by C. J. Wells
I’m the type to clean when I’m bored, yet I can’t even do that. Alex insists that we have a cleaner. A cleaner! Maria comes every two days and now avoids me like the plague - my absolute boredom resulting in my following her around, chatting, and trying to help, clearly getting to her after the first week. Unless she really can’t speak English as she initially pointed out. Humph. I honestly thought she was pulling my leg.
It’s not like I can hop in my car and go for a jaunt around L.A. - as much as I’d love to. Sadly, I have no car. Not that I necessarily need one. I could hop in a cab and boot somewhere for the day, but I’m simply uninspired to take that measure. This beach-like atmosphere day in and day out has me stuck in perpetual vacation mode. It’s funny, I always thought that permanently living on a beach, living the life of luxury, not having to work full-time, if at all, would be heaven. Well, the novelty can wear off pretty quick.
My sole solace, despite my incessant boredom, is Alex. I get to look forward to his arrival at the end of every day. Just the thought of his stunning smile lighting his face when he walks through the door has me now grinning from ear to ear as I make my way down the deck stairs towards the beach, the sand sliding between my bare toes. That quickly, my internal pity party evaporates.
Pulling my cell from my pocket I type Alex a quick message.
Subject: Thinking of you
Hi handsome. Missing you today, as always.
I love you
Aby xx
Smiling, I slide my phone back into my pocket just as the vibration alerts a new message. Wow, that was fast.
Subject: You never leave my thoughts
Perfect timing, sweetheart. Done for the day. Be there in five. Meet me out front…Have a surprise for you. And I LOVE YOU MORE.
Alex xx
A surprise? I’m giddy just thinking of what Alex has in store, sprinting towards the deck and into the house, wiping my feet off on the mat. Trudging towards the bedroom, I rush into the master bath to brush my teeth and quickly comb my fingers through my wavy hair.
Who knows what his surprise entails. Maybe he’s going to take me out? God knows I really need to get out, I think to myself, quickly applying mascara and lip-gloss. Changing into a silver tank top and white maxi skirt, I rummage through the closet for a matching shawl before making my way downstairs. Glancing at my watch, I figure I made it just in time, opening the front door.
Alex is standing on the front step, a wide smile donning his face. “Hello, beautiful,” he pulls me into his arms, placing his luscious full lips on mine, his tongue teasing, begging entry.
I kiss him back with every ounce of joy I feel at his presence, my day’s boredom effectively forgotten as I moan into his kiss.
Chuckling, he pulls back, kissing the tip of my nose. “Happy to see me, I take it,” he teases, running his hands up and down my bare arms.
“Happy might just be the understatement of the day, Mr. Tate. More like elated,” I smile in return, resting my hands against his broad chest, his heat permeating my palms.
“Well, on that note, ready for your surprise?” he asks, eyes twinkling.
“Your presence home early isn’t the surprise?” I purposely avoid his playfulness, though I’m exciting about whatever he’s decided to spring on me. Every day with Alex is full of surprises, yet for some reason this time feels different. He gait alone is telling enough, as he flashes me an excited, and oh-so heart stopping smile.
“Not quite, however I’m overjoyed that you would consider me surprise-worthy. Come this way,” he takes my hand, walking us down the path towards the front of the house.
My heart stops in my chest as we round the corner, the gleaming black Land Rover parked in the laneway, peaking my curiosity. Who owns that? I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but based on Alex’s M6 BMW parked alongside it, I can wager a guess. “Alex, what…?”
“It’s yours, Aby,” he turns to me, a boyish grin plastered across his face. “I know you’ve been somewhat house-bound these past few weeks, so I thought this might help. A slight relief to your boredom?” he grins. “And now that you have a lay of the land from our drives together, you can manage on your own.”
I’m blown away. Not only because Alex has bought me a car - and not just any car, but a freakin’ Land Rover - but also because he’s so attune to my recent boredom. I thought I’d hid it so well, not wanting to come across as juvenile. How easily I forget that Alex can read me like a book.
“Alex, I don’t know what to say…you bought me a car? A Land Rover? This is crazy,” I manage, my words a breathless release.
