Alton Cox Read online

  I feel Alton’s hand suddenly grip my body in a way that feels both possessive and aggressive. He pulls me close to him with a power and speed that rattles me, but settles into something exciting. Though, before I have a chance to gain my bearings, I hear him, his loud, booming voice, throwing words over my head at the bartender.

  “Think you’re clever, pal?”

  “I don’t know what you mean--”

  “Think you can lay your hands all over her because she’s nice?”

  “Hey, man, I didn’t know she was--”

  “Why don’t you--”

  I turn to face Alton and catch fury in his eyes. For a moment, I think he might hoist the bartender over the bar to break him in half. (He could do it, those muscles tensen and display their brawn.) I press my hand against his chest to stop him, but something else happens. His rage channels into something else when his eyes hit mine and he feels my hand against his chest. The world mutes around us, the bartender has some quiet reply in the backdrop of this slowed moment.

  Then Alton seizes my hand and nearly drags me towards the hallway alongside the bar. We arrive at the darkened end of the hallway and he pushes me against the wall in an aggressive, but not violent manner. When my back connects with the wall, a burst of butterflies surge up through my core into my throat. But instead of becoming dry, as I would expect, I salivate, like some sort of hungry animal. My mouth becomes wet with craving, and when his hand grips my side (his fingers touching my bare skin) still more places (that place) become wet. Soaked. My breath shallows, my lips part. My chin tilts upward and I feel my back arch to extend my chest towards Alton.

  He stands before me, his massive frame dusted with light outlining his size, his muscular form. There’s enough to trace his lips through the dark, see them wet and inching nearer.

  “You can’t flirt with other men,” he nearly growls.

  “I wasn’t flirting,” I tell him. “Alton, what is this--”

  His lips are on mine and his body follows while he works his phenomenal lips around mine, sucking, tenderly caressing, holding them in his (amazing). His tongue greets mine as we open mouth kiss and his body slides into me, pressing me hard against the wall and I wrap my arms around him, gripping his back (god, his muscles!) and the pressure is enough to flatten me (flatten me, Alton). I feel his torso meet mine and something in his pants - wow. It’s his manhood, with the inside of my thighs I can estimate its dimensions and I lose my breath all over again (even a virgin can recognize his impressive size). Alton pulls me into him, pushes me against the wall, I feel my body in the tension between, driving heat to the surface, a sheen of sweat rising across my skin. His massive hands grip as much of it as possible, sliding into the sides of my dress, fingers caressing my sides, hips, and back.

  I give myself to him, succumbed to his fire. I lift a leg to glide along his body, inching the edge of my dress higher along my thigh. His hand takes full advantage, gripping, sliding along my skin made smooth with sweat. It reaches my ass, now bare and exposed, and he grabs a handful of it, groaning. I pinch his bottom lip between my teeth while I listen to him moan, the feel of my ass in his hand driving him wild (I can tell by the stiffening manhood pressed against me).

  Suddenly, he pulls back, and it feels like the air has rushed out of the room.

  “Come,” he commands, grabbing my hand again. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 8

  Alton

  Business falls out of focus, Paul and his project flying past along with the coastline, the lights along California 1. I make short work of the distance between the club and my home, a hilltop property in Malibu overlooking Santa Monica and the Pacific. I whip around the corners up the hill towards my driveway, watching from the corner of my eye as Amelia bites her bottom lip and writhes in the passenger seat. I’ve infected her with my lust - I couldn’t help myself. When I saw her at the bar, something inside me exploded. Something deep seated, waiting for a woman like her. It’s more than her body, than the cute mannerisms, than her eyes when she sees me. It’s something beneath it, a sweet, genuine, warm, precious core. I want to inhabit it, to enter her and entwine ourselves forever.

  I feel drunk, but I’m stone-cold sober.

  I pull into the driveway and see her eyes light up.

  “Wow,” she whispers in awe.

  I grin back. “Come see the inside.”

  I exit the car and round the hood to open hers. I take her hand and watch her step out, still in awe of how that dress makes her look. Of course, it won’t be on much longer, I’ll see to that. I lead her inside, and once again find her in awe. Her eyes widen while she meanders the place, from kitchen to living room, strolling beside the glass wall overlooking the ocean. She stops to peer out over it, and cranes her neck to peer south towards the pier. I take the moment to soak her in. That frame, sweet lord, those legs.

  I reel myself into her, grabbing hold of her sides again, I can’t get enough of the texture, the softness, the heat of her skin around her hips. She moans and leans backwards into me. I caress the front of her body from behind, pulling her ass into my crotch where she begins grinding herself. I cup her breasts, feel their attentive nipples through the fabric. She rolls her head back and moans into my ear, only exacerbating the craving funneling into my cock, hard against her ass. I lean forward and suckle her neck, still more moans induced. The flavor, the sweet aroma of her covers over all other sensations. I lose myself in her. My hands drag her dress upward to expose her ass.

