33. Aspen
Chapter 33
Aspen
“ H i,” Grey says into the phone in a hilariously high-pitched, valley-girl voice. “I’d like to report a celebrity sighting.”
I can hear a man’s voice say something on the other end of the paparazzi line our PR management teams gave us, but I can’t make out the words. Of course, Grey and I would likely be found by paparazzi eventually anyway, but we figured we’d just cut to the chase. I didn’t lie when I said Meeko is good on a leash, but she’s never been walking for more than about an hour at a time.
“Mm-hmm,” Grey trills. “I was just driving through Calabasas and I totally passed Aspen Jordan and that James Bond guy just walking down the street.”
The man says something else, the line crackling.
“Umm,” Grey draws out the word in true So-Cal style. “They were on Park Granada, headed to Calabasas Road. It looks like maybe they’re going to the Commons? I don’t know.”
Another reply from the other side of the call.
“Yeah, totally. Get there fast before they drop into a store or something. Mm-hmm. You too. Bye.”
He hangs up the phone then turns to me from the passenger side of my parked car. “How’d I do?” he asks.
“You sounded unbearably annoying.”
“Perfect. Ready to go?”
“Yeah,” I say, double checking that Meeko’s harness and leash are secure before exiting the vehicle. I gently set Meeko down on the pavement and, like the good leash-trained cat she is, she looks up at me, waiting for me to move before she does. Usually I put her in little booties, but I knew that would be pushing Grey too far today. Luckily, it’s an overcast October day, so the pavement isn’t too hot for her bare paws.
The breeze carries that uniquely smoky, leaf-like smell that comes with autumn. A few kids are riding their bikes on the sidewalk ahead of us, heading in the same direction Grey and I will go, toward the shops. Just as I start to feel sentimental about the simple things in life, like fresh fall air and a good cat, two mothers walk side-by-side, pushing beige, ultra-cushy strollers that probably cost thousands of dollars each. Yep, back to Calabasas reality.
In my periphery, I see a plainclothes Edgar, my security guard, hopping out of a black Escalade. Because the paparazzi will attract a lot of attention, I thought it would be best that he come along—just to be safe. Thankfully, though, Edgar is good about keeping his distance with things like this, so he won’t have any idea what Grey and I are really up to on the walk.
Grey joins me on the sidewalk by my side of the car, his dark curls blowing slightly in the wind, reminding me of one of those photoshoots where they set up the fan to make your hair voluminous. But, of course, Grey doesn’t need the extra effects—he just looks that good all the time.
Then my eyes move to his fist, which I know contains a certain remote control. “Go easy on me with that thing,” I whisper.
“I will,” he promises as we set off down the sidewalk toward the Commons, a large shopping area. It’s about a five-minute walk until we get there.
“See how good Meeko is on a leash?” I ask as Meeko, now knowing our direction, takes the lead, happily sauntering in front of us.
“She is good,” he affirms. Then I feel a gentle buzzing in my underwear. This time I was expecting it, though, so it’s not too bad. Honestly, I could probably just tune this out too. It’s not too strong.
“You’re all good?” Grey asks.
“Perfect,” I reply. “How long until you think the paparazzi shows up?”
“Three minutes, max. Realistically, it’s been about two minutes since I called, and since they’re always trolling this area anyway, I can’t imagine it would take more than five minutes total.”
“Wow, that’s a very detailed answer.”
He shrugs, then stops the vibration. “You asked. Speaking of, I think we can stop this until they get here. I don’t want to spoil the fun before the cameras are out.”
“I think you’re misjudging how quickly I can get off. It takes more than a few seconds with a low-speed vibrator.”
“My fingers seemed to get you off pretty quickly,” he says as though it’s the most casual thing in the world.
“Grey!”
“What? It’s true. But I’m not going to finger you right now, so don’t even think about asking, Jordan.”
“As if.”
“I recall you asking me in your trailer a few weeks ago to ‘ please, make you come .’”
“I don’t remember that at all,” I lie.
“So it was that good, eh? Your memory went all foggy?”
“Shut up. Look, there’s a black van coming our way, canvassing the area. They’re definitely looking for us.”
Grey lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, just as the van pulls into a nearby parking spot, apparently spotting us at the same time we spotted them. “In that case, enjoy your next few seconds of blissful chastity.”
A thrill of anticipation passes down my spine, right to the toy between my legs. “I’m actually looking forward to getting off. It’s more than you’ll get out of this date.”
“Something tells me I’m going to enjoy this as much as you are,” Grey answers as the van’s door opens.
As the paparazzi grab their camera gear and run toward us, the now-familiar low vibration begins again.
Grey and I continue walking Meeko, unbothered by the shouts of “Aspen, this way,” “why don’t you hold hands,” “show us some smiles, guys,” and “is that a cat on a leash?” Within a minute we’ve rounded a corner and the shopping center comes into view. As it does, the vibrator in my pants amps up a setting, making me inhale sharply.
Grey leans down so he can talk in my ear, softly enough that no one else will hear. “Not so confident now, are you?”
“I’m doing fine,” I reply, trying to tune out the pleasure I’m starting to feel.
