The Allure Of Julian Lefray Part 25

Josephine I'd walked in my first-and most likely last-New York Fashion Week show and I could hardly wrap my head around the insanity of it. I'd been sewn into a dress, had my makeup done and my hair professionally styled, and then they'd shoved me out from backstage like a mama bird pushing her baby bird out of the nest...and I'd SOARED.

I didn't trip once, I posed at the end of the runway, and a ton of photographers from giant magazines had snapped my photo as if they were actually going to do something with it. (I'll probably share the next US Weekly cover with Kate Middleton and her new baby.) A few of the kinder models had adopted me into their group and I'd made sure to snap a ton of photos with them for my blog. My readers wouldn't believe the story when I finally got around to sharing the juicy details about my night. Of course, I'd probably dedicate an entire month to posts about the show. Oh that picture? That's just me and GISELLE, chillin' in designer duds like it's the most normal thing in the world.

And the dress? I wasn't ever going to take it off. Ever. The st.u.r.dy midnight blue material was structured and tailored to my body so that it emphasized my curves. It accentuated my b.r.e.a.s.t.s without needing a bra (which, for us well-endowed females, is practically a miracle in and of itself). The fabric wrapped tightly around my waist and there was a sharp slit that ran up the center of my left thigh. It was seductive and beautiful, and as I walked into the after party, I actually felt like I belonged.

I followed the group of models to a table off to the side, taking in the party as I went. Drinks were flowing and waiters were carrying around silver trays of hors d'oeuvres that I stared at longingly but didn't dare touch.

We crowded around a small c.o.c.ktail table and I listened to the other models discuss their own versions of fashion week. They tallied up the shows they'd walked in and the number of couture outfits now sitting in piles back at their apartments. I listened with wide eyes, practically melting on the spot. I considered bragging about some of the more picturesque dust piles I'd swept up in my prior NYFW experiences, but I feared that most of the models didn't share my sense of humor.

I was about to combust at the sheer awesomeness of the night when I felt a hand wrap around my arm, just above my elbow. I knew the grip, knew the feel of those fingers on my skin.

I stepped back to turn just as a seductive voice whispered against my ear.

"I didn't realize you moonlighted as a model."

Gooseb.u.mps bloomed down my arms as I registered the familiar voice. I inhaled a breath and glanced over my shoulder to find Julian standing there. A sharp navy suit stretched across his broad shoulders and chest. Black hair framed his sharp features and his eyes shown like two fiery embers in the club lighting. Desire spiked my veins as my eyes slid over him.

When I didn't respond to his comment, he arched a dark brow.

"Jo?"

I swallowed and wet my lips.

He didn't let go of my arm and when I turned toward him, my body brushed right up against his. His fingers tightened on my arm as my hip grazed his.

"It's a long story," I shrugged, trying to make the last four hours seem far simpler than they'd actually been.

He glanced down at my red lips and then his gaze lowered farther. The sweetheart bodice on my dress was likely his favorite part of the design. When he met my eyes once again, there was a faint smile where there hadn't been one before.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, trying to slow my racing heart. Having him there, this close to me, felt like it might be too much for me to handle. Usually I was around him in controlled environments. This? With me in a dress that was made for sin and him in a suit that I wanted to rip right off? He was temptation personified.

"Lorena dragged me to the show," he explained. "She and I were invited to the after party as well. When I saw you walking in the show, I couldn't very well turn it down."

I smiled and glanced over his shoulder to see if she was still around.

"She just left in a cab a minute ago," he said, answering my unspoken question.

I glanced back at him and swallowed slowly. So there we were. Alone. He looked divine in his navy suit. It was the perfect complement to his immaculate bone structure. He was sharp lines, hard edges, subtle lips, and inviting eyes. Every detail blended into an alluring combination, one that called to me like a bad habit.

"So now you're here all by your lonesome?" I asked, just to confirm my suspicions.

He smiled. "If you won't have a drink with me, then I guess I am."

I glanced down to give myself a reprieve from his stare. Truth be told, a drink with a man dressed like James Bond sounded too good to pa.s.s up.

"I'd love one."

