Bookish (15 page)

“I wonder what could be keeping you from that?” he asked with a sly look, he cupped his hands under my ass, pulled me up and held me while he kissed me again. We made out like that, like hungry, horny teenagers until we heard somebody clear their throat behind us.

I jumped down, turned around and saw Chloe glaring at us with a deep, almost angry look of envy on her face.

“Hey, guess who made it?” I said brightly.

“I see that,” she replied and in an instant her face changed, she wore a mask of cool detachment. “Hi Isaac, how are you?”

“I’m good,” he said and stood behind me, wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled my neck, “check that…now I’m great. How are things with you?”

“Fantastic,” she purred and almost seemed to hum with sensuality. She was really putting on a show. “Would you be a dear though, and help me with something?” she asked him.

“Chloe,” I said, “we’ve got to get going. We have reservations.”

“It’s all right, love,” Isaac said. “What is it?”

Chloe shot me a look of pure, smug triumph. “It’s this darn zipper of mine,” she said, “I’ve asked Aubrey, but she can’t get it done up.”

She spun around and wiggled, indicating the zipper on the back of her dress, of course she hadn’t asked me. I felt a little pang of anger rise up, but pushed it back down when I realized Isaac was looking at me. His eyebrows were raised and he appeared visibly uncomfortable. He was checking me for guidance.

“Here,” I said, “let me give it another try.” I stepped behind her and had it up in one fell swoop. “That was easy, I don’t know why I couldn’t manage it the first time.”

She turned around, glared at me, but lit her face up with a wide smile and said to Isaac, “I guess you give women superpowers. I wish we could bottle it up and sell it.”

“We really should get going,” he said and looked over her shoulder, “Is G in?”

“Yes, and she would kill you if you didn’t say hello before we left.”

He went to the kitchen and left me alone with Chloe. I don’t know what had changed, but something had changed. Her movements were jerky and deliberate as she dragged her jacket on and grabbed her backpack, swung it over her shoulder and made to leave.

“Listen,” she said just as she reached the front door, “I know I might come off as a bit of a bitch these days. I’m just worried about you, I don’t want your heart to get trampled on. I’ve never dated anyone as famous as Isaac, but I know what it’s like to have a lot of people paying attention to you, and it can go bad, real fast.”

“I know,” I said and felt stupid for being so suspicious of her. “I’m okay though, Isaac is good to me and I really care for him. That’s all you need to worry about.”

“I also really miss you,” she said, “I miss how much time we used to spend together. You kinda became one of
those
girls, you know?”

I felt a little stab of guilt. I really had. The kind of girl who ditched all her friends the moment she got a boyfriend, only in this case I really only had Chloe as a friend. “I’m sorry,” I said, “I miss you too. Maybe we can go on a double date next week, or the week after. I’d love to meet your guy.”

“That would be awesome,” she replied, smiled and we hugged, a brief squeeze, but it felt like things were right between us again.

“I’ll get you set up as an admin on the blog this week,” I told her, “I promise.”

“I won’t let you down,” she said and shut the door behind her.

I stood for a moment and thought about the years I’d known her. Had I really  become one of those women? The ones who swept all their friends out of the way to get the guy?

I hoped I wasn’t, and I hoped everything would go back to normal with Chloe.

If only I’d know how wrong I’d been, and how bad things would get with her. If only I could have seen into the future and known how badly she would ruin my life and my relationship I might have had a fighting chance.

But I couldn’t, and I didn’t, and it wasn’t until it was too late that I understood the depths of her bitter envy and how far she would let it take her.

Chapter Eighteen

Life had become a bit of a routine, a whirlwind of photographers and expensive dinners interspersed with the mundane. The mundane being the times I was alone, at Auntie Abby’s or my job. Other than that it was time spent with Isaac in this bright and shiny bubble of excitement.

I knew it couldn’t last.

It was achingly exquisite while it did though. I’d never been one to wax poetic about aspects of my life, but Isaac brought it out in me.

