Take a Bow (The Perfect Plans Series Book 2) (8 page)

“It’s not Christmasy - is that even a word?” I laugh, moving towards him to caress his glorious chest through his shirt. “I was going for
dreamy
, but right now I would certainly call it romantic.” I step on my tiptoes to reach his lips for a kiss.

“Romantic is good,” he replies through the lingering touch of our lips.

“It is,” I agree, feeling the delicious pull of his building desire, the quickening of our breaths.

I give in to him, his tongue teasing for entry, melting against his chest as he pulls me close. I’m not sure if it’s the soft slowness of our kiss that makes my heart beat faster, or maybe it just feels that way - like I’m floating as I lose myself in the taste of him. He cups my cheeks in his hands to deepen it, the sensual lure enough that I could drift away. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought that just yesterday, I could have lost him, and I pull firmly at his nape, desperate to hold him to me. I never want to let him go again.

Our euphoric spell is quickly broken at the pitter patter of little feet outside in the hallway followed by my sister’s muffled order, “Give Aunt Aby and Mr. Tate some privacy, honey.” We laugh against each other’s lips at little Jessica’s cute reply, “Why, Mommy? What’s piracy?”

“Romance can wait,” he caresses my cheek, brushing his thumb across my lip. “I actually have something I want to ask you,” he adds, taking my hand to sit us down on the bed, its aged creaking giving me momentary pause for concern.

“If this is an offer to take me to Prom, I’m sorry to say, you’re too late.”

“Oh, you already have a date?” he asks, playing along.

“Yeah, I do.” I pull my leg up, turning to face him with a playful shrug.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to wait until it’s over to whisk you away with me to L.A.”

“What?”

Alex chuckles at my confused expression. “Filming begins in two weeks, and could last for up to four months. I have a place on the coast, and I want you to come with me.”

“For like…a visit?”

“No, Aby, I want you with me
for like
the entire stay,” he teases, taking my hand in his. “I want you to move to L.A. with me.”

I’m speechless, fairly certain my eyes are bugging from the sockets, mentally standing to do a giant jumping jack on my bed.

“Well, I was thinking, since you’re working on a freelance basis with Ashley Fines, work won’t be an issue.” He bends to look more closely in my eyes, “Aby, say something.”

“No…” the word comes out as an afterthought as I finally begin processing his words.

“No?”

“Yes…I mean, no, work won’t be an issue,” I scramble for my words to catch up to my thoughts. “But there is the issue of Amira’s flat - although, I guess she won’t mind that I’m not actually
in
it, as long as I continue to pay my rent.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he bends to nibble at my neck.

“Alex, I signed the sublease for a six month term, I have to fulfill my obligation. Wait…what do you mean?”

“I just don’t think it’s something you need to worry about,” he mutters through the delicate brushes of his lips against my skin.

Nothing I need to worry about
…“You’ve done something,” I push his shoulders to draw the attention of his gaze. “What did you do?”

His delicious mouth pulls up at the corner before he gently grabs my nape to kiss me. It’s an obvious attempt at distraction, and despite how easily I could give in to it, I brush him off. “Spill it, Tate,” I order with a playful glare.

“Spill what?” he questions coyly, aiming for my neck again. “I haven’t done anything…recently.” He ups the game of his nibbling lips with his caressing fingers down my spine.

“Recently?” I pull away once more, biting the corner of my mouth to avoid giving in to the adorable pout he offers. “Please tell me you didn’t do something crazy like pay my lease out?” I laugh - I
was
joking. His expression, however, is spoiling the humor. “Alex? What did…?” I trail off, suddenly remembering the day we met with Amira - the way she looked to Alex momentarily when I asked what the rent would be. “What exactly did you and Amira discuss before I came to the flat that day?”

“We discussed you, of course.”

“And…?”

He lets out a defeated sigh with an awkward smile. “Let’s just say, Amira and I came to an understanding about the rent.”