“Well, Maria did allude to the fact that you appeared quite,” he stops as though searching for the right words, “…uninspired, of late,” he grins. “It seemed like a good idea.”
Oh. Humph. He wasn’t attuned to my boredom - the non-English speaking cleaner told him. ‘No speaka English’ my ass. She’s a nark. An English speaking nark.
I’m honestly at a loss. I have a hard enough time with Alex refusing any contributions towards the beach house, our groceries, anything - adamant that he has the money - but to buy me a car? I simply can’t believe it. Once again I’m faced with the reality of Alex and his career, the fact that I’m in love with an incredibly rich Hollywood actor smacking me in the face. I suppose to him, buying a Land Rover on a whim - for the sole purpose of relieving my boredom - is a regular, every day happenstance.
“Say something,” he urges.
“Ummm…I’m sorry, I’m just shocked,” I reply, holding my hand to my chest. Finally shaking off the surprise, I turn to him, “Thank you, Alex. You didn’t need to do this, but thank you.”
“Don’t be silly, of course I did. You know I would do anything for you, baby,” he pulls me into his embrace. “I wish you’d told me that you were bored. I would have bought it sooner.”
I was trying to hide that from you. “It’s not your responsibility to entertain me,” I pull back to look up into his handsome face. “I’ve simply struggled with finding things to pass the time,” I shrug. “You’re been so busy lately with work, which I completely understand, but my days can tend to drag.”
“I understand, sweetheart,” he leans in for a chaste kiss. “The fourteen-hour days are the toughest, but trust me when I say the few hours I get to spend with you are worth a thousand hours I spend without you,” he adds, lingering at my lips before pulling back, the excited gleam returned in his gaze. “So? Good surprise?”
Laughing, I reach up to stroke his cheek, “Amazing surprise. But, Alex, simply surprising me with a night out on a date would have sufficed.”
“A night out, hmmm? Is that what you were hoping for? A date?”
“Well, not being able to go out on a regular date is sometimes a hard pill to swallow,” I confess, quickly continuing, not wanting him to assume I’m struggling with this life in the lime-light, “…but, I’m not complaining. I understand and accept everything that comes with your career.”
Contemplating my words, his eyes search mine. “Paint me a picture of a regular date.”
“Ummm, dinner and a movie would qualify as a decent date in my book.”
“Then, let’s do it.”
“Wait, do what?”
“Go on a date. Dinner and a movie,” he clarifies as though it’s the simplest of tasks and the most brilliant idea ever.
“Alex, you know we can’t just go out to dinner and a movie. It would cause pandemonium - the media. I can just hear it now, ‘Alex Tate and his live-in escort take in an afternoon flick before a mob of two thousand fans raid the theatre’.”
Laughing, he pulls me back into his embrace. “Well, even live-in escorts deserve a night out once and awhile,” his cheeky reply pulls my laugh. “Why don’t you leave the semantics to me. I’m taking my beautiful girl on a date.”
“THIS IS SO nice,” I murmur, leaning my head on Alex’s shoulder. Such simple pleasures - held in his arms, the darkness of the movie theatre, the indulgent smell of
buttery popcorn permeating the air - simplicities often taken for granted in his far from simple world.
So far, our date has been somewhat normal. No fan-frenzies. No paparazzi. It’s almost hard to believe. Sure it’s mid-day, and we’re in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, catching a matinee in this rickety old theatre, but I’m not complaining. A classic flick with this Adonis of a man by my side, the cinema almost to ourselves - it’s the perfect date. The solo guy oddly seated behind the couple at the front, however, is a little weird. Creepy comes to mind. But who am I to judge? To each their own. I’m with the man that I love, enjoying an afternoon indulgence. Doing the ordinary. Yet with Alexander Tate by my side, it’s far from ordinary. More like extraordinary.
“It is nice,” his gruff voice sends shivers down my spine as he places kisses across my bare shoulder, his thumb idly playing with the spaghetti strap of my tank top. “I’m glad you’re happy, Aby. I want nothing more than to make you happy every day,” he adds, his tone laced with the smile I imagine is donning is gorgeous face.
