The Beauty Series Bundle (36 page)

I
didn’t expect
him to go along with dancing for me—at least not without a debate. I’m surprised he agreed so easily—maybe a little too easily—but I don’t care. He looks so damn hot doing it… like, flaming hot.

He turns his back on me and I watch as he moves perfectly with the music, wiggling out of his white button-down and tossing it over his shoulder. It lands on my legs so I lift it to my nose. It smells delicious, just like him.

His hands are on the back of his neck as he thrusts his pelvis forward with the song’s tempo. All I can see from the back is the motion of his beautiful ass, and I imagine the way it looks when he’s thrusting it between my legs.

He spins to face me and puts his palms on his chest. He glides them down as he rotates his hips in a circular motion to the music. When his hands get to the crotch of his pants, he holds them out to use as a wall to bump and grind against.

“Ooh, I like that.”

He laughs as he says, “You’ll like it a lot better when I’m between your legs doing it.”

His promise sends a rush of heated desire straight to the area he’s talking about. “Bite your lip for me while you do it.” He smirks but does as I tell him. “Mmm, that’s hot, but I think it’s time for you to come out of those pants. You’re overdressed for a stripper.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says. He reaches for the fly. “Anything for you.”

He kicks off his shoes and then slides his jeans down without his boxer briefs. I think it’s the first time I ever remember one going down without the other, but this is all about the tease and prolonging it to make me crazy with desire. So far, it’s highly successful.

When he’s down to only his boxer briefs, I see the proof of how turned on he is. When he sees me notice, he smirks and slowly slides his underwear down over his hard-on before he kicks them over next to his pants. He puts his hands on the back of his head and thrusts his hips to the music as the bites his lip again. “I’m the only one not overdressed here.”

“I think you’re right,” I agree as I rise to my knees and pull my dress over my head. I’m kneeling on the bed wearing only my pink lace bra and matching panties. “Better?”

“You’re gettin’ there.”

I reach behind my back and unfasten my bra. I let the straps slide down my arms as I hold the cups in place, and his eyes smolder as he waits for the rest to drop. He watches my every motion as I finally free my breasts from their entrapment.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful your breasts are?”

I shake my head as I crawl to the edge of the bed. “No.”

He takes them in his palms once I’m within reach and rubs his thumbs over my nipples. “They’re perfect in every way. Everything about you is.”

He pulls me closer and kisses my neck in the bend where it meets my shoulder. “I’m not perfect.”

He moves his mouth lower and is about to take my nipple into his mouth when he looks up to meet my eyes. “You are to me.”

I glide my fingers through his thick hair as I feel his tongue running circles around my nipple. His hand caresses my other breast while his thumb mimics the motion of his tongue. I drop my head back and a moan escapes as I arch closer to his mouth.

His palm leaves my breast and I feel each of his hands on my hips pushing the waistband of my panties down. I lift one knee at a time and he slides the pink lace down my calves and over my feet. After he flings them to the floor, I wrap my arms over his shoulders and he lifts me off the bed. I wrap my legs around him but he quickly lowers me onto my back while he remains standing next to the bed. He lifts my feet to hook my knees over his shoulders, grasps my hips, and tugs them until his face is between my legs. I know what he’s about to do, but he’s never done it like this. And I’m excited about seeing how this goes.

His hand is splayed open across my stomach and it wanders a path up between my breasts. I feel the rhythm of his warm breath between my legs. It ignites waves of tingles and I can’t stop my innate reaction to squirm in anticipation. “Someone knows what’s coming to her and I think she’s getting a little anxious.”

Anxious is an understatement. Desperate would be a more suitable term for what I’m feeling. “I’m going to scream if you don’t put your mouth on me.”

“You say you’ll scream if I don’t. I say you’ll scream if I do,” he teases. His eyes never leave mine as his tongue makes one slow sweep up my center. He licks his lips and says, “Always so sweet. I love to taste the sugar below your waist.”

Oh, my. He’s in the dirty talk mode. That means he’s gonna make me orgasm even faster.

“You need something to sweeten that filthy mouth of yours.”

“You love my vulgar mouth—especially when it does this.” He presses it against me and I feel the suction of his mouth right where I need it most. He alternates licking and sucking, leaving me with an intense, divine pleasure. Each time he brings me incredibly close to the edge, he somehow senses I’m on the verge and reels me back. It’s like being in the middle of a euphoric tug-of-war, and it’s one of the most splendid things I’ve ever experienced. And frustrating because he isn’t letting me come.

“Aah… aah… you’re doing that on purpose.”

