Hooked Up: Book 3 (6 page)

I got up and tiptoed to the bathroom. That’s right! My suitcase was still outside the door (I hoped) –everything was dropped (including my mind) when I saw his green gaze and his drop-dead gorgeous body, which had broken into my apartment, no less!
Pearl Robinson, you are a disaster!

I peed and washed my hands before going to find my abandoned case, which I wheeled inside. I went back to the bathroom and ran the shower faucet. So preoccupied was I last night with the vision of Alexandre and my lusty appetite that I didn’t even have time to appreciate the lovely and sleek modern furnishings of my new apartment. It was all cream and white, with soft carpets and smooth silk curtains. It looked like a five star hotel: a place where you wouldn’t call home, but where you’d lounge about in pure luxury, wishing it were yours. It was too perfect to call home—too sleek. The bathroom all pale Italian marble, with his and hers wash basins and a massive mirror. Uh oh, inspection time. I had definitely lost weight through nerves, despite my Jelly Belly binge.

I jumped into the hot, steamy shower and lathered away at my hair and body with some delicious vanilla-scented shampoo and body wash. Did Alexandre organize all this? As I was exiting the shower all wet, there he was. He’d been watching me like a Peeping Tom. I knew because his boner told me so.

“Beautiful. Just beautiful,” he said, running his tongue along his lower lip. “You’ve lost a little weight, though.”

“I guess you were so busy fucking me you didn’t notice that last night,” I remarked, bitterly angry with myself, knowing that I was going to give into him all over again.

“Oh, I notice everything Pearl. Everything. Like how tight and wet you were last night. How much you needed me inside you. Bend over.”

“No! I won’t.”

“Don’t be disobedient. Bend over. I just want to see how much weight you’ve lost.”

“Alexandre!”

“Bend over and touch your toes.”

Here we go again.
A pool of desire gathered in my stomach.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
I bent over. Actually, the stretch to my backbone after the hot shower felt good.

He came up behind me, and I felt his erection press up against my ass. His thumbs parted my butt crack and he got down on his knees. I sensed his tongue lashing in great sweeps up and down and then flickering at my opening, and the soft hair on his head tickling my inner thighs. I could hear myself moan involuntarily. He’d got me again.

He stood up. Then the slapping began, his cock walloping my entrance. He guided it with his hand so it teased me. He pulled away. Then suddenly, I felt a hard slap right in my hot spot with his palm. It stung. I cried out in shock.

“What are you doing?”

“A little spank, that’s all. You hurt my feelings, Pearl, when you ran off at Van Nuys Airport.”

I was dreaming again.
Please no. Please don’t say this is all a goddamn dream and that, in fact, I’m still fast asleep on the plane in First Class.
“Pinch me,” I told him.

“What?”

“Pinch me hard. I want to know I’m not dreaming.”

He pinched me and it hurt. Almost. But seconds later, I felt the urge. The urge to be claimed again. “I need you, Alexandre,” I panted, sticking my butt out farther.

“I know you do. Hold on to something. I have to fuck you again, Pearl.”

I was still doubled over and I held onto the edge of the bathtub. I was sore inside, yet I still wanted more.
What is wrong with me? Why am I such a pushover?

He cupped my breasts with both hands, kneading and playing with my nipples. Desire shot through the back of my molar teeth—all connected: my groin, my mouth, my nipples. I jutted my ass out towards his erection. With one hand tight around my waist he pushed his cock inside me, but just an inch. I heard my wetness ooze about him and I cried out like the little slut that I was.
Even if I have to share Alexandre with Laura, I’d rather do that than not have him at all
, I decided. I was so hooked on him and his body parts I couldn’t deny him. He was my drug.

And he knew it, too.

He started with shallow thrusts, just sliding in an inch or two, but it was so huge that even just a little of him was a stretch. Then he took it all the way out and slapped it on my clit, fucking my clit so it was being rubbed up and down. Then he jabbed at my entrance again, without entering. I was screaming now.

“Ssh, baby, we don’t want the neighbors to hear.”