  I step back, while she turns her head to her shoulder and smile back at me. I’m just taking her in. I want to savor her, to inspect every inch of her incredible form with my eyes, then my hands, and my mouth.

  “Amelia,” I speak her name.

  “Yes?” she replies, and her voice makes me shiver with anticipation. God, she’s amazing. And that ass, with the thin strip of black, the back of her thong, disappearing between her round, smooth, tan - now glistening, buttocks is the vision of perfection. She twists at her thin waist, turning her ass back and forth for me, invitingly. The moonlight enters through the glass to outline its curves, lines I will trace with my tongue.

  But a thought spoils the moment. I don’t want to ruin her. I don’t want to dispose of her after this. How can I convey that? How do I tell her...tell her I think I need her in my life? Her angelic presence, her exquisite beauty, her sweetness and earnestness I crave as much - more so, than her body; an impressive feat.

  “I need you to know something,” I tell her.

  Chapter 9

  Amelia

  My bare ass would ordinarily terrify me before a man like Alton, but his attention (those incredible green eyes piercing through the dark of his amazing living room) puts me at ease. Puts me in a place I feel sexy, makes me want to seduce. But then he says something that freezes me.

  “I need you to know something,” he says in a low tone.

  I turn to face him, dismissing the fact my dress is hikes up to my waist, exposing my thick thighs and nether region (though still covered in my wet thong). “Alton?” I speak his name, inquisitively. I’m terrified (what is it?). I don’t want him to say it (you don’t actually like me? This is a joke? You just want to fuck me? You think I’m naive?). But I need him to. I’m hung in this moment, suspended within it.

  I can’t wait, opting to step towards him, crossing my legs, click clacking my heels against his marble floor. I place myself into him, running my hands up his shirt beneath his suit coat, around his shoulders, then down again, removing it. I unbutton his shirt and trace a line of kisses down the front of his body (one for each muscle, so many muscles).

  I stop when he seizes me, grabbing hold of my shoulders and lifting me to stare eye to eye. His gaze is powerful, yet something inside it is incredibly kind. A bloody heart at the center of a blaze. “Alton,” I say again, staring into his radiant greens.

  He looks back and forth between my eyes and my lips. “I don’t know what it is,” he tells me, “but you d
o something to me I didn’t think possible.” Now he stares directly into my lips and all I want is for him to take them up in his own, suckle them, kiss me hard, then soft, and hard again.

  “What do I do to you?” I whisper into the small bit of air separating us.

  “You make me weak and strong at the same time,” he says.

  His eyes rise back to mine and I see a luster across their surface. I feel my skin form gooseflesh, and what I’ve felt in his presence is vindicated (he feels whatever it is, too). I think for a moment how unreal this seems, but at the same time, more real than anything. I’m in one of my scripts, living the romance. I can’t help the words from spilling breathless from my lips, “Oh, Alton,” which he cuts off by smashing his lips against mine in a passionate embrace. His hands reach around and grip my ass, lifting and I wrap my legs around his torso. He carries me up the stairs and down a hallway into his master bedroom. It’s dark, overlooking the ocean, with reflective tiles and a king size mattress in a sleek, modern wooden frame.

  He lays me down into it and I lift my dress over my head, exposing my body to his eyes, which lift me and roll me over in the fire of his fierce love (love? Is that what this is?) and I feel the anticipation of his hands gliding over every inch of me before they actually do. His eyes lock me into place while he bends down, grabs hold of the strings of my thong, and pulls them down my legs, exposing my pussy to the air. He kisses a line from my ankle down along my leg towards it, and when his mouth wraps around it, I feel a burst of ecstasy race through me. “Oh, god, Alton, unghh,” I moan. It seems to encourage him and he lashes his tongue past my clitoris to wondrous effect. I look down and see him looking up at me. My eyes tell him to return to me, to have me taste myself on his beautiful lips, and he receives the thought, kissing and licking my body as he rises up along it towards my breasts (he sucks my tits and I spasm), along my neck (a nibble sends me through the roof), before connecting our lips again. He kisses me with a hungry passion I know is genuine, chasing out all doubts that existed before this moment. He undresses himself as he does, with speed and efficiency, until his body is nude hovering above mine.

  “Amelia,” he whispers to me.

  “I’ve never loved my name until now,” I tell him with a smile, returned twofold, his brilliant smile lighting up his face. Then it twists into a concentrated look when I feel his girth at my entrance. “Alton,” I say, thinking to tell him I’m a virgin. He inspects my eyes and finds it before I say anything, knowing to be gentle. And he is, slowly pressing himself up inside me, quivering on his manhood while pangs of excitement shoot to my extremities. He pins my hands above my head and locks eyes with me.

  “Trust me,” he says.

  I only nod, then feel a thrust (oh god!). But the anticipated pain isn’t there, only the exquisite sensation of being filled by Alton. He moves himself expertly further, retracing several inches, and sliding in again. “Ungh!” I moan.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he tells me, his hands communicating the same while they slide down my arms and over my body.