“What am I doing on purpose?” He says it like he’s so innocent and has no idea what I mean.

“You know what you’re doing. You’re keeping me from coming.”

He cuts his eyes up at me. “So, you’re ready to get off?”

“Yes,” I say so low, it comes out like a whisper. I am desperate.

“Then say it—from one filthy mouth to another—tell me what you want me to do to make you come and I’ll do it.”

He’s holding my orgasm hostage so he can get what he wants. “You love to hear dirty things come out of my mouth. It turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. I fucking love it. I especially go crazy when I hear you tell me what you want me to do to you.”

Okay. He was being honest with me, so I should do it. It’s something he likes and I want him to be pleased. By telling him what I want, I’m pleased too, so I slide my hand down between my legs and touch myself. “I want you to suck me right here until the only thing I can do is scream because I’m coming so hard.”

“That was so hot, baby. I’m about to blow your fucking mind.”

I reach for the top of his hair and pull his face down. “Then fuck me with your mouth and don’t stop again until you make me scream.”

I can’t believe I said that. Until I feel his mouth obeying my orders and I know I did. “Oh… oh… oh, that feels so damn good but use your fingers. I want to feel it inside and out.” One—and then two—of his fingers begin to slide in and out of me. He’s sucking hard enough to leave a hickey on the top of my girlie parts and I’m so close to orgasming, I think my eyes have rolled back in my head. I clench a handful of his hair and yank a little. “Oh… ah… fuuuuck!” I scream as he puts the Dyson vacuum suction on my quim.

My entire body tenses as I feel those quivers inside me. Oh, how I have missed those Jack Henry-issued quivers. Nothing compares to them. Believe me—me, myself, and I have tried.

I relax my tense muscles as Jack Henry lowers my legs from his shoulders. “Damn, baby. Everybody on this floor, including the one above and below, heard you come undone.”

“I’m too blissed out to care,” I tell him as I scoot away from the edge of the bed. I grab him behind his neck to take him with me; I don’t want to go a single second without feeling his body pressed against mine.

He falls against me roughly as my back hits the mattress. “Sorry,” he apologizes as I reach for his ass and slap both of my hands down before I squeeze his cheeks and pull him hard between my legs. “What’s gotten into you?”

I’m rubbing my girlie parts against his not-so-girlie parts. “I’m hoping it’ll be you that’s gotten into me.”

“Babe, if you don’t watch yourself, you’re gonna have me believing you’re a closet dirty talker.”

“Maybe I was, but I’m coming out.” I wrap my hand around his hard cock and move it up and down. “Now, speaking of coming…”

“Ooh, I like this.”

I’m trembling because I want him inside me so badly, so I slide his erection up and down through my slick slit to coax him inside. “Come on, Jack Henry. Fuck me. Please.”

He thrusts inside me without any warning and I gasp at the sudden intrusion. I want him inside me fast and hard and after I adjust to him moving in and out, I bring my legs up around his waist. I use them to encourage him to thrust harder. “You’re insatiable tonight,” he says as he jerks out of me and moves to stand next to the bed. He grabs my ankles and drags me over to where he’s standing. “That wasn’t doing it for either one of us. Turn over so I can fuck you the right way.”

I slide off the edge of the bed until my feet touch the floor. I spin around and bend over to press my face into my pillow because I know he’s going to make me scream again. He grabs my hips and gives them a squeeze before he pulls them backward to drive his cock inside me. I push up onto my tiptoes to bridge the gap in our height difference. “That’s it, right there. Just like that.”

I grab my pillow and bite it as he pounds harder into me, but I can tell when he’s getting close. I’ve come to know his body well and he always slows his thrusts toward the end because he’s trying to prolong his pleasure. But his orgasm always takes over—and it does this time too—when he drives hard into me and calls out my name.

I love the sound of my name through his clenched teeth.

“You have no idea how hot you look when you’re bent over like this with my cock still inside you.”

“I’ve decided I’m getting a tattoo across my lower back that says, ‘Lucky you.’”

He pulls out and bends over to kiss my lower back before he runs his tongue over it. “No ink for you here. Ever! That would ruin it for me.”

I know how he loves my lower back, but would ink really ruin it for him? “Really?”

“I’m serious.” His voice is stern. “Don’t even entertain the idea, or I will go caveman all over your arse.”

“I thought you just did.”

“I’m talking about a different kind of caveman, baby.” He rubs his hand over the dip he just licked. “One you wouldn’t like.” I hear the seriousness in his words. There have been times when Jack Henry has shown me the beast inside him. I didn’t care for it much and I don’t plan to provoke it.

