by May, Linnea
“You must be hungry,” he assumes.
I really am. We didn’t have any breakfast by choice, but by now my stomach was growling with hunger.
“A little,” I whisper, trying to sound like a lady.
“You know I hate it when you’re lying,” he warns me.
“Okay,” I say. “I am starving!”
“That’s a good girl,” he praises, planting a loving kiss on my forehead. A girlish smirk appears on my face as he does it.
“I would like to take you out for lunch,” he declares. “But given the situation, that would not be a smart move.”
“Are you being followed at all times?” I ask.
It is meant to be a joke, because, of course, he isn’t. He is just being super cautious, for my sake just as well as his own.
“More than usual at the moment, yes,” he says. “After that reading last week and another few press appointments, people have been pestering me not only about my new novel but also about me mentioning my move here.”
“You mentioned you grew up in this area?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says, sounding angry. “And that is exactly the kind of question I don’t want to hear right now.”
“Sorry,” I murmur.
He is really is particular when it comes to certain things. Anything that has to do with him. Anything personal, it seems.
“Would you mind having lunch with me? Here?” he asks. “I could order something for us. Anything you want.”
I look up at him. “Are you sure?”
He smiles down at me.
I hadn’t noticed before, but he is sporting the cutest bedhead right now. His edgy, dark hair is ruffled and fleeing from his head in all sorts of directions. He looks so different from the person he was on stage, or even the man who greeted me in the sunroom last night.
Both versions are endearing to me.
Even after this short time I can hardly remember the person I was just a little more than a week ago. The person who was dragged to a boring reading event by her best friend. The person who didn’t care for this obscure Cedric Crow character that so many readers adore.
The person who still hasn’t finished a single book by him. I feel almost ashamed about it now.
I am determined to change that. As soon as I get back home.
Whenever that will be.
“Of course, I am sure,” he interrupts my stream of thought. “Why would I ask you if I wasn’t.”
“To be nice,” I blurt out.
He raises his eyebrows. “Why would I be nice to you?”
“Um, I don’t know-”
“To get you into bed?” he interrupts. “In case you haven’t noticed, that already happened. So, please, just let me know what you are in the mood for.”
I look at him quizzically.
“Food,” he clarifies. “What would you like to eat?”
Pizza, my head yells. Oh, I am craving a giant, greasy pizza with cheese filled crust. The perfect after-sex food.
But not a very elegant lunch choice when you’re with a classy billionaire writer in his fancy getaway penthouse.
“Um, maybe I should just go home,” I murmur.
Pizza and sweatpants do sound quite enticing at the moment. And I could catch up on that Playstation date…
“Why?” He wants to know. “Didn’t you just say that you’re starving?”
I smirk up at him. “Yeah, but I can eat by myself. I have done it before, you know.”
His eyes narrow as he looks back at me.
“You see, I am only going to be in town until tomorrow,” he says. “I don’t know when I will be back. But I would really like to spend as much time with you as possible while I am still here.”
My eyes widen with disbelief.
“Why?” I gasp, sounding just as dumb as you would think of someone who is replying to sweet words with such a silly question.
He looks at me with a smug smile and traces along the skin above my boobs with the tip of his index finger.
“You should get used to the idea that I like you,” he whispers. “I like spending time with you.”
I let out a girly chuckle. “Charmer.”
“So, what are you in the mood for?” he repeats his query. “Food wise.”
“You’re not even giving me the option to go home?” I retort.
“No. I can’t let you have that choice right now,” he breathes, shaking his head. “I am not done with you yet.”
I sigh. As intimidating and possessive as his remark is, I cannot help but feel seduced by it. To be wanted like this is deliciously agitating.
It gives me the confidence to be honest about my cravings.
“Pizza?” I whisper. “I could really go for pizza…”
“That sounds great,” he whispers.
He grabs me by the side and leans over. His lips find mine with surprising intuition. He is claiming me with force, his grip tightening around me while he positions himself on top of me. Both of us are still naked, lying skin on skin while our bodies crave each other.
His hand wanders down to my hip and gently pushes it up against his. I can feel him harden between my legs and instinctively spread them for him.
He moans and lifts both my arms up above my head.
“I should tie you up like this and fuck you silly,” he breathes.
“Why don’t you?” I reply, breathing heavily with excitement.
He squints at me. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” I hiss.
I convolve beneath him, eagerly rubbing my pelvis against his hardening member.
“Good,” he whispers. He plants an innocent kiss on my forehead. “I like you wet and hungry for me.”
And with that, he lets me go and rolls over, climbing out of bed so quickly that I don’t even get a chance to hold him back.
The sight of his hard cock on that buff, tempting body of his doesn’t exactly help matters.
He fetches his pants and quickly jumps into them, while I remain on the bed, naked and in heat. My cheeks blush with arousal, and I am still breathing heavily.
“Let’s order that pizza,” he suggests, offering me his hand to get out of bed.
I frown at him. “God, you’re mean.”
