Chapter 30
THIRTY
Avery
It was the week before Christmas—the first time I’d truly allowed myself to think about the party Cat was furiously, and undoubtedly flawlessly, pulling together.
Over the past couple of weeks, between the silly fight Jim and I had landed ourselves in and, of course, Jim breaking the internet, I’d forced myself to focus solely on what mattered: my family.
But now, things were starting to get real again. Cat had called me first thing this morning, insisting I come see the set she’d “magically” finished. I didn’t know what to expect, but knowing her, it would exceed all imagination.
“Is there a reason I’m unable to see your Paramount venue?” Jim asked, dragging his razor in a perfect line along his jaw.
I watched him rinse the blade and go back to work with that quiet precision of his. God help me, I wanted to jump him right then. Something about a man shaving oddly did funny things to me.
“Have we ever had sex while you were shaving?” I asked, popping my lips after glossing them.
He smiled at me through the mirror over his sink, opposite my vanity, where I was finishing my makeup.
He’d just rinsed the blade, water running over the edge of the sink, when something about the sight of him—his bare chest flexed, jaw sharp from the fresh shave—hit me hard and deep, and I wasn’t about to try and ignore any of it.
“Avoiding the question, Mrs. Mitchell?” he teased, one brow arched.
God, this man was turning me on in ways I couldn’t explain right now. I swear, something had changed after that damn fire-and-ice therapy because I couldn’t get enough of him lately. The best part was that he seemed to need me just as much.
“I’m not avoiding anything,” I said, walking over and sliding my arms around him from behind.
“Now you’re distracting me.” He chuckled. “I’m curious why something I’ve spent a lot of money on—and that my employees will be attending—apparently doesn’t require my approval?”
“Because, lover,” I said, slipping my hand into his boxers and finding what I wanted, “your approval isn’t needed.”
Jim’s breath hitched as I gripped his length tightly and began to gently smooth my hand up and down, waking up the sensations I was already experiencing from just watching the man shave.
The water stopped, and the razor clinked against the porcelain. He gripped both hands onto the sink, allowing me to continue bringing him pleasure.
“Jesus, Av,” he breathed out, his eyes focusing on me through the mirror. “Now, you’re just—”
When I reached the velvety smoothness of his hard tip, I used the slickness gently dripping from it to glide my palm to massage just beneath his most sensitive spot that always rendered the man speechless when I focused everything on this area.
Watching the tension ripple down his arms sent its echo through me. The hard lines of his stomach tightened, his biceps and forearms now fully flexed, while his eyes rolled back.
I moved my hand faster. “Open your eyes, handsome,” I said, loving to watch my husband’s expression cross over from stern, and into the bliss of ecstasy he was feeling.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his mind and eyes falling into that sexy trance they always did while his pleasure grew.
I kissed his bare shoulder, pulled his boxers completely down so I could take in the perfect image of all of him. I managed to shrug my robe off and pressed my breasts into the tightened muscles of his back.
Jim stood there, the dark hair he always had neatly trimmed, highlighting the perfection of his hard dick, glistening with precum as I stroked him. God, he was perfection, the veins swelling as he grew hard, his mouth agape while leaning into all the pleasure he was feeling.
My mouth and tongue tasted down the back of one flexed bicep, and I used my other hand to cover both of his neatly groomed balls.
“Fuck,” Jim bit out, his hand reaching back into where I already knew I was dripping with desire for more. “I need this,” he said, dipping his fingers into me.
I pulled back, not allowing any more from him, just wanting to watch my man cum in front of me.
However, that never worked with my possessive husband.
The next thing I knew, my ass was planted on the vanity he was once standing in front of, and all of him was sliding powerfully into me.
I gripped his shoulders and watched across to the long mirrors of the dressing section of our massive bathroom, seeing his perfect ass tightening with each powerful thrust he pushed into me.
Both of us were whimpering, softly moaning, and doing everything we could to keep quiet so our daughters wouldn’t need to cover their ears to protect themselves from nightmares caused by hearing us having sex before breakfast.
I leaned back against the mirror, giving Jim more access to drive into me harder. He responded perfectly by planting both hands on the mirror behind me, moving faster, harder, and deeper.
“Harder,” I begged him.
