Seduce Me Forever (Seduce Me #4) (5 page)

BOOK: Seduce Me Forever (Seduce Me #4)
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Chapter Eleven

 

The French Riviera was gorgeous. We were still recovering from jet lag, albeit jet lag from traveling on Brandon's private jet, so we were lounging on the deck of
Jacqueline III,
the Davenport family yacht. Well, one of them. The yacht they kept in Europe. They had others in the Caribbean, California, and the Hamptons.

It was hard for me to get used to all of the luxury. I know that may sound strange, but I grew up very middle class. We had everything we needed and enough of what we wanted. But we only saw toys like the Davenport yachts in the distance when we would go to the beach on South Padre Island. Yet, here I was sunning myself on the deck of
Jacqueline III
in the French Riviera. Pinch me.

The only view better than the Mediterranean Sea and French coast was Brandon in his Speedo. All the horrifying images of middle-aged, overweight, men sporting one were easily erased when Brandon appeared on deck. Yes, some men were made to wear a Speedo. Other men, definitely not. Brandon, without a doubt, was in the made to wear one category.

In fact, if there hadn't already been the Speedo, they would invent it just so Brandon could wear it. He looked that good in it. His deliciously toned, hard ass in back and marvelous bulge in front. Need I say more?

“What a beautiful day,” he said as he peeled his t-shirt off.
Oh my!
No matter how many times I saw him shirtless, it still made me breathless. I don't think I would ever tire of how amazing he looked. The physique of a Greek god.

“Warmer than usual this time of year,” he added as he slid a deck chair over near me. He kissed me on the cheek and plopped into his chair.

“It is so peaceful. I could just stay here forever,” I said.

“A nice start to our little get away.” Brandon took my hand in his.

“Most definitely.”

“Is that the same bikini from that picture on your Facebook page?” he asked looking me up and down.

“Yes,” I said with a smile. “I remembered how you said you liked the way I looked in it.”

“I believe I said that you 'rock' that bikini. And you do.”

“Thank you. I'm glad you still think so.”

It was my sexiest bikini. A Victoria's Secret Strappy Brazilian Bikini in 'date night' pink. I liked it because the top was flattering to my breasts and offered an enticing amount of cleavage. The bottoms were enough to cover my privates, but not much more. They were strappy so I was showing a considerable amount of my thighs.

“I think others will think so as well,” Brandon said rather nonchalantly.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, there is a good chance that a picture of you will end up in some of gossip rags. Print and online.”

“Why? I'm not famous. I could see the paparazzi snapping pictures of you with super models and movie stars, but not me.”

“Don't be so sure. I can see the headlines now 'Billionaire Playboy Brandon Mitchell with Sexy Mystery Woman',” he said with a grin.

“Stop. You are teasing.”

“Maybe that wouldn't be the headline, but sooner or later you and I will be news. As soon as they notice us together more than a few times in public.”

“Why didn't we make news before?”

“We did a few times. But press releases about your hire and development of the Digital and Social Media department deflected rumors. It was only a matter of time before they circled back around to ask questions. Especially when I wasn't spotted out and about with other women.”

“And now that we will be completely open about dating . . .”

“They will want to know everything about you.”

“Great,” I said with a sigh. “Not that I have anything to hide. It's just my background is pretty unremarkable. I don't think it will make for very interesting reading.”

“They'll find a way to make it interesting. Pretty creative folk at those gossip publications.”

I hadn't thought much about there being any public interest in me because I was dating Brandon. Which is crazy, of course, seeing as how I had a media degree and led a media department. Granted, I was in fashion media. But I should have known better.

Brandon could see the hamster wheel turning in my head. He patted me on the leg.

“Don't worry. A few pictures of us. A couple of stories. After a while there really won't be much to gossip about. Especially if we are open about dating. More likely we will get mentions in the society pages for attending different functions, charity work, that sort of thing,” he said reassuringly.

“I suppose. It's more that I didn't consider the fact that there would be any sort of media interest. I mean, duh.”

“Yes, you are a media maven. But a fashion media maven. Not a gossip media maven.”

“But I read them. At least in the checkout line at the grocery store.”

“Are you really going to dwell on this? Look around you.”

“You're right. What's on the agenda for today?”

“More of this. Some swimming. We can check out the beaches. You know, the French Riviera is famous for topless beaches.”

“Are you kidding me? After we just discussed ending up in gossip magazines. Yeah, just what I need, topless pictures of me popping up all over the Internet. Besides, I read that topless sunbathing is declining.”

