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Fake Marriage Act by Lulu Pratt (92)

Chapter 14

 

Logan

 

Ava’s hands are on me in some way or another the entire elevator ride, and my heart rate is through the roof trying to keep my cool. All day I’ve wanted her while she was right next to me. I’m insatiable for her, with no shame at all.

With her hand in mine, I take us to our hotel suite, ready to show her all I’ve planned for our evening.

“We’re going to have dinner here tonight. Is that okay?” I ask.

“I was just going to ask if there was another meal planned. I don’t know how I’m hungry again.”

“Of course there’s dinner. I’m going to hop in the shower and then it should be ready.”

“Perfect. After all that walking I’m sticky.”

Ava is so honest and open, it’s exhilarating. No other woman I’ve ever dated would admit to feeling sweaty, choosing instead to present themselves as prim and proper. She’s nothing like the people in my circle, and I’m enjoying the breath of fresh air more and more.

The second the door to her bedroom closes, I rush to the front door, opening as quietly as possible.

“I’ll handle this, Mr. Draper. You can prepare yourself,” Rodrick nods to the crew behind him.

I’ve arranged for a small staff to wait on us, so they’ve just arrived to set up a table on the balcony, complete with all the trappings of a high-end restaurant.

“Sounds great,” I nod, jetting off to my room.

The excitement I feel surprising Ava is a bit amusing, because pleasing this woman has quickly become my favorite pastime. She enjoys and appreciates everything so much more than most people I know, so I want to spoil her. Just thinking of her, and our day together, the smiles on her face and the awe in her eyes as we walked through the city, my manhood stands at attention.

I’ve never craved a woman like this, and my body is eager to please her in every way. My hand wraps tightly around my length, while my thumb presses against the head.

After a silent debate, I decide not to bring myself to release, wanting to save all my pleasure for Ava, whenever that will be. Turning down the temperature of the water, I let the cool water rinse over my tense shoulders until my cock relaxes, and then I hop out to get dressed.

Not wanting to be too fancy, I decide on a pair of slacks and a polo shirt. After quickly brushing my hair, and adding a spray of cologne, I make my way to the living room.

Ava has yet to re-emerge, but Rodrick has worked with the restaurant staff to set up the balcony perfectly. They’ve covered the table with a thick white tablecloth, setting an ice bucket next to the table with a bottle of white wine.

Traditional colorful Turkish plates and bowls make up the setting, with candles burning as the centerpiece, as well as all around the balcony, creating ambience, as the city bustles on beneath us from the incredible view.

My heart races waiting for Ava to see what I’ve prepared, but something is taking her longer than I expected. Just when I think she may have fallen asleep, her door opens slowly.

Wearing a thin white dress, she looks like an angel, with her hair flowing over her shoulders, and her skin glowing without any make-up.

“I’m sorry, I had to blow dry my – Oh God, Logan!” She exclaims, covering her mouth as the balcony comes into view.

“You like it?” I ask, failing to contain my pride from her reaction as a grin the size of Montana covers my face.

“I love it. It’s beautiful.” She wraps her arms around my waist, and I lean down to kiss her forehead, a new act of intimacy I had no idea I enjoyed so much.

“Let’s eat,” I run my fingers through her soft hair before leading her out to the balcony, where unfortunately she releases me to admire the view.

“Would you like a glass of wine, madam?” The waiter asks.

“Yes, please,” she answers, turning around to shake his hand and thank him. I can tell he’s caught off guard by her kindness, and probably her beauty as well. If he’s done this all day, I would bet she’s the first to pay him any attention.

Ava is so sweet and considerate to everyone, something I appreciate. Growing up with a staff, people often assume I’ll be a dick to those in the service industry, but I’m anything but.

Since I was little, I’ve always wanted to treat everyone the same after seeing how snotty my mother could be to workers. I’ve taken some women out, and they barely look at the waiters, but Ava learns their names and takes time out to thank them. I like that about her.

“Oh, Logan, this is amazing.” She looks to me, and I can feel my pants tightening as my cock reacts to the longing in her eyes. She wants me, I can feel it, but we’ve got to make it through dinner first.

“I’m glad you like it,” I say while helping her into her seat.

The waiter has left two glasses of wine, and is now standing at the end of the balcony to give us privacy while also being available when we require assistance.

Raising my glass in the air, Ava smiles before following suit, and we look deep into each other’s eyes as the glasses gently collide.

“So, are you some type of Casanova or something?” she asks, looking over her wine glass.

“What do you mean?” I chuckle after sipping my wine.

“Is this some tactic you use?” She squints her eyes suspiciously, and I go wide-eyed in disbelief.

While I don’t necessarily enjoy having a reputation that precedes me, especially the horror stories from women I’ve dated, it’s strange to be so into someone who doesn’t care about my past. The fact that she would even ask me that, or think I could possibly be good at this type of thing is a clear indication that she doesn’t know much about me.

“Trust me when I tell you, I have never done anything remotely as…” I find myself at a loss for words.

“Romantic?” She completes my thought, her hazel eyes glistening in the candle light.

“I didn’t mean to be too romantic. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s perfect,” she whispers, placing her hand over mine, and I feel my pulse quicken, an electric current ripping through me from her soft touch.

