Abbey is already pretending to vomit into a big bucket. Sash reaches over and pushes her playfully on the shoulder.
"You know what you should totally do"
Abbey has a mischievous glint in her eye.
"What?"
"You should go to California and surprise him."
"What? No. I can't do that."
"Yes you can, you totally can. Go to the airport get a flight, turn up at his hotel, surprise him and fuck his brains out. It's exactly what you should do. It's not like you haven't got the money."
Sash thinks on it for a moment and then pushes the idea away. "He said he wanted me to show him I could trust him. If I turn up at the hotel, it'll look like I don't."
"Yeah but that's not why your going. You're going to surprise him, not to catch him out. And if he's not doing anything wrong, then there's nothing for him to get worried about."
"I don't know."
"Think about it, Sash. You're on a boring business conference without the girl you're supposed to be hot for. What's better than having that girl turn up unannounced to fuck your brains out! I'd totally do it. It's so romantic. He'll love you for it too."
"Do you think?"
"Uh-huh, like totally. He'd be so hard for that."
Sash shifts her position again, so she's lying on her back with her head rested on Abbey's thigh.
"It has been almost too weeks."
"And you don't know when he's coming back?"
"He hasn't called."
"Sash!"
"I know, it's not normal, I've left messages, but I guess he's busy working."
"Too busy to take a moment to call? You should definitely go. A weekend is one thing, but two weeks without calling. You need to go claim him and show him who he belongs to."
"Maybe you're right."
"Of course I'm right. I'm always right. If you don't show men who's in control, they'll try and take that control for themselves. I worked that out a long time ago."
"I'll think about it."
"You do that."
Sash pulls herself upright. "In the meantime, how do you feel about going shopping, and spending some of Dante's hard earned cash?"
Abbey grins, her face splitting into a wide smile. "I thought you'd never ask."
Chapter 22
The private consultation room looks more like a campus study retreat, where a senior lecturer might compose his thesis, rather than the office of a world class surgeon. There is a beautiful, Georgian, mahogany writing desk with a red leather inlay at which Dr Chaudrey is sat, wooden paneling across the bottom third of all of the walls, a rectangular cross beamed window, more books than a small library stacked in every available space, half of which look like they have never been read, and the most striking feature of all, a huge, splay fronted open fire that can't help but dominate the room.
"We have two options", Dr Chaudrey explains. "We can offer an artificial solution, which some couples prefer, or we can operate. The operation itself is a relatively non -invasive procedure that in most cases can be done with a local anesthetic. The artificial solution is a little less complicated, although doesn't offer quite the same effect. It is a special cellulose pouch that requires insertion into the vagina a short time before intercourse, to create the required effect."
"We're not interested in an artificial solution. This is very important to us. My partner's virginity was stolen, and we need it back for her to feel whole again. We need you to make her as perfect as she was. Money, of course, is no object."
"Yes, I understand completely. An operation is always my preferred course of action too. It is the only way we can be certain of returning the body to its initial stage."
"Can you guarantee that the operation will work?"
"Yes, absolutely, one hundred percent. I have been performing this operation for most of my career. It's a very simple procedure that takes less than two hours to complete. Afterwards the vagina is as good as new."
He smiles when he says this, aware than the phrase when used in this context seems a little out of place.
"I must warn you, however, that penetrative sex immediately after the operation is not advised."
"Isn't that precisely what the operation is for?"
"Absolutely."
Dr Chaudrey shakes his head somewhat contradictorily from side to side. "But in this case, general consensus in this industry is three months, personal advise directly from me, the surgeon, is to wait at least three weeks to a month for the skin to heal and strengthen."
"And if someone decided not to follow your advise?"
"Then the experience might not be as authentic as it should be."
"How different would the experience be?"
"It's impossible to say."
"Are you telling me that every woman that comes in here to have the operation done, waits at least three weeks before she has penetrative sex?"
"It's a recuperation period, Mr Hix, that's what we advise the body needs as an absolute minimum in order to provide an authentic experience. Once our patients leave the clinic, we have no control over what they do."
Dante looks away briefly to the fireplace. The charred remains of two large logs still sit in the grate, from the last time it was lit, over fifteen years ago.
"What would you need to do, for penetrative sex to be possible on the very same day of the operation?"
"That is a question I cannot answer."
"In that case-."
Dante is already on the way to standing up. "-Thank you for your time."
"Wait."
Dr Chaudrey puts his hand up to stop him. "Please sit down."
"I don't believe there is anything we can do to help each other."
"There is something we can do. It's not how I would perform the operation, but I understand different clients have different requirements. Please, sit down."
"Go on."
Dante retakes his seat.
"I can make the new area thicker, but it would mean that you would have to have sex on the same day, otherwise you might not be able to penetrate the area at all once it fully heals. It might hurt a little bit as well, for both of you, at least to begin with. The area will be tender and much more sensitive."
