Ditching The Dream (Dream Series)

by Isabelle Peterson

  When I slipped the dress over my shoulders I felt truly elegant. I glanced down and observed the thigh high slit up the left side of the skirt.

  I wasn’t sure when he got out of his chair, and I didn’t hear the shoe box open, but there was Jack at my feet with one of the Rossi’s in hand. I balanced on my left foot and proffered my right to him. The shoe slipped on, and I almost cried at how beautiful it was on my foot. And how nice it felt. When Jack went to slip the left shoe on, I had to place a hand on Jack’s shoulder to balance myself.

  Jack slipped back into his chair and his eyes raked over me, very slowly.

  “Turn,” he commanded. I started to turn. When my back was to him, I heard his breath hiss as he sucked in air through his teeth. Completing the rotation, I don’t know why, but I wasn’t expecting what I saw on his face. Lust. Desire. Admiration.

  “Fits like it was made for you.”

  It did feel perfect. I was anxious to see how I looked. My eyes glanced around, hoping to find a shiny surface so I could get a glimpse. But with all the sunshine outside, I couldn’t see my reflection inside.

  “You are simply elegant. Très CoCo Channel.”

  I felt my cheeks flood with color.

  “That’s the shade,” he groaned. “Did you know that you blush the color of the dress? Yes. This gown was made for you. You are not allowed to return it.”

  I had to admit, once I had it on, I didn’t want to return it. It felt divine.

  Jack walked over to a wall of cupboards and opened the tall door revealing a wide, full-length mirror. Crooking his finger, and cocking his head, he lured me to the mirror. As steady as I could, I walked over. I stepped into the mirror’s reflection and gasped.

  The dress. Was. Perfect.

  The front was a gentle cowl neckline that scooped lower than anything I would have considered, the opening extending to the bottom of the curve of my breasts. If I turned too quickly, someone would get an eyeful. The slit on the left thigh came three quarters of the way up my thigh. I poked my leg out with its frightfully gorgeous shoe. Suddenly I was feeling very ‘Angelina Jolie.’ I couldn’t help but recall that her leg had gotten a twitter account after its appearance at an awards show. I wondered if my leg could compete.

  Jack carefully placed his hands on my shoulders and gently turned me, so I could see the back, or what little there was of it. The back scooped in similar fashion as the front, but reached the small of my back. Not quite to my skivvies, but close. The fabric collected and hung there gently and seductively. Even my ass looked good.

  “Now, I have to leave in about five minutes to catch a flight to Paris. Vogue. You cannot keep them waiting.” His voice was strained and hoarse with the need I saw building in his trousers. He tucked a finger under my chin and lifted my face to his. “So, the question is this. Do I bend you on my desk and fuck you quickly? Or do I bottle the desire you’ve created and unleash it all on Friday, in numerous and creative ways?”

  I licked my lips. My core was a soupy mess. My knees started to tremble.

  “You know that I need to hear your answer, Beth. What’s it going to be?”

  “Um,” I muttered. I ran my hands down over the front of the dress as it hugged every curve. I didn’t want anything to happen to it before I could wear it to the theatre. “I think it’s best if we wait until Friday,” I answered as confidently as I could.

  “Friday it is,” he agreed. He bent down and kissed me slowly and deeply, his hands exploring my bare back. His kisses moved to my neck and up to behind my ear as his right hand dipped down into the dress and covered my left cheek, giving it a firm squeeze. “I would have preferred to fuck you here and now, but I will honor your wish,” he breathed into my ear. “The next three days will be torture. But for you, it will be worth it.”

  He kissed my lips again and stood back. He adjusted his erection that pressed urgently against his zipper, and strode to the door, grabbing a suitcase I hadn’t noticed. “Take your time getting dressed and pack that ensemble carefully. I can’t wait to see you in it again. I’ll see you at four o’clock on Friday.” He winked, and then gallantly exited his office closing the door behind him.

  CHAPTER 37

  When I got home I was relieved that Phoebe wasn’t back from her appointment at NBC. I pushed the Bergdorf boxes under my bed and picked up my phone to ring Jess. I couldn’t sort all of this out in my head. I needed my sounding board.