He grins. “I know.”
I reject his offer and climb out of bed by myself.
“Where are my clothes?” I ask, realizing that I haven’t worn any all day. I was pretty much naked when I woke up, and I never put on anything but the robe after my shower.
“You don’t need clothes,” he replies. “The robe should be enough for now.”
I cast him a skeptical look. “Please. I would really like to wear… something.”
He shrugs. “No.”
I gasp with indignation, which causes the smug smile on his face to grow even wider.
“Come,” he says, taking my hand to lead me out of the room. “I am starving, too. That pizza sounds perfect right now.”
Chapter Sixteen
According to Cedric, there is a certain etiquette that does not allow for pizza to be eaten with fork and knife but only by hand while sitting on a couch with one’s legs curled up.
“Ideally, we would add a few cans of beer,” he defines. “But I don’t want you getting sleepy too soon. Beer does that.”
He sits next to me, holding up a large slice of cheesy crust pizza up to his face. Despite his detailed definition of the correct way to do this, his legs are not curled up as mine are but placed on the coffee table in front of the sofa.
I am wearing nothing but a robe, just as he wished. It still bothers me that he won’t tell me where my clothes are. Then again, the blouse and skirt from last night wouldn’t be the most comfortable option for lounging around anyways. And my pantyhose are ripped. That is going to be one long walk of shame home.
Whenever that will be. I am beginning to think that I might spend another night here. I would feel a lot more relaxed about that if I had been prepare
d for it. When I left my apartment on Friday night, I didn’t bring anything with me but my tiny purse with my wallet, some powder make-up and my phone.
All of which I haven’t seen since he made me undress in the sunroom on the rooftop last night.
“I would really like to know where my stuff is,” I murmur in between bites.
He casts me a bold smile.
“Don’t worry. I’m not a thief,” he promises. “Is there anything in particular that you need?”
“Well, um. My phone?” I reply. “Or just… I don’t know. I am not exactly prepared to stay over for an entire weekend.”
I hesitate. We are just having lunch. He never actually said anything about me staying over until tomorrow.
“I mean, not that I-”
“It’s okay,” he interrupts. “I would love for you to stay another night, Renee. I want to know if there’s anything I can get you, so you would feel better about doing so.”
I quietly dig into my pizza slice instead of giving him an answer. But he is watching me, observing, waiting.
“It’s okay,” I mumble eventually. “I’ll be okay.”
He rolls his eyes.
“This is an order, little girl,” he says. “Tell me what you need so I can get it for you. Or I’ll tie you up to the bed posts for the rest of the weekend. Naked. With no food and no opportunity to leave.”
I frown at him. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“Oh, I damn sure would,” he objects.
“Clothes,” I say. “I’d like to have something to wear. And a toothbrush. And a hairbrush.”
He takes another bite from his pizza and smiles contentedly.
“Oh, and my powder makeup,” I add. “Or in short: My purse with all of its contents.”
“Good girl,” he says after, grinning at me. “I’ll see what I can do.”
We don’t finish the pizza, mostly because I am incapable of eating as much as I normally would without the intimidating gaze of Cedric Crow on me.
He excuses himself for a few minutes after we are done eating.
I remain by myself, sitting on the sofa, wearing nothing but the softest bathrobe that my body has ever been wrapped in. The food has made me sleepy, and I can hardly keep my eyes open as I scan the view that stretches in front of me. Judging by the light outside, I would assume that it is early afternoon by now. The city is buzzing with life below me as people are out and about, shopping or pursuing whatever leisure activities they prefer to spend their weekends with.
What will I tell people when they ask me how my weekend has been?
Oh, nothing special. Spent the entire weekend at Cedric Crow’s luxury penthouse, getting fucked and pleased in ways that I have never experienced before and having pizza with him on his designer couch.
I smile dreamily at the thought of actually telling people exactly that. It is the truth, but no one would believe it. Especially not since it is coming from me.
Why am I so tired again? It must be the food. Or the soft fabric of the robe that my body is encompassed in.
I have no idea where Cedric went off to. After all, who knows how many rooms this place has. Maybe he wanted to get some more writing done. I know he wouldn’t tell me if that was the case. He would just go and do it, confident that I won’t dare to sneak up on him again.
I lay back on the couch and close my eyes. Just for a minute. It’s just so cozy. I feel so at home, so relaxed.
A faint sigh escapes my lips as I doze off.
I am still alone when I wake up. Or so I think at first.
I am warm, too warm, actually. Instead of waking me up, he has put a blanket over me. I am stretched out on the couch, still disoriented, squinting sleepily. For the first moments, I completely forget where I am.
Until I turn around and see him sitting in an armchair on the other side of the coffee table, holding a tablet in his lap. He is dressed up, wearing dark suit pants and a white shirt. His hair is fixed, too. Neatly combed to the side as it was during his show, exposing the well-defined undercut at the side of his head. Freakishly handsome.
