Glass Towers, Shattered (Glass Towers Trilogy) (29 page)

“No, uh thank you, I’m good.”
I buckle my belt and lean my head back into the headrest. I could get used to being chauffeured around like this, seriously.

I must have nodded off to sleep.
When I open my eyes, it is pitch black outside, there are no city lights and we are going about 20 miles per hour. As luck would have it, we are having unseasonably warm weather and the rain has stayed away for a couple days. I sit up to correct my slouching posture. The driver must have seen me stirring around in his rear view mirror.

“Miss Austen, we heading
down the driveway and should be pulling up momentarily. Mr. Towers is already here.”

“Oh
, thank you, ah…you know, I didn’t get your name!”

He chuckles, “It’s Kevin, my name is Kevin Schwartz.”

“Well, thank you for the smooth ride.”

Just as I finish touching up my lip gloss
, we pull up in front of the country mansion. I see there are a few lights on the front porch, and in a room at the front but otherwise the house is unlit. From the angle the car is pulling up to the circular drive, I see a reflection of light on the side garden area, coming from the top floor room on the back corner. Hmmm, interesting. Kevin pulls the car to a stop at the front walkway. I can imagine how grand this place was back in its heyday. Kevin gets out of the car and comes around to open my door. I step out into the cool, October night and feel a chill run down my spine. He takes my bag out of the trunk and follows me up the stairs. I wonder what he is thinking right now. It must seem bizarre that we he his dropping me off at this ramshackle house, instead of the plush hotel we just left less than an hour ago. The front door opens and once again, my breath catches in my chest. Standing before me is the sexiest master of the house I can ever imagine. He is wearing a light blue cotton button up shirt with a darker blue cashmere looking vest over it with a tan pair of fine-gauge corduroy pants. He looks so Town and Country right now. He flashes his prize-winning smile. “Good evening.” I smile back.

Harrison turns to Kevin and takes my bag from him.
“Thank you Kevin, I’ll call you when I need you back here tomorrow.

I follow Harrison into the house
, and he shuts the door behind me. “I have some refreshments to get the evening started.”  He grabs my hand, and I follow him through the vast foyer into the little sitting room to the right of the front door.  He has a blanket spread out on the floor and he motions for me to sit down.  He has some wine, champagne and appetizers in the middle of the blanket.  While he pours me a glass of wine, I ask, “How did Hood River go?”

He gives me a beaming smile.  “Good. Excellent, actually.”

I tilt my head and study his face. “Care to tell me about it?”

“No, not really.  Its business anyway, and I just want to enjoy
us
tonight.”  He sips his wine and leans over to give me a sweet-tasting kiss.

After
sharing almost 2 bottles of Harrison’s latest production for Tower Vineyards, along with the most delectable appetizers, I am now feeling it all over. My skin is flushed and tingly. The wine and champagne are working their way into every vein in my body. Harrison grabs my hand and he leads me up the grand staircase.

We walk into what would have been a grand master bedroom or library in the manor house
, once upon a time. I am completely floored. A beautiful wall of windows, that must be at least 25 feet high looks to the west. Sweeping, floor-to-ceiling cream paneled drapes hang, neatly tied to each side. The whole room covered in candles. Tiny tea lights illuminate the windows and fireplace.  Large candelabras line the floor around the fireplace and built-in bookshelves. I have just entered the most romantic scene that any woman could ever imagine. Gilded picture frames placed throughout, antique treasures scattered here and there, vintage books stacked in rows and artwork leaned up against furniture, covered in white sheets create the backdrop of our evening. As we walk further into the room, I feel myself spinning completely around. I am in complete awe. There must be over a hundred antique mirrors of all shapes, sizes and colors hung on the remaining walls. I finish spinning in my own circle, with my mouth hanging wide open. To top it off, there is what seems to be a bed on the floor in the middle of the room, comprising of pillows and blankets all in white. Candles also line the perimeter of the makeshift bed.

I can feel Harrison’s eyes intense on me, as my body responds.
He bites his lip, and I can see his desire written all over his face. Gasp! I can feel that the expression on my face has changed instantly. He’s going to rock my body all over this house. His piercing blue eyes burn into mine, as he sweeps me up and carries me through the room.  He places me on the soft bed of blankets and pillows. I am assuming that his ‘man help’ put together this wonderland of pleasure.

“If I forget to tell you tonight
, Danielle, you look beautiful.”

Harrison bends down and kisses my forehead sweetly, then his gaze moves back to mine.
The look on his face is confident, with a hint of the sexual animal that I know him to be.

His mouth mov
es to my lips, and he kisses me softly, from my checks to my ear lobes.  This sensation makes me want to rip off his clothes with every suck and tease. His hands move up my emerald green fitted knit dress, as his tongue moves down to my neck. He pulls down the sides of my dress, sliding it over my hips, exposing the green matching lingerie. His eyes widen, and I can tell that his desire is increasing.

“You,
Miss Austen...are a sight.”

I hear the swishing of ice in a bucket.
That instantly brings back memories of Hood River. Oh, the ice! Yes, please!

Harrison takes a piece of ice and trails it over my lips, gently
dragging it down my neck and over my collarbone. This sends chills all over my ready and wanting body. He runs the ice along the emerald lace of my bra, making my nipples hard and erect through the wet material. My body begins tensing and my breathing becomes heavy. This is hot. He trails the cube down my belly and follows it with his tongue. The cold and warm sensation drives me insane. The ice reaches my lace panties. Harrison drags it slowly over the lace and starts to move it in slow torturous circles. His tongue follows the circles over the lace. Dear God, help me!

