked up on a few clues.
She gives an emphatic, “No!” then goes silent for a few moments. “I mean, my list of don’ts is way longer than my list of dos.” I hope I’m on her do list. “But that doesn’t mean I have rules.”
“That’s exactly what it means.” I chuckle. “And by the way, the park’s closed, so we’re not technically supposed to be here.”
She gasps playfully, covering her mouth. “You mean we’re breaking the rules?” I can’t tell if she’s mocking herself or me. But I’m done with jokes and jabs. I need to touch her, kiss her, something more.
I stop the stroll and tug her into me, holding onto the curve of her hips. “Yeah, you must feel like a right rebel now.”
Kate tilts her chin up, the tip of her nose grazing mine. “I do feel a little naughty now that you mention it.” Her words are strong enough to carry the lack of confidence in her voice. I can tell that she doesn’t ordinarily say things like that or do things like this. It’s like I get to be the one to tear down her walls and rules and break her out of that shell that’s been holding her hostage for who knows how long.
I tuck my hand behind her ear and pull her in. Her lips part, inviting me. I know she’s wanted me to kiss her since we met, but I can’t rush into her the way my body is screaming for me to do. Her tongue swipes over her pink, glossy lips. I can’t wait to suck on them like candy. I plant a teasing kiss on her bottom lip and breathe, filling my lungs with her fruity, floral scent. My mouth tickles hers, then I move in, massaging her warm, velvety tongue with mine. It tastes sweet but plays with my tongue in a spicy way. Kate moans and moves her arm inside my open jacket, pulling me even closer. Oh yeah, my cock’s waking up like its sunrise.
Thunder rolls overhead with a loud crash but we don’t stop for a breath, much less to take stock of the changing weather. A chilled breeze whips my hair but I ignore it. Soon, droplets of rain fall on our heads. Slow at first and then harder and faster. She looks up, squinting, rain splattering on her face. I wipe her cheeks to no avail.
“Come this way!” I yell, pulling her over. We run across the grass and hunch down to get under the umbrella-like branches of a nearby weeping beech tree. The perfect place to hide from the rain. She laughs that gorgeous laugh, both of us panting, trying to catch our breath.
“Oh, my God. I haven’t seen rain like this in forever,” she says, pushing her soaked hair out of her face.
“Really?” I ask, then remember that she’s from Southern California.
“Yeah but I like it.”
Under the shadow of the tree, I can’t really make out the rise and fall of her chest, but I can feel it. The light catches her eye, and I can see her smiling in the dark. She yanks on my jacket and I crash into her and walk her back against the tree trunk. I rub my mouth along her jaw and down her neck, grabbing a handful of her bare thigh and inching my hand up her skirt. I’ve waited long enough. I have to feel her now.
She moans as I slowly pull down the zip of her leather jacket. “Wait,” she says. “Are you sure it’s safe out here?”
“I told you, I won’t let anything happen to you,” I whisper, licking the edge of her ear, nibbling it gently.
Kate’s hands travel up underneath my shirt, and she digs the tips of her fingers in my back. I grab a handful of her gorgeous ass and squeeze it with my fingers. Her skirt rises up to her hips when I grab the other cheek. I kiss her neck, then trace one side of her collarbone with my tongue down her chest. Kate spreads her legs, tilting her hips forward. I draw my finger down the lace of her panties and slip a digit inside, sliding up to her slippery clit. “You’re so wet.”
She lets out a sexy whimper and her body opens and releases, spilling more bliss on my hand. My fingers curl inside her, finding a swollen spot near the top. I tap on it like a telegraph, sending her a message to come all over me. It’s not long before she screams out in pleasure and grips onto my shoulders. Pretty sure the message was received. I watch her face and the way her breath bends around her moans.
“You must be breaking so many rules right now,” I whisper, slowing my pace, kissing her softly. She smiles with a breathless laugh. My hands ride up the curve of her waist and under her top. Her nipples harden beneath the rub of my fingertips. Kate thrusts her hips forward, rubbing against my cock that’s harder than the bloody tree trunk. I lower my stance, pushing her shirt up to reveal the breasts that I’d already gotten an eyeful of during the shoot. Even in the dark I know her tits are gorgeous. This time, I don't waste a second before I take one of her sweet, pink nipples in my mouth.
