Bookish (18 page)

“No, I just got a text from work, I have to get in early, cover somebody’s shift.”

Chloe worked at American Apparel. She loved being able to pick up the guys who shopped there.

“Okay, maybe next time,” I said and hugged her before she left.

I went downstairs to have my usual toast and tea with Auntie Abby. She was chattering away about the other jewellery she might have cleaned, but she needed to get it from the safe deposit box at her bank. I hadn’t even known she had a safe deposit box, let alone one full of jewellery.

Sometimes lately I felt as though I had been living the last half of my life in a fog, and it wasn’t until I met Isaac that things really started to clear up for me.

I decided to kill some time before picking him up from the airport, so I had a nap. When I laid down, I reached into my pocket for my phone and was alarmed to find it missing.

I searched all around the blankets and found it tucked just under the side of the bed, it must have fallen off when I climbed in for my nap.

I curled up under the covers and read the texts from Isaac that I’d missed. I replied to let him know I’d see him soon, and fell asleep thinking of his lips on my body.

I had fabulous dreams.

Chapter Twenty One

“Oh my god, is that Isaac James?” a girl whispered from behind me. I was in the Arrivals section at SeaTac airport. I smiled to myself when I saw him walking down the long hall behind the glass, his thick legs carrying him with a sexy swagger.

Yes, that was Isaac James and he was coming home to me.

“Love!” he exclaimed when he saw me, “God how I’ve missed you!” He swept me up in his arms and twirled me around, my legs out behind me. I’d never been a fan of leaving the earth, as clumsy as I was, but in his arms I felt safe and wonderful, like I was flying.

“Holy shit, that must be his girlfriend,” one of the girls said as we walked past. I flashed her a smug little grin, I couldn’t help it, and had to laugh when she gasped and said, “I would
die
if I was her!”

We made it to the car before he was all over me, touching me and kissing me until I was breathless. I dropped my keys and he backed me against the driver’s door, pressing against me.

“Fuck I’ve missed this,” he whispered against my ear, and nibbled my neck until I was shivering and ready to get naked right then and there.

“It’s them,” I heard somebody say behind us, “from arrivals. Why is Isaac James driving such a shitty car?”

I assumed it was one of the girls from the terminal. My first thought was damn it, I hated getting caught making out in public. My second thought was, come on, the car wasn’t that bad, was it?

Okay, yeah, it was a pretty shitty car.

I pushed at him and said, “We should get going before people assume your career is on the rocks, I think this car is bad for your image.”

He laughed and leaned back in for a kiss. His tongue swirled around mine and my brain started to exit my body again. He pulled back and said, “David will love your thinking, he’s always on about my image.”

“I’m just watching out for you,” I said and looked around, “now could we find my keys and get somewhere private? I’ve cleared your schedule for the evening, Mr. James, so we can spend some time together.”

“Oh Ms. Britton,” he said and bent down for my keys, he handed them to me and I admired his gorgeous body as he moved. “You are a naughty minx, aren’t you? You know what happens to you when you’re naughty around me,” he added and grabbed me in a tight hug, tickling me and nipping at my neck.

I squealed and giggled and struggled to free myself.

Well, I didn’t struggle that hard to be honest. I swear I would have let him take me in the parking garage, in front of anyone who happened to be departing or arriving that day, they would have seen me coming.

Stupid pun, I know, but that’s how crazy Isaac James made me.

“I need to get you home and fuck you,” he said with a growl, “let’s go before we get arrested for public indecency. Now
that
would be bad for my image.”

We made it back to his place in record time. He navigated the traffic like he was in one of his low, sleek sports cars instead of my rusty old hatchback.

We parked in the visitor space, he grabbed his carry on bag, and we rushed to the elevator like two thieves in the night. The urgency I felt was insane, the control he had over my, whether conscious or not, was almost frightening…if it hadn’t been so liberating and delicious.

We kissed our way up the elevator and I couldn’t help but think of Fifty Shades. I’d always pined over the love story in that book, and always assumed it was beyond my reach.

