Candles had been set up and lit all around the room, giving it a warm, intimate glow. So that’s why he’d kept her waiting outside. In one corner on a table was another bouquet of tulips, not quite as outrageous as the one back in New York. Next to it was a bucket holding champagne and a several balloons all reading CONGRATULATIONS!!
Brooklyn laughed as she saw everything, her heart overflowing with so many emotions she couldn’t have even counted them. Excitement. Gratitude. Relief. Love. Lust.
She turned around and threw her arms around Alex, kissing him even harder than before, the last emotion taking front and center stage. She pulled her head back just as quickly.
“What if the show was a flop?” she asked.
“Babe,” he scolded, “Do you honestly think I would have put myself out there like this if I didn’t think it would be successful?”
He leaned down closer to her, “How many times do I have to point out how talented you are?”
“Just you watch and see Mr. Wright,” she said.
Alex winced. “Ugh, no. Mr. Wright is my father.”
She laughed. “Okay then, Alex, let’s take this to the bed.”
“As you wish.” With that he grabbed her and swung her body up so she was cradled in his arms. He took two long strides and threw her on the bed to the sound of her squeals of surprise and delight.
He reached down to grab one foot and begin the process of trying to untie the intricate series of ties to her shoe.
“How in the world does this work?” he said in puzzled frustration. “You know what? On second thought, keep them on; it’s kinda sexy.”
Brooklyn just gave him a sly smile as she stuck the pointed heel of the gladiator shoe into his chest. Then she pulled herself up and crawled over to him as he stood before her.
“You know,” she said, pulling the chopsticks out of her hair, “I was thinking I should learn French, since I seem to spend so much time here in Paris.”
“Je suis d'accord,” Alex said.
She looked up at him questioningly as she pulled her bobby pins out of her hair, shaking it loose.
He reached out to run his hand through the thick mass and pull her head closer to him.
“I agree,” he said, leaning down.
She smiled and licked her lips. “So, how does one say ‘suck my dick?’” she asked, reaching out for the fly of his slacks.
“Suce ma bite,” he smiled, pulling his hand out of her hair to shrug out of his jacket and begin unbuttoning his shirt.
She raised an eyebrow to him, waiting.
When he peeled his shirt off, he grabbed her hair again and leaned down into her face. “Suce ma bite,” he said.
Brooklyn could feel the strain of his hardening cock as he said it. Still, she pushed him.
“That didn’t sound like you meant it,” she taunted, freeing the large length of his “bite” out of his shorts.
Alex grabbed her hair more firmly, “Suce ma bite,” he ordered, now anxiously awaiting her mouth surrounding his dick.
Brooklyn smiled appreciatively and bent down over the darkening head. She caressed it in her hands, admiring the girth and the length of it. Her mouth covered the large end, licking the entire surface, tasting the saltiness of his sweat from the night’s festivities already mixed with pre-cum. She lowered her head to take more of him inside of her, following her hands down the shaft. She went as far as she could, wanting to take every inch of him, until his dick tickled her tonsils.
“That’s right baby,” Alex sighed, running his hands through her thick hair, “Suce that bite.”
Brooklyn smiled around the head as she rose back up, only to sink back down again. Her tongue slid its way along the lower ridge tasting and pleasuring him. Her hands tightened their grip as she followed them up and down and up and down again.
She brought one hand underneath to fondle his balls, massaging and squeezing them as her mouth and other hand went to work on his penis. She was enjoying the sounds of his groans as she worked herself into a steady rhythm now.
“Oh Baby, baby,” Alex sighed, “I’m gonna cum, Brooklyn,” he warned.
She just gurgled her agreement as she slid down, bracing herself. Moments later, he erupted inside of her and she swallowed greedily, accepting the gift of his pleasure.
Once he was done, she pulled herself up on her knees on the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “That’s for being the world’s most awesome boyfriend.”
He raised his eyebrows with a smile. “I’ll drink to that,” he said.
“Speaking of which,” he grabbed her firmly by the ass and carried her over to the champagne. “I know you’re probably all champagned out for the night, but we can’t end the evening without one final toast.”
“Alex,” Brooklyn admonished, “there is never such a thing as too much champagne.”
He laughed, plopping down on the chair next to the table of flowers and bringing Brooklyn down onto his lap. “If you’d had the week I did then you’d be thinking about becoming a teetotaler.”
She put her arms around him. “Well, I can drink for the both of us then.”
She reached out to grab the champagne by the neck and began unwrapping the foil around the top. She worked the cork loose and they both laughed with delight when it sprang free with a loud POP!
“One for me,” she said pouring some into one glass, “and one for you.
“You have to have at least one to toast with,” she continued giving him an admonishing look.
He gave an exaggerated sigh as he took the glass, then smiled. “What are we toasting to?”
“To the best boyfriend in the world.”
“You mean, the best girlfriend in the world.”
“Hmm,” she said, leaning her head to the side. “To the best couple in the world?”
“I’ll drink to that.” He lifted his glass to hers and Brooklyn clinked hers against his.