  “Are you calling to thank me for your birthday gift? Did you use it yet? Isn’t it amazing? Don’t you wish you’d gotten one years ago?” she launched in, flinging questions at me with the excitement of a kid in a candy store.

  She always had the ability to make me laugh, and this was no exception. “Wait a second, let me think about it. I think the answers are: Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes,” I giggled into the phone.

  “See,” she gloated. “You know what? We should have a sex toy party at the next Book Club get together. When you come home. You are coming home, right? Or have you fallen in love with – wait! Are you just getting in from your date with Jackass Jack? That’s a loooonnngg date. What — a week long? Did he have you tied up and was he using you as a sex slave?”

  Seriously. How did she do that? “Sorry, I know I was supposed to call but it’s been twenty directions of crazy here. Do you have time to talk?”

  “Hon, I was kidding. Are you okay?” her voice heavy with concern.

  “Yes. No. I have no idea. I’m really making a mess of things.”

  “Sit. Tell me what’s going on,” she urged.

  I spent the next half an hour filling her in on the past two weeks.

  Jack getting me to his place that first time, and the hallway that started my downward spiral into debauchery. Dinner, dancing and third base with Kevin. Followed by dinner with Jack and a “lesson”. Then Kevin showing me around Times Square, followed by incredible sex including cake. Then Jack revealing he’s a Dom and mind-blowing sex, followed by an intimate conversation where I told him I knew who he was, and him telling me he knew who I was, interrupted by Phoebe landing at JFK and Jack saving the day. About Kevin taking Phoebe out to a concert and how that made me a tad jealous. Then Jack taking Phoebe and I to dinner and helping Phoebe with schools and a summer internship. Then today’s delivery of the dress and shoes and opera tickets and spa treatment, which I wasn’t even sure I’d do yet.

  “Whoa. That’s some score card, lady! You are my new hero,” she sighed.

  “Jess, it’s not funny. I’m still a married woman. I thought I’d decided to divorce Greg. I mean if I could do all of this with Kevin and Jack, then I can’t really love him, right?”

  Just then the front door opened and Phoebe rushed in bubbling over with excitement. “Mom! You wouldn’t believe the –”

  I stopped her, pointing to my phone at my ear. Kids! Even at nineteen-years old, the fact that a parent is on the phone, was an open invitation to talk.

  “Hey, Jess. I gotta go. Phoebe just got home. I’ll call you later?”

  “Sure thing, hon. I’ll be home all night. Besides, I need to talk to you about something,” she replied. “Oh, and Bets?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Happy Birthday. I love you.”

  “Thanks. I love you, too.” I set the phone aside and turned my attention to Phoebe.

  I spent the next hour listening to Phoebe wax poetic about NYU and Columbia and NBC. She was most excited over the internship opportunity. There are only a few intern positions that she could qualify for this summer, but Alex, Jack’s friend, said that if she could get all of her paperwork in order and submitted by the week’s end, she’d have a good chance at the one of the openings.

  “So, what show are we going to see on Broadway tonight?”

  Shit! I totally forgot about looking into that. Then I remembered my tour of Times Square, courtesy of Kevin.

  “Let’s swing by the Hot TKTS booth at Times Square and see what’s available and decide together. If we leave in a half an ho
ur that should be enough time to stand in line for a while to get tickets. Then we can grab something to eat before the show.”

  After an hour and twenty minutes in line at the Hot TKTS booth, we had tickets to see The Book of Mormon. We found a quiet deli off of the main drag and enjoyed each other’s company until we had to run off to the theatre. It was really nice to have this mature relationship that had magically happened with my daughter. For too many years we were at each other’s throats.

  The show was fantastic and my sides hurt from laughing so hard. I don’t think I will ever hear a doorbell in quite the same way. Phoebe and I made it home around eleven thirty and basically collapsed from exhaustion. I was so relieved when I realized I didn’t have to work tomorrow.

  All in all, I’d had a great forty-third birthday.

  From the living room sofa, Phoebe called out, “Mom?”

  “Yes, honey.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too, honey,” I said, grinning ear to ear.