And yet here I was, living it out in real life. It was happening to me.

Inside the apartment I surprised him by losing my inhibitions and stripping him at the doorway.

“I have something for you,” he said and reached for his bag.

I kicked it to the side and said, “You certainly do, Mr. James,” and grabbed his hard cock, gave it a squeeze and bit my lower lip.

Part of me wondered who I was anymore, where had this girl come from.

But most of me told that part to shut the hell up, I was in love and I was on fire.

“What’s gotten into you, Ms. Britton,” he asked with a grin. He started to unbutton my shirt, got half way and tore it open. Buttons flew off everywhere.

“I know what I want in me,” I said and giggled at my lame joke. He smiled though and I dropped to my knees in front of him, as if in worship. I looked up at him, aware of how sharply angled and sexy my face looked from this view. I added, “I want it in me any way I can get it.”

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and guided my face to his pants, I unzipped them and tugged at his underwear. They came down and his amazing cock sprung out, already glistening with the evidence of his arousal.

I teased him and taunted him with my tongue, worked it around the head until he groaned and wrapped his fingers tighter in my hair.

“Ms. Britton, Aubrey,” he said, “you are a delightful little tart, did you know that? If you keep that up, I’m not going to last much longer.”

I simply looked up at him, smiled the best I could with his dick in my mouth, and took him in as far as I could. I fought the gag reflex and took immense pride in the intense look on his face. I was the only thing in the world for him at that moment, I was his earth and sky and stars and mountains…as he was for me.

As I sucked him harder, I knew this love went deeper than anything I’d read about or anything I’d seen between my friends and their lovers.

This was real, almost too real to be contained inside of me. As I heard him pant my name and pin my head with his hands so he could fuck my face, I felt as though my heart would surely burst.

I was waxing poetic, more poetic than I thought my secretive, protective self could ever manage, but there I was on the end of his cock feeling my love rise up like the tide against the shore.

He tensed and I knew he was going to come, I wanted to drink him in, to taste him and show him how much I wanted every part of him. My love knew no bounds, and if he wanted to come in my mouth, I would take it and love it as much as everything else about him.

He exhaled and said, “Fuck, love, that mouth…” and he came. I felt him fill the back of my throat, I looked up at his face and swallowed, eager to bring him the joy he’d given me.

He grunted and thrust one last time and relaxed, his entire body softened and he looked down at me and smiled. He loosened my hair and stroked my cheek with one hand.

“I love you,” he said and cupped my cheek in his hand, “I love you so much, I can’t imagine my life before you, and I can’t imagine a life without you in it.”

I pulled back, swallowed the last of him and he helped me stand. He wrapped his arms around me and he held me. I was almost shaking over the intensity of such a small thing, but to me it had been everything.

“I don’t know how I lived without you,” I told him, admitting it for the first time out loud, “I think back on it and I feel like I was living underwater, barely existing before I knew your love. How did this happen?”

He tilted my face to hiss and kissed me, pulled away and whispered, “Because we’re meant to be together, it’s as simple as that, love.”

“We really are,” I replied, “I love you too.”

He moved to pull his pants up and almost fell over his carry on bag. “That reminds me, my gift,” he said and flipped it over, unzipped it and produced something in a small, brightly coloured box with the prettiest bow tied on top.

“What is it?” I asked, it was too big for a ring and let’s face it, as much love as we felt, it really was too early for that.

“Open it,” he said and stood beside me, zipping himself up. “I can’t wait to see what you think.”

I pulled the box off and inside was a beautiful little silver Eiffel Tower figurine encrusted with what appeared to be diamonds. I took it out and looked at it, then looked at him, confused. “It’s gorgeous, but I thought you went to New York.”

“We’re going to Paris,” he said, unable to contain his excitement, “I’m taking you to Paris, love.”

“When?” I asked, almost unable to comprehend what was happening.

“In two days,” he said, “I’ve already spoken to Marta, she’s covering your shifts. Auntie Abby said she’d be fine seeing how I basically have stolen you away already, according to her.”

