Love negotiations, p.14
Love Negotiations, page 14
****
I’d given up on the bath after half an hour. All I’d thought about was Marco sitting behind me—his firm chest, strong thighs, hard erection. My body hummed with need. I’d taken to tossing in bed, the book a mild distraction from the warm moisture building between my legs.
I thumped the mattress.
This was ridiculous. Since when did I obsess over sex this much?
Since my husband gave me many multiple orgasms in one night.
The noise of the television traveled down the hallway from the lounge room. Now I’d have to get to sleep with a loud TV? Wait. I sat up. The voices on the video were mine and Marco’s. Oh, shit, he was watching our wedding night. My heart raced. He said he would. I didn’t expect him to watch our video this soon.
My cries of ecstasy made me jealous of myself.
I shoved a hand between my legs, not surprised to find myself damp with arousal. Was this what Marco was doing? Was he stroking his erection while watching us have sex? Did he find it as erotic as me? Three minutes of well-placed touches and I came against my fingers, but the orgasm didn’t ease my hunger for Marco.
It was my husband I wanted. I longed for his fingers on my heated flesh, his mouth over my hard nipples, his cock in my welcoming wetness.
I picked up his pillow and hugged the downy softness to my chest. Inhaling deep to catch the lingering expensive aftershave he wore, I closed my eyes, settled surrounded by his scent. Like this was what I’d needed all along. An orgasm and a hug.
And a good night’s sleep. Wasn’t that the saying? Everything appeared brighter after sleep. Because you’d been in the dark with your eyes shut and nothing but the back of your eyelids to examine. Not a pretty sight. If you’d ever rolled your eyelids back in the mirror you’d understand.
My mind was all over the place. I needed sleep. I reverted to the good old days when I couldn’t sleep and counted fluffy white sheep, getting to five thousand before the bed dipped when Marco climbed in. Pretending to be asleep, I kept my eyes shut. He wriggled his pillow from my arms then circled his arm around my waist.
An involuntary sigh slipped from my throat.
“Good girl,” Marco whispered.
That was all I needed to send me off to slumberland.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tuesday arrived and went. Wednesday arrived with a flurry of activity. The packers appeared at the apartment before I’d even left and started packing Marco’s belongings. The things money could buy. I hoped he’d locked up his private video collection. I knew he had, but I still worried since I was now on those videos.
And had yet to watch any of them.
The twins were as excited as me about the move. After lunch, the removalists arrived at our new house with Marco’s apartment belongings. We walked next door and watched them work. Occasionally they asked me where I wanted something, and I told them where I thought the furniture should go. Like Marco’s bed. I wanted that in the main bedroom. I didn’t care there was another bed already in the bedroom. I wanted his bed.
More precisely, I wanted him.
I’d take what little I could have of him since I couldn’t have all of him. Sure, I could ask him for sex again and he’d willingly give it to me, but he’d never share his heart with me.
Prue appeared home from work early and found us next door. She was as excited as me and the boys watching the movers carry furniture and boxes into the house. Even William arrived home early and supervised for a while. By the time the removalist finished, Marco still wasn’t home. I walked into the house and surveyed the many boxes filling the rooms.
“We can help you unpack,” Prue said.
“That’s all right, they’re coming back tomorrow to unpack.”
Prue laughed. “Right, Marco’s loaded.”
I frowned. I’d never really considered how wealthy Marco was. There’d been a payout clause in the prenuptial, but I hadn’t paid close attention to it since money wasn’t the reason I was here. It was Prue and the fact I didn’t want her to find out about my Peeping Tom fetish. I vowed then and there to never watch them have sex again.
Besides, watching them didn’t have the same appeal it once did since I’d experienced life-altering sex with Marco.
Think of the orgasm-wielding devil and he appears.
Marco strode through the open door, nodded at William and Prue, then planted a knee-wobbling kiss on my lips. A kiss that claimed my heart even more and left me slack-jawed staring at my new husband wishing he felt emotions for me too.
