Bookish (13 page)

He was making the hottest little grunts of gratification that sent me farther over the edge into the abyss of orgasm that I was still new to.

I cried out as he slipped his thumb inside of me and matched my sucking rhythm with his own motion.

“There you are, Ms. Britton,” he groaned, “come on my hand. Come for me, good girl.”

I felt it building, starting in my pussy and radiating up my spine until I felt as though my head were floating somewhere above us. I wanted to come, I wanted to drink his cum, I wanted us to come together.

I made a needy whining noise and sped up on his cock. He said, “You’ll drink me when you come, love. We’ll do this together.”

That was enough for me; I plunged into that abyss and felt the hot waves of orgasmic pleasure wash over me, threatening to drown me. Isaac’s cock in my mouth was an anchor though, and I was overcome with a powerful joy when he tensed up, his hand went still and his cock pulsed his own completion into the back of my throat.

I know it sounds odd, but I loved the taste of him. I loved the scent of him wafting over me, but I loved how sweet and earthy he tasted on my tongue.

Absolutely everything about this moment in time froze for me in utter perfection. I felt as though I could step out of myself and see us in bright three dimensions, his face, my face, our mutual pleasure, and the intensity of this mutual satisfaction that was slowly knitting us together.

In our orgasm, we bonded, and I didn’t know how I would ever go back from this place.

I collapsed on him and he finished with a final twitching groan. I pulled back from him and let him slide slowly from my lips. He moaned and said, “Aubrey, love, that was the nicest way I think I’ve ever been woken up.”

I laughed and replied, “Yes, much better than an alarm clock.”

He grabbed my arm and pulled me onto his chest. I laid my head there and listened to his breathing and the vibration of his deep voice through his flesh.

We talked, we laughed, we dreamed. And we bonded, joined ourselves in some shared moment.

I only hoped it was real, not some post-sex hallucination.

I decided to hope for the best and expect the worst.

But until that time came, I allowed myself to believe this was real, that this was meaningful, and we were two people coming together in an act of love.

Chapter Sixteen

“Shit, shit shit,” I exclaimed under my breath.

Isaac’s eyebrows went up. “Ms. Britton, such language.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied, “I can’t find my panties. It’s bad enough I’m doing the walk of shame and I’ll probably be late for work, but I don’t want to go out there almost naked.”

It was day two at Isaac’s I’d already taken the previous day and knew I could never beg off another one. I had to be there by noon and desperately try to hide my satisfaction and smug smiles from my coworkers.

They would die if they found out who I’d spent two nights with.

“I don’t mind,” he said, “I rather like it when you talk dirty to me.” He winked, leaned down, reached under the edge of the bed and produced my fanciest pair of panties. That was the real reason I needed them, I didn’t have another nice pair. The rest of my collection was pastel coloured Hanes Her Way type things. Cotton, super comfy, and the opposite of sexy.

The nice ones had been an impulse buy, my, “wishful thinking panties” Chloe had called them at the time. Thank god I had been optimistic back then, or else I would have had to wear the boring ones.

“Thanks,” I said and grabbed them mid-air when he tossed them at me, “I couldn’t remember where they’d ended up.” I slid them up my long legs and caught him staring at me like a starving man watching one of those cartoon pork chops. “You need to stop looking at me or I’ll never get out of here,” I told him and pulled my pants on. I did up the button and bent down to find my glasses.

“You need to stop showing off your sexy ass, or you will definitely never leave,” he said, reached over the bed and spanked me.

I shrieked and giggled and jumped away. I put my glasses on, pushed them up my nose and said, “Isaac, I’m serious. I have to get to work.”

“You don’t look that serious, Ms. Britton,” he said and came around the bed. He took me in his arms, kissed me and said, “In fact, you look sexy to me. Aroused even, am I correct?”

I sighed and smiled, “Okay, you got me Mr. James. I am very aroused, but I believe that is going to be a constant when I’m around you. We will just have to learn to adjust our lives around that fact. Now let me go and get this over with, the walk of shame.”

“You won’t be doing the walk of shame, love, I would never allow that to happen,” he said and kissed me again.