The each took a sip and then kissed.
Alex rested his on the table and brought his arms around to hold her closer. She continued to drink as she stared at the wall, contemplating things silently.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he finally asked.
“You’ll get mad,” she said after a long pause.
“Hey,” he said leaning his head so that she was forced to look at him. “Ride or die right? You let me decide whether or not I’ll get mad.”
She looked at him for a moment, then sighed in exasperation. “Brianna Nolton.”
“Ugh,” he said, reaching out for the champagne.
“It’s just that she’s so damn awful!” Brooklyn said scowling. “I mean how could you have been friends with her? She’s bitchy and spiteful and silly and—”
Alex finished his sip before interrupting her. “Brooklyn!” he said over her voice.
She stopped mid-rant and blinked at him.
“Let’s just say, Brianna Nolton may have been a bit surprised to find herself faced with a service of process some time last week. I’d say what little money she has left is probably going toward attorney’s fees.”
“What little money she has? The girl is—”
“Broke,” he finished.
“No?” Brooklyn asked with astonishment
“And about to be more-so.”
“You actually sued her?”
“Yep. Let’s just say I know a very good attorney who was willing to give me the family discount.”
Brooklyn gave him a sly grin and leaned in closer. “Please tell me it was for a large amount.”
“Huge,” he said grinning back.
“All this talk of getting back at the bitch is making me horny,” she purred.
“No more shopping sprees, and VIP treatment at clubs,” he growled.
“Ohh, baby,” Brooklyn said, putting her glass on the table. “Give it to me harder.”
“She’ll be the laughing stock of all her two hundred thousand Instagram followers,” he said, lifting her up and carr
ying her back over to the bed.
“More, more, more!”
“She may actually have to”—he gave an audible gasp as he threw her down on the bed—”get a job!”
“Ohhh,” Brooklyn moaned, throwing her head back in exaggerated ecstasy. Then she brought her head up. “Maybe you could tell her about the position that just opened up at Joe on the Go.”
They both laughed as he slid down on top of her.
Brooklyn ran her hand through his hair as she smiled up at him. “You really know how to turn a girl on.”
He grinned down at her. “I’m also quite good at getting a girl off.”
With that he slid back down on the bed, reaching up to grab Brooklyn’s panties down with him.
She laughed as he pulled her to the edge of the bed and dived in head first. Then laughter turned to moans of pleasure as he began the process of getting her off.
Ah Paree.
Chapter 38
Michael was standing in the foyer, his mother Kate across from him, and one increasingly perplexed maid in between them. All three of them were staring at the console table near the front door. Finally Michael spoke up.
“Perhaps it would help if you gave her a hint, Mom,” he said.
Kate cast an irritated glance his way, before turning her attention back to the unfortunate Karolina.
“I not see problem, Ms. Wright,” Karolina finally confessed, her face wrinkled with worry.
“Frankly, neither do I,” added Michael, wanting to end this nonsense and get down to the reason for his being here.
“It should be quite obvious,” Kate finally sighed. “Karolina, which way are the windows?”
Karolina pointed to her left, “That way Ms. Wright.”
“Correct,” Kate said patiently. “And which way are my orchids pointing?”
Michael and Karolina both frowned down at the pot holding a stem of pink orchids pointing to the door.
“That’s what this is about?” Michael finally exclaimed.
Kate shot him another irritated look. “Details, Michael, details.”
Karolina quickly reached out and spun the pot around so the orchids faced the window. She looked up at his mother with large worried eyes, wondering what was coming next.
“There,” Kate said with a reassuring smile. “See, now everything is perfect. Thank you, Karolina.”
The maid took that as her cue to quickly escape and scurried off down the hall.
“I can’t believe I had to sit through five minutes of that.”
“Perhaps if you had made an appointment, or,” she cast a scornful glance his way as she headed toward her living room, “saw me on a more frequent basis, then it wouldn’t be an issue. Frankly, I see no reason to interrupt my schedule for your impulsive needs.”
“I did call to say I was coming,” he pointed out.
“And here I am, my attention is all yours,” she said, settling down on her pristine couch in her pristine living room with pristine posture.
From her perfectly coiffed brunette hair, to her perfectly brand new Chanel heels, Kate Wright, the first of the Wright matriarchs, sat there in an erect stance as proud as her very blue blooded heritage. Michael had inherited his dark blue eyes and very old money from her side of the family. She was still quite a striking woman and, even beyond the obvious ties to the New York social elite, he could see what his father had originally found attractive in the woman, who was now nearing 60.
“I’ve come because I want to introduce you to someone and—”
She raised one perfectly manicured hand. “If this is about that woman in the papers—”
Michael felt himself getting angry. “If by, that woman, you mean London Jefferson, then yes.”
Kate raised her eyebrows at the controlled temper in his voice. Then she sighed and turned to look out the window. “Do you have any idea how hard I worked to set you up with the crème de la crème of New York? When I think of the connections you could have made….”
“Mom,” he said sitting in one of the chairs across from her. “I don’t want to marry for ‘connections.’ I actually happen to love this woman.”
