A Window to Love (Windows) (Volume 1) Read online

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  A Window to Love

  Book One in the Window Series

  Copyright © 2013 Fifi Flowers

  Edited by Ruthie Bradford

  Cover Design by Once Upon a Time Covers

  Painting by Fifi Flowers

  Published by Champagne Girl Studios

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Preview of Book Two

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  HERE I AM again, the lonely, single Melissa Camille Bennette standing amongst the beautifully dressed people of the art world. Yes, yet another annual holiday work party with no date. Another night of going home alone to emptiness. Alas, no kiss under the mistletoe. No one to take me home. No one to strip me out of my little black dress or the sexy black lace lingerie hidden beneath or my high heel fuck-me pumps. I didn't know why I bothered to attend these events. At least there were always plenty of tantalizing nibbles and continuous glasses of bubbly to drown my sorrows.

  Looking down at my watch, I realized it was nearing midnight, and decided that I had seen enough rubbing bodies, grinding hips and tangling tongues on the dance floor. My mind and body could no longer handle the loneliness. It was clearly time to get out of this ballroom. Wanting to prolong the beginning of another weekend alone for as long as possible, I decided maybe I needed a jolt of holiday spirit. What better place to feel the Christmas merriment than by catching a glimpse of a few department store windows filled with holiday ornaments? I headed to the coat check room, handed my ticket to the attendant, and then slipped into my heavy coat ready to brave the cool, crisp night that awaited me.

  Leaving the party at the Peninsula Hotel, I ventured out onto Fifth Avenue, heading uptown towards Central Park. I was hoping the holiday spirit would envelop me as the city's magic began to enchant me, taking away some of my sadness. The trees along the avenue were twinkling with white lights, large ornaments were playfully displayed on the sidewalks, holiday music rang in my ears, and chestnuts assaulted my nose. I have never liked the smell of roasting chestnuts, but I had to admit they did say “Christmas.” There is nowhere like the island of Manhattan for the holiday season. From the lighting of the grand Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center with the famous Rockettes high-stepping around the corner at Radio City Music Hall, to ice skating at The Rink or riding in a horse-drawn carriage through the snow in Central Park, it was as if a magical world was brought to life once year. If the weather gods were working in our favour, a white Christmas gave New York City the supreme holiday experience.

  The department store windows lent their own unique allure, heightening everyone's spirits as pure fantasy enchanted in each window. Adventures abound throughout the city behind panes of glass and delighted us. When I come upon the first holiday decorated window, old memories flood my brain. Since I was a little girl, I have loved visiting the holiday windows around New York City with my parents. During the Christmas season, it became a family tradition, and although they’ve been gone for seven years, it seemed like just yesterday we were taking our traditional stroll. My mother planned our adventure every year leaving no detail to chance. She would research all the windows while my father researched which restaurant we would end our night in for the perfect meal. We always rode to the city on the train and stayed at The Pierre right across from Central Park. This was the first time since their passing that I had ventured by these windows to stop and take a look.

  Now I am alone with only my memories of bundling up in scarves, mittens, hats and sipping steaming cups of hot cocoa as my parents, and I stood exactly where I stand now excitedly discussing every detail of the masterfully created miniature winter wonderlands. There was no excitement this year; there was no one to ooh and aah with, to dream with, to share the special spirit of the holiday.

  I stopped at the window of the renowned Bergdorf Goodman department store. My eyes began dancing around at all the trésors on display within the window. Pale, icy blue draperies dropped in long glistening sheets down either side of this dazzling fantasy world. The first thing that captured my attention was the exquisite Christmas tree dripping with tear-shaped jewels in brilliant shades of blue. Twinkling white lights made all of the gems sparkle, tantalizing my senses. The crown jewel of the window was a magnifique blue crystal chandelier which hung in the center of the window. Light blue droplets cascaded to the floor giving the illusion of an icy cold rain shower. Surrounding the chandelier, fragrance bottles floated at various heights decorating the open space. Some of the bottles had fallen and broken open, spilling blue liquid into pools on the ground. Light dancing off the liquid gave the illusion of ripples on a pond of blue water ensconced by bejeweled blue sea creatures. As my eyes darted around enchanted by all the blue reflections, I was drawn to an enormous, plush, blue velvet chair. Leaning up against the front of the chair was a large framed photograph. My heart started racing. Tilting my head, I looked into the most gorgeous face I had ever laid my eyes upon. Dark, thick, tousled hair; perfect for running my fingers through. Full lips looked as if they are waiting for me to trace them with my tongue. His piercing blue eyes, made even more pronounced by all of the blue elements, made my body tingle. The taunt body was just as moan-producing. I got a hint of his wide shoulders and broad chest. Yes, I was undressing this beautiful man. I licked my lips, letting out a soft sigh as my eyes slipped halfway closed.

  “Oh j'adore... what I would love to do with you!” I murmured faintly.

  Suddenly, my eyes fluttered open as I heard a husky, masculine voice, “Perhaps I can be of some assistance.”