  “And…”

  “What?” I asked with barely enough energy to reply.

  “Dad just texted. He wanted me to tell you ‘Happy birthday.’ ”

  Not the last thing I wanted to hear. I felt a tears sting my eyes. What was I doing?

  “Mom? Did you hear me?” Phoebe called.

  “I did. Thanks, hon. Good night.”

  Well, it still had been a pretty good birthday.

  I laid in bed for a half an hour unable to find sleep. Too many things tickling through my mind. I wished I’d been able to finish talking to Jessica. It was only twelve-thirty, nine-thirty in California. She’s likely still up. I couldn’t call from the apartment in case Phoebe was still awake, or woke up. Then I remembered the rooftop patio that the building offered. It was after midnight and I hoped they didn’t close the area.

  Quietly, I got out of bed and went to the living room. Phoebe was snoring softly, so I mixed myself a Mudslide before I grabbed my phone and one of my new Pashmina’s, and started up to the rooftop.

  I dialed her up as I stepped out of the elevator onto the rooftop. It was really nice up here. Several lawn chairs with plush cushions. Side tables sprinkled throughout. Large pots with flowers growing in them. The flooring was done like a deck with two-by-fours. What had taken me so long to come and explore this place? Oh yeah, my job and two men who kept me extremely busy.

  “Hello?” Jess answered her phone, but she didn’t sound like Jess. Sounded like a crying Jess.

  “Hey, hon. You okay? Why are you crying?”

  “Hormones. Don’t mind me. I’m glad you called back. What are you going to do?”

  I took a sip of my drink and started over to the chairs to find one. “I don’t know Jess. This is really effed up. I’ve really fallen so hard for both Kevin and –”

  Rounding the front of the chairs, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  “Bets? You okay?” Jess asked.

  “Um, I gotta go,” I muttered and didn’t even wait for a reply. I simply pressed ‘End.’

  “Fancy meeting you here,” Kevin said, peering up from the recliner. He was wearing a pair of plaid sleeping pants, a T-shirt, and had bare feet. God he had gorgeous feet. How had I not noticed that before?

  “What are you doing up here?” I asked.

  “Couldn’t sleep.” He picked up a bottle from the floor, topping off whatever he had in his glass, and took a sip. He licked his luscious lips and his eyes scanned the sky. “Sometimes when I look at the stars it helps. Have a seat,” he said, waving his hand to the lounger next to him.

  I popped off my sandals and took a seat. Leaning back, I pulled my feet up. I suddenly felt half naked as I hadn’t taken the time to put real clothes on. I hadn’t expected to run into anyone. Here I was in my silk sleeping pants, cami and a Pashmina.

  “I wanted to say thank you for taking Phoebe to the Luke Bryan concert. She had a fantastic time.”

  “She’s a great girl. You should be proud,” he said, taking another sip of his drink. “I’m sorry I’ve not been by.”

  “It’s okay. No worries,” I assured him.

  I examined the sky with him. “It’s beautiful,” I said, recalling nights in Colorado with my father. My sister Suzie off to college, fire-pits were never much of a thing for Mom, so it was something Dad and I did regularly.

  “So many more that you can’t see with the city lights. The night sky in Texas is incredible. I bet the same for Napa?” Kevin uttered.

  “Yeah, but I don’t think I ever really paid attention. I remember the skies when I was a kid in Colorado. My dad tried to teach me the constellations, but I could never make heads or tails of them.”

  We watched the stars quietly for a few minutes. Then Kevin busied himself with his phone. The tune The Way You Look Tonight, by Michael Bublé, started streaming through the phone’s speaker. Kevin stood and extended a hand to me. “Ever dance under the stars?” I shook my head and took his hand, a smile breaking out across my face.

  I stood and dropped my Pashmina on the chair. Kevin set our drinks on the small table next to his phone. He swooped me in into his arms, and with ‘Dancing With The Stars’ posture and technique, guided us around the patio in a proper dance hold. We settled into the dance moves and Kevin started to crooned along with Michael, not missing a word or beat. Effortlessly, Kevin moved us around the rooftop patio under the stars. He had a beautiful singing voice. God didn’t miss a trick when he created Kevin.

