Читать книгу Turn Me On - Dylan Rose - Страница 10

GREGOR WASN’T A fan of air travel, but he had done it so often in his career that settling in for a New York to London flight was really no big deal. As he settled back in his seat, reclining it now that the seat belt light was off, his mind began to turn over the details of the meetings he had taken over the past few days in the city.

There was talk of launching a new show, a cookbook, even a podcast. And while he was grateful that viewers still wanted to see and hear more from him, the truth was that his heart just wasn’t in it. Ever since things had gone so terribly wrong with Emily, his girlfriend of over five years, he’d been down in the dumps. His friends had tried to cheer him up with several wild nights out in London, Ibiza and even Paris, but nothing had changed his downtrodden mood. His knack for picking up the prettiest girl in the room was still intact. The problem was, those easy hookups just weren’t a thrill anymore.

So when his dear, old friend Bev at the magazine had begged him for an exclusive interview, promising to set him up with her top reporter—who also happened to be dynamic and wildly attractive—he allowed himself to be convinced. Some time spent with a woman who could actually make intelligent conversation sounded pretty good. And besides, when it came to Bev, he knew that there was no stopping her from getting what she wanted. So with a little bit of skepticism in his heart, he had agreed to booking the same flight and opening up his home to a complete stranger.

After flipping through the channels on the in-flight TV, Gregor turned to see that his traveling companion was already fast asleep. He smiled to himself, thinking that Bev knew him better than he had realized. Physically, Faye was his type—blonde, American, fit but not rail thin, with curves in all the right places.

Making sure she was actually asleep, he stole a quick glance at her breasts, the outline of which were nicely visible through her sweater. A feeling started to stir inside him that necessitated him readjusting the front of his jeans. Gregor quickly averted his gaze and grabbed a copy of the free magazine in his seat pocket.

As he absentmindedly paged through it, Faye stirred and stretched and then curled her body into his side. Gregor looked over at her and exhaled with a deep sigh. She was smart and sexy, and there was also an earnestness about her that was totally refreshing. The thought of getting her naked in his bed was very, very appealing.

Keep it professional, old boy, he thought to himself, trying to focus on an article on fly-fishing. Just then, Faye languidly threw her arm across his chest, pressing her ample breasts into his side and making a gentle purring sound as she slept. Gregor rolled his eyes and suddenly felt completely helpless to resist the growing urge she was inadvertently awakening inside of him. As he leaned over to pull her shawl up over her, he accidentally inhaled the sweet scent of her hair—a mixture of jasmine and honeysuckle that went straight to his head, intoxicating him more than any glass of champagne ever could.

Just then, a flight attendant appeared next to him, the same one he thought was flirting with him earlier.

“Excuse me, sir, would your girlfriend like a blanket?” she asked in a hushed tone.

Gregor stuttered momentarily, wondering if he should correct her. “Yes. Thank you very much.”

Clearly, this did not look like what it was—a strictly business relationship. Would he be able to keep it to that? he wondered. When the flight attendant returned with the blanket, he laid it across Faye so that some of it was covering his legs, too. Against his better judgment, he allowed himself to imagine the beautiful American reaching her hand out to touch the growing bulge in his jeans. He thought about what it would be like if she actually undid his zipper, releasing his hardness and stroking it, unbeknownst to their fellow passengers, under the privacy of that airline blanket. Gregor sat back in his seat again, closing his eyes and allowing himself to revel in that sweet fantasy. Faye seemed like a nice girl, which made it all the naughtier, imagining her doing such dirty things to him in public.

“Mmm-mmm…” Faye left like she had no control over the noises that were coming out of her mouth.

“Shhh!” Gregor said, squeezing her ass as he balanced her on the plane lavatory sink. The full length of his manliness was inside her, and she was wetter than she could ever remember being.

In such close quarters, she was forced to look directly into Gregor’s sparkling blue eyes, which was not such a terrible thing except for the fact that it intensified all the sensations she was feeling, making it even more difficult to keep quiet and not arouse the suspicion of the other passengers.

Gregor kept a firm grip on her ass. His motions were quick and deliberate, his eyes flashing with lust as he expertly drilled her, clearly stifling his own need to grunt or make any kind of sound. Wanting to be somehow even closer to him, Faye tilted her pelvis upward so that with each stroke she could feel his body graze up against her clitoris, which sent shivers running up her spine. It was the most pleasurable feeling she had even known—the fullness of Gregor’s manhood inside her combined with the friction against that sensitive nub of nerves. In a moment her hands were in his hair and she pressed her mouth into his shoulder, trying to stop herself from coming. It was no use, as her body exploded in the biggest orgasm she’d ever experienced.

