Filthy Gorgeous (22 page)

My penis is still in recovery mode.

So, what’s next?

I have no fucking clue.

Ella passed the induction test to be my Friday night girl with flying colors. If it still existed, I’d build the whole goddamn harem around her schedule. If I’m brutally honest with myself, I’m not sure if I want them back now that I’ve had a taste of her.

My Goddess emerges from the bathroom wearing a soft white robe. Her hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail. She’s chewing on her inner lip, like she’s worried.

I raise an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

She runs a finger along the doorframe, but she can’t look me in the eye. “Sure. Fine.”

Uh-oh.
My inner bullshit detector senses danger.

Fine?

Sure it is. When a woman says she’s ‘fine’ it really means you’re screwed—sadly, not in the literal sense of the word. I ask her to join me on the bed. She hesitates, then climbs on the bed beside me and snuggles her face against my chest.

“I’m sorry, I just feel a bit weird, you know? I was with Tyler for so long and you’re all new.”

Understandable.
My precious is in shock after finally discovering how great sex can be after a boning from yours truly, but this isn’t the right time for one-upmanship. I don’t want his name mentioned in this bed.
Ever.
I rest my chin on her head and stroke the small of her back.

“Tell me, what did you think of me when we first met?”

She chuckles softly. “You really want to know?”

I kiss her forehead. “Sure.”

“Well, I thought you were arrogant. Kind of infuriating and—”

“Devilishly handsome? Sophisticated?”

“I was going with annoying and—”

“Sexy? Confident? Smart?”

“Smart, definitely smart, also cunning and—”

“Ella, I’ve got to be number one on your list of bachelors now, right?”

She drums her fingers on my stomach and thinks. “I don’t know, Alex. Damian Littlejohn was also very charming ...”

I open my mouth in mock surprise. “Oh, come on!”

I prop myself up on my elbows. “Wait … you’re trying to blackmail me so that I’ll engage God mode again, aren’t you?”

She bites her lip and smiles. It’s beautiful. “You’re insatiable, Slade. I don’t think I could take any more of your tongue. Okay, you’re number one. Happy now?”

I twirl a wisp of her hair around my finger. “I don’t know. Maybe. Tell me why I’m number one. I mean, I already know, but it’s always good to hear it from somebody else.”

She rolls her eyes. “I guess because, in a roundabout way, you saved me from my future. You’re alright, Alex.”

I put my hand over my heart. “Alright? Christ, Ella. I’d fake blindness to touch you inappropriately, and you tell me I’m just alright?”

Talk about ego bruiser.

She hooks a long, silky leg around my waist. I rub my hand along her thigh and squeeze her bare ass cheek.
Just lovely
.

“You’re … I don’t know. I can’t make up my mind. I mean, when I saw you for the first time in your office, I thought to myself, he’s cute. Charming, too. And then you were a real jerk.”

I lean in and kiss her. It’s a slow, deep, lingering kiss—one that she won’t forget anytime soon. Snaking my free hand inside her gown, I grope around for that warm, familiar flesh and gently knead her left breast. I’m about to dive in and suckle on her perky peak, when she grabs my hand.

I brush my nose against hers. “I’m not a jerk, Ella. I must be doing something right to have built a harem of eight women.”

Her smile dims to apathy. “Seriously?”

I see where she’s going with this. She wants reassurance that not all guys are like Jockass. That would be a lie. If I enlighten her to the dark reality of the male mind then I’ll never taste that beautiful pussy again.

Sighing, I roll onto my back. I wish those frigging rubbers would hurry the fuck up so we can get back to business.

“You may not agree with the harem, but know that it’s a respectful arrangement. I’ve always been honest with the Sladies,” I pull her in closer. “Things are different for guys. Tyler was an asshole; a real shit. But you can be an awesome girlfriend—a dream girl even—and the only reason a guy inevitably tires of you is because you don't have the ability to morph into a different woman every night.”