  He takes my mouth into his again and we kiss while he pumps, slowly at first, then working his way into a rhythm that fills my body with heat. “Oh, oh, oh,” I moan, and he returns it. His eyes never leave mine, and I feel myself clenched around him (he’s so big). His muscles, etched in moonlight, invite my hands, which drag down from above to explore his body. Our hands trace each other, the naked parts of us given to one another, while a growing wetness connects us. I gush around his cock, wetter than I’ve ever been, wetter and wetter, he’s harder and harder. “Give me everything, Amelia,” he whispers.

  “Take it, Alton,” I offer.

  He works himself in and out of me, his lips around mine, his hands grazing the sides of my breasts, the moonlight sinking into the sweat across our bodies, the night holding us in his bedroom together.

  I feel my pussy ache, then clench, and release. A wave moves over me, tingling every inch of my naked body beneath him. I feel him burst at the same time, shooting into me with immense power in each spurt.

  His eyes never leave mine. Not even when we come. Not even when the last of the waves leave us, leaving us together, entwined, blanketed by the night and the moon above.

  I graze my hand along his cheek. “Alton,” I whisper his name.

  In the ensuing silence, the world collapses into us. I don’t know how to describe it, but I see through him, into his core, and a look in his eye tells me he sees through me, as well. And in the center of each other rests a mirror, and in the mirror, a vision of our selves, alive within each other. It’s silent, the reflections don’t speak, but manage to say - against the doubts, the fears, the unprecedented nature of this chance encounter and the brief time elapsed in one another’s company, we’ve found home.

  Chapter 10

  Alton

  Last night was the most sensational night of my life. Something happened between Amelia and I that I feel is the beginning of something to last a lifetime. It’s why I couldn’t help but come inside her, secretly hoping to make her permanent family. I’ve always thought raising children would be in my future, I just didn’t know how, especially as I aged through my thirties. But that was before Amelia, before last night. On instinct, I know she would be an excellent mother.

  I’m entranced with lofty thoughts of a shared future as we walk into the office an hour later than usual, attracting the slack jawed gaze of all my employees. They’ve never seen this before. I turn to Amelia, whose hand I hold, and find her face blushing. Sweet Amelia, always blushing. I give her hand a reassuring squeeze to tell her it’s all fine. Everything will be wonderful from here on. She’s wearing an outfit we stopped by a Beverly Hills fashion store to purchase. She looks phenomenal, and I couldn’t help but add a gold chain to the look. Soon enough, I think, I’ll be adding a ring.

  Nathan, one of my partners, approaches me with anger twisted in his face. “What the fuck?” he says, pushing a pointed finger into my chest. “You piece of shit, you bail on a meeting with Paul to run off with--” he turns a disgusted face at Amelia, “this?”

  I can’t help but smile. Nathan has always been jealous of me, always wanted the company for his own, but he’s never had the charisma to be a leader in this industry.

  “Keep your finger off my suit,” I tell him. “And this is the most incredible woman I’ve had the pleasure of spending the night with.” I pause to think of something - a surprise, to excite her. “Additionally, she’s newly represented by Star Writers.” I look back at her and her face is awash with glee. What fear, or embarrassment she was feeling has fled. That’s all I want now, to make her feel like this, every day, for the rest of our lives.

  Paul rears back to hit me, and I counter with a quick, light punch to his face. He stumbles back and falls flat on his ass. “I accept your resignation,” I tell him.

  Epilogue

  Amelia

  Two months have passed since that life changing night with Alton. I was terrified when he put his faith in me as a writer, having never read my material. He told me after that (hilarious, entertaining) altercation with his ex-partner that he knew I would write amazing romance scripts, because I had engineered one on my own. Of course, I couldn’t have anticipated any of this when I took the internship, but I do believe there’s an innate sense of romance within me - something that’s helping to create a real-life happily ever after with Alton Cox.

  “I love you,” he tells me, in the quiet of his bedroom. I’ve moved in with him, a decision that took all of three minutes when comparing his Malibu mansion to the squalor of my tiny bachelor(ette) apartment. It should seem fast, but none of this does, only natural. I think back to the first night we spent together in this bed, after he made (incredible) love to me, what I saw inside him, and what I believe he saw in me. Some people don’t believe in that sort of thing, but seeing is believing, in my case.

  Butterflies swell. No amount of time will assuage them, and hearing those words come fr
om his lips makes me melt like butter. Naked, lying beside him, my fingertips grazing over his muscled physique while his hand grips my hip, I feel effortlessly sexy, and an overwhelming sense of comfort. “I love you,” I return. His expression lights up, that handsome, rugged-yet-sweet face of his.

  He surprised me that day in the office, and now I have a surprise for him. A film is going into production next week, a film Alton put together with lightning speed for this town, a film I happened to write (!!!). On the first day of shooting, after we watch the first take roll, I’m going to tell him the news - I’m going to turn to him, pull him into me, kiss his beautiful lips and feel his arms around me, then whisper to him, “We’re going to be a family.”

  *

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