7. Crossing Boundaries
Chapter seven
Crossing Boundaries
E llie
I’m sitting on my bed, bikinis laid out in front of me as I Facetime Jenna, trying not to freak out. My stomach’s been in knots all day, and the reality of going away with Alexander is finally hitting me.
“I’m nervous as hell, Jenna,” I say, holding up one of the bikinis, a sleek black number I bought last summer but never had the guts to wear. “I mean, this is insane, right? Going away with him like this?”
Jenna’s face fills my screen, her hair tied up in a messy bun, flour dusting her cheek from whatever she’s been baking at the shop. She grins. “Ellie, you’ve got this. But seriously, before things get too serious, you should probably talk to him. You know, make sure you’re on the same page about… everything.”
She doesn’t have to say more. I know what she’s hinting at. This thing between Alexander and me—it’s been heating up fast, but we’ve barely talked about what it even is. And the truth is, I don’t know how long I can keep pretending that I’m just fine with it being casual.
“Yeah, you’re right.” I sigh, folding the bikini and tossing it into the suitcase. “I’ll find the right time to bring it up. Maybe this weekend. It’s just… I’ve worked so hard to prove myself, and now I’m messing with the CEO. Every time I think about it, my stomach flips.”
“You’re not messing with him,” Jenna says, rolling her eyes. “You’re a grown woman who happens to have caught the attention of one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. Don’t overthink it.”
“Easy for you to say,” I mumble, zipping up the suitcase halfway. “Anyway enough about me. How’s home?”
She smirks. “Philly’s fine. Mom’s great. The bakery is doing great. We’ve been selling out of those cinnamon rolls you love.”
My stomach growls at the mention of Jenna’s cinnamon rolls. “God, I miss your baked goods. The stuff here in New York doesn’t even come close.”
“I’ll figure out a way to send you some cookies or rolls or something as soon as you’re back. Maybe I’ll even toss in a dick-shaped one like I did last time.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I love you, Jenna. Thanks for always knowing how to make me feel better.”
“Love you too, girl,” she says, giving me a wink before we end the call.
I stare at my half-packed suitcase, my mind racing. Jenna’s right—I need to talk to Alexander. Before things get any more complicated. I’ve been working my ass off at Blackwood Enterprises, trying to prove that I belong there, and every time I remember that I’m getting involved with the CEO , my stomach twists. It’s not like I planned this. But God, those blue eyes, the way he looks at me... And fuck , the way he kissed me yesterday in his office, the way his hands felt on my skin.
I shake my head, trying to focus as I finish packing. He’s gorgeous, smart, and he listens to me—actually listens . But I need to know where this is going before I get in any deeper.
Three hours later, around seven, I’m sitting on my couch with a takeout container in my lap, trying to force down some food when my phone buzzes. It’s Alexander.
“Hey,” I answer, setting the container aside.
“You all packed?” His voice is smooth, deep, and just hearing it sends a little thrill through me.
“Yeah,” I say, glancing at my suitcase by the door. “I’m ready.”
“Good. I’ll be there in about an hour.”
“Okay,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady as excitement ripples through me.
I hang up, clean up my takeout, and then start locking up my tiny apartment. The butterflies in my stomach won’t stop as I zip up my bag and take one last look around. This whole thing feels surreal. I’ve dreamed of traveling, but I’ve never thought I’d get to stay at a Les Mains de Paris hotel. It’s a big deal. Camilla Rochefort’s chain of luxury hotels is renowned worldwide, and the idea of attending an opening for one of them feels like something out of a movie.
When Alexander arrives, he pulls up in his sleek Rolls Royce. It feels too fancy for my little street, but I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face when he steps out of the car. He’s in a tailored black suit, looking as devastatingly handsome as always, his hair perfectly styled, his blue eyes gleaming when he spots me.
“You ready?” he asks, walking over to load my suitcase into the trunk.
“Yeah.” I watch as he lifts the bag easily, his muscles flexing under his suit.
“Got your passport?” he asks casually, glancing back at me.
I blink, surprised. “Why would I need my passport?”
He steps closer, his smile turning playful as he lightly smacks my ass. “Just get the passport, Ellie.”
I laugh, shaking my head as I head back into my apartment to grab it. When I return, I hand it to him, and he tucks it into his jacket pocket with a wink. “Normally, they don’t ask me for it, but better to have it just in case.”
“Okay,” I say, my curiosity piqued.
We both slide into the car, the leather seats cool against my legs. I’m wearing a simple white blouse tucked into a high-waisted skirt, with nude heels. Casual but still classy. The drive is smooth, and the entire time, I’m trying to figure out where the hell we’re going.
“Alexander,” I ask after a while, staring out the window at the streets of New York, “where exactly are we going?”