  Have I said those words out loud?

  Startled, I turned and looked into darkened, smirking eyes; the same eyes as the ones in the window. I stumbled forward. Luckily, his strong hands reached out to catch me. The touch sent electricity shooting through my body and heat straight between my thighs. My heart rate accelerated and my breathing became erratic. I thought I may pass out. He was even more gorgeous in person. My fantasy man was dressed in a black three-piece suit with a crisp white shirt, a slate blue tie and a coordinating pocket square that intensified his blue eyes. His hair was a bit messy as if he had just run his hand through it. A shadow of facial stubble on his ruggedly handsome face accentuated his strong jaw line. Ooh la la, he was totally edible! Undeniably sexy.<
br />
  His grip remained firm. “What exactly did you have in mind to do with me?” he inquired as he raised a dark eyebrow in a suggestive manner, moving his face within inches of mine. “You have my full attention.”

  “I’m… I’m sorry. I thought I was alone,” I said breathlessly, gazing at his gorgeous mouth that was close enough to lick.

  “I'm not sorry. Although I am curious. I’m glad I followed you from the McDimel-Sanders’ party,” he said with a mischievous grin.

  “You followed moi?” I asked, confused.

  His hand slowly moved up to my mouth, and with his thumbs he lightly ran it across my bottom lip. “The beautiful lady speaks French, but I don't think you are French.”

  At the sound of him saying “French,” and the feel of his touch on my lips, my mind was reeling with thoughts of kissing his sensuous mouth. My body was reeling with thoughts of so much more.

  “Oui and non. I’m part French and part mystery. J'adore the language and I have a habit of throwing out a few words here and there.”

  He laughed at my rambling. I stared at his slight dimples. I wanted to lick them, too.

  Trying to regain control of myself, I asked, “Why are you following me?”

  His laughter turned to a soft chuckle as he stepped back and took my hand in his then bowed deeply from the waist, “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Evan Duke. By day, I am a highly paid clothing rack. By night, I save beautiful women from the dark streets of the city.”

  No longer smiling, he gave me a long, dark, penetrating look. “I wanted to make sure you made it safely to a cab, but then you started walking.” With a stern look on his face he continued, “It’s late. It’s dark and not safe for a beautiful lady to be roaming the streets of New York alone. You needed protection, so I followed you.”

  My face flushed at the thought of model Evan Duke thinking I was beautiful. Yes, that’s right. Evan Duke, the male supermodel of the moment. He did print ads for two of McDimel-Sanders’ big clients. McDimel-Sanders was an advertising firm and my employer. I worked in their art department working up storyboards for advertisements. The firm threw a large annual holiday party every year at the Peninsula Hotel, transforming the grand ballroom into famous nightclubs, inviting important clients and staff. This year’s themed nightclub was the Moulin Rouge complete with can-can girls dancing to modern DJ music. Of course Evan would be invited, although I didn’t see him at the party. He must’ve been seated in a VIP area of the ballroom. Special clients were rarely seated among the common office personnel, so I had no hope of seeing this dreamy man of my naughty fantasies.

  Without thinking I blurted out, “I couldn’t bear the thought of going home alone to an empty apartment. I needed a little dose of holiday cheer or joy or something, so I thought I would stroll by some holiday windows with the hope of prolonging the inevitable lonely night.” After this last statement left my lips, I felt pathetic and exposed.

  “Well, now that we’ve established that there isn’t a jealous boyfriend or husband at home waiting for you, you can take me home with you and show me what you would love to do with me.”

  Oh, how that devilish grin on that amazing face was making my heart beat wildly.

  Before I had a chance to respond, a strong hand was on my arm guiding me to a waiting car. “Charles, take us to Ms. Bennette’s home,” He gave Charles the name and address of my apartment building, and we were off.

  “You know my name and where I live?” I asked, tilting my head and raising an eyebrow in his direction.

  “I know a lot more about you than you think,” he answered looking straight into my soul, causing my breath to falter for a moment.

  Leaning back into the deep leather seats of his town car, I was curious. How and why does he know so much about me? A gorgeous stalker? No, he was clearly not a stalker. I was intrigued, but hesitant to ask more.

  Within minutes, we pulled up in front of my building. Phillip, my doorman, greeted me as he opened the door, “Hello Ms. Bennette. Hope you enjoyed your evening.”

  “Thank you, I did.” I said with a small grin on my face. “Goodnight, Phillip.”

  “Goodnight, Ms. Bennette.” Phillip called after us.

  Holding my hand, we entered the lobby and rode the elevator silently. I couldn't help but look up at him. He looked at me with a slight smile, squeezed my hand tighter and then brought it up to his lips, and gently brushed them across the inside of my wrist. His facial hair tickled me in a sensuous way. My knees felt a bit weak. I was surprised I was still standing. I had an overwhelming desire to jump in his arms, wrap my legs around him and ride him right here in the elevator. Oh oui, this was one of my many fantasies starring this hunk of a man. Oh mon dieu, I couldn't believe he was so close to me and going to my apartment.