“Oh!” Faye cried out, waking up groggy in her seat. When she realized she’d been dreaming she instinctively clenched her wrap up close around her throat, covering herself as best she could from the curious eyes of her neighbors in the first-class cabin, and the handsome man seated next to her.

“Someone had a nice nap,” Gregor said devilishly, raising an eyebrow at her. Faye quickly sat up, mortified that she had been pressed up against a man she hardly knew. At least he didn’t know what she’d been dreaming. Or she hoped she hadn’t said anything in her sleep that would give him a clue.

“I’m so sorry,” Faye said, reaching into her bag for the water bottle she’d purchased back at the terminal and taking a big sip. Her mouth was dry and she felt totally disoriented.

“Not at all,” Gregor said kindly.

Faye reached for her bag again and this time, slung it over her shoulder. “Will you excuse me?”

Gregor stood up to allow Faye to pass into the aisle, but even as he tried to make room, their legs brushed up against each other’s, causing Faye to recoil. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy being in close contact with the Englishman, it was that she was too afraid of revealing her not-so-mild attraction to him.

When she reached the bathroom, Faye pushed the door open and locked it behind her. Splashing cold water on her face, but being careful not to wet her mascara, she tried to snap herself out of whatever reverie she was indulging in. Grabbing some paper towels, she looked down at the sink and vividly recalled some of the key scenes from her very dirty dream about Gregor. And although the dream wasn’t real, the reaction of her body was. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so frustrated with herself and at the same time, so turned on.

So it was possible she could feel like this again! she thought to herself. After her wedding was canceled, it seemed like her nether regions had dried up like the Sahara. It startled her to think that Gregor could arouse such a primal, physical reaction in her. She was just getting used to leading a sexless existence, but here was proof that she could still get those butterfly feelings—and then some! Fixing her lip gloss and running a brush through her hair, the sensible side of Faye took over. Even if she had been turned on by a dream, that was much different from getting turned on in real life. She unlocked the door and made her way back toward her seat.

“Feeling better?” Gregor asked, flashing Faye a knowing look as she slid past him and took her seat.

“I’m fine, thank you,” she responded. She looked down at Gregor’s tray table and saw that he was reviewing the file folder Bev had given her.

“This is some pretty intense reading,” he said, paging through the clippings. “Guy seems like a bit of a wanker.”

“Hey! That’s my research,” Faye said defensively. “It must have fallen out of my bag.”

Gregor closed the folder and looked Faye directly in the eyes. It was eerily just like in the dream. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he said, his tone turning serious. “If I’m going to do this interview, then it can’t be any of these canned questions. No, ‘what’s your go-to recipe’ or ‘your favorite holiday destination’ crap. I want us to have a real conversation. Does that make sense?”

“Of course,” Faye said, sliding the folder off his tray table and back into her bag.

“I don’t mean to criticize, it’s just that I want this to be genuine,” he said. Faye could see that he was struggling to put all his thoughts and feelings into words. “I’ll make you a promise,” he said, leaning in closer toward her, so much that she could smell that manly, heady scent of him again. “I’ll be completely open with you. If you do the same with me.”

Faye shifted in her seat, feeling just the slightest bit uncomfortable. “Well,” she answered carefully, “this interview isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

“True,” Gregor said, his tone growing even more direct, “but if there’s to be trust, I need to know that you’re being honest with me.”

“Okay,” Faye acquiesced. “What do you want to know?”

Gregor leaned in to whisper in Faye’s ear. He was so close, she could feel the bristle of his whiskers against her cheek. “When was the last time you were touched, I mean really touched?”

Faye’s cheeks instinctively burned hot. “Excuse me?” she hissed in a hushed tone.

Gregor turned his head so that their eyes were locked on each other’s. “I can tell when someone is lonely. I’ve met lots of people in my line of work. It’s like a signal people send out when they need contact.”

Faye’s cheeks burned even hotter, not because Gregor was wrong, but because he was so very right.

“Maybe you’re right, but it’s still none of your business,” she said. And with that, Faye reached into her bag, pulled out her headphones and turned her attention to the screen in front of her for the duration of the flight.

When the plane finally landed in Heathrow, Faye was looking cool, calm and collected on the outside, but inside she was completely stressed out. Somehow, she was no longer on speaking terms with the person she was supposed to be interviewing. She vowed to herself to keep her personal feelings out of it and focus on the task at hand.