“You ask way too many questions,” he teases, reaching over to take my hand in his. His touch sends a warmth through me that makes me want to melt into the seat.
I sigh but let it go. The anticipation is killing me, but I trust him enough to wait.
After what feels like forever, the car pulls up to a private hangar. I glance out the window and spot a sleek jet parked on the tarmac, the words Blackwood painted on the side in bold letters.
My jaw drops. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He smirks, squeezing my hand. “Welcome to our ride for the weekend.”
“You didn’t mention this when you said ‘hotel opening.’” I shake my head, half-laughing as I take it all in.
He just grins. “I like to keep some surprises up my sleeve.”
I’m speechless as we step out of the car, and he grabs our bags from the trunk, leading me toward the jet. The closer we get, the more surreal this all feels. I’ve never been on a private plane before, and certainly not one with a name like Blackwood on the side. It’s a reminder of the world Alexander lives in—a world I’ve barely scratched the surface of.
But as he takes my hand again, leading me up the steps and into the jet, I realize I’m excited. Nervous, sure, but excited.
This weekend is going to be something else.
The inside of the plane is nothing like I’ve ever seen before. It’s sleek, modern, with plush leather seats that look more like luxurious armchairs, and polished wood accents that scream wealth. A spacious area with a small bar sits toward the back, and there’s even a private lounge area with a couch. This isn’t just a plane—it’s a flying luxury hotel.
As I step inside, wide-eyed and trying to take it all in, the pilot turns to greet us. “Welcome aboard. I’m Captain Thomas. We’ll be arriving in Milan in approximately seven hours.”
I freeze for a second, my mind screeching to a halt. “Milan?” I blurt, spinning around to face Alexander, who’s watching me with that ever-present smirk.
He chuckles. “Yes, Milan. That’s where the hotel opening is.”
I stand there, my eyes darting between him and the lavish plane, trying to process everything. Milan. Italy. I never thought I’d be traveling internationally, let alone to Milan. I must look like a fish out of water because Alexander lets out a full laugh, catching my attention.
“What?” I ask, crossing my arms, trying to play it cool.
“You’re cute,” he says, leaning back against one of the seats, his blue eyes gleaming with amusement. “I’m used to people who aren’t impressed by this kind of stuff. I like that you’re all giddy.”
“I’m not giddy,” I protest, even though the smile tugging at my lips betrays me.
He raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but he doesn’t push it. Instead, he steps closer and asks, “Do you need anything before we take off?”
Before I can respond, a hostess appears from the aisle, all polished and professional. “Hello, Mr. Blackwood, Ms. Sanders. Can I get you some wine?”
“I’m good, thank you,” I say, feeling a little out of my element as she hands a glass of wine to Alexander, who takes it with an easy nod.
With a quick glance at me, he says, “Let’s get settled.” He motions toward one of the larger seats by the window. I sit down, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’m about to take off in a private jet to Milan.
The takeoff is smooth, and the plane so quiet I barely notice we’ve left the ground. The entire experience feels like something out of a dream, and I keep sneaking glances out the window at the clouds below us, reminding myself this is real.
Alexander, of course, is unfazed. He’s already pulled out his laptop, his attention locked on whatever deal or project he’s working on. The man is always working. I try not to stare, but I can’t help it. He looks so damn good sitting there, focused and intense, his jaw clenched slightly in concentration.
After a while, the soft hum of the plane and the overwhelming day catch up to me, and I feel my eyelids growing heavy. I drift off, the last thing I remember is the quiet tapping of Alexander’s fingers on his keyboard.
When I wake up, I’m surprised to find I’ve been covered in a blanket, and my heels are off. I blink, looking around, feeling disoriented for a second.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Alexander’s voice breaks through the haze, and I turn to find him watching me with a smile.
I stretch, feeling more relaxed than I expected. “Are we there yet?”
“Not yet,” he says, closing his laptop and leaning back in his seat. “We’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
I let out a content sigh, leaning my head against the seat. “This is amazing,” I say softly. “I’ve never been to Milan.”
“Really?” he asks, his blue eyes locking on mine, curious. “Where else have you traveled to?”
I shake my head, feeling a little embarrassed. “Nowhere, really. I’ve never been out of the U.S.”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Wow.”
I shrug, trying to play it off. “It’s been a dream of mine to travel, but it’s never really been an option.”
He watches me for a moment, his gaze softening. “Well, I’m glad your first international trip is with me.”
There’s something in the way he says it that makes my stomach flip. With him . I like the way that sounds.
“I’m glad too,” I admit, smiling at him.
“After the opening, maybe we can explore the city a little?”
I nod. “Only if you don’t mind.”
He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’d like that.”