He directed me toward the bar with utter confidence: a firm hand on my lower back, his hip touching mine as we waited in line. I bit my lip to keep from turning toward him and saying something I'd regret. He didn't feel like my friend, Julian. He felt like a devil in disguise.

"What would you like to taste?" he asked, rubbing a slow circle in the small of my back.

I smiled with understanding. "Whatever you're having."

He nodded and turned toward the bartender. "Two gin and tonics."

We stepped to the side to allow the next guests to order, but Julian stayed close.

"I haven't told you how beautiful you look yet."

I blushed under the weight of his compliment and glanced away. "You don't have to, it's just all the makeup and stuff they put on me before the show."

His finger skimmed over my shoulder, down the length of my arm. My stomach clenched in response and for a brief moment, I closed my eyes, letting his touch consume me.

"I know it's more than that," he said, just as I heard our drinks placed down in front of us.

I sipped mine like a man dying of thirst, hoping the burn of alcohol would quiet my nerves.

"What'd you think of the show?" I asked, trying to keep my gaze on anything but him. Not that it mattered; his entire appearance was already burned into my memory. That slicked-back dark hair, tan skin, defined jaw. There was no point in reminding myself of how hard it was to deny my desire for him.

"The show was lovely, but I didn't care to watch anyone but you," he replied before taking a long sip of his drink.

I looked over my shoulder, careful to see if anyone was watching us. We were in the corner of the venue, by far the least entertaining people in the room, and yet I felt like we were on full display.

"Julian, is this a good idea?" I asked.

He arched a brow.

"Is what a good idea?"

"You and I testing the limits like this? Things worked best when we were just keeping things platonic. Wouldn't it be easier that way?"

His jaw clicked in annoyance at my questioning and instead of answering, he finished off his drink, took my empty cup, and dropped them both on a table beside us.

"You know what?" he asked, skimming his hand down my arm until his fingers were entwined with mine. "I don't think I care anymore."

He gripped my hand and dragged me out of the room after him, almost too quickly for me to keep up. I had to pick up my pace and even then he wouldn't slow down.

"Julian. Slow down. Seriously."

He acted as if he couldn't hear me.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

He didn't reply and he didn't let go of my hand. We stepped through the door of the club and were met with brisk night air. I crossed my free arm over my chest, trying to shield as much of my skin from the chill as possible.

Julian walked to the line of cabs, nabbed the first one, and held the door open for me.

"Are you getting in?" he asked with a dark gleam in his eye. There was no please, no sugarcoating. He wouldn't tell me where we were going and he wouldn't promise to be a perfect gentleman when we got there.

I could get in the cab and see where he'd take me or I could step away and go back into the party, maybe even push Julian away for good.

The edge of his mouth curved up as he watched me wrestle with indecision. I think he knew I'd already made up my mind. What was there to decide anyway? How many times could you deny yourself a craving that you fantasized about day in and day out? Why should I care about keeping my life on a perfectly straight course when it kept throwing wild curves at me?

Instead of giving him an answer, I stepped closer, wrapped my hands around his neck, and kissed him. Hard. I tilted my head and bit down on his bottom lip. He wrapped his arms around my biceps and held me against him. His tongue slipped into my mouth and I moaned, pressing even closer to him. I could feel his heart beating in time with mine. This was it. I was getting in that cab and I'd find out if Julian Lefray was worth the days and days of agonizing over him.

"Are you two getting in or what?" the cabbie asked.

I pulled back, out of Julian's reach, and pressed the back of my hand to my lips. Julian smiled apologetically at the driver as he ushered me into the back seat. He held my hand, a.s.sisting me as I slid to the opposite side and watched him slide in after me. The scent of his cologne swept in alongside him and I had to grip my hands together in my lap to keep from mauling him.

My dress rode high on my thighs, just inches away from revealing too much. Julian directed the driver toward his hotel and I skimmed my finger along the hem, wondering just how long we were going to have to contain ourselves in the back of the cab.

Then again, why did we have to contain ourselves?

I didn't want to stop. Who knew how long it'd take us to get to his hotel. I'd just had the best kiss of my life and I wanted more. I knew we couldn't have s.e.x in the back of the cab, but the driver was more than occupied with his eyes on the road. Short of slipping off my dress, I knew he wouldn't notice what we were doing. I could tease Julian a bit, just enough to drive him mad.