My lower lip was in his teeth when I said, “What do you mean? I didn’t drive here remember.”

“I’m taking you home,” he said after releasing my lip, “I would never dream of sending you off on your own. You’re mine now, Aubrey, get used to being taken care of.”

“I suppose I could get used to that,” I replied, “but until then, I have to get home, clean up and make my way to work.”

“I do believe I will accompany you,” he said, “my schedule mysteriously cleared up for the day. Just now in fact.”

He grinned and quickly got dressed. I knew him well enough by now to know he wasn’t as polished as usual, he also suffered from a distinct lack of sleep combined with very vigorous activities, but damn he was still smoking hot. Most people wouldn’t notice the satisfied fatigue that played over his face as he shrugged into a hoodie and grabbed his wallet.

I did though, satisfied and smug, just like the look I wore. We were perfect for each other.

“Shall we?” he asked and held out his arm. I clutched my handbag in one hand and placed my other one on his arm.

“We shall,” I said and we left the apartment.

We took his private elevator to the underground garage. The car we took was different than the one we’d arrived in, but it was equally impressive. Something fast, sleek and very expensive.

We drove up to street level, he leaned over to kiss me as the door opened, and we were immediately surrounded by paparazzi.

Cameras flashed, people yelled, and I felt instant panic. He grabbed my hand, gave me a little squeeze and said, “It’s okay, they’re harmless. They’re annoying, but they know their boundaries.”

He drove slowly through them, allowing time for the crowd to part, and zoomed off the moment we were clear of them.

“Holy shit,” I said and turned in my seat to look back at the group we left behind. There were at least twenty of them, men and women, and almost every one of them was hunched over a phone right now. I hoped we wouldn’t make it to TMZ or any other site, and if we did, I hoped I wouldn’t look as atrocious as I did that first night.

“What are their boundaries?” I asked

“Legally they have to stay off private property. Most restaurants and public venues won’t allow them either, some are more aggressive about protecting their clients than others than, so I tend to spend my money at those places. They have better security and I’m willing to pay for it.”

“That’s it then?” I asked, “They’re allowed to just hang around waiting for you to do stuff? That’s insane.”

“It’s their job,” he replied, “I know they’re parasites, but most of them are just normal people. I guess I’m used to it, I grew up in the public eye.”

“I didn’t,” I said, trying not to sound sulky, “but I can get used to it. I just hope I didn’t look as awful as I did that last time.”

“There’s no way you could possibly look awful, love,” he said, “just train yourself not to look at the pics or stories they post. It will all be okay, I promise.”

“I believe you,” I said,  “and I promise I’ll try to shrug it off.”

He took my hand and kissed it at the next red light, smiled at me and I realized the little problem with paparazzi was going to be worth it to be with him. I would get used to it, I had to.

***

We showered, dodged Auntie Abby’s questions, and made it to work at two minutes past noon. Basically on time, close enough at least.

He found a spot right in front of the bookstore and slid the car in expertly. I could not parallel park to save my life, so there was yet another thing that Isaac excelled at that I couldn’t do. I guess I would have to count on my newly found skills at giving the perfect blow job to keep him on the hook.

I smiled to myself at this, he looked at me and I kissed him to avoid explaining my train of thought. I would die if he knew how much he was corrupting my mind and becoming a part of my every waking moment.

He was dropping me off, then he was going to go meet his agent for a late lunch, coming back and spending some time with me at the store and take me home afterwards. We were going to dinner later on, and then back to his place. This time I was going to bring a change of clothes so I could come to work directly in the morning.

He’d insisted on that. He’d insisted I bring my toothbrush and makeup bag. And when he commanded things that sent a thrill of pleasure up and down my spine, I obeyed.

How could I tell him no? How could I spend the night alone in my little bed knowing he was alone in his? How could I not spend every night in his arms, our limbs tangled and our hearts fluttering against each other?

“So this is it,” I said and opened the door. He jumped out and rushed around to help me up. I blushed, feeling a little out of my element with his care and attention. At least there were no cameras to catch my awkward extraction from his low little sports car.

