Stepping out of the hot shower, she walked into the large fluffy towel he held in his arms, and he cocooned her inside it like a child as she giggled.
He slowly began to rub circles on her back through the towel, heading lower down her spine, sending waves of heat through her body far more effectively than the high tech heating system that was installed beneath her feet. She moaned as he pulled the soft flannel against her sensitive skin.
“I’ve brought some jeans and that from the house for you? I’ve laid them out on the bed; go put them on while I have a quick shave.” Playfully, he smacked her behind.
“Where are we going? We’re not uh ...” her voice trailed off, eyebrows raised suggestively.
He chuckled and stepped closer, watching his fingertips run along the delicate skin at her arms, “I wish we could babe, I wish we could stay here forever, just me, you and the honeymoon suite. But the real world awaits; I’ve got a meeting at the bank.”
Her heart suddenly felt constricted at the thought of being left alone without him, and despite how naive and unworldly it made her feel, she turned to him with puppy dog eyes. “Can .. uh.. can I come?”
His shoulders drew back from where he stood at the vanity unit, with a razor in hand ready to trim down his perpetual five o clock shadow. He stiffened at her words, and carefully evaded her eyes, arranging his shaving gels and balms like a sorcerer with his potions. Clearing his throat discreetly, he cocked his head to the sound of her voice but he still never looked at her, “To the bank? There’s nothing of any interest in the bank for you Vittoria, I’ll just drop you home.” She walked around him to the vanity, to put her jewellery back on, as she thought of a way to avoid the crushing disappointment that was consuming her.
“I want to,” she detested the desperate whine of her voice, but she couldn’t help it. “Since you cleared my schedule for the day, it’s only fair that you live up to the underlying promise there, don’t you think?” Running her hands across the warm, solid planes of his muscular chest, she ran her nose along the column of his throat; inhaling the fresh tangy scent of his shaving foam along his jaw.
He pulled the blade against his skin steadily, curling himself away from her body. “Its business stuff, you won’t be interested, but maybe you can stay in the car, while I go in? I shouldn’t be longer than an hour; I only have papers to sign and stuff. And then I’ll take you home, we can watch a film or something, maybe I can even cook us some dinner?”
Pulling away, she looked at him smirking, “You can cook?”
“Oh yes I can,” he grinned, with a cocky wink, “I took lessons after that time I set your mum’s microwave on fire, I’m kind of gourmet!”
She chuckled to herself at the memory, “What exactly does “kind of gourmet” mean? You cut the carrots into flowers?”
He growled, pulling her to him, “My petulant little princess, I’ll reprimand you later for that little token of disrespect.” His mouth swept onto hers in a hungry kiss pinning her body back against the solid tiles; his tongue tunnelled its way between her lips, massaging softly but determined, against her own. Pulling both of her slender wrists between them, he held her hands against his chest, groaning when he caught a glance of the time on her dazzling Tiffany watch, and he threw his head back in exasperation. “Vittoria Casey, you are about the only thing that I allow to disrupt my schedule. Look at the time! I’ll be at least ten minutes late for my meeting. Yet another thing you’ll be paying for this evening angel.”
As a blush spread across her body, she knew he could see all of the X-rated possibilities that were racing through her, and she quickly started off back towards the bed to get ready, and not keep him “disrupted” any longer. She only got redder when he chuckled softly and headed for the clean underwear he’d pulled from the chest of drawers next to the vanity unit.
Pulling on the dark denim skinny jeans that he’d laid out for her, and the cream chenille DKN Y jumper, she let her hair fall in its natural platinum curls down her back, and applied a little colour to her cheeks and a sweep of mascara.
She was ready just a matter of seconds before him, completing her look with a pair of black leather knee high Jimmy Choo boots, with gold detailing. He froze turning to her as he was fixing his charcoal tie against the dove grey suit.
“Now you can’t blame me,” she pouted playfully.