As soon as we pulled out into traffic, I dropped my hand to Julian's knee.

He shifted an inch closer and met my eye. He didn't speak, but the question lay in his eyes all the same.

What do you think you're doing?

I smirked and let my hand drift higher.

He gripped my wrist to stop me, but I pushed on, dragging my nails along the inseam of his suit pants.

"Have a fun night?" the cabbie asked.

Julian cleared his throat and nodded.

I smiled and inched farther up his leg. I couldn't unzip his pants-it'd be too loud-but I could drive him crazy through the thin material just fine.

"What was your favorite part?" I asked, wanting to hear the l.u.s.t in his voice again.

He slid his gaze to me and narrowed his eyes. His grip on my wrist lessened, but I could still feel my pulse against the pads of his fingers. It was my tell. Each thump let him know just how much I was craving him. My heart rate was frenzied because of him.

"I don't think it's happened yet actually," Julian replied, watching me with interest.

"Oh, is there another party or something?" the cabbie asked.

I laughed and skimmed my hand an inch higher.

"Something like that," Julian said, clamping down on my wrist as soon as I met my goal. I smiled. He was just as hard as I'd been antic.i.p.ating, but I couldn't move my hand with him gripping my wrist as tightly as he was. I jutted out my bottom lip. b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

"Is this all right?" the cabbie asked.

I glanced outside and realized we were already at Julian's hotel. I wasn't ready for the cab ride to be over; I wanted to keep teasing him. I wanted to drive him crazy with my hand so that he could repay the favor later.

Julian reached for his wallet to pay the cab fare, but he never loosened his grip on my wrist. Whether it was conscious or not, it felt like he was doing it so that I wouldn't bolt at the last minute. We'd come to these crossroads before, but this time there'd be a different outcome.

There was no turning back now.

Chapter Thirty-Eight.

Julian We were civilized as we walked through the lobby. I held her hand and we walked fast, keeping eye contact with the bank of elevators at the end of the lobby. The woman behind the front desk greeted us and I threw her a wave before picking up the pace.

I pressed the call b.u.t.ton as Josephine slid her gaze to me and revealed a slow, private smile. I squeezed her hand tighter as the doors to the elevator slid open and we stepped inside.

The moment the doors closed, I pushed Jo to the wall. All civility was lost. She bit my lip as I slammed her hands against the wall over her head and she ground her hips against mine. I was tracing the top of her dress with my finger when the elevator dinged and the doors swept open twenty floors below our final destination.

I jumped back, giving us s.p.a.ce to breathe as a couple dressed in cowboy boots and rhinestone hats stepped into the elevator.

Jesus Christ.

Jo's chest was rising and falling as if she'd just finished a marathon. Her cheeks were flushed and she had her hand pressed to her stomach, trying to calm herself down.

The couple didn't even seem to notice. The woman glanced from her to me and then smiled wide.

"Are you two real New Yorkers?" she asked with wide, curious eyes.

Odd question for a hotel elevator.

Jo smiled and nodded. "Do we look like it or something?"

The woman pulled her purse off her shoulder and dug inside of it. "You're both just so glamorous. Could we get a picture?"

Jo met my gaze and I arched a brow.

"Just of us two?" she asked the woman.

The woman stopped digging and pulled out a giant camera. She handed it off to her husband-who didn't seem at all phased by his wife's request-and stood on the other side of Jo.

"I'll be in it too," she replied jovially.

I laughed. Only in New York.

I stepped closer to Jo and she wrapped her hand around my stomach. I could still feel the excitement surrounding her. Her body practically hummed with desire. I had my hand on her hip as the man positioned the viewfinder in front of his eye. Then, as he was about to snap the photo, I slid my hand down over Jo's a.s.s, dangerously low. She pinched my side to stop me, but it was too late. The man snapped the photo and Josephine practically came apart in my hands.

They thanked us for the photo, stepped off after a few more floors, and then Jo turned her angry gaze on me.

"Really cute, Julian. They totally knew what you were doing."