Chapter 22 #2
He smiles at that, looking pleased. "You're diplomatic, Alex. I appreciate that quality."
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out quickly, angling it away from Jean-Pierre so he can't accidentally glance at who it's from.
"Er, sorry sir," I say, standing slightly as if to show respect. "My brothers—checking in about my visit tomorrow."
He nods easily. "Yes, yes, feel free to reply. I know you're visiting your family and your restaurant in Dark River tomorrow. Take your time."
I look down at the screen.
Isabelle: What on EARTH is taking you so long???? I'm dying over here.
I type quickly, trying not to smile.
Me: I am currently having drinks with your father. He caught me right before I got to your elevator. And no, he doesn't know anything. But I'm stuck here.
The typing dots appear immediately and I have to bite back a grin, smiling politely at Jean-Pierre who's scrolling through his own phone, completely unaware.
Isabelle: OH MY GOD. AHHHHH! Okay be careful. This is actually insane. PLEASE don't get caught. EEEEK!
I laugh quietly and shove my phone back in my pocket. Jean-Pierre looks up.
"Everything alright?" he asks.
"Yeah, all good." I say.
"Alex," he says, leaning forward slightly, "about the restaurant. I was thinking about the kitchen layout we discussed. What if we..."
He launches into a detailed analysis of kitchen workflow and equipment placement, and I nod and engage with the conversation because I have no other choice, discussing the merits of different ventilation systems and prep station configurations.
We get deep into the details of design, of menu development strategies and connecting with local suppliers and farmers in the Seattle area.
My mind keeps drifting to Isabelle waiting for me, probably getting increasingly frustrated, possibly still using that vibrator, and it's actual torture knowing she's so close and completely inaccessible.
Finally, after what feels like years taken off my life expectancy, he slaps his hand on his knee decisively.
"Well, I'm tired and should turn in for the night," he says, standing and stretching, rolling his shoulders. "Long day tomorrow. More meetings. You heading up soon?"
I nod, staying seated to finish my drink. "Yep, I'll finish this and head to bed myself. Early drive tomorrow to get to Dark River. Want to hit the road by eight."
He nods, standing and buttoning his sweater.
"It's been good, Alex. Really good. If I don't see you in the morning before you leave, I hope you enjoy visiting your home and your restaurant.
And I'll see you when you get back to Seattle in a few days for the final walk-through meeting.
But this has all gone remarkably well so far. "
I smile and stand to shake his hand, gripping it firmly. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate the opportunity. Really."
Squeezing my hand, he leans in slightly closer, his expression shifting to something more serious, more pointed.
"Just remember what I told you before all this started, Alex.
I'm glad you and Isabelle have gotten along professionally, developed mutual respect.
But my position on the other matter hasn't changed at all.
I like to remind people of important boundaries now and again, since people have a tendency to forget when things get comfortable.
" His eyes lock onto mine. "Don't even think about pursuing anything inappropriate with my daughter. Are we clear?"
I look up at him and smile my widest, most genuine smile, the one that's gotten me out of trouble my entire life. "Sir, I wouldn't dream of it."
Isabelle yanks me through the door, and I stumble inside, both of us immediately dissolving into slightly hysterical giggles like teenagers who just successfully snuck out past curfew.
The door clicks shut behind us and she immediately throws the deadbolt and the chain lock, then leans back against it, pure mischief in her eyes.
Sadly, she's put on a white silk robe over whatever she was wearing in that text, tied loosely at the waist, covering everything. But the fabric is thin enough that I can see the dark outline of her nipples through it, see the shadow of her body underneath.
"I thought we were absolutely done for down there," I say, wrapping my arms around her waist. "I've never had a longer conversation in my entire life. He would not stop talking about kitchen ventilation systems."
"I was literally dying," she giggles against my chest, her whole body vibrating with suppressed laughter. "I was going insane the entire time waiting for you. Pacing. Checking my phone every thirty seconds like a lunatic. You're absolutely sure he didn't suspect anything?"
"No, he definitely doesn't know," I say, my hands sliding up her back over the smooth silk, my fingers finding the tie of her robe and tugging at it experimentally.
