Fulfillment (Book 3 in The Temptation Series) (8 page)

“No, that’s
not necessary. Alexis is here with me though, and just to let you
know Arthur, you’re on speaker.”

“Oh. Hello,
Ms. Summers. Sorry to interrupt your lunch. I won’t hold Bryce up
for much longer.”

My face was
flushed, and my lips were pursed. Bryce had a vice grip on my hips,
knowing I’d try and leave.

“Hello,
Arthur,” I said through gritted teeth. “There’s no rush. Bryce is
the only one eating, and anyway, he is finished now.” I raised my
eyebrow which was the most stupid thing I could’ve done, because
almost instantly Bryce thrust his fingers into me with such force I
gasped. I quickly covered my mouth and glared at him while my body
thoroughly enjoyed his finger-fuck.

Bryce
continued on the conversation, mischievously smiling and placing
kisses down my thighs while continuing to pull his fingers in and
out of me. “So, Arthur, how is Geraldine now? On the mend?”

I mouthed the
words ‘I hate you’. He shook his head and mouthed the reply, ‘no
you don’t.’
Grrr, No, I don’t
.

“She is much
better, thanks. I have booked a holiday like you suggested...,”
Arthur stated. Bryce pushed up from his chair and dragged me toward
him. He spun me around and gently pushed me forward so that I was
leaning over the table.
Oh. Shit. Crap. Balls
.

“We will be
going to Tasmania in three weeks,” Arthur continued
enthusiastically. “Ms. Summers, have you ever been there?”
Santa, I’m slightly busy right now.

“Yes, I have.
It’s beautiful. Have you been there?”
Fuck, Alexis don’t ask him
questions.
Bryce very quietly unzipped his pants and I felt the
unmistakable warmth of his crown push into my now overly wet pussy.
Fuck! I’m not a quiet fucker. I moan, and scream, and pant, and
howl. Fuck!

“Yes,” Arthur
answered. “A few times, but most of those were for business.”

“So how long
are you going for, Arthur?” continued Bryce, as he slowly began to
push into me. I dropped my head to the desk and placed my arm in my
mouth probably resembling a freakin’ dog biting a bone.

Bryce leaned
forward, removed my arm from my mouth and pinned both arms to the
table as he increased his pace.
I hate him...but I love
him...Holy shit!

“We are hiring
a motorhome and driving around for two weeks. I’m really looking
forward to the wineries and dairy farms. Do you suggest we go
anywhere in particular, Ms. Summers?”

Please
Santa, Shut up!
“Strahan,” I mumbled, between subdued
pants.

“What? Sorry I
didn’t hear that,” Arthur stated.

Bryce let out
a chuckle, and I swear I could’ve killed him.

“Strahan,
Arthur. Make sure you go to Strahan and take the Gordon River
Cruise,” I blurted out as quickly as I could.
Seriously, Santa.
Fuck off and go and deliver some presents.

“Yes, I’ve
heard that is a must do. Thank you. Anyway, back to my original
reason for calling, I’ll sign off on the Marquee’s specifics and
send you a list of VIP attendants. Are you going to come this year,
Bryce?”

He was
pounding into me now, and the sheer will power I was desperately
clinging onto in order to pacify any sound escaping my mouth was
quickly leaving my grasp.

“I don’t know,
Arthur. Alexis, do you like the Grand Prix?”

I dropped my
head.
You’ll pay for this Mr. Fucker Clark
. He slammed into
me and I couldn’t help but let out a high-pitched “Yes.”

“Have you been
before?” Bryce asked, with a satisfied grunt, knowing full well
that I had. He slammed into me again.

“Yes.”

“Do you want
to come?”
Oh, you fucking know I want to come.

“Yes,” I
practically screamed, losing it and tipping over the edge, my
orgasm rippling through me as I shuddered on top of the conference
table.

Bryce
followed, tightening his grip on my hands as he found his release.
“Yes, Arthur. We’re coming,” he said trying to sound normal and
less breathy than he actually was. “I’ll let you know my final
numbers later today.”

“Certainly,
I’ll wait to hear from you. Now, please continue your lunch. Good
day.” Arthur hung up.

I was still
slumped over the conference table. “Bryce Edward Clark. I fucking
hate you,” I declared, breathlessly.