“Uncle Marco,” Whit said. “We’ve been helping.”
“I bet you have.” Marco ruffled Whit’s hair, oblivious to the love pounding in my heart.
“Me too,” Tuck said, not to be outdone.
Marco ruffled Tuck’s hair too.
“We’ll leave you two alone,” William said.
“But—” Prue said.
William shook his head.
Prue pouted then brightened. “Let’s have a housewarming party Saturday night.”
I scanned the house and all the packed boxes. “The place won’t be ready for a party by Saturday.”
“Hmm, what about a pool party at our house, then?”
“You and your pool parties,” William said, circling his arms around Prue’s growing waist and rubbing a hand over their baby.
“Um,” I mumbled.
“Yay, pool party,” the twins cheered in unison.
I laughed. “Guess we can’t say no now.”
“It’s a date.” Prue grinned. “I’ll ask Tiff, Dieter, and Dex too.”
Without warning, Prue threw me into the married couple’s circle of parties. It wasn’t like I’d gone out to single people’s parties anyway. Marco walked them out and closed the massive front door.
“Our first night in our new home. What should we do?” His voice dropped to the husky note.
My skin pebbled in goose bumps.
He stalked toward me. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t flee as I should.
“Unpack,” I said, finding my voice.
“Shame,” he said, “I hoped you’d want to watch a video with me.”
“Sure, we could watch television … oh, you mean…” My face heated. “I don’t know if I can watch myself.”
“You should.” He tugged the band holding my ponytail free from my hair. “You’re stunning, and the sexiest woman I’ve ever taped.”
I puffed out a laugh. “I doubt that, but thank you for saying it.”
“Give yourself and me more credit, Kennedy. I may be an asshole, but I’m not a liar.”
I squeezed his hand. “No, you’re not.” I plucked my hair tie from his fingers, turned, and made my way to the stairs. At the bottom step, I paused. “The tapes are in the box in the spare bedroom next to ours. I thought it’d be better to not have them downstairs in the theatre room.”
Marco chuckled. “I suppose that’s a good idea, we wouldn’t want anyone putting them on to watch.” His eyes sparkled with amusement.
My blush returned with extra heat. I couldn’t even bring myself to watch them, let alone think about someone else watching me and Marco have sex by mistake. A part of me cringed while the other part heated.
Once again, I’d go to bed while my husband watched our wedding sex tape alone. What would he do if I joined him? Would he want to have sex with me? Or was he still waiting for me to ask him? Because each day that passed by without him touching me, my restraint was wavering. No doubt he knew it too and was waiting me out.
I sighed. He’d get what he wanted, but I’d drag it out as long as possible. If only to protect my heart a little longer.
****
The next day at work—not that I’d call being a nanny to the twins work, I loved them too much—my phone buzzed with a call.
“Mrs. Lawrence?”
“Yes.”
That was strange to hear. To think. I married Marco.
“This is Fifi. Mr. Lawrence hired me to unpack your belongings, I can’t get ahold of him, and he gave me your number so…”
“What is it?”
Had she found the videos? Or my box of sex toys?
“My dad had a heart attack.” She sniffed. “I need to leave.”
“Of course, go,” I said. “Don’t worry about our stuff.”
“Thank you so much, and I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing and get to the hospital.”
We hung up at the same time.
“Boys, do you want to go next door to mine and Uncle Marco’s new house?”
“Can we take our toys?” Tuck asked.
“Sure can. How about we pack a bag of toys and we go play in the new house for a bit?”
They loved the idea and piled their toy cars into a bag. We walked next door; it was handy living close to Prue. This was more perfect than if I’d chosen a house for me. Marco had done everything he could to make this transition good for me too. Maybe I should stop driving him away? I surveyed the bottom floor with half the boxes unpacked.