I
t would kill
me if she ever marked my spot with ink. I love the tattoo around her ankle and the piercing in her belly button, but I think she’s good. No more ink or holes in her body.

I slap her playfully on her hip. “Get up in that bed so I can cuddle with you before you go to sleep and push me away.”

She climbs up on all fours and crawls toward the head. “I didn’t push you away last night.”

“You didn’t because we’ve been apart for so long, but I know you, and it’s coming. You like your space and you’re not going to let me be in it when it’s time to sleep.”

I lie down and she nuzzles into her usual spot, her head on my shoulder, her leg thrown over mine. “You know we have reversed roles, right? The guy is the one who usually doesn’t want to spoon and the chick wants to be all hugged up on him.”

I’m not ashamed to admit that I have developed a lot of chick-like behavior when it comes to her. “I know, but I can’t help it. I love having you close. I want you within my touch all the time. I don’t want you to slip away again.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She’s told me that before. “You promised me I wouldn’t come home to find you gone, but I did.”

Her finger is tracing that endless swirl on my chest. “Our circumstances were different when I made that promise.”

“I came back for you that day you left. I was going to ask you to stay after I told you I loved you.”

She lifts her head to look at me. “You loved me then?”

“Of course, I did.” She doesn’t say anything and I suspect it’s because she’s thinking about how different our lives would’ve been if I’d found her instead of that letter. “Would you have stayed?”

“Yes. All I wanted was for you to ask me.”

But our lives are different from what they were when she disappeared three months ago. She isn’t the same person and who she is now could very well keep her from coming back to me.

I kiss the top of her head and we’re quiet. I have a hunch that both of us are lost in the thoughts of what might have been. We’d be approaching the six-month mark if she’d stayed. I’m sure I’d be getting ready to propose if I hadn’t already. I don’t know. Maybe we would’ve eloped. “What are you thinking?” I ask, hoping she’ll tell me she imagines us engaged or possibly even married.

“The same thing you are—wondering what our lives would be like if we’d spent the last three months together instead of apart.”

I want her to be more specific about where she thinks our relationship would be. “What do you think we’d be doing?”

“I’m pretty sure we’d be doing what we just did. It’s sort of our thing.” That’s not really the answer I was looking for, but I’ll take it.

“I agree with that. Shagging seems to be one of our favorite things to do.”

She giggles as she says, “Shagging. We don’t say that but I like it. Did you know Margaret calls it nookie?”

She called it whatever when I spoke to her last night. “I wasn’t aware of that. When have you discussed nookie with my mum?”

“She came to see me at Avalon a couple of weeks before I left. She suggested I show you all the reasons you should ask me to stay—which included putting it on you hard.” She’s covering her face with her hands and giggling again. “She told me a little nookie wouldn’t hurt.”

For fuck’s sake. I can’t believe my mum told Laurelyn to put it on me. Whose mum does that kind of thing? Oh, wait—that would be mine. “She told me about her visit. As I recall, you took her advice because I stayed between your legs those last two weeks. I practically pitched a tent and camped out there.”

She slaps her hand down against my chest and it makes a loud popping sound. “And a lot of good it did me since it didn’t work.”

I reach up and put my hand on top of hers. “It worked. You just didn’t stick around long enough to let me ask.”

“We’d know everything about each other by now.” She sounds sad and I don’t want her to be.

“We can catch up,” I reassure her. “What do you want to know?”

Apparently, that gets her attention because she shoots up in the bed, legs crossed. It’s a little distracting to have her sitting like that with her love canal staring me in my face. “We’ve never talked about why you are the way you are.”

Why I’m the way I am? That’s a loaded question that could be interpreted in a number of different ways. “Scientists all agree that genetics make me the way I am. Half of my DNA comes from my mother—and we both know what a pistol she can be—and the other half comes from my father.”

She reaches over and pinches my nipple. It’s playful but painful. “You know that’s not what I mean, smart-ass. Margaret and Henry didn’t do this to you.”

I grab her hand to pull it away but she tightens her grip. “Oww… oww… Okay, which part of how I am are you referring to?”

She releases my nipple and I reach up to rub it. “I’m talking about the reason you choose to make arrangements with women.”

“I don’t have arrangements with women,” I clarify. “I have a normal, loving relationship with one very extraordinary woman.” I cover both of my nipples with my hands to protect them since I’m certain that isn’t the answer she’s looking for.

“But our normal, loving relationship began with a perverse arrangement,” she insists. “I want to know why.”