He pushed inside me again and tweaked my nipples between his thumb and index finger, rhythmically pumping me but still hardly entering. Then he rammed it all the way in. Hard. Then pulled back out. Again, just the tiny thrusts. I was whimpering. He was unpredictable. I didn’t know if I’d get the whole plunge or not. And then, as if by perfect osmosis, just as I brought my own hand up to pressure my clit, he thrusts once more all-in, deep from behind, and I felt myself coming in a burst of unbelievable pleasure, his thick cock pushing out against my walls, filling me with tingling spasms as I contracted all around him like one of those fly-eating plants, sucking him in, eating him whole. He stilled his movements, and I really sensed his swelling inside me, which made me come even harder. Then I felt his own release, hot and quiet as he groaned gently with hushed arousal, his fingers exploring my butt, snaking them up around my waist that he gripped harder as he burst inside me.

“I love you, Pearl. You’re my treasure. I love you and I always will.” Then he cried out with another hard thrust, “Fuck you make me come hard . . . can’t keep away from you. Gotta keep fucking you for the rest of my life. Is your wedding gown ready yet?”

S
O THERE PEARL WAS, about to leave London and brave the world all on her own. But after what Sophie had told me, I felt hopeful.

Thanks to the private jet company I used (yes, I was really green, really ecological with my great, big, black, carbon footprint), I got back to New York ahead of Pearl and in time to organize a few things.

I had several boxes of groceries delivered, with everything essential for life in a new apartment, and stocked up the fridge with food. The place was perfect for Pearl; two bedrooms, a smart marble bathroom. Pre-war, but sleekly furnished in neutral colors, and with all the mod cons. However, I was now kicking myself. I wanted her to come back home where she belonged: to
my
apartment.

I waited patiently, making a few business calls in between checking her whereabouts. She had arrived at JFK. My driver would be there to collect her but with strict instructions not to let her know that I was the one who sent him—
let her believe it’s Sophie.

I wanted to take her by surprise when she came home. Make it so she couldn’t say no.

An hour or two later, I heard the key turn in the lock, and I quickly opened the door. Pearl fell into me, landing in my waiting arms, surprised as hell, obviously mistaking me for a rapist or a burglar—and I thought for a second,
That’s me, the burglar who wants to rob her independence, steal her for myself
. And a rapist, because all I had been thinking about was fucking her, despite my conscience telling me it was wrong, that she wouldn’t be ready, that if I’d been a “good” person sex would have been the last thing on my mind.

My emotions spilled out of my mouth in a torrent. I could feel my nose burning as my eyes misted. She looked so beautiful; her blonde hair mussed up, her cheeks glowing from the cold night. I gathered her tightly in my arms, bringing her close to my chest and kissed the top of her head to hide my face. I didn’t want her to see my wet eyes. Her hair smelled so sweet—I breathed her in. My savior, my life.

“Get off me!” she screamed as she struggled from beneath my amorous grip. “What kind of game are you playing, Alexandre Chevalier? You’re with Laura now!”

Her words were daggers. “No, baby. No! I love
you.”

“Why are you torturing me? Leave me alone.”

I couldn’t help myself. I started to kiss her ravenously, licking her lips, forcing my way in; anything to quell her suspicions, to wipe Laura from her mind. My cock was rock-hard against her belly, pounding in my pants. I loved Pearl but my insatiable need for her after being apart for so long was overwhelming. “Please baby, believe me, I am so
not
with Laura.”

“Don’t lie! I saw you entering her front door! I saw you with my own eyes!” Pearl pushed me away, rapping her fists against my chest.

I quietly closed the front door. Her suitcase was still outside, but I feared the whole building would be woken with the noise. For the next few minutes the banter continued; Pearl’s accusations and my defense. Yet I could hardly concentrate on the conversation: my eyes hooded with longing, my groin raging. All I wanted was for us to fuck and forget this Laura nonsense, but I had to calm Pearl down first. I could see it in her eyes, too—she wanted me urgently but her head was telling her to protect her heart. Yet, right now, her heart was telling her to make love to me. I could read it in her gaze, her tweaked nipples. She was hungry for me. Fucking ravenous.

I stepped close to her again and took her flailing wrists. “Pearl, my darling—please, please let’s just be close. I’ve missed you like crazy.”

“Bullshit! You haven’t even called me!”

“I did call you. Today, actually, but your cell was switched off.”

“Big deal!
Finally,
after all this time making me suffer, making me plan my life without you, you call. You call when you feel like a fuck! You want to be with Laura but you’re using me. For sex. Laura was right, you’re only in ‘lust’ with me—all your marriage talk was bullshit.”