"He made a pointed comment at the very end about me not pursuing you, reminding me of boundaries, but I think he was just repeating his original warning since we're all staying in the same hotel together.
If he actually suspected something, he would have said it directly. "
"Mmm, okay," she says, lifting up on her tiptoes and kissing me, soft and sweet at first, just a gentle press of lips.
I tug at the robe tie and it comes undone easily, the silk knot falling apart. I push the robe off her shoulders slowly and it slides down her arms, pooling at her feet in a puddle of white silk. I take a step back to actually look at her properly, to see what she's been teasing me about.
My mouth goes dry. All the air leaves my lungs.
She's wearing a deep sapphire blue nightgown that's almost entirely sheer lace, clinging to every single curve of her body like it was painted directly onto her skin. The lace is intricate and delicate, clearly expensive, with a floral pattern that does absolutely nothing to hide what's underneath.
Her nipples are clearly visible through the delicate fabric, dark pink and already hard, standing out against the blue lace.
The lace continues down over her stomach, hugging her hips, ending mid-thigh with a scalloped edge, and I can see she's wearing absolutely nothing underneath it—the curve of her pussy and the neat dark hair above it clearly visible through the translucent material, every detail on display.
My mouth actually falls open.
"You like?" she asks, doing a slow, deliberate twirl, showing me every angle.
The back is even better—the lace dips low, showing off the curve of her spine, and her ass looks absolutely incredible, the fabric riding up slightly to reveal the bottom curve of her cheeks, the lace stretched tight across them.
"Get over here. Right now," I say, my voice coming out rough and commanding and barely controlled, and I reach out and pull her forward by the hips, my fingers digging into the soft flesh.
She giggles, putting up token resistance for about half a second, playfully pushing against my chest with her palms before melting into my arms completely, her body pressed against mine from chest to thigh, all that soft warm skin separated from me by just the thinnest layer of lace.
I kiss her deeply, hungrily, desperately, pouring all the frustration and pent-up desire into it.
Barely being able to look at her properly, of sitting across conference tables and maintaining professional distance, of watching her talk and laugh and exist and not being able to touch her, to kiss her, to remind her that she's mine.
She responds immediately, opening her mouth under mine, her tongue sliding against mine hot and slick, pressing her body harder against me like she's trying to crawl inside my skin. Her hands are already working at my belt, fumbling with the buckle in her eagerness.
My hands slide down to her ass, finally getting to touch it after watching it all day in those jeans.
I lift the hem of the lacy nightgown to squeeze her bare cheek, kneading the soft flesh, feeling it fill my palm perfectly, pulling her up and against me so she can feel exactly how hard I am through my jeans, grinding my erection against her hip.
We stumble backward toward the bed, still kissing frantically, like we're making up for lost time. I get my mouth on her neck, sucking at the sensitive skin, then biting gently at that spot just below her ear that I know drives her crazy.
"Oh, you're absolutely insatiable, aren't you?" she teases, her hand sliding down between us to palm my cock through my jeans, squeezing firmly and stroking me through the denim.
"Yes, well, I've been tortured all damn day watching you walk around in those tight jeans with that perfect ass," I say, smacking her ass lightly, making her gasp and arch into me, her hips pressing forward.
"Do you have any idea how hard it's been keeping my hands to myself?
Sitting in meetings pretending to care about zoning codes when all I could think about was getting you naked? "
"Poor baby," she laughs, pulling me down onto the bed with her.
I yank my shirt off over my head in one motion and toss it somewhere across the room.
Then I lower myself over her, exploring her with my hands now that I finally can—running my palms up her arms, down her sides, over her hips, down her thighs—kissing her deeper, harder.
My hand slides down her waist, moving lower and lower down her thigh, feeling the lace against my palm, then the bare skin below where it ends.
Then I change direction, sliding inward, pushing past the lacy hem and moving up the inside of her thigh until my fingers brush against her pussy. She's already soaked, wet and hot and ready for me.
"Oh!" she gasps sharply, arching into me on the bed, her hips lifting off the mattress. Her eyes lock onto mine as she bites her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed pink.