"But it will mean that we will be able to have sex immediately, and the sensation will be the same? It will be just as authentic?"
Dr Chaudrey nods. "That I can confirm absolutely to you. I don't advise it, but I can confirm it and I will perform the operation for you."
"Then I think we can help each other out after all."
"When would you like the operation to be performed?"
"I believe we might be ready at some point this weekend. I need to confirm it with my partner first."
"Good. I will need to meet your partner of course, receive her written consent and perform a series of tests before we begin."
"Tests?"
"Procedural", Dr Chaudrey says quickly, the look on Dante's face one of suspicious concern. "Nothing serious at all. We just need to confirm that she's fit enough for the operation to be performed."
"You have her medical records already", Dante points out.
"Yes."
"You just need to check the boxes."
Dr Chaudrey is aware that it's not a question. "Exactly."
"I want you to make yourself available for whenever we need you."
"If you let me know as soon as you know, I can usually get you seen within seventy two hours."
Dante shakes his head. From the moment I leave this office, until the moment we leave the surgery, you are available at a moment's notice. Do you understand me when I say that money is no object."
"Mr Hix, I have several patients waiting for operations."
"Not anymore."
Dr Chaudrey laughs nervously.
"What is your daily rate?"
"It depends on the amount of operations."
"Choose a figure."
Dr Chaudrey takes a moment to regard the billionaire. He'
s deadly serious about this.
"Five thousand a day."
"Congratulations, Dr Chaudrey, you've just got a pay rise."
"Ok."
Dr Chaudrey nods enthusiastically.
"Keep your phone on, I'll call you", Dante says. A moment later he's out of his seat and by the door. "Oh, if you fuck this up, I won't be happy."
Chapter 23
Sixteen days after she last saw him and five days after she left her last message, her patience worn completely through yet again, Sash decides that there is only one course of action left to her. Abbey is right. She needs to go and claim her itinerant stepbrother and show him who he really belongs to. She wants to trust him, but enough is enough. Sixteen days without a single call, and still no indication of when he's going to come home again is enough for any girl. She's upset, disappointed in him, and back to square one yet again.
She has the name of his hotel. She'll get on the earliest flight they can give her, track him down and let him know how she feels. He can't treat her like this, hanging on to his every word, hoping that each time her cell phone rings it's going to be him. Spending weeks apart in two different cities isn't the kind of relationship that she had in mind. She needs him with her and if he can't even do that, she's going to have to rethink her plan all over again. Yeah it's great having his money, but it means nothing at the end of the day if he's not here to share the experiences with her. What's the point of that?
She packs a small bag with expensive clothes, things she feels like Dante will love to see her in, and takes a taxi out to the airport. Jutting out of the skyline proudly like a huge steel cock stands that symbol of power and wealth she can't seem to stop looking at.
Dante's office tower.
At the airport, she asks for the next available flight to Los Angeles, buying a ticket in business class, because the extra luxury seems like exactly the kind of thing she deserves. With a couple of hours before her flight leaves, she relaxes in the first class lounge sipping sparkling water and eating canapés of exotic and unusual flavors, taking care to find out first of all if any of them contain ingredients that an expectant mother might wish to avoid.
Once again, she's reminded how easily she could adapt to this lifestyle, but only with someone else by her side. There are several moments she would love to share, only to find herself unable to comment to anyone but herself. In the absence of company, and tired of looking around at the other passengers, most of whom are traveling with loved ones or entire families, she loses herself in her cell, messaging Abbey constantly to give her a blow by blow account of her experience.
On the plane, she finds herself sharing the business class section with only two other passengers. She's never experienced anything like this before. The last time she flew was for a dance trip to Toronto, and she barely had any space in front of her to stretch her legs. This time her seat flattens completely into a bed. This time she has a mini-bar, a flat screen TV, an Egyptian cotton, goose down filled pillow, a three course meal and a personal in-flight attendant. She flattens the seat not because she wants to go to sleep, but just because she can. She smiles at the other two passengers, who nod at her and share knowing glances, of their own, very first business class flight, when they spent the whole journey doing exactly the same.
Sash is easily pleased, but her excitement at having something so luxurious, ten thousand feet in the air, seems like a treat better than all of the other ones put together.
The food is good too. She's had better, but for something that has been cooked in the aviatic equivalent of an industrial microwave, she's more than impressed. It's a three hour hop to L.A. It's enough time for Sash to gather her thoughts and think about how she wants to proceed. Turning a magazine over in her hands, far too distracted to read it, she finds herself thinking less about what Dante will say, and more about what he'll do.
Those rippled muscles flexing as he enters her. That stormy look in his eyes of absolute, undivided attention. His thick, swollen cock thumping gloriously against her G-spot as he takes her and makes her his own. His need. His greed. His desire. Just the hint of the memory is enough to make her panties wet. She can't wait to see what he's got in store for her. Yeah, he might be mad that she's disobeyed him, but look what happened last time, when she sent him those provocative pictures. A mad, jealous Dante she can handle. An absent one is a different prospect entirely.
