His rendition of what really happened that night was so much better than my twisted imagination. I ran my fingers through his thick wavy hair. Louis leaned into my hand and ran his lips along my inner arm.
He continued his explanation, "The next morning I called Mike and booked Crown Affairs for four more events that I didn't even have planned … I had to see you again. I couldn't stop thinking about you," he said, kissing his way up my arm. "You were wearing that tight white tank top. I could see the outline of your nipples. When you'd get close enough to me I could tell how hard they were under that thin top. Your tight little ass in that short mini skirt with those heels. I wanted to bite it and have those beautiful legs wrapped around my neck." He made a rough sound in the back of his throat. "You've been on a loop in my mind ever since. I think I jerked off at least three times that night imagining sucking your perfect tits."
I blushed at his crude description of my body. But I loved every word. I leaned into his ear and whispered, "Before I fell asleep that night after the party, I imagined you in my bed and that made me have my first orgasm … EVER." I left out the crying part.
He looked at me with an, Are you shitting me? face and I nodded to his silent question.
"Okay, little girl, I think we've been in public long enough. It's time for me to show you where you'll be spending the majority of your time from now on."
Standing up, he took my hand in his and led us back to his little red sports car.
Chapter 7
Home sweet ... Lord of the Flies...
Louis drove very fast. I was holding on for dear life. He was a man on a mission. I asked him, "Where are you taking me now?"
To which he replied without taking his eyes off the road, "Bed."
My heart stopped. Oh my God, was I ready for bed? No, definitely not ready for his bed.
"Are you taking me to see your apartment?" I was trying to ask questions to calm my nerves down and not think about what bed really meant. He finally looked at me while stopping at a red light. He reached for my hand and kissed my fingertips.
"No Emily, definitely not my apartment. I'm taking you to my place … to my home."
I was too nervous to understand what he was talking about—his apartment, his home; it all sounded the same to me. It all added up to us ending up naked in his bed. Fuck, what now? I couldn't keep teasing him like this. If he took me to his bed could I stop him or me from going all the way? I didn't even take notice which direction we were driving. I tried to make myself aware of my surroundings. If this gorgeous man was kidnapping me, I wouldn't even know where the hell he was taking me. I looked up and noticed that we'd just passed Houston Street and then he quickly pulled up to an old building that looked like an abandoned warehouse. I was too anxious and petrified about going home with him that I hadn't even taken the opportunity to let my mind try and picture where a guy like Louis Bruel would live and call home. I looked over to find my handsome kidnapper smiling from ear to ear.
"Are you ready to see my lair? Ha, ha, ha," he said in his best impression of Dracula.
I must say my heart skipped a beat but this time from sheer fear. He pressed a button in his car and a huge metal gate that looked like a loading dock entrance started to pull up. He drove his car right through the gate and into the dark unknown. The gate lowered slowly behind us blocking out any remaining light from the street. We were now in total darkness. I was starting to have my life flash swiftly before my eyes. All of a sudden the lights came on and the car started moving up. We were in an oversized elevator for cars, apparently. I heard a ding and then I saw numbers illuminating one by one: 2, 3, 4, 5, then stop on the fifth floor. Louis got out first and came to my side. I felt faint. My legs were shaking. My heart was beating out of my chest, and my mouth was wide open trying to gasp as much air into my lungs as possible. This is how horror movies began, with naïve stupid girls like me going to unknown places with gorgeous men like him—and nobody knows where the hell they are. I should've at least told Sara.
"Baby, relax, breathe. Please don't be nervous. I promise I won't make you do anything you won't be begging me to do."
That didn't make me feel better at all.
"Louis, this is a little crazy. We just officially met last night and I don't really know you and I'm at a warehouse with you, alone. Nobody knows I'm with you." Maybe I shouldn't have told him nobody knew I was with him. Now he'd definitely kill me.
"Emily, I promise I don't live in a warehouse. I don't want to hurt you. I just really need to be alone with you. I want to kiss you and taste you. I need to touch every inch of you. I don't want to worry about looking like a pervert in some public place. I'd go back to your place, but if your parents knew what I plan to do to their daughter, they'd have me arrested. This is just a comfortable place for us to explore each other privately and intimately … don't be scared, baby."
I took a very deep overdue breath.
"You technically haven't even set foot in my house, just my car lift."
Okay, this is it. It's time to pay the piper. I smiled, took another deep breath, and bravely walked through the huge drawn iron gate that Louis was now holding open for me.
When I walked through Louis' gate, I wasn't prepared for what I saw. I guess because we hadn't yet had the opportunity to really get to know one another, I didn't know what kind of style he preferred. Was he into ultra-modern or Art Deco design? My brain really didn't let my head conjure up what kind of house a thirty-year-old successful bachelor living in New York would have.
Maybe it was my traditional upbringing. I lived in the same townhouse my whole life. My mother designed our traditional five-story home with lots of warm earth tones. My house always seemed warm and very pleasant. This is what I considered normal.