"Had some fun while you were waiting for me?" I ask, sliding one finger inside her slowly, deliberately, feeling her wet heat immediately clench around me like a vice.
She moans, a low sound in the back of her throat, pressing into me harder, her hips rocking up to meet my hand. "Maybe a little. I was going insane up here."
I kiss her while fingering her, adding a second finger and curling them just right to hit that spot inside her that makes her entire body jerk. She's so wet that my fingers slide in easily, and I can feel her getting wetter with every stroke.
Then I lower myself down her body, kissing down her neck, between her breasts through the lace, down her stomach, sliding the lace nightgown up to bunch at her waist. I settle myself between her thighs, spreading them wider, and just look at her for a moment—her pussy pink and swollen and glistening wet, absolutely beautiful.
"You want me to taste you?" I ask, looking up at her, my breath hot against her sensitive skin, watching her face.
"Yes, yes!" she pants, one hand already moving to my hair in anticipation, her fingers threading through it.
I kiss her pussy softly, just a gentle press of my lips against her clit.
Just once. Then I pull back, watching her reaction.
Then I do it again, a little lower this time, moving slowly and deliberately, kissing all over her, gently licking and teasing but not giving her what she actually wants yet.
Taking my time. Making her wait the way I had to wait.
"Alex," she whines, her fingers gripping my hair tighter, trying to pull me where she wants me, trying to guide my mouth. "Who's the tortured one now? This is mean. This is cruel."
"Well, I'm just showing my proper devotion to you," I say innocently, licking slowly up through her folds but deliberately avoiding her clit entirely, circling around it, making her hips jerk in frustration.
"Taking my time. Savoring this. I wasn't sure if you wanted me to rush through it or really appreciate what I'm doing here? "
She leans up on her elbows and glares down at me, her chest heaving, her eyes dark and demanding and absolutely furious. "Go down on me properly right this second or I swear to god, Alex—"
I grin up at her, completely unrepentant. "As you wish, Princess."
And then I seal my mouth over her clit and suck hard, flicking my tongue quickly over the sensitive bud while sliding my fingers back inside her, two of them, curling and stroking against that perfect spot.
She falls back against the pillows with a sharp cry, her back arching beautifully off the bed, one hand immediately fisting in my hair and shoving my face harder against her pussy, grinding against my mouth.
And I fucking love it, love her taking what she wants from me, using my mouth exactly how she needs it, completely uninhibited.
She's writhing now, her hips moving in small circles, chasing the sensation, completely lost in it.
Her back is arched beautifully, perfectly, one hand still fisted tightly in my hair, the other hand reaching up to touch her own nipple, which has slipped free of the lacy nightgown, pinching and rolling it between her fingers.
The sight of her touching herself while I eat her out, makes me so hard I could literally come in my jeans right now without even being touched.
She's perfect, absolutely perfect, everything I've ever wanted and never knew I was looking for.
I work her clit with my tongue, alternating between broad flat strokes and quick flicks, my fingers pumping inside her steadily, curling on every thrust to hit that spot that makes her cry out.
She's getting close—I can tell by the way her thighs are starting to shake against my ears, the way her breathing has turned into these desperate little gasps that catch in her throat, the way she's grinding harder against my face, practically riding my mouth.
"Alex," she moans, and my name coming out of her mouth like that, wrecked and desperate, makes me groan against her pussy, the vibration making her gasp louder.
"Come for me," I say against her wet skin, barely pulling back enough to get the words out, then go immediately back to sucking her clit, my fingers hitting that perfect spot inside her with every single thrust.
"Oh god, oh god, I'm—" she cries out, her whole body tensing, every muscle going tight, and then releasing as the orgasm crashes through her.
She's clenching rhythmically around my fingers, pulsing and squeezing, her hips bucking up against my mouth uncontrollably, and I keep working her through it, not stopping until she's pushing weakly at my head with her hand, too sensitive to take any more stimulation.
I pull back slowly and look up at her, my chin and lips wet with her, and she's staring down at me with dazed, satisfied eyes and flushed cheeks, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.
"Get up here," she says breathlessly, reaching for me with both hands. "Right now."