against mine. She was perfect. “I need to be inside you, baby.”
Emmy let out a whimper and my dick jumped. I loved her soft, feminine sounds. Backing her across the room while my tongue flirted with hers, I gave Emmy a playful shove onto the bed. She laid back, a little grin tugging up her lips.
Her eyes danced on mine while her smile grew even wider. I loved seeing her honest reactions to me. The flush of her skin, the way she bit into her bottom lip. She was beautiful, natural. And something inside me loved that. Maybe it was this overly critical, overly judgmental business I was in, but I admired her simplicity. Maybe it was her country upbringing—hell, maybe it was just her. But whatever it was, Emmy Clarke was quickly becoming a habit.
As I stood in front of her, her eyes wandered from mine, down my chest, and rested on the erection tenting my slacks. She bit her lip again.
“Come here.” I extended a hand toward her, and she accepted, placed her small palm against mine, and crawled across the bed toward me.
Emmy knelt in front of me, those large blue-gray eyes watching my movements as I freed my belt buckle.
She licked her lips as I unbuttoned my pants and then slowly tugged down my zipper. Leaning up on her knees, Emmy’s hands reached forward to help. I clasped her hands in mine, placing them firmly by her sides. “Behave.”
Her eyes widened at my warning, but she obeyed. She was naturally feisty yet so submissive in the bedroom. It was a big fucking turn-on. I pushed my jeans and boxers down my legs and then gripped my length. Her pulse fluttered erratically in her neck and her eyes zeroed in on my cock. I lazily stroked my length, slowly drawing my hand from base to tip. The desire in her eyes made me rock fucking hard.
I cupped Emmy’s cheek. “Come here, pretty girl.”
Looking up at me with complete lust, Emmy leaned forward and opened her mouth.
The warm caress of her tongue was fucking bliss. Emmy opened wider, her eyes still locked on mine as I pushed forward, filling her. When the head of my cock hit the back of her throat, she gagged slightly and I retreated, reluctantly dragging myself out. Still covered in her saliva, Emmy stroked me, her little hands massaging and caressing me. It felt amazing. It didn’t want to stop her but she still had far too many clothes on. I wanted to see her beautiful tits, to kiss her all over, to make her come, to fuck her senseless.
Grabbing the hem of her shirt, I lifted and she obediently raised her arms above her head, allowing me to remove it. She wore a lavender lace bra I hadn’t seen before. I liked that there were so many things to discover still. It was a pretty, frilly thing, but I wanted it the fuck off her body. Reaching behind her to free the clasp, the bra dropped down her arms and I removed it slowly while leaning down to kiss her full mouth. I didn’t think I could ever get tired of kissing her mouth. The little breathy sounds she made, the way her hands restlessly tugged me, trying to get closer. She was so sexual and sweet at the same time. It was heaven.
Emmy
Several weeks passed and Ben and I continued seeing each other regularly. I knew I was being delusional, I knew we weren’t dating. You didn’t date a man like Ben Shaw. He couldn’t be tamed. He was like Clooney. But we’d been having regular sex, enjoying meals together, and talking; he shared things with me, as I did with him. I had no idea what all that added up to. The question was, did it matter? A man like Ben had the potential to destroy me. I knew from that first time he’d been inside me, moving above me, his stubble scraping against my neck, his warm breath on my shoulder. We were closer than I’d been with anyone. My body was addicted, my heart was engaged, but my head knew this would probably end badly.
I had a weakness where he was concerned. I couldn’t stay away. His relationship with Fiona still worried me. We’d never spoken about that teary moment in his hotel room. Ben didn’t offer up the information about what Fiona was doing there that night, and I never asked.
Whatever their history, I wasn’t sure, but he was her golden boy and I was her country-bumpkin assistant. She freaked if he overlooked taking his vitamins. She’d no doubt think me touching him tainted him in some way.
Ben had casting calls and fittings during the day, which was fine, because Fiona kept me running. He sent me unexpected sweet texts while I was at work to let me know he was thinking of me. In one he grumbled about an outfit a designer had put him in. After some prodding, he’d sent me a funny picture. The outfit looked like a lampshade. But he still looked hot. My lampshade hottie.
Paris Fashion Week was coming up and I knew Ben was going to walk in several designers’ shows. I was excited to see him on the catwalk, with all eyes glued to him and knowing he was mine. I felt like Cinderella who’d somehow captured Prince Charming’s attention.
I glanced down at my watch; I couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel and see him. It was ridiculous how attached I had become to him.
Ben waved an airline ticket at me. “Milan tomorrow. Wanna come?”
Fiona hadn’t mentioned anything about Milan, which I took to mean I wasn’t invited. “I can’t just go to Milan with you. I have to work.”
He crossed the hotel room, his warm hand coming around me to cup my backside. “Oh, I’ll put you to work.” His hand caressed my bottom, pulling me closer so he could plant a soft kiss on my lips.
Pulling back before I got lost in his kisses, I placed a hand on his chest. “Fiona won’t just let me go with you guys for the fun of it.”
“She’s not coming. It’s just me. And you, if you’ll join me. It’s only one night.”
I looked at him skeptically. She wasn’t coming?
“She has doctor appointments. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of Fiona,” he said.
The fact that he was willing to discuss me with Fiona was a big deal. He planted a soft kiss against my forehead before stepping away and pulling his phone from his pocket. He dialed and resumed packing a small brown leather bag that sat open on his bed.
“Hey. It’s me,” he said into the phone. “Fine, and you?” He continued shoving items into the bag while I paced the room. Fiona was going to freak. “I’d like Emmy to join me in Milan. Can you do without her for a night?”
He paused, listening, while I held my breath.
“Thank you, that’d be great.”
He ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed. “Go pack, babe.”
I stood there, dumbfounded. “She said yes?”
He flashed me a gorgeous smile. “She’s calling the airline now to get you a ticket.”
Fiona was calling to arrange my ticket? Had I entered an alternate universe? Clearly Ben had powers of persuasion with her. Something about the blind way she obeyed him didn’t sit well with me, but I nodded and ventured to my room.
When we arrived at the airline ticket counter Ben’s cheerful mood disappeared. The agent told him my ticket had been booked in coach, back of the plane, middle seat. With him sitting in first class, we wouldn’t be sitting together. It looked like Fiona had exacted her revenge.
Ben began conversing with the woman in French while I stood uselessly beside him. His jaw tensed while she clicked away at her keyboard.
I tugged on his arm. “It’s okay if we’re not together. It’s a quick flight.”
“I’m seeing if I can get you a seat in first class with me, and if not, I’m getting moved to coach.”
“Ben, no, that’s silly. I’m fine in coach.” It was Fiona’s way of pointing out my place.
He and the agent exchanged a few more tense words and then he pulled out his wallet and handed her his credit card.
“You don’t have to do this; first class is expensive.”
“I want to, baby. Let me do this.” His hand found mine and he laced our fingers together.
I nodded, seeing that he wasn’t going to be deterred. It did feel nice to be looked after like this, though. And I’d never sat in first class before.