I don’t expect her to understand. I’m being honest when I tell her, “I don’t want to be that guy. That’s why I prefer to keep things simple. Uncomplicated.” 

She’s silent for a few minutes. I can tell she’s trying to process what I’ve just said. Finally, she asks, “When was the last time you dated a girl exclusively?”

Good question.

“When I was in my early twenties.”

“And how long did it last?”

I give a low whistle. “Two weeks.”

“Two whole weeks,” she says sarcastically. “I’ll get my colleagues to add a health warning disclaimer to the article. I don’t want some unsuspecting female winding up in therapy. What happened to break off such a long term romance?”

Spring Break in Miami happened. I smile to myself and recall a week of sunshine and endless vodka-fuelled wet T-shirt competitions.

Need I say more?

But I’m not going to tell her that. “Forget it. Let’s just say that it’s better I remain a bachelor. Life is too difficult otherwise.”

“Why?” she probes further. Christ, I feel like I’m on trial.

I wrap my arms around her warm body and squeeze tightly. “Let’s just say I have a tendency to attract the crazies. They look at my status—the money, the car, the charm—and within a week they’ve turned into some kind of baby-crazed ring hunter, harboring all kinds of fucked up expectations that I can’t live up to.”

I feel her smile against my chest. “So, you’re saying that women take your physical appearance and outward status, and project the image of their ideal man onto you. Then they expect you to fulfil their impossibly high expectations? Like Mr. Darcy?”

I never thought of it like that before. “Yeah. Kinda. Maybe.”

“I think I understand. So, behind that impervious, God-like façade, you’re just as vulnerable as the rest of us?”

Huh?

She continues. “It’s a revelation, Alex. It means you’re human, after all.”

I chuckle. “You really think so? That’s no good.”

I roll her onto her back and untie her robe. “Must … re-engage … God mode …”

She laughs and guides my hand away. “No, I think I like you as a human. I expect the Sladies do, too.”

I press my finger against her lips. “You’re right. But I’ve put them out to pasture. The harem is no more, Ella.” 

She gives my shoulder a playful jab, but her eyes still question me. “Really? Why?”

I let out an exaggerated sigh. I’m not going to tell her about my father’s ultimatum, or the fact that no girl has managed to make my dick stand to attention like she has since she walked in to my office. That would be too dramatic, don’t you think?

So I keep it short, sweet, and truthful

“One just wed another guy. One wanted to marry me. One wanted to castrate me. Need I go on?”

She pulls away from me and her face is full of surprise. “Sounds exhausting. Anyway, I guess I’m kind of glad.”

“Oh yeah?”

She nuzzles her head against my chest again. “Yeah, because we wouldn’t be here now. And honestly, you’re a great distraction from that asshole.”

See, what did I tell you?

I fucked him out of her already. She can’t even bring herself to say his name. I weave my fingers through hers and plant a soft kiss on the back of her hand.

“Tell me, what was Carrie talking about earlier this evening? She mentioned something about the museum?”

She plumps up her pillow and turns away from me. I swear I saw her grin before she turned on her side. “Oh, nothing.”

Nothing?

Bullshit. ‘Nothing’ is girl-speak for ‘something.’

“Tell me,” I tickle her stomach until she turns back to face me.

“She just thought I had a thing for you, that’s all.”

I knew it.

I saw the lust dancing in her eyes the morning we first met. I skim two fingers over my chest. “It was the torso, wasn’t it?”

She chuckles and kisses my bare arm. “You wish. Like I said, I thought you were cute, but I meet a lot of cute guys. And they’re normally assholes. The way you looked at me was just so intense. It was like you were devouring me. I felt naked. And when you guessed my bra size, I thought—wow—here’s a guy who knows what he’s doing. I wanted to slap you, too, but after being neglected by Tyler for so long it felt nice to feel so desired. And also confusing.”