“What kind of
understanding
?”

“A mutually exclusive agreement.”

“Alex Tate, I swear, if you don’t…”

“I offered to pay her rent for the six months she is away, if she agreed to sublet her flat to…”

“
What
?”

Smiling, he shrugs.

“Well, that certainly explains the low rent I pay,” I shake my head, unsure if I should be appalled or flattered. “And what exactly would you have done if I hadn’t agreed to go out with you after all that?”

“The thought never entered my mind.” His devilish smile is ridiculous. The man could melt butter.

“Oh, really…cocky much?”

“Not at all, I actually wasn’t thinking that far ahead.” He takes my hand to kiss it. “I just knew I had to make it happen.” The sincerity in his gaze is my undoing, akin to an injection of a mind-numbing drug into my veins. My body reacts to the familiar rush that only he can give me. “The rent you have been paying has been going to a charity that Amira and I agreed upon.”

“You’re incredible,” I shake my head.

“It’s a charity near and dear to my heart,” he begins to explain as though he should, “…however, you can choose your own, now that you know.”

“You really are a wonderful man, Alexander Tate,” I take his face in my hands to kiss his beautiful lips.

“I don’t know about that,” he replies, shyly. “I do, however, know that I would have done whatever I had to, to make you mine.”

And I almost gave you up
…my breath hitches at the thought.

“So, back to what we were discussing,” he pulls my lip from its bite with his thumb, caressing my jaw. “Will you move to L.A. with me?”

“Oh, that. I just don’t know…” I play indifference, pretending to fiddle with my hair.

“Aby, I can’t go without…”

“Yes! Of course I’ll move to L.A. with you!” I wrap my arms around his neck, a little too tightly.

“Aby, I…can’t breath,” he mutters playfully.

“We’re going to L.A.!” I jump up on the bed to pull my imagined leap into reality, landing on my side, pulling him into my arms; the bedframe swaying from the impact, its creaks akin to an eerie horror movie sound effect.

“You’re excited about this,” he notes, wrapping me in his arms.

“I’m excited about you…just being with you,” I correct him, melting into his kiss.

“I think you will be excited about Necker too,” he says, pulling away to rain kisses down my neck.

“Necker?” I question, giggling. “Are you suggesting you want to brand me, Mr. Tate? Hickey’s are highly frowned upon.”

“I’m suggesting four days to ourselves on Necker Island,” his lips twist into a smile against my neck.

“What?” I pull back, pushing him away at the shoulders. “What’s Necker Island?”

“You mean,
where
is Necker Island?” he corrects me with a jovial smirk.

“Stop it,” I give him the stink eye. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s in the British Virgin Islands,” he pauses as though that will clear it all up for me. His devilish grin suggests he’s playing with me, stretching it out to tease. “It’s Sir Richard Branson’s private island.” My slight head shake and neck crane urge him to elaborate. “I took the liberty of hiring the island exclusively,” he finally adds.

“Get out!” I shove his shoulders in awe. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he chuckles. “Does this mean you want to go?”

“Are you serious?” I repeat in a high-pitched squeal, jumping up from the bed. “When? When are we going?”

“If we fly back to London tonight, we can pack tomorrow and depart for the island the following day. If that works for you?” His charming smile is ridiculous.

“Are you kidding me? Yes, that works for me!”

“Well, you’re not just packing for the island, you have to pack for L.A. as well. We will fly directly there from Necker…”

I jump into his lap, cutting him off with my lips against his.

“So, that’s a yes?” he laughs through my onslaught.

“It’s a
hell
yes,” I push him down on the bed.
Screw the flimsy canopy…

“WOW. THIS IS just…beautiful,” I spin around in place in awe of our stunning guesthouse, nestled in the center of the private island. Decorated impeccably in Bali style, the dark, rich wood accents along the high peaked ceiling is carried through in the dark wood of the furniture, upholstered in off-white linens with added turquoise accent pillows. The open concept exterior walls of retractable glass doors are framed with matching white draperies, allowing the warm breeze to waft through uninhibited. The teal blue ocean beyond goes on forever. “And this view,” I continue, spellbound by it. “It’s breathtaking.”