Especially compared to me. I pull the blanket all the way up to my nose in an attempt to hide the ruffled mess that I am sure I must represent right now. How embarrassing.
“Did you have a good nap?” he asks without looking up from his tablet.
I startle. “Err… sorry, I-”
“Don’t be sorry,” he interrupts me. “I had things to do. You had every right to rest, little girl. It’s your weekend, after all.”
I still don’t know how to feel about the fact that he keeps calling me ‘little girl.’ It is degrading in a way. But his voice sounds so full and loving every time he does it.
He places his tablet on the coffee table between us and looks up at me.
I pull up the blanket a little more so that all he can see are my sleepy eyes - and my messed up hair.
I wish I could ask him not to look at me right now, not while he is looking like the epitome of attractiveness while I most certainly look like something the cat dragged in.
But I know that would only aggregate him. And he would look even closer.
“Do you feel rested?” he wants to know.
I nod. “Yes, Sir.”
A content smile graces his face.
“Good girl,” he says. “Freshen up, if you like. I’ve had a few things brought for you. They are in the bathroom.”
I reluctantly straighten up, letting my long hair fall down in my face, hoping that it would hide most of my unpleasant ‘just-woke-up’-features.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “You’re too nice to me.”
He shakes his head. “Trust me. I’ll be anything but nice to you once you get back to me.”
I peel myself out of the blanket and get up from the couch. When I try to scurry past him as quickly as possible, he gets up as well and blocks my way with his impressive stature.
I sigh and lower my head, but he doesn’t let me hide and puts his finger below my chin to gently push my face up to his.
“You have no reason to be ashamed about anything, Renee,” he whispers. “I enjoyed watching you sleep. I take it as a compliment that you were able to do so.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, looking up at him quizzically.
“It means you are just as comfortable with me as I am with you,” he discloses.
“Who says that I am comfortable right now?” I tease.
He laughs and plants a kiss on my forehead. “There’s something else I meant to ask you.”
“Yes?”
“Is there any need for us to use condoms?” he wants to know. “I would love to feel more of you, but I don’t want to put you into any danger.”
“If by danger you mean an unwanted pregnancy, no, we don’t have to worry about that,” I reply and point towards my upper left arm. “I have a contraceptive implant.”
For a moment, I fear that I might have to explain to him what an implant is, but he just nods and appears to understand.
A naughty smile graces his face. “Good. Go, freshen up then. I’ll wait here for you.”
I hurry on to the bathroom. What I find in there exceeds my expectations by far. He must have bought the stock of half a drugstore. All I asked for was a toothbrush and a hairbrush, but he was able to produce far more than that.
In fact, it is more than I have ever owned in regard to beauty products in my entire life. Shampoo, conditioner, body lotions, hairstyling products and makeup, next to a little pile of clothes.
I examine each item, wondering if he wants me to use of all them or if he was just being overly thorough. Most of the products are pretty expensive brands that I wouldn’t buy for myself, but I also spot a fresh and unopened case of the exact same powder makeup that I carry in my purse.
The fact that my personal belongings are still missing does start to creep me out a little, despite having all these exquisite amenities in front of me.
He overdid it with the clothes, too.
There is a variety for me to pick from, depending on what kind of getup I want to present myself in. Simple jeans and a white shirt, but also a skirt and matching blouse as well as a light summer dress. However, no underwear. I shake my head, a knowing smirk on my face.
That kinky bastard.
All of it is in a size that should fit me. He must have checked the labels on the clothes I was wearing when I got here last night. And he must have gone through my purse to find the powder makeup.
I frown. We will have to have a little talk.
After I have taken advantage of his generosity, that is.
I take a long shower, indulging in the lush products he bought for me and preparing my body for the next play session that will undoubtedly follow once I go back to him.
Even though I made a promise to myself to not make him wait too long, I cannot resist applying the extravagant body lotion. It smells divine and after applying it on my entire body, so do I.
I am not very skilled or experienced when it comes to makeup, but I am intrigued to try out the costly mascara and eyeliner he bought for me.
I am sure he won’t complain if I doll myself up a little. He would not have arranged for all this if he didn’t like it.
I feel like a completely different person once I am done and ready to face him. I chose to wear the summer dress because it looks surprisingly good on me. I don’t wear dresses like this often because they are usually cut too short for my tall frame and look kind of odd.
But this one fits perfectly and swirls around my hip as if it was custom-tailored. I wonder if it is a present? Would he let me take it home with me? The fabric is so exquisite, too. Thin and soft, but obviously of very good quality.
I check myself in the big mirror one last time and nod towards my reflection when I decide that this is good enough. Though, good enough might be an understatement. I have never felt better about myself.
Another thing he didn’t think of were shoes. But that is more than fine with me, as I don’t like shoes anyways. Also, barefoot in a summer dress does have its own charm.
I walk back towards the living room, where he is waiting for me, eerily aware of my nakedness beneath the silky dress that flatters my narrows hips. It stimulates my appetite for him with every step.
I am sure that is exactly what he had in mind.