He leaned
forward and kissed my cheek. “No you don’t. You fucking love
me.”

I cracked up
laughing. “Yes, I do.”

CHAPTER SIX

I pretty much smiled for the rest
of the day as memories of Bryce’s and my lunch date floated in and
out of my head.
God, I hope Santa didn’t hear my arse being
ball-slapped by Bryce. I will definitely be on the naughty list if
he did.
I giggled to myself. The things Bryce had me do were
just so wrong, yet so God damn right.

Danny had
collected the kids from school as Bryce and I were kept busy with
his back-to-back appointments for the rest of the day. Most of them
were related to the Grand Prix, including the appointment with
Chelsea. Her annoying helicopter piloting skills were once again
required for VIP transfers to and from the hotel. The fact she
barely made any effort to acknowledge me during her visit to the
penthouse office only heightened my dislike and unease for the
stuck-up bitch. I had never met anyone quite like her, she just
didn’t get it—Bryce was no longer interested in her. I wondered if
he had ever spoken to her about setting her straight, like he
promised he would. She needed to be set straight once and for all.
She needed to know that she had absolutely no chance with him—she
needed to be told up close and personal that he loved me and that
she was just a friend.

Regardless, I
was no longer worried where she was concerned; I wholeheartedly
trusted Bryce, and I had no doubts about his feelings for me
whatsoever. I just didn’t trust her—that would probably never
change—even if he had already set her straight. I realised that it
still bothered me that she was alone in his office with him,
because I kind of felt sick. But only because she was a
lips-licking, devious, sneaky mole, and I hated her.

***

After we both
managed to pry ourselves away from the office, Bryce had
reluctantly taken a walk with Nate to McDonald’s to pick up our
dinner. We had stupidly asked the kids to make the choice of what
to eat and, of course, they chose that. I had to laugh at his
efforts to not only eat the Mc Greasy Burgers he was not very fond
of, but to also place himself in the vicinity of the Ronald
McDonald statue he feared terribly. Maybe the curly redheaded clown
was growing on him.

Charli hadn’t
felt like going along with them as she had been a little glum since
finding out we were going to the farm on the weekend for Easter,
and unfortunately because of that, she would have to wait to see
her dad. I had told her that she would see him on the Easter
Monday, but this being the first time we would be separated on a
celebratory day had obviously really upset her.

I wanted to
cheer her up, so I scrolled through my iPod and put on one of our
favourite Glee songs, turning it up as loud as I could.

Rachel’s
version of “Don’t Rain On My Parade” began to play, and Charli’s
eyes widened as a broad smile crept across her face. Grabbing her
hand, I started to sing the first line in the song, emphasising she
not ‘sit and putter’. This made her giggle, so I pulled her up to
dance around the room with me.

She performed
a pirouette on the spot and flung her arms out in an
over-exaggerated move which made me laugh. My daughter had just as
much of a love for music as I did, so I knew that getting her to
parade around the living area with me, would surely lift her gloomy
spirits. She happily followed me like a shadow, copying my moves
and singing along to the Broadway musical song.

There was a
part in the song that I knew was coming and it referred to a hat,
so I quickly skipped to the beat of the music and grabbed my sun
hat which was hanging on the hook near the entryway wall. As I sang
the words ‘Hat, Sir,’ I placed it on her head and curtsied to her.
Smiling, she returned my curtsy with one of her own and gracefully
nodded her head.

I took off
again but stopped abruptly after only a few steps which made her
bump into my back. She looked a little stunned but realised I had
done it on purpose so that I could tap my finger on the tip of her
nose while singing ‘or freckle on the nose’. She responded to my
nose tap by performing a cute little wrinkle and wipe of her own,
then ran around me and stepped up onto the sofa with her arms flung
out, mimicking a plane. I knew only too well what she had planned
because this was not the first time we had danced and performed to
this song. So, when she fell forward, I caught her and spun us both
around in a dizzying circle. Pausing for the smallest of seconds,
we gathered our bearings from my over-exuberant twirling.

While my head
deciphered which way was what, I figured I’d remain in character,
acting as if I was in the middle of a Broadway drama by draping my
arm across my forehead, over-exaggerating my exhausted state.
Charli laughed then joined in on the act and pretended to pat down
my head and fan her hands at me.