“Oh, I would have to agree,” his tone is sinfully inviting.

Turning towards him, I’m assailed with the equally sinful, sexy grin he’s flashing me as he bends to prop a suitcase in the stand.

I’d be lying if I said those smirks weren’t getting to me after the very many he’s sent my way since boarding the very first plane to get here - two torturously tempting flights by his delectable side, followed by an incredible ride to Necker Island on a luxury catamaran. To say he looked sinfully heavenly against the backdrop of an ocean that matched his perfect blue eyes, yet paled in comparison to the Adonis of a man, is a serious understatement. And the man can fill out a pair of khakis like no other. Top that with his light blue dress shirt, his hair wind blown and disheveled, the temptation was jarring. It took everything in my being to keep from pulling him below deck to do the things those deliciously curled lips of his were inviting me to. But I’ve lasted this long, and the idea of playing with him - dragging it out a little longer - is turning me on even more.

“Honestly, though,” I pretend to ignore his suggestive demeanor, “…I’m not sure what takes my breath away more, the villa, or the view,” I walk towards the wall of open glass doors.

“There’s no question,” he comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, brushing my hair over my shoulder to kiss my neck. “
You
take my breath away,” he whispers.

Closing my eyes, I lean back into his hold, wrapping my arms atop his at my waist, our fingers intertwining. Nothing could feel better than being in the arms of this man…
Except that
, my eyes dart open, the feel of his erection at my behind eliciting delicious quivers down my core.

Lust threatens my playful composure as he rains delicious nips and kisses down my neck, the teasing licks of his seductive tongue on my flesh too much for my body to ignore. Uncontrollably, I arch back, desperate to brush against him. I couldn’t fight the desire he evokes in me no matter how hard I try. I’m his for the taking.
Always his
.

The feel of his smile against my skin pulls my lips into a defeated grin. He knows the affect he has on me, and I give in to my body’s captive longing to grind against his arousal in needy affirmation.

His breathless growl brushes my ear before he turns me swiftly to face him, his hands caressing my behind. The longing in his gaze is my final undoing. I belong to this man. Mind. Body. Soul.

“I love you,” I whisper, lost in the beautiful blue eyes staring down at me.

“You know what those words do to me,” he whispers on a groan.

His kiss is forceful and sensually erotic as he claims me, wrenching me against him to take the onslaught of his evident desire against my core. I moan through the assault of his perfect lips, wrapping my arms around his neck, my fingers lacing in his curls, pulling at his nape for more.

His fingers work sensually up my back beneath my shirt, lifting it in their wake. “I need you, Aby,” he groans with husky desire, the acclamation echoed in the workings of his strong hands and their electrifying glides across my skin.

Reaching my arms beneath my loose blouse, he guides them from my hold of his neck, inciting me to raise them in assistance as he pulls it off over my head. My skin perks in excitement as his fingers glide back down my bare arms, pinning them in his one hand behind my back, bending to devour my décolletage.
God, I love when he takes control
.

The sensual swipe of his free palm across my breast hitches my breath, releasing my gasp as he aggressively frees my breast from the cup of my bra to the attack of his magical tongue.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, pulling back to look into my eyes. “So fucking beautiful,” he grabs my nape, pulling me to his lips.

Frantically, I pull at the buttons of his shirt, desperate in my need to touch him, to feel him bare against me. Every perfect part of him.

The sudden loss of his lips against mine shifts from a flicker of pain to thrilling excitement as he moves to finish what I started, jerking the tucked hem from inside his pants to release the final buttons before peeling it back over his shoulders. It falls to the floor and I reach for him instantly, greedily devouring his perfect form, my fingers hungrily trailing their way down his sculpted chest and abs, and back up again.