His tongue
begins darting through my panties, as he tries to drive it through the lace, into me. This is driving me fucking insane. My head arches back and my body tenses up to his mouth.

“I want all of you.
The thought of your skin touching mine like this, has driven me insane, Danielle. I crave you. I need you.”

He slips a finger on each side of my panties and pulls them down, ever so gently.
His tongue plunges inside me, parting my soaked lips. Possessively taking over my “P”, he pushes his whole face inside me. He works me over until I am at the brink of an orgasm. He always knows exactly what he is doing. My sexual master is in control. He quickly pulls his tongue away and drags it all the way up my chest to my mouth. Climbing on top of me while kissing me passionately, he prepares me for what is to come.  Oh, that wicked mouth of his! His cock is hard, as I can feel it through those sexy corduroys that ride off his hips. I reach down and unzip his pants. He slides right out. His cock is throbbing against me as he immerses it in my dripping wet “P”.

He throws his head back with pleasure.

“Shit, Danielle. You feel so fucking good.” He groans louder, as he pulls out of me and then slams right back into me.

I grab the blanket above my head with one hand, and bite on my finger to silence the screams of pleasure.
He pulls out a little more and starts to just insert the tip of his needy cock, and swirls his hips. He slams into me, then pulls back, repeating the slow teasing of his hard cock.

“Oh
, Harrison,” I moan as I pull his body closer into mine.

The smile on his face says it all.
He is waiting for me.

He leans back to my ear and whispers, “Your body is made for my cock
, Danielle.”

O
h shit, I am going to cum. My “P” is filling up and pulsating out of control. I can’t stop the contractions. I don’t want to. I want to cum now!

“You ready for it baby,” he growls loudly.

Oh, yes. I know exactly where this is going.

He takes both of my legs and throws them on his shoulders, as he leans as far into me as he can. The tightness of my legs and the position of his cock inside me
are going to set me off. His body is slamming into me and this position hits my magic spot in all the right ways.

I can feel the warmth of his cock moving inside me.
He is getting ready for his release, and it makes my “P” clench onto every bit of his length. He moves faster and harder, as he holds both of my ankles to one shoulder. Our bodies convulse together, as we both release long moans, having lost all control. My “P” tightens up around his cock, and the waves of pleasure release all throughout my body, sending me into a complete shock wave of pure pleasure. Another full body orgasm. Both of us shake and tremble. We lay motionless, still connected. His cock inside me, I can feel every vein throbbing as my “P” clenches with every pulse.

Harrison kisses me on the forehead, then traces his index finger over my lips and down my chest.

“You are made for me. You know that. Every inch of you. I will never tire of the fire you ignite in me. ”

In the afterglow of amazing sex, in the arms of my love, those words have just made my heart sprout wings and I am flying high right now.

After a few minutes, Harrison turns to me,
“Well, aren’t you famished?” He stands up and puts his hand down to help me to my feet.  He hands me his button up shirt and I slip it on with nothing else, while he puts on his pants.  It’s a bit chilly, so I grab a blanket from the bed and wrap it around me.  Harrison leads me by the hand down the stairs into the grand dining room. I look around the dimly lit room and notice right away the antique chandelier hanging over the monstrous hardwood dining table. The table appears to be made of mahogany with some kind of wood inlay. It seats eighteen, and the chairs are all here. I cannot imagine an occasion where I would want to cook for eighteen people. I suppose, if you lived in a house this size, you would not be doing the cooking yourself when serving eighteen. 

Harrison pulls out a chair at the end of the table for me.
I am seated and wait his next move. Now that I think about it, I am ravenous! He disappears through the butler’s pantry and returns with his tank bag from his motorcycle. He sets the bag down on the floor near the table. He begins by pulling out a white tablecloth, which he spreads out on the table before me in a rather askew arrangement. As he pulls more items out, he begins handing them to me, and I place them on the table. The last things he removes are paper plates and plastic cutlery. I giggle as he says, “nothing but the finest.”

Once again
, Philippe has outdone himself with chilled jumbo shrimp and a cocktail sauce, a cruet plate of celery sticks, carrots, pickles, and a radish tartine. To top it off, we have a couple bottles of bubbly and little pots d crème for dessert. These little meals on the go have been so much fun, and the food is very different than my usual fare. I think I am getting used to eating like this.

“Tell me more about your friend Simone, um Clarke.
What is her story?” He crunches on a celery stick.

I’m a little taken aback
, “Clarke? What do you want to know exactly?”

“I don’t know, you are such great friends.
If I want to you about you, I should know more about the people in your life, I guess.”

“Oh.
Well, we have pretty much been lifelong friends. I can’t think of a time that we haven’t been best pals. We even went to the same college. I went for interior design and she, of course, fashion. She is from a huge, traditional Italian family  and…”

He chokes on
a sip of water. I reach to pat him on the back. “Sorry, when you say traditional, Simone does not come to mind. It’s a strange last name for an Italian family, it sounds more Irish.”

“Well, I never said
she
is traditional, just her family. Yes, I do believe there is some Irish in there somewhere, not real sure where though. That may explain her reddish hair.” I giggle when I think of Clarke and that wild mane of hair. “Anyway, her mom is just beside herself. She had wanted Clarke to be married and taking care of ten kids by now! Of course, she is completely anti-conformity to a degree. So, you can imagine how the thought of settling down and having kids does not work into her delusions of grandeur.”

He nods.
“I see. I spoke to Blaine Ford the other day, and it seems they hit it off in more than one way.” He wiggles his brows at me.

I swat at him.
“Oh stop! Actually, she is quite taken in and obsessed by all the glitz and glamour that someone like Blaine Ford offers. Though, believe it or not, she really likes Garrin.”