The plane begins its descent, and my heart skips a beat as I glance out the window. I can see the sprawling city of Milan below us, the buildings and streets looking like something out of a painting. It’s surreal—like I’m watching someone else’s life play out.
Once we land, the plane taxis smoothly to a stop, and a sleek black car is waiting for us at the bottom of the steps. Alexander helps me out of the plane, his hand warm on the small of my back as I step onto the tarmac. The air is cool, but I barely notice because I’m too busy soaking in my surroundings.
A concierge greets us as we exit, offering a warm smile as he opens the door to the car. “Welcome to Milan, Mr. Blackwood, Ms. Sanders. We’ll be taking you directly to the hotel.”
I slide into the car, my heart racing with excitement. The drive through Milan is mesmerizing. The architecture, the people, the cobblestone streets—it’s all so beautiful, so different from anything I’ve ever seen. My eyes are glued to the window as we pass historic buildings and modern storefronts, the city alive with energy.
Every now and then, I glance at Alexander, who’s watching me with a soft smile, clearly amused by my fascination. I catch his eye, and for a moment, we just look at each other, the tension from the plane still simmering between us.
“This feels unreal,” I murmur, more to myself than to him.
He chuckles, leaning back in his seat. “It’s only the beginning, Ellie.”
And somehow, I know he’s right.
As we step out of the car, I’m hit by the sheer majesty of the hotel. The facade is a stunning blend of old-world elegance and modern luxury, with intricate carvings and towering windows that gleam in the evening sun. The entrance is grand, with marble steps leading up to double doors flanked by elegant columns, and I can’t help but stare, my mouth slightly agape.
“Wow,” I breathe, turning to Alexander, who’s watching me with an amused smile.
Inside, the reception area is breathtaking. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling, glittering like a thousand diamonds, casting soft light over the lavish decor. The walls are adorned with rich tapestries and ornate paintings, and the floor is polished marble, reflecting everything around it.
Camilla Rochefort is there, air-kissing us both as she greets us. “Darling! I hope your trip went well!” she says, her French accent adding a certain charm to her words. She’s dressed in a chic outfit, exuding sophistication and warmth all at once.
“It was incredible,” Alexander replies, and I nod in agreement, still trying to take in the opulence surrounding us.
Camilla claps her hands together, her eyes sparkling. “Perfect! You must be exhausted after your journey. We should at least let you rest. Perhaps I can take you on a tour of the grounds tomorrow morning?”
Alexander glances at me, and I can see the excitement in his eyes. “I love that idea.”
“Wonderful!” she beams, turning to one of the hostesses nearby. “Please give them the cards for their rooms.”
The hostess nods, handing us two elegant cards. “You are set up in the presidential suites on the twenty-fifth floor,” she announces with a smile.
“Thank you,” I say, barely able to contain my enthusiasm.
Camilla adds, “Room service is available at all times, and our chef can prepare anything you need. Just let us know.”
She walks away, and I can’t help but take a deep breath, absorbing everything. This is unreal.
Alexander’s hand is resting on the lower part of my back as the hostess introduces herself. “Benvenuti! I’m Sofia,” she says in cheerful Italian. “This way, please. The elevators are just ahead.”
I follow her, my heart racing with anticipation. Alexander leans in closer to me, and I can feel his warmth radiating against my skin. He asks Sofia something in Italian, and I’m shocked when she replies, looking equally surprised.
“When did you start speaking Italian?” I ask, my voice tinged with awe.
He smirks, that devil-may-care grin I’m starting to adore. “I speak several languages, actually.”
“Fascinating,” I reply, completely impressed.
Sofia leads us to the elevators, and Alexander continues chatting with her in Italian, throwing in a few phrases I can’t quite catch. I watch him, admiring the way he effortlessly navigates the conversation.
She presses the button for the elevator when he stops her. “Actually Sofia, I think I have got it from here,” he tells her.
The hostess is as confused as I am. Alexander continues by explaining. “I can get both of them settled. That’s alright.”
Sofia nods once, wishes us a great night and then walks away.
The doors slide open, and we step inside, and I can’t help but feel a rush of excitement.
Once we’re in the elevator, Alexander pulls me closer to him. I wrap my arms around his torso, and it feels so natural, so right. The doors close, sealing us inside, and the tension between us thickens.
“Hey,” he whispers, his breath warm against my ear.
“Hey,” I reply, a smile creeping onto my lips.
Before I can say anything else, he leans down and kisses me softly, and I melt into him, my heart racing. The world outside the elevator fades away as I get lost in the moment.
When we pull apart, I glance up at him, and there’s a warmth in his blue eyes that makes my stomach flutter. “You ready for this?” he asks, his voice low.
