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Scotty laughs. “Are you kidding me? I thought it was so obvious I worshipped you. Sure, I was acting like a pest. But a pest who thought you were the most exciting, challenging, hilarious, beautiful, hot girl in the whole world.” He reaches a hand up and strokes my cheek. “Which is exactly what you are.”
I just stand there gaping, unable to believe what I’m hearing.
“Okay, listen, I’ve got to go back in now,” he says, “I’m trying to close a deal and I shouldn’t keep them waiting much longer. Please—don’t go back today. Stay at least for the night. I’m going to a gala this evening, I can’t skip it, and it wold be sixty million times more fun if you come with me.”
“A gala?” I manage to say, nonsensically.
“I’ll talk to my assistant and he’ll take you to my apartment and make sure you have everything you need, including something to wear tonight. You’re staying. I’m not letting you leave, not now.”
I nod, still overwhelmed. He gathers me in his arms again and holds me tight. “We’re going to have more fun than you’ve ever had in your life,” he murmurs into my ear.
And…I believe him.
CHAPTER FIVE
You won’t be surprised to hear that Scott’s apartment is totally magnificent. It’s a penthouse apartment in one of the tallest, fanciest buildings in the city, with a wraparound terrace and 360 degree views. You can see boats on the river, the bridges, the parks, the sunset. The sunrise too, I guess, for that matter. And the inside is just unbelievable—everything sleek and modern and beautiful, without any piles of junk anywhere. Not that I know anything about that.
His assistant, Martin, insists on taking my measurements and then going shopping for me, and I think I’ve made his day. He gets to leave the office and go to a bunch of boutiques, and I…well, what am I going to be doing? I can’t just sit in this apartment for hours waiting for Scott to be done making a bajillion dollars.
After Martin has all the measurements he needs, I decide to go out for a walk. I’ve never spent time in this city and I like walking around to get to know a place. And walking—it helps me think. And I really need some time to think, to let everything that’s happened in the last few days work its way through my head.
I don’t doubt for a second that Scott is right about my stepfather. I realize that I’ve known it all along, really—and probably a lot of the hate that I was dumping on Scott really should have been directed at Randy. So many creepy memories come back to me—times when he would offer to put sunscreen on my back, or come in my room without knocking, sometimes catching me half-dressed. Or when he would buy me sexy clothes, like the dress I wore to the funeral.
I was making excuses for him, telling myself he was just tone deaf, didn’t understand girls, whatever…when deep down, I knew exactly what he was up to.
And why he’s always in a rage now whenever I come home. Furious with his son and with me, because he never got what he wanted. I feel bad for my mom, but also—free in a way, for the first time since I can remember.
I’m surprised when I get back to the penthouse that Scott is already home, and Martin is back too.
Scotty grins at me. “She’s gonna look awesome in that,” he says to Martin, and Martin just nods his head off.
“Okay you two, cheers and have a wonderful night,” he says, and slips out. I see big white boxes stacked behind Scotty, and several shopping bags with gold script on them.
“The gala’s not until 8,” he says, still grinning at me. “I can’t be late, they’re giving me an award,” he sort of mumbles. “So why don’t you try on the dress and make sure it fits, while we still have time to call Martin back if you don’t like it. Also, I’ve got someone coming over to do your hair and makeup.”
I’m…not used to this. I mean…someone to do my hair and makeup?
“I know it probably seems like overkill,” he says. “But like it or not, you’re going to be in for some scrutiny tonight, there’ll be paparazzi for sure at this thing, so I want you looking your best.”
I nod, feeling sort of in a haze and I stumble into a bedroom and open up the box with the dress. Oh. my. god. I’ve never even seen anything like this before. It’s red silk, it’s gorgeously made, and I peel off my suit and put that thing on so fast it’s not funny. Now where is that box of shoes?
“Ainsley,” says Scott, when I appear. “Come here.”
I walk to him, my face flushing. I feel a little bit like I’m playing dress-up and I get a little shy.
“You,” he says, touching my chin and then letting his fingers caress my neck, “are…” and his fingers trace along the neckline of the dress, which plunges down to expose my cleavage, “so…” and now I’m smelling him, and you know what that leads to, “…hot…” and I’m trembling, it’s like years of pent-up passion are on the verge of release, and I want to leap into his arms so bad but I’m waiting…
“I love you, Ains,” he says into my hair, his arms around me, his smokin’ bod pressed up against me. His lips find mine and we’re kissing and it’s sexier than anything I could believe.
I can feel his shaft pushing into my mound and my panties are drenched in an instant, because it’s like proof that he wants me as much as I want him.
Then what I desire more than anything is to feel that shaft with my tongue. I want to take him in my mouth and taste him. I drop down out of his grasp, onto my knees. I look up at him and his eyes bore into me, he’s not smiling but his face is contorted with desire and he rocks his hips forward, towards me, and I know he wants me to suck him as much as I want to do it.
Slowly I unzip his jeans. I make him wait. I have no idea what the hell I’m doing, but how hard could it be, right?
Very hard. His cock I’m talking about.
Hold it, Ainsley, it’s not time for jokes.
Okay then. I’ve never seen a cock up close like this and I’m amazed at the effect it’s having on me and I haven’t even sprung it out of its boxer-brief prison. It’s straining against the fabric and Scotty moans and pushes his hips towards me again.
“Suck me,” he murmurs, and I hear how much he wants it. Wants me.
I pull down his boxer briefs and his cock springs out. There’s a droplet of moisture on the tip and I lick that off. Scotty moans. Then I take his rod in my hand and squeeze it, and move my hand up and down, but it’s too dry so I lick all around to make it slippery. I run my tongue up and down its length, nibbling lightly with my lips folded over my teeth, delighting in every moment, every taste, every sensation.
When I take him in my mouth, Scotty moves his legs apart for balance, and I love that, love that I could knock him over with how good I’m making him feel. I suck hard, I swirl my tongue over the head, I reach up and pull him towards me, into my throat, until he is making sounds like an animal, and we’re both so into it, it’s so fucking exciting and he’s pumping himself into my mouth, faster and faster until he freezes for a moment. He says my name. And then he explodes and I suck him until he’s dry, loving every salty drop.
Well, I guess no more innocent Ainsley!