Desired? Is she kidding me? I don’t think there’s a guy in Manhattan who would kick Ella Bryant out of bed.

Unless it was to fuck her on the floor.

“Confusing?”

She runs her fingers over my chest. “I was with Tyler for so long. In my gut, I knew things were wrong, but I ignored the signs. I should have ended it a long, long time ago. I don’t even want to think about how many girls he screwed behind my back. But I just can’t get something out of my head.”

I gently squeeze her arm. “Carry on …”

“I keep asking myself, why did he ask me to marry him? I just can’t get my head around it.”

Okay, you’re not going to like the answer to this, but hear me out. Ladies, it’s simple. He cheated because he could. He’s a dog, and it was easy for him because she ignored it. Sure, he might change, right?
Riiiight
. Or maybe she could go lay down in the middle of the nearest interstate and let him repeatedly drive over what’s left of her heart.

Does that sound like fun? No, I don’t think so, either.

I kiss her forehead and stroke that luminous blonde hair. “Ella, I’m no cactus expert, but I know a prick when I see one. The guy’s a jerk. No analysis needed. No need to feel guilty about defacing his posters. No need to feel bad about the moving on.”

She rolls on top of me and smiles. Our lips find each other and I run my hand under her robe and squeeze that ass. God, I can’t get enough of her. I’m helpless. Out of control. Like a lemming jumping off a cliff.

Dah-dih-dit. Dah-dih-dih-dit.

Can you guess who that is?

Sounds like my back up has arrived.

***

I love luxury hotels. You have a whole platoon of willing staff at your beck and call, 24/7. Need more towels? Press two. Ran out of ice? Press three. Rubbers? Call the butler. Not only did Theo save my dick from sudden-death, he anticipated that we might need some late-night sustenance, so he went that extra mile by securing us a tray of erotic treats. We have chocolate-dipped strawberries, oysters, and champagne.

Ella loves strawberries. They’re her favorite fruit. We’re eating them right now. Correction; I’m eating them right now. Straight off of her glorious tits. I slide my tongue over the curve of her ladybumps and savor the juicy sweetness.

De-fucking-licious.

My lips blaze a trail of chocolate across her ass cheek. She giggles and pushes herself onto all fours. She’s completely naked and it’s driving me fucking crazy. I swipe another chocolate-dipped strawberry from the trolley and smear the gooey sweetness over her clitoris.

I swear to God, I’ll get through this bowl within the next hour if it kills me.

***

Playing Mr. Rebound is fun. It’s a win-win situation. Let me explain.

Ella just came out of a long-term relationship. Like all women, she wants and needs emotional support, kindness, understanding, attention, affection blah blah blah; a whole IV of it and stat.

I’m the drug dealer. I’m hooking her up with a confidence boost. Dishing out the compliments. Telling her she’s beautiful. Unlike the Jenny Alderson episode, I’m not lying. I mean every fucking word. My altruism is paying off like a loose slot machine; I’m getting laid like Mick Jagger in a sorority house.

I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve screwed in the past twelve hours. Maybe seven? Maybe eight? Who knows?

We fell off the piano last time so we’ve finally hit the sack to get some rest. We’re spooning, naked. I’m the big spoon, by the way. It’s better this way. I got a free hand to fondle and I intend to use it. The morning light creeps through the drapes and I push my face into her mane of hair. She smells delicious. Fruity, sweet, and fresh, like wild berries. Christ, I could just eat her all over again.

Maybe I’ll do just that …

I trail my fingers along her bare arm and poke her back with my unfurling erection. She laughs and rolls over. “Seriously? Again?”

I wiggle my eyebrows. “Ella Bryant, I’d have you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” My voice softens as the final word escapes my lips.

Christ, did I really just say that out loud? Yep, I must have, because she’s gazing at me with twinkling eyes. Like I’m a hero, like I’m the most handsome and desirable guy in the world. She strokes my hair. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”