  The lyrics waxed poetic about tenderness and letting fears go, and affecting the man’s heartbeat, as foolish as his heart may be, all because of how the woman looked to him.

  The way Kevin’s hips were pressed against mine, and his strong arm around my back, my hormones leapt into action, causing my foolish heart to crave things. He brought his head into the crook of my neck and buried a kiss, then continued to sing.

  We danced the rest of the song, gazing into one another’s eyes, our bodies moving as one, holding on for dear life.

  “This is a foxtrot,” he said. “A classic.” Kevin used the whole rooftop to move us around. As the song ended, Kevin leaned me against the wall of the elevator shaft and sang the last lines. I was so caught up in the intensity of Kevin’s gaze that I barely heard the lyrics, but something about love. He can’t love me. Can he? But the look in his eyes sure says that.

  The song ended and, although I was sure there were sirens and car sounds on the streets fifteen stories below us, I couldn’t hear them. All I heard was my heavy breath. Kevin’s breath. My heart pounding in my ears. And the cool concrete that I was leaning against did little to control the fire that the dancing and lyrics had ignited.

  His eyes searched mine. He was looking for an answer to his little declaration with the song. It was written all over his face. I leaned forward and kissed his lips. Gently at first, but once my lips touched his, they grew greedy. I tasted the Southern Comfort on his mouth. Coupled with the Mudslide in my mouth, it was heavenly. I pulled my arms from our dance hold and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him closer to me.

  He leaned into me and snaked his hand up my top, groaning into my mouth. I pressed my hips against his hard cock, suddenly needing so much more than his hand under my shirt. I checked out around the rooftop and the darkened windows of neighboring buildings.

  “Have you ever… you know… in public?” I asked against his lips.

  He pulled back and gave me a sly grin. “No. Have you?”

  I shook my head and bit my lip. He wriggled his eyebrows at me and his mouth crashed back on mine. I pushed at him and walked us back to the lounge chairs. I grabbed my drink and downed the rest of it, needing a bit of liquid courage for what I was about to do. Apparently so did Kevin, because he did the same.

  I stepped one leg over the lounger straddling it, and took a seat, encouraging Kevin to follow suit. Sitting and straddling, we leaned into one another and started kissing like wild teenagers. His hands dove to the bottom of my cami and slid it u
p my body. I pulled back and smiled wide as he slipped it over my head. He sat back for a better look, and smiled wide, shaking his head.

  “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but good God almighty, I’m glad for it,” he drawled.

  I pulled at the hem of his shirt, and he helped me work it off his magnificent form. Awash in moonlight, his body took on an ethereal quality. He was a god. His tattoos were more seductive, his chiseled muscles were more pronounced, and even his smile was brighter.

  Feeling a chill, I pulled him to me, needing his warmth, and he eagerly obliged. We laid down on the lounger, and he slipped a leg in between mine, grinding on my throbbing junction. My hips moved along with his leg, desperately crying out for release.

  His hands slipped into the waistband of my silk pants and slunk them down over my hips, as I did the same to him. Apparently he sleeps commando because there were only the pants, no boxer briefs. His cock sprung forth and slapped against my belly, hot and ready.

  I reached between us and took hold of his manhood, velvety and warm, and relished the feel of it in my hand. I felt it twitch to my touch. I loved that I could cause such a reaction.

  Kevin slid his body down mine, dragging his lips along the way until he reached my breasts. Greedily, he took my left breast in his mouth and his hand secured itself to my right breast. His tongue swirled around the nipple, nipping and sucking. I dug my hands into his thick, dark hair, urging him onward. He spent several minutes paying attention to my mounds, but I had other areas that needed attention.

  I dropped my hands from his hair and slid down his back, pulling upward. Kevin responded eagerly and his mouth claimed mine. I loved that he was as lost in the feelings as I was. Again, taking his pulsing member in my hand, I aligned him to my entrance. Without a moment’s hesitation, he plunged into me, pushing my head into the seat’s back. I moaned with pleasure and gripped his shoulders. He withdrew slightly and smiled hopefully at me. I grinned in return. He took note, and pushed in again and again.