Louis, on the other hand, wasn't kidding when he said his lair. Since we entered from the side the whole space seemed to just sprawl out indefinitely in both directions. It was like Crocodile Dundee called Indiana Jones and asked him to design his New York City bachelor pad. I could sense Louis watching me for some kind of verbal reaction: wow, beautiful, great. Any of those words would've worked. I was so shocked and unprepared for this visual feast, that I really couldn't produce any coherent acknowledgment of my feelings. My eyes did all the talking for me by enlarging to the size of plates.
I was in the biggest tree house on the planet. Everywhere I looked I saw raw wood, leather, animal skins, and rope used to hold things up. The staircase was suspended in midair in the middle of this huge loft space. It looked like a flattened out and then coiled ladder, made of wide, highly polished tree planks that were held together by thick rope. I think I'd be scared of falling trying to walk up that thing. The room had such high ceilings that the staircase seemed to just float right into the sky. I have to admit the effect was breathtaking.
There was a wall on the left side full of old worn out books that made the New York public library seem small. The books seemed to reach all the way up to the thirty-foot ceiling. I craned my head up to find at least ten chandeliers. They were all made out of some kind of tusks. Never in a million years would I envisage Louis Bruel, playboy millionaire, living in a tree house. Louis stood quietly holding my hand and letting me slowly drink it all in. I finally landed back on his dark searching eyes. I could tell by his weak smile that he was nervous of my reaction to his so-called home.
"So Emily, what do you think? Is it a little too wild for you?"
I exhaled and nodded. "Yeah … wow, it's not what I expected. Not that I've known you long enough to have any expectations. It's just that I don't think I've ever seen anything like this. Louis, it's tremendous and unreal. It almost looks like a movie set."
"Are you disappointed?" he asked me, his smile weakening.
"No! Not disappointed, just overwhelmed and surprised … it's so huge and very masculine. I just need a minute to take this all in. But it's the most spectacular thing I've ever seen."
He finally sm
iled. I could feel him relax when he released the death grip he had on my hand.
"It used to be a pen factory before World War Two. It was the first building my dad bought in the early sixties. I suspect it was already run down when he purchased it. I couldn't bring myself to sell this place. I knew in my gut my dad would've wanted me to keep it. I turned the whole factory into my dad's favorite book, Lord of the Flies by William Golding. He started reading me that book as a bedtime story when I was six or seven years old. Emily, I was enamored. That's the book that did it for me and started my love of reading."
I was staring up at him in awe. Could a red Ferrari driving millionaire really be so nostalgically idyllic? I didn't even know he liked to read. He continued telling me what I suspected was not at all common knowledge.
"My dad and I would spend lots of time together analyzing that book. I woke up one morning all grown up and was told my dad was gone. I read that fucking book over and over; it helped me remember our heated debates about that paradisiacal country. Years later when I was showing this place to some asshole investors, they were talking about turning this building into condos. I thought, no way! My dad, if he were alive, wouldn't sell it to be turned into some overpriced condos. That's when I turned one of my favorite memories of my eccentrically romantic dad into a fantasy world."
I was looking at him, floored by his private revelation, when he drew me into a hug resting his chin on my head and continued talking. "This place helps me keep him close since I never got a chance to say goodbye to him. If he could see me now, if he could see all this, he'd know I love him."
I pulled away from him so I could look at his face. I was really falling in love with this man, one word at a time.
"Come, I want to show you the upstairs."
He was trying to change the somber mood that had descended upon us. I followed Louis up the hovering stairs, still fearful of falling. Although the stairs looked flimsy, they were anything but. He was taking two stairs at a time. I had to run just to keep up with him.
"What's upstairs?" I asked in a breathless voice half way up the stairs.
"My bed," I heard him say right before my heart dropped back to the bottom of the stairs.
Chapter 8
Pay or play...
When we got up the stairs I was winded from the run, but then I was breathless from the sight. In the middle of what seemed like a black still lake stood a huge wooden platform, almost like a manmade raft. The structure appeared to be floating in water. His bed was covered in a white cloud of sheets with at least twenty scattered pillows. The same birch wooden branches that made up the base of the bed were also entwined and molded to form four thick bedposts that held up a translucent gauzy fabric. The floor looked wet and shiny. It was composed of black, polished river rocks. Blackout curtains were drawn shut all around the colossal room. The only light was emanating from the soft sprinkle of tiny lights covering the entire ceiling. The countless little twinkling lights above us looked like a galaxy full of stars. The whole clever design gave the illusion of walking at night on water. I was flabbergasted.
Before I could recover and voice my awe, Louis lifted me off my feet and very groom-like carried me to his bed. I wrapped my arms around his neck and inhaled his heady scent. When we got to the bed he didn't put me down. He was just standing by the bed with me nestled in his strong arms and he was calmly watching and assessing me. He didn't have to ask with words; his knowing eyes were silently begging me for permission.
I ran my hand over his face and moved my lips to his ear and whispered, "Louis, I'm so scared … but I want you so much right now."
He let out a suppressed throaty sound from deep within. He then walked us up steps on the side of the bed that I hadn't yet noticed. Louis gently lowered us both into the floating cloud and started ravaging my mouth like a caveman. He knelt between my parted legs and we kissed each other fiercely. Tongues lapping, teeth biting lips, lips sucking face. Every once in a while his fingers moved between our lips, almost as if his lips and fingers were in competition for contact with my mouth. He was making these sounds in the back of his mouth that I could feel resonating all the way in my stomach.