“Oh my god,” I said breathlessly, “I’m going to Paris!”

“Yes, love, Ms. Britton, you are. We are.”

I kissed him, standing on my tippy toes to reach his gorgeous mouth. His five o’clock stubble rubbed my sensitive skin and I clung to the box with my gift like it was an anchor keeping me from floating away on a cloud of excitement.

I’d always wanted to go to Paris, my father had proposed to my mother in front of Notre Dame, and they’d spent a lot of time there. I even had some old photographs of me on the Pont Neuf over the Seine, holding my mom and dad’s hands, my pouty little face about to crinkle into a fit over some long forgotten slight.

To actually go to the city known for love, where my parents had fallen in love, with the great love of my life.

It was a dream come true. I’d even had a passport for the last couple years just in case I ever had a chance. I never thought it would happen though.

If only I’d known how a few days could turn your world upside down, I might have stayed behind.

But I didn’t, so I packed and we were away, to the city of lights, love and hopefully happiness.

Chapter Twenty Two

“Did I mention we’ll be meeting my sister?” Isaac said and reached for the tiny bottle of water on the table in front of us. We were somewhere over the Atlantic, and it was sometime past midnight as best I could tell. Seattle time, I didn’t know what time zone we were in.

“What?” I gulped, nearly choking on my own drink, “you never told me that.”

“I didn’t want to scare you,” he said and looked apologetic. “She’s the nicest of the bunch, the least judgemental. She’s a performance artist, she gets paid to stand around in rooms full of people doing bird calls or something.”

I laughed, snorted really, and looked around to make sure nobody heard me. “Birdcalls? You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not,” he said and smiled, “in fact she’s the first one in the family who’s been featured in British Vogue. We’re all very proud of her, strange job and all.”

“Does she know about us?”

“The entire family does by now, yes.”

“Seriously? They all know who I am? That freaks me out somehow.”

“Why?”

“They seem very…judgey.”

“But you’ve never met them, how could you tell?”

“It’s a hunch,” I replied, “and from the things I’ve read.”

“You can’t believe what you read in the papers, Ms. Britton,” he said, “you of all people should know that by now.”

“Well, have they said anything about us being together?

“They’re concerned I suppose.”

“About what?” I asked, a little offended.

“As they are with any new girlfriend I have, that she might be interested in my money.”

“Do I ever give you that impression?” I asked, “Because if I did, it’s the wrong one. I don’t want your money, Mr. James. I won’t lie, I enjoy the benefits of being with you, but only one percent of me feels that way. The rest of me is using you for your…magnificent male appendage.”

He threw his head back and laughed, I loved making him laugh.

“Is that straight out of one of your romance novels, love?”

“It could be, and if it isn’t, then it really should be.”

He kissed my cheek and laughed again, then grew serious. “You really shouldn’t worry about what they think. The moment they meet you, they’ll love you, I’m certain of it. My sister is like dipping your toe into the water to test it out, she’ll tell them all how amazingly lovely you are, and they’ll be much more receptive.”

“Have they met any other girlfriend?”

“No, they haven’t.”

“Not even one of the many super models you’ve dated?”

“Definitely not them,” he said, “and you have to remember, dating is much different than what we have. We’re in a relationship, I’m part of your life and you of mine. Anything I’ve had before has been more of a dalliance of sorts. A means to alleviate boredom.”

“You’ve been with so many perfect women though,” I said, admitting that little insecurity that resided deep inside of me, “it must be so different, being with me after being with them.”

“Can I tell you something?” he asked.

“Of course,” I replied.

He moved his hand to my lap, went under my shirt and caressed my stomach, my waist, the curve of my breasts from underneath, through my bra. “This is perfection to me. I love your curves and softness, I love that you feel like a real woman.”

“A super model doesn’t feel like a real woman? That’s rather sexist,” I said, but secretly felt very pleased with his response.

“Of course they’re a real woman, but to any man who wants to be with them. I want this,” he said and closed his hand around my waist, “having sex with a super model is a little like having sex with a bicycle.”