“I’ll see you in,” he said and kissed me, just whisper of the kisses we’d had all night, but the passion he conveyed with even a single brush of his lips on mine was enough to make me flame red hot. I wondered who in the store had seen it.

“It’s okay,” I said, “I’m already late.”

“I insist,” he replied, “or are you embarrassed of me?”

He grinned and I laughed. “It’s not that, I just don’t want you to discover how utterly dull my existence actually is.” I thought about Isaac in the dusty shelves of the store, larger than life crammed into my tiny space, and I couldn’t make myself believe it.

“I want to see every part of your existence,” he said, and stared into my eyes, “you may find it dull, but I find you and your life fascinating. It amazes me that you’ve been here all along, and I might have gone years without finding you if fate hadn’t brought us together.”

“I think you mean Chloe,” I said and laughed, “she’s the one who pushed me in front of you.”

“Then let’s thank Chloe, but let’s get you in there before you’re fired and forced to come work for me,” he said, “and I guarantee I won’t be half as easy as your current boss. I would make you work for your money, love.”

He slapped my ass as I stepped away from him and I giggled. I knew he was joking, but fucking hell, holy hotness…the idea of me working for him as some private sex slave…my god I couldn’t get that thought out of my head. What a fantasy to keep me going through my boring workday.

The bell on the door rang as we stepped through. My boss, Mrs. Whitfield, aka Marta, was standing behind the counter talking to Sylvie, the gorgeous French college student she’d hired just a couple of months before.

Normally I might feel a little threatened bringing my kinda sorta boyfriend around such a hot girl, but Sylvie was hard to hate. On top of being stunning, she was what Auntie Abby would call, “an absolute dear.” She was young, maybe nineteen, and had big, bright eyes that lit up at the slightest good news.

When she clued into who was standing by my side, I thought those big brown eyes were going to pop out of her head though. It was comical.

I knew Marta recognized him, betrayed by the slightest widening of her eyes, but apparently decided to play it cool. Sylvie, however, gasped and made annoyingly adorable squeaking noises while fanning herself.

“Aubrey,” Marta said, “how good of you to join us. Are you fully recovered from your…what was it, headache? Is that what kept you from work yesterday?”

She was a sly old bat, but I loved her. I laughed and said “Yes, thank you Marta, I have fully recovered.”

“Are you going to introduce us to your friend? Or is he your taxi driver? Do you need me to cover your fare? I’ll deduct it from your paycheck,” Marta said and gave Isaac a sidelong glance. She had a little smirk on her face that indicated she was enjoying this a little too much. She’d always worried that I wouldn’t find somebody, that I’d end up dead under a pile of newspapers at home or something.

Why is it when a woman was single over the age of twenty five, everybody in her life assumed she was on the long, lonely road to spinsterhood?

“I assure you, her ride has already been paid for,” Isaac said with a mischievous grin and held out his hand, “Isaac James, at your service. Is there anywhere I can take you today, ma’am?”

I thought Marta was going to lose it right there, she did her best to not burst out laughing and replied, “I do believe I’m rather good, thank you.”

“Anytime,” Isaac said and tipped an imaginary hat at her.

She finally giggled and turned to me, “My god Aubrey, where have you been hiding him?”

“She met him at the book event and she left with him and everybody said they slept together but I didn’t think Aubrey would do something like that but now that she called in sick for the first time in five years according to you and she walks in with Isaac James on her arm like it’s something that happens every day I think she might have slept with him don’t you think Marta?” Sylvie blurted out in one long, steady stream of uninterrupted wordage.

“My god Sylvie, take a breath,” I said and smiled. I grabbed Isaac’s hand and added, “He’s just a guy I like, it doesn’t matter that he happens to be on the cover of almost every romance we have in the shop. He’s a friend. Chill out.”

Now I was the one who was desperately trying to play it cool.

Sylvie looked like she was about to faint. She bit her perfectly adorable bottom lip and managed to look, well, perfectly adorable. I think I always looked a little like the hillbilly from The Simpsons crossed with a Shih-Tzu when I tried it. I’d practiced in the mirror for days after Fifty Shades of Grey had made the big time.