Keeping with
the dramatized theme, I sprung up unexpectedly and danced to the
kitchen, grabbing an apple as the song mentioned ‘life was juicy’
and having to have a bite. I pretended to take a bite of the apple,
but screwed my nose up at it and tossed to her. She completely
missed the catch and the apple hit the floor and rolled away. Her
smile faded to a look of shock and then ‘Ooops’.
She is just so
adorably cute.

I danced up to
her, grabbed her hand and winked, then led her back into the living
area as I knew our favourite part was coming. I snuck a glance at
her getting ready for the move, and her excited face warmed my
heart. We both stopped dancing simultaneously and pointed our
fingers to each other like guns, shouting ‘BAM!’ As always, I let
her imaginary bullet get me by faking a clutching of my chest and
stumbling for a bit.

After a quick
recovery and a few more spinning leaps, the song was about to come
to an end where Rachel held the word ‘Parade’ for a long time. We
both belted it out, raising our hands to our invisible audience and
giving each other smiling glances to see who was going to run out
of breath first. I noticed her suck in another breath while keeping
her mouth open, pretending she hadn’t done just that. I couldn’t
help but laugh while still holding the note, so I pointed at her
accusingly making her giggle.

When the song
finished, we dropped our hands and flopped back onto the sofa
laughing and taking deep breaths.

“Feel a bit
better, Sweetheart?” I panted.

“Yep, thanks
Mum.” Her smile was genuine so I pulled her close for a hug.

Suddenly, we
heard clapping from behind us and spun around to see Bryce and Nate
standing at the elevator door, McDonald’s bags tucked under their
arms. Nate was shaking his head and rolling his eyes while smiling
and gently clapping—this performance was not a first for him to
have witnessed.

Bryce, on the
other hand, was clapping loudly with the biggest smile on his face.
“Wow! I’ve just found the two newest members of our band.” He
walked over and kissed my head from behind the sofa.

“Really? Can I
really be in your band?” asked Charli, excitedly.

“Sure.”

“Oh. My. God!
I’m so gonna go and practice now. Mum can I borrow your iPod?” She
was bordering on hysterical excitement.

My eyes
widened at her enthusiasm, so I grabbed her hands—holding them
still from flapping about. “Yes, but you ‘so’ need to eat
first.”

***

We sat
together on the balcony eating our burgers and fries. The kids and
Bryce cringed when I dunked my fries into the chocolate sundae—the
sundae I had subtly threatened he not return home without.
What?
There is absolutely nothing wrong with potato deep-fried in oil,
sprinkled with salt and covered with vanilla flavoured soft serve
ice cream and hot chocolate sauce. I’m not seeing the problem
here.

I popped
another into my mouth and hummed.

Bryce
smirked.

Nate rolled
his eyes.

And Charli
scoffed her Happy Meal down like a hungry little piggy, then
grabbed my iPod and ran upstairs—she was bound to get
indigestion.

For the next
hour, all Bryce, Nate, and I could hear as we sat on the living
room sofa trying to watch TV, was Charli’s voice intermittently
coming in over the top of Rachel’s as she practiced singing more
Glee songs in her room.

Nate’s body
language suggested a high level of irritation as he endured it,
occasionally screwing up his face while looking over his shoulder
at his sister’s bedroom door. “Urgh,” he grumbled. “Now look what
you’ve done.”

Bryce and I
laughed. “Leave her alone, Nate. She’s learning to sing,” I said,
willing his compassion to surface.

“She needs to
learn faster.”

He huffed and
walked into the man-cave, I’m guessing he went for the sanctuary of
sound-proofed walls.
Okay, maybe there is no compassion for his
little sister’s singing abilities.

Turning to
Bryce, who was comfortably seated next to me, gently trailing his
fingers along my legs which he’d laid across his lap, I posed him a
question. “You do realise you are going to have to let her sing a
song with your band now? She will not forget your promise.”

“I know. I
have every intention of letting her sing a song at one of our gigs.
In fact, we have one coming up in a few months. She can do it
then.”

I laughed.
“You’re crazy. You might want to run it past the other members of
Live Trepidation first.”