At the moment, we were heading to my work for his book signing, after that we were off to some fancy dinner with his college friend and his fiancé. I’d met them before and nearly peed myself, feeling a little like one of the Clampett clan every time one of them spoke in their crisp accents.

Sometimes when I was around the Brits, I swear my voice took on a southern twang almost by will of its own.

God, everybody was so elegant in his world, I still didn’t quite understand where I fit in.

When we were alone together it was perfect, when we were dipping our toes in the dull end of things in my world, it was good.

In his world? Not so much.

“I wonder if anybody will show up,” he said as the driver pulled around the corner, “hopefully it won’t just be Chloe trying to talk me into signing her chest again.” He grinned and pantomimed a gagging face.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I don’t think Marta got much advertising done. I was supposed to share on social media, but I’ve been otherwise engaged.” I gave him my Austin Powers sexy stare and he laughed.

I loved it when I made him laugh. I think that’s where I fit in. I mean the sex of course, but let’s face it, he could basically fuck almost any woman he wanted. But he was at ease around me, he laughed more and his face was relaxed. I noticed when we were out or in the public eye, his face was more tense and he seemed tightly wound, like a tiger about to spring forth.

I teased him about his Blue Steel model face all the time, and he punished me by spanking me until I could hardly breath from the excitement of it.

Me, Ms. Britton, loved to be spanked.

Who woulda thunk it?

“Shit,” Isaac exclaimed as we pulled up to the store, “I’m glad I brought those guys.” He nodded behind us to the SUV his bodyguards occupied.

“What’s going on?” I asked and struggled against my tight, calf length skirt to sit up. I finally made it and gasped. “Holy fuck balls,” I whispered, “I don’t think Marta had any idea…”

“Did you just swear, Ms. Britton?” Isaac said, his voice oozing that seductive quality that got me so crazy wet, “I might have to punish your naughty mouth when we get home.”

I whipped my head around and stared at him. “Home?” I asked, “did you just say home?”

He looked slightly flustered, but said, “Yes, I meant home. My home. Our home.”

“I guess I have been spending enough time there I might was well go on the lease,” I replied and grinned. He looked a little uncomfortable and I laughed, “Kidding, but I am flattered that you would say home. It feels like home when I’m with you.”

“Exactly,” he said and pulled me onto his lap. My legs splayed ungracefully and he kissed me. We were deep in it and didn’t notice the driver stopping or getting out or opening the door.

Suddenly about a billion cameras flashed on us and I almost fell on the floor in the back of the Town Car. I squeaked, embarrassed to have been caught making out with him, but even more embarrassed that I might have flashed the paparazzi my oh so sexy Hello Kitty panties.

“Back off,” he said and got out, stood and turned to help me before he hammed it up for the cameras. He was a natural in front of a lens, I, as you may have guessed by now, was not. I was just grateful that he took the time to care for me before he started his show.

The noise was deafening. His bodyguards pulled up in their SUV and hopped out, circled around us, drawing an invisible barrier to keep the crowd back. The women split like the Red Sea and we made our way into the store.

I glanced back and realized that the line went to the end of the block and wound out of sight.

This was going to be a long freaking night.

We got settled behind a short table Marta had set up near the back of the store and the body guards began to organize the line. Marta was buzzing back and forth like a patchouli scented humming bird, and my coworkers Sylvie, Adrienne and Lydia were rushing around the store looking for any book with Isaac on the front. It looked like we’d be sold out before half the line made it through. Never underestimate the power of perfect abs.

“Aubrey, love, would you text Ethan and Jane and tell them we’ll have to catch up another time?” Isaac asked me and fixed a smile on his face as the first women approached the table.

“Of course,” I said and took his phone when he handed it to me. He turned back to the women and I found Ethan’s number.

Sorry, too busy tonight to make it. Another time?
I wrote. It felt weird using his name to send his friend a message, even a quick one like that.

I was about to close his phone and hand it back when I noticed a familiar number. Chloe had texted him a couple hours ago, but he hadn’t replied. My stomach clenched with anger and confusion when I read,
Hey hot stuff, can’t wait to see you later. Also can’t wait to have a repeat of the book event. xoxox

I scrolled up and read three more texts from her number, none of them returned and each as insinuating as the first one I’d read.