"Emily, you here … in my bed … feels incredible … thank you," he said between kisses. "I know you're a little overwhelmed but please baby, I need you to touch me. I need to know you want this as much as I do."
That's when I realized I'd been holding myself propped up on my elbows, virtually immobile and rigid for the last few minutes of our heated commingling. I let go with one of my propped hands and started touching his chest. He pulled back and removed his V-neck t-shirt in one swift move and threw it out of our floating barge. I took in my first view of Louis Bruel shirtless. I didn't even want to blink for fear of missing a nanosecond of this view. It wasn't fair for someone to look as good as he looked. His perfect body was a sight to behold. I couldn't take my eyes off his ripped chest, the bulging biceps. Oh God, the lean torso. Every muscle was defined and strained. His broad chest rose and fell, trying to take in deep breaths. I just wanted to keep touching and feeling him until my alarm clock finally went off and I needed to wake up. There was no way this was my life! He decided I'd touched him enough. He climbed back over me and laid me flat down.
"You like what you see, little girl?" he asked me cockily.
I don't think there's a woman, man, or child alive who wouldn't like the sight of Louis Bruel half-naked. He also decided that I'd seen enough and started kissing me again. He was kneading my swollen breasts with his long, adroit fingers. I knew that all he had to do was find my nipples and I'd come apart for him. A few minutes or hours later he pulled away from my lips. Very slowly and softly he moved his lips down my neck and then found my breasts. Running his tongue over the fabric of my dress he lingered between my breasts.
"Nobody should smell this good. You're going to fucking drive me crazy."
He was inhaling my scent and then continued his journey down my stomach. He was breathing and nibbling through my cotton dress. I found that extremely ticklish. I immediately started giggling and drawing my legs up to stop his heavenly torment.
"You think it's funny what I'm about to do to you, little girl?"
That comment sobered me up, and trepidation crept in. He cocked an eyebrow and smiled sensually at me. Louis ran his fingertips from my hips down my now fully exposed bare legs.
"Relax, baby. I won't hurt you … I just need to worship at your altar for a little bit or I'll lose my mind."
His voice was so deep and sexy. His touch sent goose bumps all over my body. When he got to my feet he very smoothly untied my espadrilles. One by one he removed my shoes. He took each of my feet, which fit completely into his large hands. Very slowly he started running his finger up and down my arch. I was ready to come just from that act alone. But no, that would've been too easy. I closed my eyes in pleasure and moaned out a rendition of his name. I then, very unexpectedly, felt his tongue on my feet where his fingers had just finished their delicious assault. This was insane. This feeling was like nothing my body had ever felt before. His hot tongue licking my feet and sucking my toes felt incredibly erotic.
"Louis, stop!"
"Stop what, baby? Doesn't this feel good?"
"It feels too good," I managed to exhale.
"Then I won't stop. I'm tasting every inch of you, Emily. I've dreamt this scenario in my head all night."
He ran his hands, followed by his tongue, up my legs. I was clenching my legs close together to try to give my throbbing clit some relief. He gently ran his hand in between my thighs, slowly ascending to his final destination—my now soaking panties.
"Open your legs for me; I won't bite," he said, and then added, "well, not yet, anyway."
Liquid was pouring out of me. My heart rate was at a steady two hundred beats per minute. My eyes were swimming with desire. I opened my legs a few inches apart. Louis stroked up and down my wet panties. He was watching my reaction
to his seductive touch. I looked down and could see how hard he was. All he had on were low-rise faded Levi's. His jeans now had a huge bulge against the button fly. God, I wanted to touch him, but I felt so out of my league. I felt as if my limbs were heavy, almost paralyzed. I just lay there panting like a sacrificial lamb awaiting its slaughter. I was lost in my momentary reverie when I felt his hot breath against my wet panties. I gasped and started to lift myself up.
"Shhhh … baby, don't move, not yet. Lie back. I'm about to taste your sweet pussy. Feel free to come in my mouth," he said in a deep, low hypnotic voice. Louis then lifted my skirt up and over my hip. He continued with the gentlest of touches, removing my white lace G-string. He climbed and knelt in between my spread legs. Seeing this sex god of a man crouched between my legs, watching him take in my half naked form was incredibly erotic. His smooth rocklike chest rose and fell. Every muscle on his torso was defined. All of it adding to the potent sexual fuel feeding my lust for this man. A trace of hair starting right under his belly button and traveling south was visible. I took a deep breath, trying to drink this all in and not go crazy with passion. He gave me a half smile and lowered himself all the way in between my legs. He ran his finger through my very trimmed pubic hair. He lowered his nose into my folds and inhaled. I felt like this was it; all the hype was about this right here, right now.
"I take it back, there's no way I'm giving up my sense of smell. You smell too fucking good." He lapped his tongue from where my hole started all the way up to my clit. "Delicious … better than any of my dreams," he moaned into my crotch.
Love In Rewind Page 5
