Bride by Design 2: Manchala on the Mind (4 page)

BOOK: Bride by Design 2: Manchala on the Mind
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I nodded, wondering who Colin paid off to hide his past from the tabloids. He wasn't going to tell me what had happened, and I guess I didn't really need to know. It must have been something painful, and I had no right to pry it out of him - I was nobody to him, and I was just with him for a week.

 

I stepped out in front of my apartment, my mind still reeling from what Roger had claimed.

 

"I'll pick you up tomorrow at 3 pm," said Colin, and the limo sped away.

 

I was left to reassure myself, to convince myself that
Roger really was just a drunken, jealous competitor, and Colin was much nicer than he claimed.

 

 

 

Chapter
Four

 

Colin came by at exactly three, and I went downstairs with some trepidation.

 

I'd packed my passport, brush and some old makeup. I was wearing a floral sundress that'd been picked out for me yesterday, along with some new underwear. It was a strange feeling to go away for a week and not know what to expect, or even carry old things with you.

 

I'd told Katie
I was going away for work, that I'd gotten a short-term casual job as an assistant to a rich businessman. She'd nodded understandingly, not pressing me for details, and I promised to call her each day to check up on her. At that, she'd laughed, and told me she wasn't a baby and would be fine.

 

As soon as I entered the limo, I felt
Colin's
burning gaze on me. He eyed my new dress critically, and my body tingled under his inspection.

 

I sat opposite him and stared out the window, ignoring the goosebumps he was giving me.

 

"You look nice," he growled, "Are you wearing the new underwear as well?"

 

I nodded
curtly
. "Not that it's any of your business."

 

"Oh, but it is."

 

I turned to look at him.
T
he heat radiating from his body was magnetic and made me shiver.

 

His glance dropped to my waist and he said, "Show me."

 

"Th
at
wasn't part of the deal."

 

"No sex - that was the deal. I'm not sleeping with you honey, I just need to know you're obeying instructions."

 

I gulped and raised my skirt for him, thankful he couldn't see how his commands were turning me on.

 

He nodded, satisfied, and I dropped the skirt over my legs again.

 

"Now show me the bra."

 

I gasped and stared at him, but his eyes were narrowed and he didn't look like someone who accepted dissention.

 

I took a deep breath, slipped my arms out of the dress and pulled it downwards, freeing my breasts. The bra was made with flimsy lace, and when I pulled the dress downwards, one of the cups moved down too, exposing my hardened nipple. I pulled the material up quickly, but not before Colin had a good look and knew of my arousal.

 

He moved swiftly to sit beside me, and kissed my neck.

 

"You seem tense," he murmured, and placed his hand over my breast. "Let me help you with that."

 

He started to press down, kneading and rolling my breast in a c
ircular
motion. It felt amazing, and he kissed me slowly down my neck, making a beeline for my nipple.

 

His touch made me come to life, made me want more, but the rational part of me took over and
I
pushed him away roughly.

 

I moved to other seat and sank back. He had somehow pulled
both
my bra cups down, and my nipples were exposed. I knew my face was flushed, and even though he couldn't feel my wetness, he knew of it.

 

"We're not doing this," I groaned, and fixed my bra.

 

"Why not? You sure seem to like it."

 

I glared at him and started to pull my dress up. "Because I say so."

 

"Leave the dress." Colin leaned back against his seat and stretched his legs. "Give me something nice to look at."

 

I flushed and pulled it up decidedly. I wanted to glare at him, but I was too embarrassed by my bod
y's
reaction, and too worried what his gaze would do to me. I glared out the window instead.

 

Would this happen every day? I imagined a series of inspections, having to strip for him every day. He would eye me, maybe grope me. I imagined his hands on my breasts, on my ass, between my legs -
I
blushed and squirmed in my seat.

 

Colin never missed a beat. "Changed your mind?"

 

I crossed my arms
, shook my head
and tried to think of world poverty. Beached whales. The poor environment. Anything but Colin.

 

It was a relief to finally get to the airport, and we were whisked through
at
a fast pace. This wasn't the main JFK airport serving commercial flights, but a smaller, private place for the ultra-wealthy who preferred to use their own planes.

 

I w
as le
d
to Colin's plane - a modest, white jet with a beautiful interior.
It was decked out in cream and soft lights, the seats a gorgeous tan leather and the carpet a deep burgundy.

 

"Why do
you
ever fly commercial?" I wondered out loud, and Colin grinned.