“Perhaps. But not gone. Not yet.”

“Maybe not. But I will not be baring my breasts in public.”

“How about a private show later?”

“That, I can arrange. As long as there is a nice tip.”

“Oh, I've got a tip I can give you,” Brandon said as he glanced downward at his Speedo.

I lightly smacked his arm. “You're bad.”

“Yes. But it is so good when we are a little bad.”

He kissed me. I melted inside. I was enjoying Brandon's second chance.

Chapter Twelve

 

Brandon and I thoroughly enjoyed the first part of our vacation. Life on a yacht as you cruise the Mediterranean Sea off the coast of France is not a bad way to spend a week. It was a week of firsts for me.

First time to France. First time on a yacht. First time having sex on a yacht. Actually, I had my first, second, third, and fourth time having sex on a yacht. I was hoping there was more yacht sex in my future.

More yacht sex would have to wait for another time. Brandon and I traveled to Paris for the last part of our romantic French vacation. One that was turning out to be too short. But, to my delight, the best week Brandon and I had ever had together.

Brandon was sincere about making our relationship work. We were getting closer without any of the distractions of work or other obligations. The sex was also elevated to a whole other level. Mind-blowing and erotic as always, but also more sensual and intimate.

In Paris we were staying at the
Le Bristol Hotel,
one of Paris's finest 5-star hotels. As a bonus for me,
Le Bristol
was located in the fashion district. Brandon asked if I minded entertaining myself for a few hours while he worked out.

“I'm in Paris. The fashion district, no less. I suppose I can force myself to do a little shopping,” I had responded with a sly smile. Credit card in hand I was off.

I was walking along Rue Du Faubourg-Saint Honore. Designer showrooms featuring clothes, cosmetics and furnishings from Dior, Chanel, Gucci, and avaunt guard exclusive Paris girl boutiques all beckoned me. Nowhere, not even the iconic department stores in Manhattan, were window decorations taken so seriously. Each shop window seemed more attractive than the last.

I stopped in front of
Hermès
to admire a hand rolled, hot pink, 36” x 36”, silk scarf that would look fabulous worn as a blouse. It was 325 Euros. I figured that was about $445.
Why not?
, I thought to myself. I just received a substantial raise on top of an already great salary, and Brandon was paying for our vacation. I went into
Hermès and
exited twenty minutes later with the scarf and a few additional items.

I figured that Brandon should be done working out and probably back in our room showering. Brandon's impish smile and perfectly dimpled cheeks entered my stream of consciousness as I moved past
Hermès
. Dimpled cheeks on either side of two perfectly full lips located  above his rugged chin. In all, a classically handsome face.

Brandon Mitchell naked as hot, steamy water washes over his muscled body

Water streaming between his hard pecs, over his six-pack abs, and onto his . . .

“Excusez-moi, s'il vous plaît,” I heard a woman's voice say as she stepped around me.

“Excusez-moi,” I replied apologetically, realizing that I had stopped in the center of the busy sidewalk outside the
Le Bristol Hotel
. I had fantasy-walked my way back to the hotel.

As I entered the lobby, I was greeted by Fa-ron, the hotel's adorable Birman cat. He purred as I reached down to scratch his head. A bell hop offered to assist me with my shopping bags. I agreed and we headed toward my room.

As I opened the door to the room, I was greeted by the cozy atmosphere established by the subtle colors of high-quality fabrics, vintage prints on the walls, and Louis XV-style furniture. Brandon made certain that we had all the comfort and serenity that a Paris 5-star hotel had to offer. The bell hop placed my bags on the couch as I asked. I gave him a tip. He thanked me and left.

I kicked my shoes off and padded over to the window and looked down onto the flower-filled courtyard in full bloom. I was once again appreciating the fact that I was on a luxurious vacation to France. The bathroom door opened and Brandon stepped out. He looked devilishly handsome in his charcoal gray dress slacks, a light blue dress shirt, red tie, and navy blue blazer. The same outfit, minus the tie, he had worn on our first dinner in New York at
Tavern on the Green
.

That night I had worn a black, above the knee, skirt and pink blouse. I had a similar skirt with me in my luggage. I decided I would pair it with the scarf-as-blouse that I had just purchased at
Hermès.