As they walked from the gate to baggage claim, Faye wondered why Gregor was so intent on figuring her out. Maybe it was a way to deflect attention off himself. Was he afraid of revealing too much? Was there something in his past he’d rather forget? She watched as a little boy walking with his family dropped his stuffed animal. Without a second thought, Gregor grabbed the doll and sprinted toward the family, calling out to them until the little boy was reunited with his bear. Faye watched a second longer as the family recognized him. Gregor gamely posed for selfies with each of the family members, including the stuffed bear. So he was a good guy, too, Faye thought, almost wishing it wasn’t so. If he was an asshole, it would be so much easier to dismiss him, to put thoughts of him out of her mind.

As they left the baggage claim, each with a suitcase, Gregor headed to the parking lot and Faye followed. By the time they reached his car, a glistening black Miata, she was happy to be inside and get warm. Sliding into the passenger seat, Faye looked out the window as Gregor started the engine.

“I’m sorry about what I said back there, about your…” Gregor started and then trailed off. “None of my bloody business.”

“That’s right,” Faye said matter-of-factly, in the most curt tone she could muster. Still, she couldn’t help but allow a smile to cross her lips. It was delightful, knowing he was worried he had offended her.

“What?” he asked, turning his attention from the road to her and back again.

Faye laughed and pushed him playfully on the arm.

“Hey!” he cried. “One of us is operating a motor vehicle. This is serious business.”

“I’m sure,” Faye said, reaching over to the console and turning on the radio. It was “I’m Alive” by Love and Rockets. Faye started to sing and after a moment, Gregor joined in, tapping the beat on the steering wheel.

When the song ended, they smiled at each other in acknowledgment of the moment.

“So, don’t you want to ask me about my sex life?” Gregor asked after a moment.

“Not really,” Faye said, and watched amusedly as Gregor made a face. “How about this,” she started, blushing slightly at the question she couldn’t believe she was about to ask. “What’s the strangest place you’ve ever made love?”

Gregor laughed at the question, throwing back his head. Faye loved the sound of his laugh, it was so devil-may-care and sexy.

“Easy!” Gregor said emphatically. “A bear cave at the zoo!”

Faye laughed. “With—a bear?”

“No!” Gregor yelled, smacking her on the leg. The slap sent a pleasurable sensation across her thigh and straight to her nether region. She put her hand on the spot he had touched and rubbed it. “With a young lady. It was ill-advised. For us and the bear.”

“Thank God you’re alright!”

“Yes, but I am banned by the Zoological Society of London for life. I think they have a security shot of my face midcoitus posted in the break room.”

“I’m sure the bears needed therapy,” Faye said, smiling at him.

“Indeed.”

Faye looked out the window and saw the familiar buildings of London disappearing on the horizon. “Hey, why are we driving away from the city?”

Gregor paused a moment before answering. “We’re going to my country house. You’ll like it. It’s much more intimate.” Gregor must have felt Faye giving him a look because he quickly added, “Less noise. You’ll have your own room, of course, and access to the study.”

Faye thought about protesting—after all this was not according to plan. Bev’s itinerary stated that she would have her own room at The Savoy and that all the interviews would take place in a meeting room set aside for that exact purpose. Still, it was true that she would probably get more out of Gregor if he were allowed to roam free in his natural habitat. And anyway, she was curious to see how this globe-trotting star lived when he wasn’t filming. Often a person’s home told more stories about them, or inspired the subject to open up like nowhere else.

Instead of complaining, Faye found another song she liked on the radio and settled in for the drive.

It was late in the evening by the time they reached the country roads leading to Gregor’s residence, and it was too dark outside for Faye to discern any of the scenery. The only thing she could see was Gregor, his strong profile lit up by the dashboard lights, his face looking serious as he navigated the winding roads. Seeing him like that made her wonder why he had dropped out of the public eye over the past few years. Was it something romantic? Or something related to a family member? There would be time for all of those questions when they got settled into the country house and had gotten a good night’s sleep. The thought of sleeping in the same place as Gregor made Faye’s heart skip a beat. Even if they would be in separate rooms, it would still be such close quarters. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to turn the car around and take her to the safe anonymity of her reserved hotel room, or to just pull over to the side of the road and make out with her furiously. She thought about what it would be like to slide over the console dividing their seats and straddle his lap. She imagined her hair falling over her face as she leaned over him, grinding her way to ecstasy on that lean, strong, beautiful body of his.

