10.26.2009

Twittering Twat (Part 2)

{Continued from Part 1}

I gave a quick wave 'hello' and walked towards him as he headed over to my car.

"Hi! How's it going, let me help you with that", I said as I offered to take his bags for him. Maybe it was just me, but I felt like I was off to an awkward start. I felt like the help.

"Oh, no worries! I'll take care of it," came a smooth husky voice. I stood aside and watched as he placed his bags in my backseat. He closed the door and turned to me with a handshake.

"Hi, I'm Brad," he said, cutely in his mellowly husky tone.

"Hi, I"m Jade, nice to meet you!" I shook his hand, and we both got into the car.

Fuck, I can't get over how nervous I am, I thought. How can this possibly be happening!? I'm supposed to be calm, cool and collected. Professional! I quickly glanced down at my boobs and happily noticed my push-up bra doing wonders for me and my tight v-neck shirt.

I ended up driving around aimlessly for about 15 minutes, trying to figure out where to go for coffee while we shot the shit and he told me about his busy schedule, shooting his TV show, traveling here and there and all his upcoming media interviews.

"Ok, sorry to digress, but are you cool with Whitespot? I can't think of anything else and I'm not too sure where we are!"

"Sure!"

That was easy, I thought. A billionaire and I go for coffee and the best I can do is Whitespot. Fucking fantabulous. And to top things off, I kept talking about how 'ravished' I was because I never have enough time to eat. And then we get seated and we both end up ordering oatmeal. With fruit. And coffee. Totally smooth and inconsistent, I sarcastically tell myself.

I brought my book of questions with me, but never opened them up. I was nervous but calm enough to actually hold some kind of a conversation but it was still kinda weird. I kept blanking out so we kept having these awkward little silences. I mean, come on, I was still really star struck. This guy's a billionaire, I told myself, he owns sports teams and entertainment groups, pricey cars and mansions, has a TV show, is widely recognized...and I'm chillin' at a Whitespot with him!

"So, um, what have you been up to?" Brad casually asks me, sensing a bit of a stall in convo.

Fuck, he senses the weirdness too.

"Oh just work. I'm in PR but I'm determined to become an entrepreneur. I have a bazillion ideas on the go all the time but I need to learn more. I guess that's why we're here." I smiled, imagining kicking myself in the head: what kind of professional uses the word 'bazillion'?

And then for about five seconds we just kind of stared at each other. And this is overtly awkward and I had to somehow un-awkward the situation, so I laughed and asked "What?".

"Oh nothing...you're alarmingly stunning, that's all."

Did he just hit on me? OMG BRAD SCOTT, THE BRAD SCOTT JUST THREW ME A LINE, I thought to myself. My heart started pounding...quick, say something...something...anything!

"Well...um...thanks," I mustered up, trying to hide my intense and forthcoming shade of red in my face. I laughed nervously and grabbed my cup of coffee for comfort. I had to look away. I was doing so well too, this entire time, making good eye contact, trying not to think about what sex would be like with a man twice my age, whose daughters and son were only two years younger than I.

"You don't have to hide it....you are gorgeous," he continued. I looked up at him, gave a nervous giggle and retorted with something like "you're not too bad yourself!". I felt like the biggest dork, ever and quickly changed the subject to something else. The rest of the "meeting" was a blur.

The check arrived and I plunked down my card. Of course, being a gracious gentleman, he wouldn't let me pay and said, "You get the next one...we'll go to Morton's next time", and flashed his sexy-older-man smile.

We both got up and headed to the car and I found myself walking in front of him, despite still talking. Did he slow down so he could watch me from behind, I wondered. I turned back to look, and he had his Ray Bans on again and I felt his eyes burning into me. A little creepy, I'll admit.

We got into the car and I started driving back to the airport, making small chitchat again. Somehow we started talking about Halloween and I told him about how I dressed up as a race car driver in a "tight black and red latex racing suit". Once again, the awkward silence came on and he leaned into, Ray Bans on again.

"I double dare you to wear that to dinner next time," he teased, and continued, "I'm sorry, I should probably take these off." He smiled, but never took off his sunglasses. I sensed a sexual tension, a wave of erotic suffocation that I had no control over and couldn't take any action against. I could smell him, his skin had the scent of salt water and too much sun and the great outdoors from a weekend spent on the island.

"No, that's ok."

After what seemed like forever, we arrived at the airport.

"Well thank you very much for meeting with me, I had a great time." Brad said. He took his sunglasses off and leaned across towards me, gesturing for a kiss. HOLYFUCK, does he want me to kiss him? I wondered. My heart was pounding and I started to feel awkward again so I quickly leaned in and gave him one of those polite-french-people kisses on the side of the cheek.

"Me too! Thanks again for meeting me on such short notice." I quickly jumped out of the car to grab his bags and he met me on the other side to help.

"So next time, we'll hit up Morton's!" I laughed and handed him his bags.

"Definitely," he smiled. He leaned in for a goodbye hug and the next thing I knew, his mouth was coming at me again... for a kiss? I wondered. And then, it happened. Too late. He started kissing me. Like, mouth on mouth, and in that moment, I was so shocked that we were lip-locked, I felt like a spectator in my own body. Only...wanting more but not wanting it, all at the same time. His masculine outdoorsy scent filled my head as our tongues met in a passionate entanglement and his five o'clock shadow rubbed against my face, making me wonder what it'd feel like on my neck, breasts, in between my legs.

And before I could do anything, it was over as quickly as it had begun.

"Wow...I, um...totally didn't expect that," I pulled away and laughed nervously.

"Me either. It was nice."
Brad gathered his bags, I straightened my shirt and we said our goodbyes. And I peeled off as fast as I could, pressing every speed dial button I could press to call Lauren and Adelle.

Holyshitballs....Bradley fucking Scott and I had just made out.


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