Alessandra Torre - End of the Innocence

She looked as devastatingly beautiful as her photos, no trick photography or Photoshop used to enhance her looks. I smiled, wondering if my nervous appraisal showed. “I’m Julia. Please come in.”

We moved as a group, two men, close in size to Brad, flanking the woman, their eyes moving everywhere, sizing up me and the situation in seconds. I led them upstairs and gestured toward the guest room. “If you would, please wait here, and we will be back in about a half-hour. Your security can sit outside the door; there are chairs in the bedroom that they can use. I left instructions in the room.” January nodded and one of the men spoke.

“I’m going to need to see ID for both you and Mr. De Luca.”

Right, ID. Riley had mentioned that, for the safety of the girl, proof of our identity would be required and would be documented. I left them in the hall and moved to the bedroom, closing the door and going to the closet, my fingers moving rapidly across the safe’s dial until it was open and our passports were in my hand. I locked the safe and returned, passing over the identification. “Here are our passports. Riley said you will return them after the event?”

He nodded, passing them to his partner, who reviewed them with a small penlight, then pocketed them.

I glanced downstairs, worried about the time we were taking. “We’ll be back shortly. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but there are cameras throughout the house, and an alarm will trip if anyone exits or enters. You’ll know when we return because the alarm will sound briefly, and I will turn on all of the lights.”

The man on the left grinned at me. “I understand and appreciate the information. We take no offense.”

I nodded to them and to the girl, then headed back downstairs, snagging my school bag on the way and arming the alarm before returning to Brad’s car.

I had chosen the diversion carefully, picking an errand that would take enough time for our food to settle, but one that would not leave Riley’s staff in the house unattended for too long of a period. I had worried about that detail of the plan, but Beverly had been quick to assure me of their trustworthiness. She had used The Montley House almost a dozen times, regarded every interaction a perfect transaction, and seemed to have boundless faith in every employee of The House.

My stomach was tight, a knot of rolling emotions as Brad’s car rumbled back from campus, his face calm, his hand reaching across the center console and holding my own. I forced my fingers to be loose, normal, as his thumb ran gently across my palm.

My other hand moved, reaching into my purse and wrapping around my phone. I could change my mind. Text and cancel this entire thing. January and the two protectors would leave, Brad and I would return, and we would go upstairs and have solo, break-the-bed sex. That would be enough. We were enough. We had proved that, again and again, with night after night of incredible makemytoescurl fucking. The threesomes, the parties, those were fairy dust sprinkled on the magic that we were, a way to remind us of the incredibleness of what we share.

Then Brad turned down Estate Drive, which led home. Home . Amazing that I already thought of it in that way. In four short months it would be. I would haul in boxes and hangers and picture frames, and it would go from his to ours. The Estate Drive sign meant time was up, and I couldn’t possibly text anyone, cancel anything now. I needed to put on my game face and stop being insecure. I hadn’t started dating this man, hadn’t agreed to marry this man, without being confident of my sexual ability. And now, with the blonde waiting upstairs, I had the opportunity to give him the best birthday present of his life. I allowed excitement in, the nervous anticipation turning into arousal, and grinned, the expression hidden in the dark car. I reached for the door handle as he put the car in park.

Brad smiled. It had been a good birthday. No mess, no fuss, no drama. A great dinner at Centaur with the woman who had stolen his heart. And now, home. Before, it had been simply a house, a place where he bedded women, ate Martha’s cooking, and slept. Now, with Julia’s light and warmth and messy adorableness, it had become more. He had begged, bribed, and seduced—all in an attempt to get her to move in. But she had stubbornly resisted, returning most nights to the hovel she called a home. And every night she slept away from him, he worried. He unlocked the door, disengaging the alarm, and felt the presence of her pass behind him, her hands flicking on lights as her heels clicked through the kitchen.

She moved perfectly, his eyes following her steps, the curves of her body underneath her dress, her shapely legs on perfect display atop sexy heels. He locked the door and caught up to her as she rounded the corner, heading for the stairs.

“Whoa,” he whispered into her neck, inhaling the scent of her as his hands wrapped around her waist and traveled up the front of her dress. His mouth nuzzled her neck and planted soft kisses on her fragrant skin.

“Brad,” she whispered, spinning from him and walking backward toward the stairs. “You can finish that upstairs.”

“I can’t wait that long,” he said gruffly, catching her hand and pulling her tightly to him. He lowered his mouth to hers, silencing her response, his hands tugging on the straps of her dress quickly, the material following the path of the straps, her lace-covered breasts quickly exposed to his hands. She groaned, her chest heaving once underneath his mouth, her hands pushing on his chest.

“Stop,” she said breathlessly, pulling up her dress until her perfect breasts were once again hidden. “Just wait a sec. I need something from upstairs.”

Before he could formulate a response, she was gone, the flash of red soles moving quicker than humanly possible up the staircase. He followed closely, his eyes on the curve of her ass. He grinned, reaching a hand up to grab her when he reached the landing and everything stopped at the sight of two men.

♥♥♥

I heard Brad behind me, getting closer, and I could tell you without looking that he would be reaching for me, intent on getting his hands on some part of my body. I felt triumphant when I reached the top landing untouched, and moved toward the guest room, my smile acknowledging the men that sat outside the door. Brad’s voice stopped me instantly, his tone one I had never heard from him. “Julia. Go to Martha’s.” I froze mid-step and turned to him.

His eyes were not on me, but on the two suits, the large bodyguards who flanked either side of the guest room door, seated in the two casual chairs that typically occupied the sitting area of the guest room. I instantly understood his concern and cursed my own lack of foresight. The two men rose at Brad’s tone, their stance one of combative preparation.

I moved three steps, until I stood in front of Brad and blocked his line of sight. His eyes flickered to me briefly, clouds of worry. “Brad, it’s okay. I called them here. They are fine.” My words took a moment to register, his eyes watching them instead of me, but then confusion crossed his handsome face, and his eyes met mine again.

I smiled, placing my hands gently on his chest and kissed his cheek. “Relax,” I whispered. Then I turned, stepping through the men and to the guest room, where I swung the door open wide for Brad’s eyes.

The room was dim but not dark, a big enough room that the bed was set back against a far wall, the lit candles revealing enough: glowing skin, blonde hair, porcelain features – the package lounged atop a cream duvet. Brad’s frame relaxed a fraction, and he glanced at the men with new understanding, then his gaze settled on my face, a look of confusion affecting his features in an adorable way I had never seen.