“What exactly was wrong with Victoria Conrad? She’s beautiful, young, smart. Annabelle and I are practically best friends. She told me you simply left them standing there to go traipsing off with this London—”
Michael was thrown by the change of topics, then he thought back to the night he had met London. It was the same night that the female Conrad trio had cornered him, hoping he’d home in on the youngest, Victoria.
“Is that your problem? That I thwarted your little matchmaking scheme at the Botanical Gardens?”
Kate sniffed. “I’m just looking out for you Michael. Don’t you want to settle down with someone who’s…like you?”
Michael laughed. “Actually, that sounds like pure hell.”
Kate gave him the annoyed look she reserved for his usual smart-assed comments. “Relationships are difficult Michael. Nothing to make jokes about, or go into willy nilly.”
“All the more reason to marry someone I actually love and want to be with.”
Kate’s eyes flew open. “You’re considering marrying this girl?”
“Woman,” he corrected. “And yes, I am. Which is why I’ve come here today.”
“But...a Jefferson.” She practically whispered the name as though she didn’t want anyone to hear it.
“And?” Michael said, raising a warning eyebrow.
“Don’t you dare accuse me of racism, Michael,” Kate said. “It’s not that, it’s just, well she comes from a different world.”
“All the more reason to marry her.”
“Contrary to popular belief, opposites do not attract, Michael. Like should marry like.”
“That sounds vaguely incestuous,” Michael said, pushing her buttons.
“Well, perhaps your father and I should serve as an example. Daddy warned me. His money was too new. He had no standing in New York, no real ties. But I fell for that hair and chin, and charm,” she looked out of the window almost fondly.
Michael shifted uncomfortably. He had a better understanding now of why she’d kept her married name, beyond just having the same surname as her son.
Kate brought her attention back to him. “And look where it got me. The laughing stock of New York.”
“I fail to see what dad being unable to keep it in his pants—”
“Don’t be crude, Michael.”
“—has to do with me.”
She sat there staring at him for a long time. “Well, I suppose you’ve made up your mind about this?”
“Well, I haven’t asked yet, but I plan to. Perhaps you should actually meet the woman before passing judgement. You of all people should know not to trust what you read in the papers.”
The slight flare of her nostrils let Michael know he had hit home.
“Which brings me around to why I stopped by today. We both,” he stressed the word, ”wanted to invite you to lunch tomorrow. I just came to make sure you are on your best behavior,” he warned.
“When have I ever been anything but the epitome of decorum, Michael?”
“Passive aggression and underhanded compliments don’t count as decorum. I know you too well, Mom.”
She gave him an indignant frown, before sighing and closing her eyes. “Well, I suppose if you have your mind made up. I’ll—I’ll be polite.”
She gave him a quick warning look. “But you can’t force me to like the woman, Michael. She’ll have to prove herself to me.”
“I have no doubt she’ll be up to the challenge, mom.”
Kate Wright didn’t seem so sure.
* * *
The lunch started off almost too perfectly.
London was wearing her Sunday best, a light blue dress suit, with her hair held back in her usual chignon.
Kate Wright showed up in her standard matronly socialite uniform…which also happened to be a light blue dress suit, her hair do
ne up in its usual coifed bun at the nape of her neck.
They each even wore similar pearl earrings.
The only difference was that Kate’s ensemble probably cost about ten times as much as London’s. As he saw the delighted smile come to her face at the coincidence of their choice in clothes, he resolved to never tell her that fact.
“Well, isn’t this a coincidence,” Kate said with strained politeness.
“Yes, I suppose so,” London said nervously.
They were led to their table and the three of them sat there in awkward silence, making eyes at each other, wondering who would be first to speak up.
Michael had been sure Kate would be the one to run this little meeting but she was making London, who was sitting in bewildered silence, do all the heavy lifting here.
“May I start you off with something to drink,” the waiter said.
“I’ll have a whiskey,” Michael said, hoping it would take the edge off for him at least. “Make it a double.”
Both women spoke up at once.
“Michael,” London scolded, giving him a disappointed look.
“It’s 11 o’clock, Michael!” Kate exclaimed, looking at him in shock.
He looked back and forth between the two of them, as they looked at one another and smiles crept to their faces.
“Well, at least you know you have your work cut out for you,” Kate said to London, giving Michael an admonishing lift of the eyebrow.
“Honestly, I don’t know how you did it. He takes nothing seriously at all,” London said, giving him a teasingly scornful look.
He grinned back at her and out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother glance at London with new appreciation.
So far, so good.
* * *
“Well, she’s certainly…something,” London said as they walked in the front door of their home. “Did I pass? I honestly can’t tell.”
“That’s patrician stoicism for you.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better, or answer my question,” she said leading him upstairs.
“Blue bloods take longer to warm up, but yes, all things considered, I’d say you passed.”
She stopped on the stairway, “All things considered?”
Mr. & Mrs. Wright: A BWWM Romance (Wright Brothers Series Book 2) Page 19