She tries to take her mind of it by watching TV, but she can't concentrate for long enough to make it worthwhile.
Instead she finds herself idly flicking through the selection of magazines they have on offer, losing herself for long periods of time with one called "Baby and Mother."
The flight attendant smiles as she passes. When she comes back to replenish Sash's mineral water, she can't resist asking.
"You must be very recent", she says, nodding at the magazine and the fact Sash isn't showing. "Usually it takes about three months to see the bump."
Sash's hand instinctively goes to her belly.
"Is it your first?"
Sash nods, unsure how to react. Just talking about it makes it sound real. "How did you know?" she says eventually.
"A mother can always tell. I've got two already, two months into the third. It's less scary than you think."
"I hope so", Sash says.
"You'll be fine. As soon as it comes along, you'll want another, you'll see."
"I guess that depends on the dad."
"Men go crazy around babies, haven't you seen them? They're worse than women. You think he's protective of you, wait until the little one comes along. It's worse with a girl too. I've got one of each, so I hope to God this next one is another boy."
"I haven't decided what I'd prefer. I think I'd be happy with either."
"Well you've got a good chance of that", the flight attendant says with a smile, before work takes her off in a different direction and Sash is left feeling warm and gooey inside.
The flight lands at LAX airport just before 6pm. Sash is chaperoned through the terminal to the taxi rank, a porter by her side to carry her bag and make sure she doesn't get lost. She has never been to California before, let alone L.A. The first thing she notices is the accent, the second, how big everything is. The roads are wider, the cars larger, the woman taller and fuller-chested.
It takes an hour to get from the airport to the city, and a further fifteen minutes to crawl through the traffic to Dante's hotel. The driver is good natured but talkative, and even though it takes her mind slightly off what is about to come, his direct questions make her flush with embarrassment. She giggles nervously and doesn't give too much away. She's here on vacation, her boyfriend is already at their hotel, and this is her first time on the west coast.
By the time she arrives, her heart is thumping away, and she's got a cold sweat of anxiety clinging to the back of her neck. Once again she's gone against his wishes and decided to take matters into her own hands. She has no idea whether he is here. For all she knows, he might already be back in New York, preparing himself to call her. It's a possibility, however unlikely. What she hopes, more than anything else, is that he's not here with another girl. Sash pushes the thought away. She can't help but think it, but being pessimistic is not going to help her. If he is, she'll have to cross that bridge when she comes to it.
The doorman smiles a greeting and holds open the door for her. Inside, she stares a moment at the double fronted sweeping staircase, the ornate marble detailing and the huge chandelier, before she makes her way to the reception desk. It's an incredible place, in some ways even more elegant than her own temporary residence in New York. This is typical Dante. Even before asking, she knows he's staying here. At least he hasn't lied to her about that.
The gentleman on reception is more than happy to help. He knows Dante well, having been a regular customer of theirs for over two years. He is, Sash is reliably informed, staying in the most expensive suite in the hotel, the aptly named Emperor's Chamber, and, more importantly,
he is currently up in his room.
He is about to call Dante to inform him a guest has arrived, but Sash is quick to stop him.
"It's a secret", she says, nerves straining her voice. "He doesn't know I'm coming and I want to surprise him."
The receptionist knows the value of the game immediately. He's seen many pretty girls come and go over his years here, some of whom have required complete anonymity.
"The bellboy will take you to his door", he says with a smile.
There is a palpable silence between them as the elevator climbs almost to the roof, a special key inserted to give them the necessary access. The whole of the top floor of the hotel has been given over to the room Dante is staying in, so only one door looks out to the corridor. The bell-boy carries her bag to the door, waits patiently for a tip and then silently enters the elevator again.
Sash watches him go. When she is sure he is completely out of earshot, she stands in front of the apartment door and composes herself.
She's fifteen again on the first day she saw him.
She's eighteen again and in her bedroom dancing.
She's in his office, three years later, standing in front of the huge wooden doors, her heart racing.
She's hot and cold, and full of anxiety.
She's here now and Dante's on the other side of the door.
Her stepbrother.
Her aching need.
Her one true love.
With her breath held, Sash raises her fist and knocks on the door.
Chapter 24
The wait is agonizing. Her heart won't stop thumping. Finally, after what seems like a million years, she hears footsteps approaching the door, and then watches as the door slowly swings open. What is she going to say? How is she going to explain her sudden and unexpected arrival? The words are like a jumble of nonsense in her head and she can't think straight for the nerves.
And then, as though he's not been gone more than a minute, she sees him. Wide smile, stormy eyes, a true representation of perfection. There is a moment that passes. A moment in which neither of them say a thing. A moment in which Sash feels a mix of emotions rushing to her all at once.
Heated: A Stepbrother Romance (Full Length Novel) Page 12