  Once in front of my door, he asked for my keys and unlocked it. The touch of his hand on the small of my back as he guides me inside sent a vibration right down my spine. The hair on the back of my neck prickled and my panties moistened. I was thrilled with the idea of having this incredible man come home with me, but I wondered, what was I doing? I had not been with a man in years. Evan's a male model, he has women drooling all over him and wanting to bed him constantly. What was I thinking?

  I LOVE MY apartment with its high ceilings, boiserie paneled walls, hardwood floors and big windows that looked out onto Central Park. As always, my apartment was dimly lit as I hated to come home to darkness. The soft lighting gave me the feeling that I was expected, that someone left them on for me. Just before my parents died, they purchased the apartment I now call home, but tragically, never moved in. In the early days of living here, it was difficult to look around the apartment and not feel sadness, yet on the other hand, it made me feel close to them knowing I was living in their intended home.

  “Hey beautiful, are you okay?” He asked cupping my face with his hands, tilting it up so that I looked directly into those dreamy eyes that so captured me in the Bergdorf holiday window.

  “Sorry. I was just thinking...” my voice trailed off as I pushed all the sad thoughts aside.

  “Are you having second thoughts about having me here? Do you want me to leave?”

  Softly I whispered, “No,” as I gazed up into those pools of blue.

  In an instant, he captured my lips with his mouth, lightly brushing his tongue against mine. I let out a light gasp and his tongue slid into my mouth. I welcomed him with a moan, and he deepened the kiss. Pulling me into his body firmly, our tongues doing a rhythmic mating dance, we melt into each other as if we were a perfect fit.

  Suddenly our stomachs were growling, and Evan remarked, “Sounds as if you ate as much as I did at the party. I know it’s late and as hungry as I am for you, I'm starving. If you have food in your kitchen, I'll fix us a quick something to eat.”

  My tummy betrayed me again and growled. “I think my stomach is begging for something.” At the word “begging” I saw him raise an eyebrow and look at me sideways.

  I blushed at the sound of my words as a nervous giggle escaped me. Not wanting him to see my deeply reddened face, I led him quickly down the hallway and into the kitchen.

  Once in the kitchen he grabbed my waist and lifted me up onto the center island. “Let me fix something for us. We’ll need the nourishment to fuel us,” he said with a wink. Opening the refrigerator, he pulled out eggs, cheese, and a baguette. Before he started prepping our food, he removed his jacket, waistcoat, and tie and draped them over the back a stool. Next, he rolled up his shirt sleeves, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt. Mmmm, and now I was privy to more of his body up close and personal as he exposed his tanned smooth skin. I could see strong muscular forearms with pronounced veins and imagined touching them. The hint of his chest muscles were visible where his shirt was slightly open. They enticed illicit thoughts and without thinking my hand moved to my mouth. I couldn’t help but bite my finger tip as naughty thoughts continued to flood my mind.

  “Ooh la la
! A little striptease for moi?” I giggled.

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “Is that what you want, bébé?” Leaning towards me, he placed a chaste kiss on my lips, my nose and then my forehead. “Tell me where everything is, and I'll get started on our midnight snack.” I started to slip off the island, but he grabbed my waist. “Stay put. Just tell me where everything is. I want you on display for me.” I received another kiss and without thinking I moaned. Suddenly, I could care less about food. I wanted him as my midnight snack. He looked positively delicious, and I swooned when he suggested with a twinkle in his eye, “If you feel like taking off some of your clothes, I wouldn’t object.”

  Barely composed, I giggled, kicking off my shoes. He gave me a look that said shoes were not what he was hoping to see me remove. I looked straight into his beautiful face, and giving him an innocent look, I rattled off where he could find what he needed. Effortlessly, he whipped up an omelet for us to share while I sliced the baguette. I was in awe when he flipped the cooked egg in the air, and it returned perfectly to the pan.

  “Culinary classes in your spare time?”

  “No, but a very good friend is an amazing chef. I watch and learn,” he answered with a wicked grin.

  Evan plated the eggs and sat on a stool below me. With one fork, he took a bite and then fed me until the plate was clean. No words were spoken between us. Our eyes were locked. Moving the plate out of the way, he spread my legs apart and rested them on either side of his muscular body. He pushed up the hem of my dress, exposing the tops of my thigh-high nylons. He gently rolled the stockings down my legs, slowly, methodically, caressing and kneading until they are removed. I couldn't stop myself from moaning. The throbbing heat intensified and moisture began to pool between my thighs. I tried to squeeze them together, but he held my legs firmly apart. Leaning over, he nipped at my bare thigh and growled, “You smell good enough to eat.” I moaned and slid myself forward on the counter, wrapping my arms around his neck, capturing his hair in my fingers, he devoured my mouth. He broke from our kiss long enough and said, “Time for you to show me what you would love to do with me, bébé.” Scooping me up into his big, strong arms, he whispered, “Bedroom?” I pointed the direction.