No wonder Isaac didn’t like Chloe, she was making a fool of herself, coming after Isaac, my boyfriend. I appreciated what he had done, protecting me from her, but I wish he’d let me know about it before I’d given her administrator privileges to my blog and basically handed her the keys to my kingdom.

He took the phone and gave me a funny look, raised his eyebrow and turned back to the fans when I waved off his concern.

He could read my like an open book, we were very in tune which helped most of the time, but right then I was so pissed off I didn’t want it to effect his mood. So, I did my best as a good girlfriend and watched woman after woman giggle and try desperately to flirt with my boyfriend, all the while thinking about the bitch who was supposed to be my best friend.

Surely she’d have an explanation for it. I trusted Isaac, but suddenly I wasn’t so sure I could trust Chloe.

***

“Mr. James, Isaac, thank you so much,” Marta said at the end of the night. We’d gone until almost ten, until every last woman had gotten a chance to meet him and have something signed. He refused to do body parts this time, on account of me being right there although he swore he would draw that line if he was alone as well.

That made me feel…well, powerful. I felt smug and satisfied every time somebody told me how lucky I was, or how envious she was, or just shot me one of those looks that told me they’d do anything to be in my place.

I had even worn my contact lenses tonight, hating the way the camera flash reflected in my glasses lately. They made me look cross eyed and other worldly in the photos, and not other worldly as in ethereal, more like an alien.

“You sure earned your pay tonight,” I joked and took his hand as he stood.

He stretched, groaned, pulled my hand to his heart and said, “Yes, you do owe me.” He leaned to kiss me and whispered in my ear, “I can’t wait to get it later, Ms. Britton.”

I shivered and laughed, pulled away and said, “I hope you don’t mind if I stay away tomorrow, Marta. I’m exhausted.”

“Not a problem,” she replied, “take the day off. You earned it. I’ll even pay you, I think we made about a month of your salary in all the books we sold. When we ran out of Isaac’s books, they were even buying bookmarks or Kindle covers for him to sign. Thank you so much again…both of you.”

We left, sent the bodyguards on their way and had a late dinner at an intimate restaurant on the water, then made our way back to his place.

Just over two months ago had been the first time I was at his place. Now there were signs of me everywhere, a hairbrush on the bathroom counter, my favourite mug in his kitchen, a plush throw on the sofa, my underwear in a drawer in his dresser.

It really did feel like home.

The moment we got inside, he was on me like a starving man at a buffet. He backed me into the apartment and kicked the door closed, all the while kissing me passionately, his hands pushing up my skirt, seeking my hot center.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” I whispered against his hungry lips.

“Let’s fuck right here,” he said back, his voice a harsh growl, “it drove me mad all evening, with you right next to me, not being able to touch you. Hundreds of women parading in front of me, and not one of them holding a candle to you, Ms. Britton. All I could think about was getting you back here and getting under your skirt.”

He shoved my skirt higher until it was around my waist and my legs were free. I sighed against his chest and melted into his embrace. I pulled my legs up, he grabbed the thin material of my panties and tore them off me with one harsh tug. Thank god I had more than one pair now.

“Isaac,” I said and clung to him, trembling with need, “I want you inside me, I need it.”

“You need what, love?” he asked and bit my neck, sucked my flesh and rolled it in his teeth. I threw my head back and thrust myself against him. His hands held me tight.

I moved up again as he released my neck, backed towards the living room and spun me around in front of the window. I dropped from his arms and turned to face outside, the magnificent view of the landscape, the lights twinkling in the distance, the boats on the water, the cars down below.

“I need you to fuck me, I need you, Mr. James,” I said and pushed my ass against him. I felt his hardness press into me and he leaned over me, wrapped an arm around my waist and reached for his cock.

I pressed my hands against the window, a little dizzy at the sensation of being so high off the ground, and a little frightened that the glass could give way at any moment.