Faye let out a sigh and saw Gregor’s eyes momentarily flicker from the road onto her and back again. They drove on into the night.

By the time they reached the cottage, Faye was feeling groggy from all the travel, but she perked up at the sight of the beautiful stone house. Even in the pitch black, she could see that it was surrounded by a beautiful English garden, with seemingly every possible variety of flower sprouting from the ground to decorate the gray slabs. Gregor came around to open the car door for her and when she stepped onto the gravel, she noticed just how peacefully still it was outside, her heels crunching against the rocks was the only sound she could hear. It had been a while since she’d left the city and she’d forgotten just how much quieter things were away from the subways and 24/7 delis.

“This is it,” Gregor said, fishing in his bag for the key. “My humble abode.” Gregor unlocked the door and flipped a switch that lit up the entryway and the living room. If the outside of the house was country-chic, the inside was definitely cozy-modern, with neutral colors, comfortable couches, a wide-screen TV and top-of-the-line Bose speakers. Faye could see the kitchen from where she was standing, and it looked like something from out of a magazine. It was like stepping into the most expensive choice on the Airbnb list, except that this was Gregor’s home.

“Or not so humble,” Faye commented, taking in the colorful artwork that adorned the walls. “Oh, my God. Is that a Warhol?”

Gregor smiled and seemed a little embarrassed by his own good fortune. “Yeah,” he said casually, stroking his chin. “I bought it during my art phase. I’ve been thinking of selling it.”

“It’s fantastic,” Faye said, marveling at the painting—and the whole place.

“I’ll keep it, then,” Gregor said.

“Do you mind showing me to my room? I’m a little tired,” Faye said, suppressing a yawn.

“Of course,” Gregor said, snapping to attention. “Right this way.”

Faye followed Gregor down the hallway and into a small bedroom. When he flicked on the lights, she saw a comfortable room painted white, with a beautiful area rug. There were colorful pillows on the bed and a small writing desk with a stool next to it.

“This should have everything you need. The loo’s through there.” He gestured to a door leading to a private bathroom. “Can I make you something? You must be starving.”

“I think I’m just going to take a shower and crawl into bed,” she said, plopping down on the fluffy white comforter. Then, thinking she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea—or did she—she quickly stood up. “Thanks so much for having me in your home. It’s really lovely.”

“Anything you need, I’m just down the hall,” Gregor said chivalrously. The two stood in awkward silence until Gregor cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” he said, smiling at her as he shut the door behind him.

Faye stood there staring at the door for a beat and then lay down on the bed, this time breathing out a heavy sigh. It was exhausting, trying to look good in front of someone for that amount of time. She decided to take a long, hot shower and then get into bed and sleep for a very long time. She could worry about the interview tomorrow.

After doing some quick unpacking into the chest of drawers and reveling in a steamy, hot shower, Faye slipped into her pajamas—a pair of tiny shorts and matching camisole covered in pink and red flowers. Noticing her phone, she saw there were a few text messages from Bev, asking how things were going and reminding Faye how important the story was for the magazine.

Faye understood why Bev was so concerned. With so much digital content available, magazines like Amuse Bouche really had to go the extra mile to grab readers’ attention. It didn’t help that three of their sister magazines had folded in the past two years. The pressure was on to deliver.

She also noticed there was a voice message from her mother. Faye had sent her a quick text, letting her know she’d be out of the country, and of course her mother had called her back and left several messages. She made a mental note to give her a call the next morning.

Faye took a cursory glance at her Facebook feed and noticed that David had posted a picture of himself with a group of friends at the beer garden. Even though her sister and friends had advised she unfollow him, Faye couldn’t bring herself to do it. But they were right, it was torture, looking through his pictures, wondering if he was having more fun without her…

Faye clicked off the page and placed her phone, face down, on the nightstand.

But just as she was about to slip into the comfort of her bed, she felt her stomach growl. Deciding to head into the kitchen to see if there was any food, she opened the door to her room and slowly made her way down the hall. She turned the corner and saw there was a light on. Peeking her head around the corner, she watched for a moment as Gregor stood at the counter. He had on a T-shirt and lounge pants and looked even sexier than he had on the plane.

“Hey,” Faye said, walking into the room. “We were thinking about the same thing!”

“Were we? I wasn’t sure,” Gregor said, raising an eyebrow at her.

