Mag-log in
Huling Na-update:
2022-03-12 18:34:46I stabbed a piece of lettuce with a force it didn’t deserve. “Merde,” I muttered.
George smirked. “Most know bonjour as their primarily used French word. Of course my woman knows merde.”
“You taught me it.” I chewed slowly. “It’s an easy word to remember.”
I placed my fork down beside my plate and ignored his lowered chuckle. My eyes sco
EpilogueFour Months Later“No, no, no!” I dropped my forehead to the table. “Why is this so hard for them to get right? Champagne and ivory are not the same color. The seat sashes are supposed to be champagne, not fucking ivory!”Brenda patted my shoulder. “There, there, Bridezilla. You have three months still to chew their asses out until they get it right.”“Brenda, with the amount George is paying them to get it right, I shouldn’t have to be chewing asses.” I sighed and straightened again. “This is crazy. Why can’t we just elope in some tropical country and get married without all this fancy crap?”My best friend laughed and shut the laptop down. “Okay, babe. Let’s get you a drink. You and I both know you wouldn’t want to have this any other way.”“I know. I just… I
I was not getting it out of him no matter how hard I tried. I knew he wouldn’t give anything away until he was good and ready, so I was stuck sitting here in my awkward limbo until he did. Stuck here, wondering, waiting, what-iffing.Our plates were cleared away and replaced with our main course. Again, it was eaten in silence, our eyes flitting from our plates to each other’s. The only difference was that there was a zinging of tension, one tight enough to cut, and I swallowed hard. My fork clattered as I placed it against my plate and looked at him firmly.“Do you want dessert?” he asked innocently, his steady voice betraying the tightness between us.“No. I want to know what this is.”“This? It’s dinner in the Eiffel Tower, sweetheart.”“No. What is it? Why are you doing it?”Geo
He prodded me in the side. “I think I found desires you weren’t aware of over the last few days.”Ah, this much wass true. Who knew having sex in front of a large bay window in the middle of the day was so fun?“I was very much aware of them. They’d just never been satisfied before now.”“They’ll continue to be satisfied, too.”“I should hope so.”He laughed quietly, burying his face into my neck. “Sit up. Let me wash your hair.”I did as he said, and he grabbed the showerhead from the little holder I placed it in for easy reach. When the water was the right temperature, I leaned my head back and let him wet my hair.“Ivan’s coming back to Seattle in a few weeks.”“He is?”“Hmm. He said he’ll call you to arra
“Again?”“Mhmm.”“Oh no.” I wrestled myself from him. “No, no, no!”I laughed, running through the apartment. And as I slammed the office door shut behind me, I realized my mistake.You never run from someone willing to stalk you until he can catch you.“Gina.” He hummed my name through the door. “Do I need to break the door down?”“That’s a habit for you.”“Open the fucking door. The longer you keep me waiting out here, the harder I’ll have to fuck you.”Oh, silly, silly man. When will he realized that, that was not a bad thing at all?I giggled and tapped out a random beat on the door. Truth was, I had no intention of letting George Stone fuck me right now.I planned to sit him on that fancy-ass leather chair an
“We are?” “Yes. You’re wearing my shirt again, and I believe it was some six hours ago I was promising to fuck you on my desk, so I suggest you get your ass into my office and hop up onto that desk pronto.” “You’re getting more demanding by the day, Mr. Stone.” I added some extra wiggle to my hips as I walked, and I was rewarded by a low growl of pleasure behind me. And punished with a sharp smack on my ass. “I never said anything about a demand. I’m requiring you get on my damn desk. Now move.” *** “Thank you.” George took a large envelope from someone and closed the door behind him. I watched from my slouched position on the sofa as he pulled a letter opener from the kitchen drawer and sliced the letter open. Because who doesn’t keep one of those in their kitchen?
It was ten in the morning and George still wasn’t up.That alone told me how much yesterday tired him. He was incapable of sleeping past six. Crazy man.I rocked my head from side to side. If I had any idea exactly what he was doing last night, I’d go into his office and finish it. As it was, I had no idea, so all I can was sit there like a freaking orange waiting to be juiced.I couldn’t read because my concentration wouldn’t last beyond a page. I had done my Candy Crush and Coin Dozer thing, and if I saw one more whining status post on Facebook, I’ll do one of my own.The sound of a phone ringing in his office cut through the silence, and I paused. Oh hell.I jumped down and ran into the room, barely blinking at the name on screen before answering. “Hello?”“Hello? Gi
