The only concern now is that People magazine wants to make the Bared to You spread a full four pages, along with putting Skyler on the cover promoting it. That means they can’t release it right away; it will have to run in the next issue. Skyler will be on her own when it arrives, and that doesn’t sit right with me. So even though I’ll be working my next client, I’ve told Tracey to keep me posted on the date the publication drops so I can somehow be here for her in the event it doesn’t go well.
Tracey thought the images were well done, and she approved the interview Sky had with the journalist by phone. Sky stated the call went just fine and she wasn’t concerned. Still, you never know with reporters. They have often skewed the truth and written what they thought would sell, but I have hope. Regardless, I feel it’s prudent to be there for her in some capacity when it hits the stands. Help her deal with any backlash or media buzz that may take place.
I’m finally taking Skyler to Trattoria Dell’Arte, the Italian restaurant, tonight. We decided against a very public appearance the first two weeks, so Wendy moved our dinner to this week. We both agreed it would be our last hurrah before I head home to Boston tomorrow night.
I picked through my suits earlier and chose the best one. It’s a Tom Ford navy two-button that has a sheen to it. I think Bo said it was called sharkskin, but it’s not scaly, nor does it have any pattern. Tom Ford is far beyond my average budget. I enjoy nice clothing as much as the next guy, but not as much as Royce. He regularly wears this designer, and he rocks it completely. Me, I prefer to mix it up. Except Bo found this suit online when Neiman Marcus was having some storewide sale, and I scored it for half the cost. Still, $2,000 for a suit is a lot, though Bo reminded me that sometimes I have to wear something a bit more formal for events and schmoozing with the bigwigs. I relented and bought it.
The look on Skyler’s face as she enters the living room makes me glad I did.
“Honey, you look so freakin’ hot.” She bursts out in a wide smile.
I grin and shake my head. I hold out my hand to her so that I can take in the elegant sheath she’s wearing. It fits tight to the body with a cap sleeve. The fabric is a floral pattern on a navy or dark-gray background where the flowers on top weave down her body until they fade into a soft gray. The hem hits subtly two inches above the knee. Her hair is pulled back into a side bun with a hank of what I think women call side bangs, which cover her forehead and sweep loosely across to grace the edge of her face.
“You’re stunning.” I swallow and inhale deeply. The sight of her takes my breath away.
She spins around, and the back hugs her tight little ass to perfection. I suck in a breath through my teeth and rub at my bottom lip with my thumb, walking a circle around her beautiful body. “Peaches, you look good enough to eat.”
Skyler preens under the compliment, her cheeks turning a rosy pink. “I’m ready for my first official public appearance as Skyler Paige the actress going out and having dinner with a hunky guy in my new, sexy, affordable Betsey Johnson dress. You know how much this costs online?”
I shake my head. “Not a clue, baby.”
“A hundred and forty dollars. If I’d contacted Betsey Johnson and asked for her to make this same dress, I would have paid no less than a few thousand dollars. And I don’t like that. I want my fans to see my dress and think . . . man, I’m going to look that up online. And you know what?”
I grin and hold back my laughter. “What?”
“They’ll find it online and see that it’s something they can afford. Or at the very least maybe save up for. It’s not over a thousand dollars. It’s not the same price as a used car. It’s a sexy, simple dress that I feel really pretty in.”
“You look fuckin’ amazing. Pretty does not describe it.”
Once more, she lights up under the compliment.
“Ready to go?”
“Yes. Let’s do this.”
I walk her to the elevator, and we go down to the garage where a limo is waiting. The paps will assume she’s in it and react accordingly. We’ve discussed this evening and decided it’s a good time for her to go out in public as she is. Of course, I’ve got all the security in place, bodyguard up front with the driver and additional security set up at the restaurant.
When we arrive, we pull in through the back, the bodyguard shielding us as we enter without notice or problem.