She grabs my hair, lowering her cheek onto the top of my head, breathing heavily in my ear. I look up and kiss her again. Locked at the mouth, she wrestles my belt loose and snaps the button open on my jeans. The sound of my zipper falling is like music to my ears. “Fuck, you’re so sexy,” I growl in the base of my throat.
She smirks, tugging on her lower lip. “Uh-huh.”
Kate reaches into my underpants and grips onto my throbbing rod, caressing it up and down, before grabbing a handful of my balls. I lean my head back and close my eyes. Oh, my God. This girl’s hands are amazing. One of a kind. She pushes my pants down my hips and my cock springs free.
“I don’t care about the rules. I just want you,” she whispers.
My hands roam low again, dipping to the back of her hips, and I find a little ribbon at the top of her ass. I know that ribbon. She’s wearing the same thong as during the photo shoot. And now I get to tug it loose. The fabric gives, falling to the ground. Kate is my dream girl right now. Not only did she wear easy access knickers, but she invented them too.
I cup her face in my hands and kiss her hard. “You are so delicious,” I say.
She giggles like I’m the first one who’s ever told her that. Maybe I am. I pull a condom out from my jacket pocket and slide it on over my shaft. We kiss and I lean her against the tree, moving my hips softly back and forth, feeling how wet she is through the rubber. I lower my stance and slip inside her, excruciatingly slow. I don’t know if it’s the fact that we’re in a public park in the rain, but I can’t remember the last time I was this excited. It takes all of my control to keep the pace steady and not lose myself right here, three seconds in. She moans another sexy whimper as I slide in and out of her delicious pussy. I watch her eyes roll back and close, turning her head away slightly. She grabs onto my ass, motioning my hips forward, harder, then faster. It’s all the encouragement I need. I wrap her legs around me, pinning her against the tree, the back of my hand scraping over the rough bark as I pick up the speed to frenzied and pound into her.
“Oh, Drew,” she whispers with heavy breaths. “I’m coming.” I keep my pace, knowing that I don’t want to hold it in any longer either. I thrust hard, feeling the release, an explosion more powerful than the lightning overhead.
“Fuck,” I whisper as my orgasm rips through me.
I slow my hips and kiss her mouth, softly, the two of us moaning together. When I finally stop moving, her legs tremble around my waist and I know that if I let them, mine would wobble like jelly too. She finally opens her eyes and smiles, letting out a little giggle.
A satisfied grin spreads across my face. “I’ve been wanting to do that s
ince the moment I saw you.”
She kisses me under that tree, the rain beginning to lift. “Me too.”
Five
KATE
That was the hottest sex I’ve ever had. I’ve heard about ridiculously amazing encounters but I didn’t know they were that good. As much as I want to say, “Damn, I’ve been missing out,” I can’t. If I had been under that tree with anyone else, I know the experience would have fallen short. Something about Drew . . . why him? Why now?
Last night I was able to finally quench my thirst, but the satisfaction doesn’t last long. This morning I woke up with an insatiable craving for him, thinking about how every touch from him sets my skin on fire. My stomach is still fluttering. I came twice last night. That never happens. I didn’t expect any of it to happen—the ride, the rain, the bang. Just the thought of him drives me wild. I always scoffed at Beau’s term sex soul mate. If that’s a real thing, I think Drew might be mine. It’s like he knew what I wanted before I did.
I stretch over the warm linens of the king-size bed, threading my hands through my hair, then down my body to my panties. I rest my hand against myself. Little Kate’s in love . . .
My eyes fly open and I pop up off the pillow.
Uh-oh.
In love? Soul mate?
These terms do not belong in my vocabulary. They’re reserved for the masochistic fools who allow themselves to be vulnerable and get their hearts broken, which seems really unnecessary to me. I shake the thought away and jump out of bed. As much as I want to slink around under the sheets, touching myself to the thought of Drew, I have a big day ahead of me.
Real models will be strutting down the catwalk in my designs for London Lingerie Fashion Week. So maybe my butterflies are more about the show and less about Drew. Though, I haven’t been this nervous since my first major fashion show. The venture capitalist who’s interested in investing in my company will be in the audience. I know the result of my show will be a legitimate factor in his decision. So it has to go well. It has to.