“Okay, let’s play in the dining room.” I dragged the chairs out from the table, ran upstairs, and trotted back with a blanket. “Who wants to hide in a blanket fort?”
“Me!” they yelled.
The boys disappeared under the blanket with their toys and played in their happy, easy way of keeping each other amused while I unpacked the boxes. The boys thought the day was one big adventure after another as we shuffled from room to room downstairs. I took them back home at five o’clock, a second before Gabe drove Prue home. The twins told her about their day and guilt swirled in my stomach I hadn’t asked Prue first before taking them to my house.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” Prue said, swinging hands with the twins. “I hope your home will always be open to them.”
“It will.” I loved those kids way too much. “We could turn one of the upstairs bedrooms into a room for them and they can come for sleepovers?”
“I love the idea! You’re the best, Kennedy.”
A smile sprung to my lips without thought. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
Prue shook her head. “It’s still strange you not living with us.”
“It is.” I walked back down the driveway waving at the boys.
They waved back then raced into their house. Life sure had changed in a short time. I walked back home. To mine and Marco’s mansion. Already the house was feeling like home. I bound up the stairs to our bedroom. Time to unpack our clothes. I fiddled with the speaker system and put on the latest pop hits, dancing to the music as I placed my meager clothes in the expanse of the wardrobe then progressed onto Marco’s shirts and suits.
“You look happy,” Marco said from behind me.
I screamed and dropped the hanger in my hand.
He chuckled, bent to pick up the shirt at the same time as me, our hands grabbed the shirt together, and a small game of tug-of-war started as I tugged but he wouldn’t let go.
“Let me take it,” I said.
“If you wanted my shirt all you had to do was ask.” His voice dipped into that husky tone that made my entire body stir to life.
As if his words forced me to look at him, my gaze roamed his shirt, my brain sent images of me ripping the buttons open and plastering my mouth on his firm chest. I licked my lips as my fingers became slack. Marco tossed the shirt on the hanger to the side and crushed me to him, taking my lips in a scorching kiss. Holy cow. I whimpered. Marco deepened the kiss, shoving me back onto the floor and pinning me beneath his hard, insistent body. I rocked my hips against his growing erection and on my aching core. He ground into me once, twice, then stopped.
His lips shifted to my neck and he whispered, “Ask me.”
I froze. What was I doing? We’d never be more than this. An intense attraction might exist between us, but he would never involve his heart. I couldn’t have sex with him again and not tell him I loved him.
“I can’t,” I whispered back.
He rose with a sigh and offered me his hand. I placed my palm in his and let him lift me to my feet.
“This wasn’t how I imagined things between us,” he said.
“Me either,” I said, a breathy exhale leaving my mouth.
I hadn’t imagined falling for Marco. Loving him. Experiencing this blinding heat whenever we were in the same room together. I blamed falling in love with him on the multiple orgasms he gave me on our wedding night. But even without those, I’d still feel this way.
He tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear that’d fallen out of my ponytail in our heated embrace. A shiver rippled down my spine from his innocent touch alone.
“We could be good together if you’d let us.”
I smooshed my lips together to stop myself from saying yes. Because we would be amazing together as a real married couple. I saw that. I couldn’t have picked a better husband for myself. The problem was, he didn’t want to be a proper husband with actual feelings.
Marco left me in the wardrobe and walked into the bathroom. Seconds later the shower turned on. My mind pictured him naked and wet. Waiting for me to join him. Was he taking himself in hand and picturing me too?
I was jealous of his hand. It should be my hand giving him pleasure. It should be his wife.
Me.
He should love me too.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I didn’t even see Marco on Thursday. He sent me a text message late in the afternoon saying he’d be working late at the office. Whether he was avoiding me or working was the question that kept rolling through my mind. I’d tossed and turned half the night, and in the end, fallen asleep at one in the morning. When I’d woke, his side of the bed was still empty. Cold. Like he hadn’t even come home at all.