Yeah, a waiting jet and a huge rock of a ring is bullshit.
I realized this Laura thing had taken over her mind. Not letting her see coherently. “NO! Pearl, I
do
want to marry you.”

“Oh, so you can have little wifey waiting for you at home while you go off and have affairs! I’m not that kind of girl, Alexandre. Maybe there are plenty of women out there who would stand that kind of marriage for the luxuries you can provide with all your money, but I don’t
care
how rich you are! I just want a faithful husband; a man who sees
only
me.” Her eyes flashed like warning lights, the blue a deep, glimmering ultramarine.

I kissed her hand. I dared not do more; her wrath was impressive, her fire blazing. “I only see
you,
Pearl, I swear. It’s been hell for me. I’ve missed you like crazy. I’ve been obsessing about you, night and day. Going around with a hard-on for two weeks—please calm me down, chérie—I feel like an animal. I need you. I need you baby.” Bad little speech that one. It made her rage all the more—it sounded as if I only wanted her for sex. The whole ‘books in the box’ saga was dredged up. More explanations while Pearl raised her eyebrows at me with suspicion and disdain. I explained the gift-wrapped box, the fact that I’d gone to Provence first, and why I hadn’t sent it by mail. I finally thought I’d won her over. But no.

Not even close.

“That doesn’t explain how Laura knew so much about me. She said you’d called me a “loony with a slutty past.” Pearl pushed me away again and tossed her head in disgust. “You told Laura my secrets, things about my private life. About Alessandra, because Laura just happened to know
everything!”

I had been able to explain my movements and reasons up until now, but not this. How
did
Laura have all that information? Sophie hadn’t spoken to her, and Elodie didn’t know that stuff. I thought back. Had Elodie listened in on one of my private conversations with Pearl? No.
How the fuck did Laura know all this?
The argument between Pearl and me went on, back and forth. Pearl not believing me. A bolt of rage shot through me.

I shouted, “I don’t fucking
know
how Laura knew that stuff, but I
love
you, I want to marry you and I don’t want Laura fucking well
near
me! You
have
to believe me!” I roared so loudly that the sound echoed through the fresh, newly decorated apartment.

Finally Pearl was silent. The drama had appeased her. I saw her breathing was erratic, her lips parted and her gaze flicked down to my crotch and then to my eyes.
Her look said, Please just fuck me—I can’t take this mistrust.
Make-up sex. I couldn’t wait a second more. I had to get my tailored pants off—my dick was wedged uncomfortably beneath the fine wool fabric like a massive steel rod. I closed in on Pearl, pinioning her wrists above her head with one hand as I slowly unzipped her jeans with the other. She let me, as she nipped her bottom lip between her teeth and moaned quietly. I eased my hand inside her panties and felt her oozing moisture trapped there, waiting to explode.

I growled into her mouth as I kissed her, my fingers entering her liquid warmth, “That’s it, no more drama games, Pearl—you want this as much as I do.”

I gathered her in my arms, carried her into the bedroom and threw her on the bed. Being a gentleman was not the first thing on my mind in that moment. The scene that ensued was hectic, wild, both of us like savage beasts. We ripped off our respective clothing, both acting like a pair of jungle cats in heat. Pearl spread herself out like a starfish—libidinous—on the bed. I lay on top of her, no time to lose. But ever the little actress, she then squeezed her thighs together, trying not to let me enter her, meanwhile kissing me frantically, her slick pool beckoning me to stretch her wide open. She wanted me to ravage her. Play the dominant.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want this,” I said, my hips pumping into her as I fucked her dripping wet clit. “You want me to despoil your tight little pussy?” The crown of my cock was going to detonate any second. I kept the rhythm up, sliding my length up and down her slit, the pressure of her tight, worked-out thighs like vices around my dick, not letting me in. This game was really arousing me—Pearl’s thighs squeezing the sides of my cock as she whimpered and moaned beneath me.

“Oh baby, fucking you is like flying on a cloud straight to Heaven.” I grabbed the mane of her hair as I fucked that nub relentlessly until she couldn’t hold out any longer—she opened her thighs and I slipped right in. Deep. Cramming her full.
Oh fuck!