“You look very handsome,” I commented as I kissed Brandon on the cheek. “Why don't you go down to the Le Bar du Bristol for a drink while I shower and get dressed.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

Brandon headed downstairs and I got ready for dinner. I needed a little help from a YouTube video to figure out how to wear the scarf as a blouse, but it was worth it. I loved the way it fit me. I knew Brandon would as well. I grabbed my purse and headed to meet up with him.

As I stepped off the elevator into the lobby, I could see Brandon with a group of children playing with Fa-ron. “I would have taken you as a dog person,” I said as I approached where Fa-ron was holding court with the human guests of
Le Bristol
.

Brandon turned toward me and his eyes widened.

“You look absolutely stunning, Ms. Sullivan,” he said as he kissed me lightly on the cheek.  While discrete, he was nevertheless undressing me with his eyes.

“Thank you. Just a little something I picked up today.”

“Excellent choice. Shall we go?” asked Brandon as he took me by the hand.

“So, where are you escorting me to dinner Mr. Mitchell?”

“L'Abeille.  Named in homage to Napoleon's favorite emblem, the bee, it is a French gastronomic restaurant that offers sophisticated cuisine in an enchanting atmosphere. It  promises to reveal new emotions in aesthetics and flavors through hallmarks of culinary excellence including exceptional products and technique.”

“How long did it take you to memorize that?” I asked playfully.

“Pardon?”  Brandon replied in his best French accent.

“Just tell me, web site or travel guide?”

Brandon laughed.

“Busted.  L'Abeille's website. But I did already know that it is a two Michelin-starred restaurant,” he said.

“Good for you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek.

L'Abeille
was located at lobby level of the
Shangri-La
hotel. I wondered if the hotel's name was a foreshadow of things to come. 

As we entered
L’Abeille
we couldn't help but take in the history of the 1892 mansion that is the current day hotel and restaurant. Walking past the l’Escalier d’Honneur, the Staircase of Honour, we were in the very intimate restaurant. It opened onto a private garden that was pure luxury in one of the most expensive parts of Paris.

“This is lovely,” I said.

“As are you,” replied Brandon kissing my hand.

The host showed us to our table and left us with our menus. When our waiter came we ordered; both passing on frog, and settling for seafood dishes. We ate, drank fine wine, and conversed easily. The setting was elegant and romantic.

“I know a great cafe along the Seine, not far from the Pont des Arts. Great dessert and then a short walk to a fabulous view,” said Brandon after we finished dinner.

“Lead the way.”

Brandon paid our check and we were off for the next part of what was already a wonderful evening.

After the most amazing crème brûlée, Brandon and I were gazing adoringly at the Pont des Arts and a panorama of Ile de la Cite, Notre Dame, the Louvre, and the city lights reflecting off the river Seine.
This is the most romantic moment of my life

A tremor of sensual pleasure coursed through my body as Brandon put his arms around me and drew me close. I breathed in the aroma of his cologne and let it dance in the night air. Every one of my senses was drawn to him as I became enveloped by his presence. He was intoxicating and I surrendered to scintillating passion.

He gently lifted my chin. As we gazed into each others eyes, he pressed his lips to mine. 

Our moist, supple lips fit perfectly together. He placed his right hand against my lower back and pulled me tight into him. His strong, athletic body emanated sexual desire.

Our lips parted enough so he could gently work his tongue into my mouth. I wrapped my arms around his strong neck and pulled myself closer – I didn't want any space between us.

Brandon slid his hand down over my ass and gave it a light, erotic squeeze. He was arousing every sensual desire within me. He gently pulled his head back, lightly kissed my mouth, then slowly and seductively worked his way down my neck. His hot breath and moist lips sent shock waves through my body and straight to my loins.

Brandon whispered, “You are so incredibly sexy. I have never wanted a woman the way I want you now.”

His words were hypnotic and I was filled with an intense longing that was begging for him to take me right there at the Pont des Arts. I kicked off my shoes and climbed onto him, wrapping my legs around his waist.

A couple walked past us arm-in-arm and another stopped thirty yards from us to take in the view.
Damn. 

I was back to reality and
e
xacerbated at my turn in fortune. I hopped down from my perch around Brandon's waist and bent over and picked up my shoes. I then pushed myself up on my toes and gave Brandon a quick kiss on the lips. 

As I replaced the shoes on my feet, I glanced up at Brandon and he had that impish grin on his face and twinkle in his eye.

“What?” I asked.

“Let's go back to the hotel.” 

BOOK: Seduce Me Forever (Seduce Me #4)
2.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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