Inside the restaurant does not prove as quiet. The second we walk in, Ciccio, the maître d’ and a friend of mine, greets us both. He’s wearing a beige suit, white dress shirt, and a black tie. His salt-and-pepper hair reminds me we’re not getting any younger. He pulls me into a hug, clapping my back loudly.
“Welcome, welcome,” he says with his Italian flair and a bright, even white smile. “Thrilled you could come to Trattoria Dell’Arte. We have the best table set for you.” His tone is full of pride and excitement. Unfortunately, as we follow him, he leads us to the center of the freakin’ restaurant. Definitely not the back, where we’d have a modicum of privacy, but the most openly visible table in the joint. I grind my teeth as one at a time, the patrons start to recognize my date. The murmurs start, her name popping up repeatedly. Her back straightens, and I can tell by the set of her jaw she’s uncomfortable.
With her at my side, I make a split-second decision. I clap my hands loudly. The entire restaurant goes quiet. Deathly silent.
“Attention, everyone. I understand you may recognize my lovely date.” I gesture to Sky. “If you promise to leave us alone while we eat our dinner, we will come around to your table and allow you to take a picture with her. All we ask is that you do not call your friends, and do not post your pictures on social media, until you have left. We would like to enjoy our dinner at this incredible establishment, the same way all of you are, without being bombarded by the paparazzi. Now raise your hand if you’d like Skyler Paige to come to your table.”
Pretty much the entire restaurant raises their hands. “All right. You okay with this?” I whisper into her ear.
She smiles wide. “Definitely. My fans mean the world to me. But you giving me an opportunity to have dinner without being bombarded? Priceless. I’m game.”
With a hand to her back, a guard flanking us, I walk to the first table. “One picture only, no signatures.” I repeat it loud enough for everyone to hear. Skyler stands behind the happy couple, and I hold the wife’s camera and take a shot of the smiling threesome.
We repeat this process at each table, which takes the better part of forty-five minutes. Shockingly, everyone in attendance is happy, considerate of her time, and doesn’t complain when she takes the picture, says thank you, and walks to the next table.
Task complete, I pull back her chair for her to sit. Fresh champagne is already in a bucket chilling beside the table, compliments of Ciccio, the dirty scoundrel, who knows all of those pics are going to be tagging his restaurant. Champagne was the least he could do.
The rest of the evening is filled with great food and even better conversation. For two hours, we eat until our bellies are about to explode and laugh until we’ve lost our breath.
I can feel the pictures of us being taken surreptitiously from different angles, but with a beauty like Skyler sitting in front of me, my eyes are on nothing but her.
“This is so fun. The food is incredible,” she murmurs, before sipping back her fourth glass of champagne.
I smile wide and lean back in my chair. “You give good date.” I smirk.
“This is true.” She points her spoon at me before digging into the chocolate mousse and whipped cream we’re sharing. I’m glad to see she’s finally eating a real meal. I’ll make sure she doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt for it either.
She moans around the spoon, that little sound sending a lightning bolt straight to my dick. I shift in my chair and glance around the room. “You ready to head out?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a surprise for you back at the penthouse.” Her tone is sultry and seductive.
I ra
ise my eyebrows in question. “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah . . . and you’re going to love it.” She winks.
Fuck.
Something in me knows she’s got something wicked hot planned for this evening’s bedroom activities. And I’m all in.
“Check, please!” I raise my hand as our waiter passes by.
“Oh, no need, signore. It has been taken care of by the restaurant.”
With that bit of info, I stand abruptly, my cock feeling locked in a cage underneath my suit, ready to break free. I quickly button my jacket to keep things decent, but Skyler’s quick perusal and returning sexy smirk say it all. She’s seen the effect she has on me and is pleased as punch with herself.
I grip her bicep and tug her close so I can whisper in her ear. “This surprise better be good.”
“Oh, it is.”
As we head for the door, the bodyguards take their places next to us, leading us toward the back exit.