Make me happy? Is he kidding? Turning, I look up into his dazzling blue eyes, unshielded by his backward-turned ball cap. “Everything you are, everything you do, makes me happy. I love you, Alex,” I whisper, watching as his eyes darken with lust. I know what those three words do to him, yet I said them anyway. Here. Now.
I stare, transfixed, as a familiar desire washes through his features, his lips parting on quickened intakes of breath, mine heightening in equal measure as his sapphire eyes sparkle in the light of the opening credits. The movie has started, yet we don’t care.
“Aby,” my name falls off his luscious lips, kicking at my pulse with a brewing of butterflies in my tummy.
Despite our locale, he still has the ability to stir my blood, regardless of who may be watching. I’m unable to control my instant arousal as his fingers slide slowly and sinuously up my arm, leaving tingles and goose bumps in their wake.
“I love you too,” he whispers, taking me in a soft kiss.
God, those lips. The feel of them caressing mine, his tongue rimming the seam, begging entry, has me moaning into his mouth. I close my eyes in complete surrender, my body lax, as his strong hands circle my jaw, holding me firmly in place.
Whispering his lips delicately along my jaw, he nuzzles into the crook of my neck, placing succulent kisses on the sensitive skin under my lobe. When he kisses my neck that way, I’m a goner. Completely weak in the knees. Breathless. His.
His fingers slide along my collarbone, edging towards my aching breasts, leaving a shivering trail of lust in the motion. Cupping my breast in his hand, I whimper as his thumb and forefinger tweak my nipple through the thin layer of my cotton top.
The pleasure of his touch is sinful, eliciting an uncontrollable, libidinous moan that calls me back to reality, my eyes jerking open, my hand darting up to halt his delicious assault. “Alex,” I whisper breathlessly, “…we’re not alone.”
He’s unfazed by my interruption, maintaining his sweet kisses on my neck. “Shhh, it’s okay, sweetheart.”
Oh, god. How can I resist him?
Glancing quickly at the other patrons completely engrossed in the film, I close my eyes in acceptance, giving in to the thrill of his tongue wetting my flesh. The eroticism of our near public display is overwhelming, and incredibly arousing. Whimpering in need, I quake in my seat, pushing into it with tiny gyrations in hopes to assuage the throbbing ache in my core, my sex clenching in absolute want.
He glides his fingers inside the cup of my bra, and I stifle a moan as his thumb brushes across my distended nipple. "Touch yourself, Aby,” he whispers, cupping my breast in his palm. “Slide your hand in your skirt, inside your panties. Play with your clit for me.”
Holy shit. My gasp is equal parts shock and lustful excitement. I wage the war inside, yet his words evoke the animal within me - desperate to satisfy my body’s overwhelming demands for fulfillment, desperate unabashed desire to please him. I’m slave to his request, shivering with need, as he alternates between breasts, tweaking and pulling each nipple.
Sliding my hand inside my skirt, I push my panties to the side, my fingers teasing along my soaked core. It feels reckless. Naughty. A slight moan escapes my lips at the sheer pleasure of my own touch. Hot currents of desire course through me as Alex continues his feverish kisses, singeing along my overheated flesh.
"Are you wet, sweetheart?” he whispers.
"Y-yes..." I manage, trembling as I glide my fingers along my sensitive bud. Once. Twice. "Oh, God...Alex..." I moan on a hushed sigh.
"Yes, baby, play with your clit. Feels good, doesn't it?” his husky breaths float across my flesh amid succulent devouring nips of my neck.
I’m panting, the theatres patrons completely forgotten.
"Slide your finger inside, finger that pretty pussy for me,” his whisper at my ear is harsh with lust.
I gasp at his dirty words, yet simper in the need they evoke, my fingers sluicing along my wetness to slip inside my aching sex. It’s not enough. My body begs to be filled, pounded into oblivion. It’s his fingers I need. His cock. Curling my finger inside, I squirm in my seat to gain measure; my lame attempts to fuck myself harder. Deeper.
Sensing my desperation, Alex runs his hand along my thigh, slipping beneath my skirt. I feel the heat from his hand as it cups mine, pinpricks of desire coursing through me at his touch. His finger teases around mine buried deep in my core, rimming the outer edge, and I close my eyes on a moan as he slowly slides his in alongside mine, the motion pushing us deeper inside me.