Jealous thoughts were a curse. Was he in another woman’s bed? Even though he’d said he’d never cheat, how long could he go without sex?
Friday passed in a blur, a good thing I found the kids easy to spend time with and required little brainpower. Prue mentioned I seemed tired but laughed it off as though Marco was keeping me awake for sex. I wish he was. My body and heart hungered for his.
I walked home, showered, and put on a robe since Marco said we were going out for dinner and he’d buy me a dress, but he wasn’t home yet and there was only one hour until we needed to leave. I dried my hair and left it down then applied a soft style of makeup since Marco wanted a sweet girl-next-door-looking wife to parade in front of his work partners.
“Kennedy?” Marco called out.
“Up here,” I yelled back.
His footsteps raced up the stairs.
“Sorry I’m late. Here.” He thrust a garment bag at me and a shoebox. “Put these on and let’s go.” He tugged his tie free and unbuttoned his shirt.
I gasped the second the shirt opened and gave me a view of his chest. Marco paused, his gaze finally registering the robe. He stepped closer, tugged the tie free, and slid his hands on my waist.
“Be a good girl and get dressed.” His thumbs stroked along the top of my panties. “I never would have thought I’d like this style of underwear.” He tucked one thumb under the waistband.
My heart raced and my pulse pounded to where he touched me and lower still where I wanted him to touch me.
“Boy-leg,” I whispered. Asking him for sex was on the tip of my tongue.
His thumb dipped lower, and he dropped a chaste kiss to my cheek. “I’ll reward you later if you’re a good girl tonight.”
I sucked in a shuddering breath. He stepped back. My body screamed for more of his touch. With a shaking hand, I unzipped the garment bag. Inside was a demure cocktail dress in champagne lace. I dropped the robe in a hurry, eager to put on the gorgeous gown. I shimmied the dress up my legs, tucked my arms into the sleeves, and reached for the zipper, but Marco’s fingers were already there zipping me up. He placed a kiss on the side of my neck. Goose bumps prickled my skin, but he stepped away. I opened the shoebox and gasped. The heels were even better than the dress and matched. I slid them onto my feet and admired the outfit in the mirror.
“Gorgeous,” Marco said.
“Thank you for all this.” I met his gaze in the mirror.
“No problem.” He shrugged his massive shoulders, now dressed in a black dinner suit and wearing a champagne-colored tie matching my dress. “Let’s go, we’re going to be late and it’s my party.”
We walked down the stairs, my heels clicking a tune on the marble.
“And they’ll cry if you’re late?”
“Ha! You don’t know lawyers, we never cry.”
I snorted. “I’m beginning to understand them a bit.”
“Like what?” He opened the front door.
I swept outside. “You’re ruthless.”
“And?”
He held the passenger door to the Camaro.
“Unscrupulous.”
“True.” He shut the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Anything else?”
“You have an eye for detail.” I pointed at his tie and then my dress.
“It’s the finer points that matter.”
He sped down the road. I grabbed hold of the edges of the car seat.
“Everything has to be fast.”
“Not true.” He threw a heated glance over my body.
My nipples pebbled into awareness. He was right, he didn’t do everything fast. He’d played with me slow and screwed me slow. My insides clenched at the reminder. How would he reward me tonight? Sex? Because I desperately needed it.
We arrived at the Beverly Intercontinental, the impressive building that was soon becoming my favorite place to eat. As Marco predicted, we were late and his partners and their spouses greeted us with enthusiasm. I settled into the chair next to Marco slipping with ease into the role of his adoring new wife. I required no acting when I loved him and everything he did for me. Marco played his part too, paying me attention all night, making sure I’d enough to eat and drink, and I liked what they put in front of me. He also toyed with the ends of my hair while speaking with the others. He’d almost convinced me our marriage was real. Almost convinced me he returned my feelings. I wanted to believe it so much. To imagine our love was shared.