Ciccio catches up with us. “Thank you for coming, Parker. And Madam Paige, thank you for being so gracious to our patrons. You must come see us again sometime.” He pulls her into a quick hug, kisses both sides of her face, and lets her go. I wrap an arm around her back, keeping her close.
“I’m sure we will. Thank you. The food was exceptional,” she says smoothly in her way, charming the pants right off my friend.
He claps my shoulder. “A keeper for sure, amico mio. Do not let her go far.”
“I don’t intend to.” I realize in that very second that I genuinely don’t. And doesn’t that just fuck me up in the head.
Not having the time or the wherewithal to deal with such a serious epiphany, I follow the guards to the exit.
Unfortunately the paps have gotten wind of our dinner and the Skyler Paige sighting, which is likely plastered all over social media by now. There are men with cameras crowding the limo and the back door as we exit.
An explosion of light and flashes goes off. Skyler smiles brightly, pretending she hasn’t a care in the world as I hold her close. The bodyguards do their job; the paps take their pics of us close to one another and getting into our car, and we’re off.
“Surprise still on?” I question, wondering if the sudden influx of the paparazzi shoving their cameras in her face may have turned her off.
“Absolutely.”
“You don’t get tired of it?” I ask, truly worried about her. This is the first time I’ve gotten to experience what it’s like to be famous, and although the patrons in the restaurant were great, I don’t imagine that’s always the case. Moreover, having camera flashes blinding you when you’re just trying to get in your car? That shit sets my teeth on edge. Knowing she deals with it every single day of her life all by herself . . . fucking angering.
She sighs and snuggles against my side in the back of the limo. “I do, but it goes with the business. Being famous has its highs and lows. Most of the time, like in the restaurant, if it’s managed well, I feel good about it. Other times, it can get scary.”
“Peaches, you need a full-time bodyguard. One who’s there for just you. Only yours.”
“You think?” She purses her lips.
“I know.” I squeeze her body closer.
“I usually just have whoever is on call with the security firm I contract with regularly. They always send someone good, like they did today.” She gestures to the guard up front sitting next to the driver. They can’t hear us talking about them because we have the privacy panel up.
“You know there are apartments below yours you could rent out. Have a guard move in there. Be ready when you are to go with you everywhere. Especially when I’m not there. It would make me feel more comfortable, and I think it would for you as well. Knowing you had someone all the time. Always there for you.”
“True.” She plucks at her lips, obviously thinking about it.
“Just think about it.”
“Okay, I will.”
“And . . . surprises?” I remind her.
She laughs, lifts up from her lounging position in the limo, and kisses me. She ends the kiss with her lips a scant inch away. “Good things come to those who wait.”
I steal another smooch. “Tease.”
“Damn straight.”
10
I wake to the feel of Sky’s warm hand around my hard cock.
She giggles as I sleepily thrust up into her palm. “Peaches, I like the way you wake up.”
Her naked body slides over mine, wedging my junk in between us, and I wake instantly, hoping she’ll either give me a handy, a blow job, or the third and best option, hop on and ride me until we both get off. Instead she rests her chin on my chest.
“I’m not looking forward to you leaving,” she admits freely.
I blink my eyes open and find her hair a tangled mess of waves like a halo around her pretty, makeup-free face. Her brown eyes swirl with an unnamed emotion. Pushing my hand through her hair to cup her nape, I rub at the tense muscles in her neck. “I thought we agreed we’d keep seeing one another. When the mood strikes.”
She grins. “What if the mood strikes tomorrow?”
I chuckle, tip my head forward, and kiss her soft lips. “Then call me. We’ll talk. Shoot the shit. And maybe more than that.” I waggle my brows in jest but also with the intention to plant the seed for some filthy phone sex in our near future.
Sky nods and sits up, which has the direct benefit of sliding her sex along the length of my hard cock. I groan and grip her hip.
“One last ride?” She smiles.
“Fuck yeah. Hop on, baby.”