“Does that feel good? Both of us inside you?”
“Mm-hmm…” I manage in my haze. It’s mind-blowing. Even more so as he takes over, guiding our movements. I follow his rhythm, mimicking his thrusts, my core pulsating and soaking our fingers further.
Lifting his head from my neck, I'm ensnared by the heated strength of his gaze as he takes my lips in a ravenous kiss. He swallows my muffled cries, pumping our fingers harder, faster, plunging further into my depths. The eroticism of our joined thrusts, curling along my sensitive nerves, takes my breath away. My orgasm rushes to the forefront as his thumb maneuvers along my clit, the pressure enough to send me plummeting, whimpering into his kiss.
Gasps from the onslaught of my orgasm rushing through me are captured between his sinful lips; he grabs my nape, holding me firmly to steal them. I fall quiet putty in his hands, before he releases my mouth to rein kisses along my cheek, holding me as my breathing slows.
Returning his lips to mine, a quick teasing lick of his tongue, he guides our fingers out of my soaked core, securing my hand tightly in his grip.
That had to be one of the most erotic moments of my life.
"God, Alex..." I mumble incoherently into his chest, breathing in his masculine scent. "You make me do crazy things," I admit, reality of our locale setting in once again - another holy shit moment passing through.
Chuckling, he kisses my forehead, releasing my hand to adjust my panties, settling my skirt back in place. “I could say the same, sweetheart,” he smiles. “I’m insatiable for you.”
Holy crow, are you ever. And apparently so am I. I can’t believe we just did that.
I’m more than uncomfortable knowing my essence coats our fingers in the middle of a movie theatre. "Ummm...I think I’ll visit the ladies room,” I move to stand, my gaze darting to his evident erection, straining in the restriction of his khakis. I don’t think he’ll be joining me to wash his hands. “Can I bring you some napkins?” I whisper, grimacing playfully.
He smiles, leaning back in his chair, getting comfortable, his unwavering gaze holding mine. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, I stare, transfixed as he sucks my juices away. "That’s not necessary,” he secures my wrist with a devilish grin. I tremble as he follows suit, sliding my finger between his warm lips.
Oh sweet lord. I'm speechless, staring at him; his eyes closed in satisfaction of my taste, before giving my finger a gentle kiss.<
br />
“Alex…” I manage in hushed awe.
“Hmmm? Yes, baby?” he smirks.
“I’ll be right back,” I turn to make my way along the aisle, legs wobbly in the aftermath of his overwhelmingly erotic display - not to mention the most naughty orgasm I’ve ever worked for.
It feels as though all eyes are on me as I make my way down the aisle, despite the few patrons' avid attention on the screen. Breathing a sigh of relief, I push the doors open, stepping into the light of the main lobby.
Whoa, I catch a glimpse of the mass of people waiting near the exit. Clearly we came to the least popular show time.
Making my way quickly into the ladies room, I wash my hands, my sex clenching in remembrance of what we just did. I stare awestruck at my reflection in the mirror, still absorbing our theatre escapade. Alex certainly knows how to keep things entertaining. Keep me on edge. Although, maybe I should ask him about his alter ego’s climb up the naughty scale. Not that I’m complaining, I bite my lip, my inner vixen staring back at me, her cherry very well popped. The entire notion sends an embarrassed flush to my cheeks and I exit the washroom shaking my head. My God, someone could have seen us.
“Abigail Ryan!”
I jar hearing my name, my gaze darting in the direction as overlapping voices follow suit.
“Are you here with Alexander Tate?”
“Are you enjoying a movie together?”
“Where is Mr. Tate?”
Unsure what to do, I frantically bolt into the theatre, practically tripping up the steps.
Alex stands immediately seeing my agitation, marching to the aisle, before forcing my gaze. "Aby, what's wrong?" he whispers in alarm.
"Alex, they’re here!"
"Who? Who's here?" he questions.
"The paparazzi.”
"Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yes, I’m fine. It just took me off guard.”
Though concern laces his gaze, he’s so calm it’s beyond me. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Would you like to leave?” he asks softly.
“But, how do we get out?” There’s no way I’m going through that lobby.