“Are you ready for the first course?” The waiter asks, disrupting our gaze.

“Uh, yeah… yes, that’s fine,” I say.

One dish after another, we eat our way through another Turkish feast as Ava tells me all about her upbringing just outside Bakersfield, which I always thought was a desert town.

Honestly, I’m not being the best listener, because I keep getting lost in her eyes, watching her lips as she smiles and blushes while recounting her early days in Los Angeles.

“So, you didn’t know anyone when you moved there?” I ask.

“Nope! But I think that’s normal for most college students. At least that’s what I told myself. I got to make friends with my peers, although because I graduated early, I was a bit younger than everyone.”

“Why did you graduate high school early?”

“I guess I just wanted to get out of there. I had been waiting to turn eighteen. I knew I wanted to move to Los Angeles when I was in elementary school. Then it hit me that I didn’t have to be eighteen, I just needed to graduate, so I started taking as many classes as I could,” she shrugs like it’s no big feat, but I’m impressed.

“That’s ambitious,” I nod, pushing my plate away as the waiter immediately walks over to remove it.

“I’d say desperate, but I really couldn’t help myself. I can’t imagine growing up in a place like Los Angeles. I don’t know how you functioned with so many distractions and opportunities at your fingertips.”

“I guess it’s just normal to us, you know? It’s all we’ve ever known. I didn’t even realize it was different until I moved to Palo Alto.”

“You went to Stanford?”

“Oh, well, yeah. My parents moved me in with all this shit. My mom wanted me to get an apartment, because she claimed the dorms were disgusting, but I insisted on staying on campus,” I laugh remembering the ridiculous look on my mother’s face as she toured the campus.

“My roommate had two suitcases, and that was it. Then there were two other rooms, but they were separate, but we all shared a kitchen and living room type of area. I went to their rooms, and they were bare and I knew my mom had overdone it. I made her take everything back with her, even my Porsche,” I shake my head at how awkward I felt back then.

“You had a Porsche in high school?”

“No!” I hold up my hands correcting myself. “I’d just gotten it as a graduation present. In high school, I had a Range Rover.”

“Oh, okay. For a second there, I thought you drove a luxury vehicle as a teenager,” she says sarcastically, and a deep laugh rumbles through my chest.

No one can pick on me or make me laugh at myself as well as Ava. Her sense of humor is one of my favorite qualities about her, and for the rest of the meal we entertain each other with silly stories from our college days.

“All done?” The waiter asks, taking our empty cups. We’ve eaten four courses, plus dessert and now cappuccinos. It’s like neither of us wants the night to end, but it appears to be happening anyways.

“Yes, thank you,” Ava answers, helping the waiter take away our empty cups before turning her gaze to me.

“Want to have a drink inside?” I suggest.

“Sure, why not?” she answers, all but confirming she’s not ready to separate either.

Moving into the suite, she sits at the bar as I pour us each a short glass of whiskey, grabbing a bar of dark chocolate from the array of sweets to accompany the liquor.

“Ooh, whiskey and dark chocolate, my favorite,” she rubs her hands together.

“Really? I didn’t know girls liked whiskey,” I say in mock shock.

“Oh yeah! It was all my dad drank, so I had to acquire a taste.”

With the restaurant crew walking in and out, removing all their equipment, the night passes us by while we continue to laugh about more of nothing.

“Can we tip?” she whispers.

“Oh yeah, don’t worry. He’ll come over once he’s finished to say goodnight and I’ll make sure to take care of him,” I nod my assurance.

“Okay, good. He was really nice,” she smiles, looking over her shoulder as he begins to approach.

“Thank you so much, sir,” he greets me as I stand to meet him.

“You were excellent. I really appreciate it,” Ava says, and the man blushes before slightly bowing.

“Have a good night,” I say, handing him four hundred Turkish lire. I’ve already tipped him in the booking of the service, and planned to give him a little extra, but since Ava made a point to request I tip him, I wanted to make sure he got enough for both of our gratitude.

“Oh, sir? More?” His eyes widen looking at the money.

After walking him to the door, I return to the bar to see Ava standing next to her chair. I can sense the nerves in the air, but I’m not sure why.

“I guess I should call it a night,” she shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

“Oh, okay,” I try to hide the disappointment in my voice.

“Thank you for a perfect day, Logan. Really, it was incredible.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I whisper, leaning down to wrap her in my arms.

Just as she pulls away, her soft lips graze against mine, and instinct takes over etiquette as I pull her into me, pressing my lips to hers. She moans, and I seize the moment, sliding my tongue into her warm mouth, kissing her passionately.

Ava pulls back, and I tug at her bottom lip with my front teeth, wanting more of her. I can see the internal battle from her eyes while she tries to stop herself.

Waiting for the answer, my heart feels ready to burst. Her breasts are rising and falling fast as our eyes remain locked on one another. In a split second, she blinks slowly before reaching up, gripping my hair, and pulling me back to her, crashing her lips to mine as our tongues dance together.

With my arms still wrapped around her, I lift her into the air and her thighs wrap around me as I carry her back to my bedroom.