Faye pointed to the ingredients strewn across the counter. “The food,” she said, moving next to Gregor and looking more closely at what he was making. Then, throwing caution to the wind, she decided to make a huge confession. “Remember what you said on the plane? About my sex life? Well, you were right.”

Gregor stopped what he was doing and gave Faye his full attention.

“The thing is, I just don’t think I like sex anymore,” she said, running a hand through her long blond hair. “At least, I didn’t think I ever would again. Until earlier today.”

Gregor’s eyes lit up with desire and he moved toward her with laser focus.

“Wait,” she said, holding out her hand when he was almost close enough to touch her. “I’m not sure we should do this. Even if it would be fun…”

Gregor put his hands around her waist and just when it looked like he was about to kiss her, he instead spoke directly into the side of her neck. She could feel the gentle bristle of his facial hair on her skin as he moved his lips.

“I just want you to feel pleasure,” he whispered, his breath hot on her neck.

Faye nearly melted, her skin tingling in anticipation of that pleasure, but she somehow managed to maintain her composure.

“I’m a journalist, working on a story,” she said, reminding Gregor of her creed. Or was she really trying to remind herself? She knew there was something she had learned in school about reporters needing to remain clearheaded, which was at the moment impossible to do, as Gregor planted openmouthed kisses along her neck.

“Wait,” Faye said, breaking away from Gregor and trying hard to catch her breath. “I can’t get involved with my subject. It’s unethical.”

“Is that really what you’re concerned about?” Gregor said, pushing Faye’s curtain of long blond hair behind her ear and looking directly in her eyes. Faye could see that this had been true all of his life. He was used to getting whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it. But not this time.

“I never get involved with my subjects. It’s my personal policy,” Faye said, steeling herself. Every inch of her body was pulling toward this man’s touch, but her mind held her back. Just as she was about to turn and head back to her room, his voice called her back.

“Wait,” he said. “What if it’s just about me showing you one of my skills? For your article.”

Faye couldn’t help but be intrigued. “And what skill is that?”

As an answer, Gregor pushed all of the utensils and ingredients off the countertop and easily lifted Faye onto it so that she was seated directly in front of him. She could feel the cool sensation of the marble against the parts of her buttocks that were exposed by her shorts. She breathed in deeply and kept eye contact with Gregor as he moved in close enough to kiss her, but then knelt down, looping his fingers into the elastic waistband and lifting her up slightly as he removed her shorts. Once he had undressed her, he simply stood there, admiring the beauty of her femininity.

Faye wasn’t used to being so exposed. Any previous action she’d ever partaken in with other partners was pretty much relegated to under the covers. But in that moment, having it all out there made her feel powerful and sexy. It also didn’t hurt that Gregor was looking at her with the most intense, lustful stare she’d ever witnessed.

As he began kissing the insides of her thighs, she grasped the edge of the counter to steady herself. What was this man doing to her—and why was he so good at it? she wondered. She admitted to herself that as soon as she heard she was interviewing Gregor, she had hoped there would be a spark between them. But if anyone had told her he would be pleasuring her on his kitchen counter, she definitely would not have believed it.

It was the same place he had probably prepared countless meals for dignitaries and celebrity friends, and now he was making a meal of her, hungrily biting at the soft flesh of her thighs, his fingers only lightly grazing across her most intimate area. It was this withholding that made her want his touch even more.

Faye groaned—it was an animalistic noise, begging for Gregor to put her out of her misery and give her the warm, tingly feeling she had gone without for too long. Gregor responded by pressing his mouth over her honeypot and flicking his tongue persistently over her clitoris. Faye threw back her head, her long hair trailing down her back as she closed her eyes and gave in to the feeling Gregor was bestowing upon her.

Coming in front of your interview subject seemed like the wrong thing to do, but Faye couldn’t stop herself. As Faye felt herself begin to tremble, she raked her fingers through Gregor’s hair, which she’d been wanting to touch ever since they had met and cried out, making a sound that came from somewhere deep in her belly. Pulling him toward her, she reached her climax and then teetered there for a few moments, her body quivering against his mouth. When she finally came down, he looked up at her with a satisfied smile.

Faye wasn’t sure what she expected to happen next—was he going to fuck her right there on the kitchen counter? Or maybe bring her back to his bedroom and make love to her for the rest of the night? She had no idea.

But instead of taking off his own pants, which Faye would have been highly curious to see, Gregor simply reached up and planted a sweet kiss on her forehead.

“Sleep well,” he said before turning and retreating to his own bedroom.