She lifts her hips, centers my dick, and slides down ever so slowly. One tantalizing inch at a time. God, I love it when she teases me like that. Often I just slam home, but when Skyler is in charge, she likes to go slow. Torture me all the way until I’m a boneless heap of desire and a willing sex slave.
When she’s rooted, she turns her face to the ceiling. “Deep. So deep,” she gasps. “I swear your dick is a weapon.”
I could deny her claim, but every man wants to hear the woman they’re banging likes his cock. I’m no exception.
On this last round, though, I’m not capable of sitting back and letting her ride her way to the top of the mountain. No, I want to bring this to a finish that’ll be something to remember.
Sitting up, I brace my arms around her back and roll us over so I’m between her legs. “You think that’s deep, Peaches? I haven’t even begun to show you deep.”
Hooking both of her knees with my arms so she’s spread wide open, I tunnel in. When I’m rooted as deep as I can get, I stir my cock inside of her.
“Oh wow.” She mewls, her fingers digging into my biceps. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
I retract my hips and thrust in hard. Her body arches, legs going impossibly wide with each thrust.
“Jesus, you’re splitting me in half.” Her voice is coated in lust and awe. “It’s so good. Parker, don’t stop. Please, don’t ever stop!”
In this moment, nothing could take me away from the heat between her thighs or the look of adoration on her face.
As I give it my all, my heart pounds. I can feel the desperation crawling out of my soul. I need to imprint this moment in my memory.
“Peaches, I love fucking you.” I power into her, let go of her legs, and allow her to hook them around my sides, bringing my chest flat against hers. “Need to be closer,” I whisper against her hairline, my gasps met with her moans.
With nothing more than my cock working her cunt and my tongue working her mouth, Skyler comes, her orgasm ripping through her so fiercely her entire body locks around me. I ride the tide, never giving up, making it the best I can for her.
“God! Fuck!” she cries out, sweat misting on her forehead.
Still, I sink everything I have into fucking her good and hard. Her chin juts forward, and she centers one foot and flips us until she’s back on top.
“Your turn!” She puts her hands in her hair, moans, and ride
s me until my balls draw up, and the muscles of my chest and abdomen ripple with electric pleasure. “That’s it!” she goads, bouncing on my cock like a prized bull rider.
Her breath comes in labored pants. I wrap my hand around one of her tits and pinch her erect nipple hard. She cries out, still riding, trying to best me in the sex game we love playing.
It’s too much. I clench my teeth, grab both of her hips, and power up into her downstroke, jackhammering her body down on my cock. The tension builds until it’s exploding within. My heart racing, breath hard to catch, fingers turning white with the effort of forcing her on and off my cock.
“Come, honey. Give it up to me,” she urges, her tits dotted with drops of sweat, her mouth reddened from my kisses. Her eyes are wild, dark brown, glazed with lust and desire.
“Fuck, Sky. Baby . . . ,” I warn as she bottoms out on my cock and screams into the open room.
“Yes!” The walls of her sex lock down around my length once again. This time, I can’t hold back and come with her, releasing inside, over and over until I can’t feel anything but pure fucking bliss.
Sky flops onto my chest, her breath coming in heavy puffs of air, her body a dead weight I welcome. I wrap an arm over her lower back, keeping her there, wanting us to stay connected. At least for now.
Minutes fly by as we regain our bearings.
“Wow,” Sky mumbles against my chest, before kissing my pec.
I chuckle. “Sex with you has always been freaking awesome.” Best I’ve ever had, if I’m being honest, but I keep that to myself.
This time she laughs, adjusts her body, and I slip out of her. “Going to go clean up,” she says.
“Okay.”
She kisses my other pec, slides out of the bed, and walks to the bathroom buckass naked. Her tight little ass sways along with her, proving she’s feeling mighty good right now.
“I’m going to take a shower. Round two?” she calls out.
International Guy: Paris, New York, Copenhagen (International Guy Volumes Book 1) Page 23