“I love that you like it hard, baby,” he said before his lips captured mine in a firm and powerful kiss.
Both of our bodies started building together, and I massaged myself with my hand, heightening the pleasure that was already building with just Jim’s dick inside of me. That’s when we both exploded into the most shattering orgasm that wrecked us both before we could move another muscle.
For a moment, the world narrowed down to just a heartbeat and breath, with the scent of his skin still sharp with aftershave.
God, I loved us. I had to hope, though, that we could actually get our asses out of here and start moving, since we had more responsibilities than just each other these days.
And right on cue, it was Jim who put us back on our morning schedule.
“Now,” Jim said once he could speak again, voice still rough, “why can’t I visit what I’m paying your planner for?”
“Oh, I forgot about that,” I said truthfully.
He smirked. “That was your intent, but I didn’t forget.”
“Well, you should have,” I said, swatting his bare backside before he could pull his briefs up. “You’re a man.”
“I’m also a fantastic multitasker.” He fastened his watch and gave me a quick kiss. “So, gorgeous, what’s this big secret party I’m banned from?”
“I don’t know why you even care,” I said. “I’m not asking to see your venue, am I?”
“Well, considering my sorry ass has been trending on the internet this month, I’m curious if your secret party’s going to cause a repeat.”
“If you trend because of my party,” I said, sauntering toward my closet, “then it was worth it.”
“Avery Mitchell,” he called after me, “you may have seduced me three times already this morning, but I’m not letting your cute little ass leave me hanging.”
“All I’m going to say,” I said, flipping through hangers, “is if you start trending again because of this party—which, by the way, will be ten million times better than yours—don’t complain.”
“I’ve seen the plans for mine and the girls’ party,” he countered, “and I think it’s still up for debate. Renting out Paramount Studios isn’t going to help you compete with what ours looks like.”
I narrowed my eyes at his reflection. “Are we really going back down this planning-war road again?”
“We never got off it, gorgeous,” he said. “And you keeping your little party secret tells me that’s a fact.”
“You’re not seeing my London set,” I blurted before clapping a hand over my mouth and cursing myself for letting that important detail slip.
He turned at my unintentional admission, already half-dressed, smirk in place. “London set? Why, pray tell, are you taking company employees to a London set? Are we expected to be in a play or something?”
“Let’s just say it’s a fun recreation of a great Christmas tradition,” I hedged, instantly regretting it.
“Av,” he said, laughter in his voice as he disappeared into his closet, “most companies host galas, dinners, balls—stuff like that.”
“I know. That’s what makes mine awesome.”
He came out buttoning his burgundy shirt. “What are you really planning? Company morale depends on it, especially if my wife has everyone acting out Christmas roles like Jake and Collin pulled off in Switzerland last year.”
“Trust me,” I said, rolling my eyes, “morale will skyrocket, and more than it would have from those cheese boards you handed out three weeks ago.”
“That’s in the past,” he said.
“And so is the crap that Jake and Collin pulled,” I reminded him with a grin.
He finished fastening his cufflinks, leaned down, and kissed my forehead. “You’re as stubborn as the day I met you. Who’s trusting Addy to drive for drop-off this morning?”
“If you can take the girls, that would be great. Cat wants to meet early, and I promised coffee and muffins for our tour.”
“Tour?” His brows rose. “Are we dealing with actors now?”
“You’ll see. Stop prying. It’s a surprise for you and everyone else.”
“You’re adorable when you act like a devious vixen, you know that?”
“And you’re handsome when you act like the big bad CEO with the biggest heart on earth,” I said, rising on my toes to kiss him. “Thank you for letting me do this, and for not cheating and following me to the set.”
“The only one cheating right now is my wife, manipulating me with words instead of her body,” he said.
“That’s right.” I turned back to my closet. “If you can take the girls, it’ll help me.”
“Of course. No meetings till ten.” He paused. “Are you sure you don’t want breakfast here?”
“I’m sure,” I said, laughing. “I don’t need you and the girls teaming up to guilt-trip me about my party.”
Jim’s chuckle followed him out, and I couldn’t help but grin. After the banter, the teasing, and the morning we’d just had, I was fired up to see what Cat had pulled off at Paramount.