“I think so,” I say, a little breathless.
He chuckles softly, and just as the elevator dings, signaling our arrival, I can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. The doors slide open to reveal a lavish hallway adorned with artwork and lush carpets.
As we step out, I glance around, my eyes wide with wonder. This place is beyond anything I could have imagined.
Alexander leads me toward the suite, and I can’t help but look around, taking in every detail. The hallways are expansive, and the atmosphere is luxurious yet inviting.
“Here we are,” he says, stopping in front of a large door, his hand still resting on the small of my back. He unlocks the door, and when it swings open, I gasp.
The presidential suite is even more breathtaking than I imagined. It’s spacious, with a stunning view of the Milan skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows. There’s a plush seating area, a king-sized bed draped in soft linens, and a dining area that looks like it belongs in a five-star restaurant.
“Wow,” I breathe, stepping inside, my heart racing with excitement.
“Impressed?” he asks, amusement in his voice as he watches me take it all in.
“Absolutely!” I spin around, a huge grin plastered on my face. “This is amazing, Alexander. I can’t believe we get to stay here.”
He chuckles, stepping in behind me and shutting the door. “Welcome to the high life, Ellie.”
I walk further into the suite, running my fingers over the luxurious furnishings, feeling a thrill of excitement. This place is unreal. “I never thought I’d experience something like this.”
He steps closer, his presence warm and comforting as he leans against the doorframe. “And you deserve every bit of it,” he says, his tone sincere.
I meet his gaze, feeling a warmth spread through me. “Thank you for this. It’s incredible. I hope my room is as big as yours.”
He leans in and presses his lips to my neck sending a jolt of heat through me. “Uhm, what makes you think you are spending the night anywhere but in my bed?”
I feel heady with excitement and fear.
My breathe hitches. This is it.
His hands are on my ass, pulling me closer, and I can feel every inch of him against me. His mouth sucks on a sensitive spot on my neck that makes my knees feel weak. “Alexander,” I whimper, trying to focus as his hands roam over me, making it hard to think straight.
His thigh slips between my legs, and the pressure sends sparks of desire coursing through me. But just as his hand slides up my skirt, I feel a rush of nerves, and I reach out, grabbing his hand. “Wait. Please, can we talk?”
He stops immediately, stepping back with a puzzled look on his face. I can see the confusion flicker in his eyes, and it only adds to my nerves. I don’t know how to tell him this, and I don’t know how he’ll react, but I know I have to.
I start to fidget, my fingers trembling as I avoid his gaze. “Are you okay?” he asks, concern washing over his features.
“I’m just… nervous,” I admit, swallowing hard. “I need to tell you something.”
“What is it?” His voice is steady, encouraging, but my stomach is in knots.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “I’m a virgin.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I watch his expression shift from confusion to understanding and then fascination. His brow arches, and I can see the wheels turning in his head.
“You’re a virgin?” he repeats, a hint of surprise in his voice.
“Yeah,” I say, my cheeks heating up. “I know it’s kind of… unexpected, but it’s true.” I look down at the floor, suddenly feeling very small. “I just wanted to be honest with you before we... you know.”
“Before we what?” He steps closer again, and I can’t read the look on his face.
“Before we take things further,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
He pauses, his expression softening as he processes my words. “Ellie, you don’t have to rush into anything. We have all the time in the world.”
His reassurance calms some of the nerves, but the heat in my cheeks doesn’t fade. “I just thought you should know,” I add, meeting his gaze again. “This weekend is a big deal for me, and I want it to be special.”
“Trust me, it will be special,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “You deserve that.”
I can’t help but smile at his words, and for a moment, the tension shifts from anxiety to something more comforting. “I just wanted to be upfront with you, you know? I really like you, Alexander.”
He steps even closer, our bodies almost touching again. “I really like you too, Ellie,” he admits, his voice warm, and the sincerity in his eyes makes my stomach flutter.
We stand there for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words, and I can see that he’s trying to respect my boundaries. I bite my lip, feeling a mix of excitement and uncertainty as I take in the gravity of the moment.
“I’m sorry I ruined the moment,” I say, brushing my wet palms on my skirt.
His blue eyes look up at me. There is a frown on his face before he reaches out and takes both my hands in one of his. “Listen baby, you didn’t ruin anything.”
The endearment settles somewhere in my chest and I feel a sting of tears in my eyes. “You promise?”
He pulls me closer brushing his lips against mine. “I promise. And if you still want to Ellie, I would still like you in this room and in my bed tonight.”
I am about to ask if he means sleeping when his lips curve up in a smile. “For sex Ellie. For all intents and purposes, and just so you know, unless you have reservations about it, I really want to fuck you.”
Well, I’ll be damned.