Grey chuckles.
Instead, I try to focus on the other sensations around me, the sights and smells and sounds. The paparazzi are still tailing us, but now that we’re nearing the shops, the sidewalk is becoming busier. Naturally, people are turning their heads to see who the Calabasas celebrity sighting of the day is.
God, this toy is hard to tune out. Grey reaches for my hand and I let him hold it, another feeling to distract me.
As far as the shoppers go, they seem to be mostly middle-age, rich women bustling from store to store. We’re a hundred or so feet away from the closest shop now, which seems to be an athletic-wear shop. There are three mannequins in the nearest window, a man-mannequin wearing shorts and a loose-fitting tank, flanked by a woman-mannequin on either end, one in a skirt and bra top, the other in a tennis dress. Beside that is a home goods store with a living room set display.
The vibrator changes, skipping over the fastest speed and landing on the pulsing pattern. Jesus, I don’t know how much longer I can last. Walking is becoming so difficult, my legs feeling fuzzy, all they want to do is cross together, amplifying the feeling between them.
I grab Grey’s forearm with the hand not-in-his. “Grey,” I whisper breathily. “Let’s go into that furniture store,” I say.
Grey chuckles. “Looking to refresh your living room, Jordan?”
“Something like that.”
The truth is, I know the store won’t allow paparazzi to follow us in, and that Edgar will keep guard outside, which will allow for some semblance of privacy. Also, I’m praying there’s a private-enough corner where I can orgasm in peace. But we better find that corner quickly because I’m beginning to subtly sway my hips as I walk, trying to get as much friction as I can while in public. Well, that’s to say my body is trying. My brain is trying to ignore the fire forming in the pit of my stomach.
I begin to pick up the pace, speed-walking the last few yards to the store entrance. I don’t even wait for Grey to open the door for me, as I know he usually would, because I’m absolutely booking it with only one thing on my mind—privacy, privacy, privacy.
“Hi, welcome in,” the attendant says as I rush past, Grey following behind me at a leisurely pace, not a care in the world.
“Hi,” I reply to her as I walk past.
“Are you looking for anything specific today?” she asks.
“I think we’re just browsing,” Grey answers for me.
I’m already almost to the back wall of the store, my head on a swivel looking for a secluded area.
Luckily, I spot a tall dark wood bookshelf near the back and make a beeline for it. The bookshelf acts as a wall, so combined with the real back wall and real side wall, the area is closed off on three sides. There’s a spotted fur rug on the floor, two velvet barrel chairs against the side wall, and a coffee table in the center of the faux-room. It’s not private by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s the best I’ve got right now.
As Grey joins me, his body practically walls off the fourth side. I swear, the guy’s like a boulder. Then I realize that at some point he turned the vibrator back down to the lowest setting. But it doesn’t matter. The pleasure may have stopped rising, but it definitely hasn’t decreased any, either.
“You’re looking a little flushed, Jordan,” Grey notes.
“I can’t imagine why,” I reply, crossing my legs, still standing.
Grey approaches me slowly, putting his hands on my waist. “Want me to turn it back up?” he asks.
“Yes, please,” I respond breathily, placing my hand around the back of his neck, bringing his mouth down over mine.
“Always so polite.” He chuckles before our lips meet.
I moan softly into his mouth as he brings the toy back up to a higher speed. In response, Grey moves his lips a fraction of an inch away from mine to say, “No, none of that. We can’t have everyone knowing what we’re up to, right?”
I nod before meeting his lips again, my hands now clawing into his shoulder as the pleasure builds within me. It takes everything in me not to make any more noises when I’m seconds away from climaxing. Then I realize it’s futile, and I bring my mouth from his lips to his shoulder, biting down slightly to muffle the noises that begin slipping out. One of Grey’s hands finds my waist and the other grabs my ass, pulling me tighter against him.
I take this as a sign that I can finally let go and give myself over to the waves of pleasure begging to wash over me. I try my best to be mindful of volume as the euphoric feeling spreads through my body, from my core to the tips of my fingers and toes, reaching my head in its crescendo. A heady feeling overtakes me while the toy continues its steady rhythm, allowing me to fully ride out my climax before the sensation finally subsides, leaving me feeling overstimulated from the continuing vibrations.
Wordlessly, Grey stops the toy, perfectly in-tune with my body.
“You did so well, Jordan,” he speaks lowly into my ear. “You hardly made any noise at all. I don’t think anyone noticed.”
“Really?” I ask, moving my head to rest in the crook of his neck.
“Really.”
Then I remember that we’re supposed to be on a walk with Meeko, not having a secret love-fest in the back corner of a store. Oh God, I hope they don’t have cameras in here. I didn’t even think of that.
I take a step back from Grey, looking for Meeko, who’s lounging on the carpet a few feet away, staring at me. I might be reading into things, but I could swear there’s judgment in her eyes, as if she knows what we just did—in public, no less.
I pick her leash up off the floor—which unsurprisingly dropped from my hand with all that was going on—and she stands up.
“Time to head back then?” I ask,
“Yeah, I think we got what we came for,” he teases.
“I did, at least,” I reply in kind.
“Oh, I did too.”