 

"All planes need repairs, and mine was being maintained last week - lucky for me."

 

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and I had to laugh. He was too silly and lighthearted to stay mad at, and I allowed him to lead me to our seats. They were wide, attached side-by-side,
and I could tell they lay down flat when needed.

 

Colin removed the armrest between us, and we did up our seatbelts. I felt a bit awkward sitting
that
close to him, so I wiggled away to the far end of my seat.

 

Colin watched me with amusement and waved his arms around as he declared
in a broad Irish accent
, "Ye can't escape me, wench!"

 

I giggled helplessly, and allowed him to grab my waist and pull me towards him. He leered at me with exaggerated lecherousness, his face inches from mine, and I laughed at the absurdity of it all.

 

I wondered if he was going to kiss me, when the stewardess arrived.

 

She was tall, thin and beautiful, and batted her eyelids at Colin as she asked, "Would you like me to serve anything before takeoff, Mr Anderson?"

 

Colin let me go and winked at her. "It's Colin, thanks - and yes, we would love some champagne."

 

She simpered, and the rage
bubbled
inside me as she walked away, swaying her beautiful hips.

 

"You need a stewardess just for yourself?" The bitterness was evident in my voice, and I hoped my jealousy wasn't that obvious.

 

Colin shrugged. "Why not get every luxury you can afford? And having beautiful girls around is nice."

 

He stroked my neck carelessly, and I flinched and moved away.

 

I refused my champagne when it arrived, but Colin took his, and I thought he stroked the stewardess's fingers as he took his glass.

 

He sipped it slowly, and then a light went on overhead.

 

The b
londe stewardess arrived again and said apologetically, "I'm sorry sir, but we're ready to takeoff now."

 

She leaned forward to take his glass, bending down and revealing most of her voluptuous assets.

 

As soon as she was gone I
glared at
Colin and asked, "Get a good eyeful?"

 

He turned and looked at me appraisingly. I noticed how his eyes had specks of gold in them, and he said, "You're not jealous are you?"

 

I scoffed. "Of course not."

 

He started to slide a hand slowly up my inner thigh. "Because if you are, we can fix it, you know."

 

I pushed his hand away, and crossed my arms. We stayed silent till the plane had taken off, and then the stewardess appeared again.

 

"Would you like anything to eat or drink, Colin?"

 

She caressed his name seductively, and completely ignored me.

 

"No, that's fine. Why don't you go and relax in the cockpit, we can always get to the kitchen ourselves if we change our minds."

 

Colin's smile was broad, his voice charming and mesmerizing. She smiled and sashayed away.

 

I wanted to say something, but I was afraid I'd seem petty and jealous. I shrugged internally. So what if Colin wanted other girls? I wasn't with him really, and I didn't plan on being with him.

 

"Are you sure you're not jealous? Because you're looking at her like you want to rip her eyeballs out."

 

I gl
owered
at him. He looked smug and self-satisfied, as if he'd just earned a gold medal for something. "Don't act like you can read my mind. You can't, and I don't care if you want to flirt with other girls. Go
ahead and
sleep with everyone around, see if I care."

 

"Hmm, but you
should
care." He was smooth,
trailing his fingers down my hair and then grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him when I tried to glance away. "You're meant to be my bride, we're meant to be newlyweds. You should be jealous of every woman I glance at, and people will expect to see a lot of this."

 

His hands moved to the back of my neck, and his lips crushed down on mine. His tongue rushed in, insistent and demanding, and I pushed it back with mine, sucking and devouring him. My body burned with the heat from his mouth, my back arched, and I pressed myself into him for more
,
savoring
the warmth of his mouth
.

 

He responded, his kiss become more fervent, and I moaned into his mouth. I felt his hand pressing down on my breast, kneading it urgently, before it moved down to my thighs and slid up under my dress. He caressed m
e
over my panties, stroking me, pressing hard against my nub and making me thrash with desire.

 

I'm not sure how I did it, but at some point my brain switched on again and I pushed him off and moved across the aisle to the opposite seat.

 

From that safe distance, I glared at him. "This isn't happening."

 

"Why not?" His eyes were pleading and lustrous with desire, but I shook my head and narrowed my eyes.

 

"You're not seducing me."

 

He rai
sed an eyebrow. "Did you forget that
I
know
how wet you are? You know you want this."

BOOK: Bride by Design 2: Manchala on the Mind
6.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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