Damn! I really don’t want to go there, but I gave her the opening and she went for it. I should’ve known better. “Dating wasn’t for me. It hasn’t been for years.”

“Why not?”

Of course she isn’t going to accept that as an answer, and I doubt she’ll accept this one, either. “Because none of them were you.”

“As sweet as that is, it doesn’t answer why you chose your lifestyle.” Wow. She thinks I have a lifestyle. Isn’t that what you say about choices you consider to be wrong?

This is the first time I’ve ever felt like I need to defend myself to her. “I was twenty-three when I made my first million. I tripled that at twenty-four and quadrupled it by the next year. I was shoved into the limelight by the media and my wealth attracted the vultures. The women circling me were all after the same thing and it was blatantly apparent. But there was one who took it to a level so extreme, I thought I could never trust a woman again. I guess I considered her my girlfriend because she was the only woman I was having sex with.” The past is the past, but telling Laurelyn about fucking another woman doesn’t feel right. “Are you sure you want to know this?”

“Positive. I want to know everything about you and I want you to trust me enough to be comfortable telling me.”

I trust her and that’s the only reason I’m going to tell her what I’ve never told another person. “I thought I didn’t want marriage and kids because Lana was the wrong woman for me, but as time went by, I realized I never wanted to be married or have kids at all. Lana didn’t want to accept that, so she was trying to get pregnant because she thought I’d marry her.”

“How did you figure out what she was doing?”

I look up at the ceiling because I don’t like talking about this stuff with her. It’s uncomfortable as fuck. “We were using condoms and she was on the pill because I was so adamant about not wanting kids. All of a sudden, every condom we used would bust. They were fine when I put them on but they would tear after we got started.” I hate telling her this shit. “She was always the one to take it out of the package and I got suspicious, so I grabbed a few for inspection. I didn’t have to open them to see what was going on; there were tiny pinpricks through the packaging. When I found that, I knew she probably wasn’t taking her pills, either, so I went through her stuff until I found them. I was right.”

Laurelyn looks angry. “That’s messed up.”

“After Lana, I was done with dating. I threw myself into my work and I didn’t socialize publicly at all for a year until I had to travel to one of the vineyards for a few weeks. While I was there, I met a woman in a hotel restaurant while having dinner. All we did was talk and it was nice because she had no idea who I was. I liked it. I ran into her accidentally on purpose again the next night and we had another nice evening. For the first time in a year, a woman didn’t want anything from me, but I knew that would change if she ever found out who I was. That’s when I made the decision to propose the idea of being my companion for a few weeks without sharing identities. She wasn’t twenty-something with dreams about marriage and babies, so she agreed. We had a few weeks of fun and I never saw her again.”

“I don’t understand how the women didn’t know who you were.”

I can see where that might perplex her. “Being rich makes you interesting, but it doesn’t make you a celebrity like an actor or musician. It wasn’t that difficult to pull off. If they didn’t keep up with the social pages or the business section of the newspaper, then it was easy for me to fly under the radar.”

“But the media was all over you the night we went to the Opera House,” she points out.

“When I’m out, the media will photograph me, especially if I’m with a woman, but they don’t track me down when I don’t make appearances. Taking a companion out in public wouldn’t have been very smart on my part if I wanted to keep my identity hidden, so I didn’t. I haven’t been spotted in public with a woman in years for that reason. Now you understand why the photographer at the Opera House was so zealous with you.”

“Why did I get to be seen in public with you?”

I’m not sure she’ll ever understand the difference between her and the former twelve. “I knew you weren’t like the others from the moment I laid eyes on you. I chose to treat you as such.”

She crawls over and straddles me. She puts her hands on each side of my head and leans closer. Her hair falls forward and makes a veil, closing us together inside it. “I may not be like the women who came before me, but there are some things that are the same. I want a husband and babies—plural—and if you don’t, that’s a problem for me.”

I want to ask her to be my wife and the mother of my children, but now isn’t the right time. I don’t have a ring or the right words. I want my proposal to be special—something she looks back on and remembers as one of the most precious moments in her life. And it’s probably a good idea for us to be back together for more than a couple of days, but I still want to put her mind to rest about the decisions I’ve made since we last discussed them.

“You’re everything I never knew I wanted. Every time I picture my future, it’s always your face I see… with some little people who look like us.”

That sounded like a total chick thing to say but fuck it! I need her to know how much I love her and that I want her forever—not just for those three short months in Australia or for the next month we’re going to spend together. I want her for-fucking-ever.