“I’d blame you for the apocalypse right now babe,” he muttered, pulling her into his arms as she finished straightening his tie against his crisp collar, “How the fuck do you look so beautiful every second of the day. I’m the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet. Literally. You’re like Helen of fucking Troy or something,” his fingers ran across her cheeks lovingly, and she threw herself into the feeling, just as he pulled away and grabbed his keys off the sideboard.
She hung behind for just a second, watching his magnificent form walk out of the honeymoon suite. The man was practically a God, she had to check the mirror next to the door, just to check there was no actual drool coming from her mouth, before she followed him.
The club was much less intimidating in the harsh light of day. Windows that were previously hidden by the heavy dark drapes were opened wide, letting fresh air and sunlight flood the stages and central areas, so that Tori saw them for what they were – simple wooden constructions being used to hold up various restraining devices for the purposes of sexual gratification.
Okay, probably a little bit weird.
Walking two steps behind him, she watched as he hung the suite keys back on a hook on the bottom of the slick granite counter top at the reception desk, and hung both his suit and her dress from the evening before on a coat rack in the adjoining room.
“Jay,” she started, “Why ...”
He cut her off, “Both will be dry cleaned and pressed by this evening.”
“I could do that,” she protested, but he simply shook his head and turned away.
“Why bother? There’s no need. I have staff that will do it for us.”
Kissing the tip of her nose, he turned to the building’s side entrance, and out to his Audi. The conversation was apparently over. She had no choice but to follow him.
His driving was cool and controlled as he moved the Audi through the busy city traffic, and Tori just lay her head back against the seat while the soft rhythm of Laura Marling flowed over her relaxed form. She was almost asleep, she was so content. Sunlight streaming across her face, a soft breeze floating around her from both the air conditioning system and the sunroof above her, pulling her under a tranquil spell.
She never noticed when he pulled the car to a smooth halt. He simply turned in his seat, smoothing a hand over her denim clad thigh, and whispered something about keys and half hours.
And then he was gone, and so was the breeze, and Laura Marling.
Boredom swiftly followed, and she pulled the keys from the car, jumping out to enjoy a coffee at the cafe she’d spotted to the left of her, suddenly desperate for the caffeine.
Typing out a quick text to Jayden, she locked up the 4 x 4, and ordered herself a cappuccino from the counter, settling into a leather bucket chair in the corner with one of the tabloid newspapers.
Reading over the latest major political scandal, Tori smothered a besotted grin as a dark shadow fell across the page, thankful that her Adonis had pulled her from the dull as dishwater stupor that the imaginative tabloid articles had drilled her into.
Except that, when she looked up, it wasn’t her Adonis.
His full lips pulled into a wide smile, “A beautiful woman drinking coffee alone, this isn’t a sight I’m comfortable with.” His voice was tinged with a French accent, until it thickened like Creme Fraiche, melting off the end of his tongue.
He might not be hers, but he was still a fucking God!
His broad physique loomed across her, clad in a dark grey shirt, and a pair of suit slacks in a paler shade. He looked like a man with one foot in the office and the other in the gym. His dark hair was cut into a slick, choppy style that was ultra contemporary, and his sun-kissed skin was radiating energy and motivation. His features were open, completely transparent, and she felt an instinctive pull towards him.
It wasn’t like the magnetic force between her and Jayden, which consumed her, mind, body and soul, but it was a spiritual thing, as though she recognised a kindred spirit.
“What are you reading? Politics? A woman such as you should not be worrying herself over Politics!”
She chuckled, “Oh? And what should I be worrying myself over?”
“The latest range of Manolo Blahnik’s, perhaps, or the London Fashion Show? Speaking of, I have tickets, my date cancelled, will you join me?”
His face was completely honest, and almost hopeful as he looked down at her slender form curled up in the chair. She smiled back, preparing herself to decline, as a gruff voice broke across them tersely.
“No can do Sebastienne, Tori is completely off limits.” He pulled her up from the chair almost roughly, and tugged her handbag off the table next to her as he did so, his voice not much louder, but just as deadly as a growl, “And I told you, Vitoria, to stay in the fucking car!”