by Ellen, Tracy
The only other expected person absent was James Byrd, but that was a relief considering the whole crazy-expensive limo thing. Jazy reported James sent his apologies, but that something urgent had come up. The day was hectic, so she and I never talked about James, and I was glad. Honestly, I really don’t care why James Byrd was interested in me. All day, Blanca stuck close to Jazy, and I was thrilled they’d obviously bonded. Blanca loved horses and already hero-worshiped my sister. They spent an hour in the store picking out books. Blanca was young and resilient. I was sure she’s scared over her future and for her friends, but she was also having a fun time.
Tre J and Crookie traded shy, but interested glances all afternoon. Not exactly the clashing of the titans, but I still look forward to seeing their giant offspring. I was thinking Cleopatra Cassandra Crookston rolled around in the mouth very nicely. Perhaps her nickname could be Tre C.
Layla wouldn’t look at Jack Banner, yet always sat by him. I decided to leave well enough alone and never mentioned she should think about jumping his bones. Jack kept giving Layla squinting looks and shifting uncomfortably at her nearness. Could be I am wrong about Jack, and maybe screwing Cheryl Crookston didn’t mean he’d lost all sense of propriety. Layla was my cousin and twenty-five years his junior. I’ll introduce her to some other men this weekend and cheer her right up.
Celeste and Misty spent some of their time ogling the handsome Diego while Mac frowned their way. The rest of their time the girls spent more productively sitting on either side of the ecstatic Trent. He kept them laughing all day. They left with him about eleven tonight and haven’t returned. Layla reminded them the limo was leaving at seven in the morning sharp for shopping, with or without them. Misty reminded Layla she’s never missed a day of shopping in her life and would hardly start by missing a day at the Mall of America.
Celeste agreed with a smiling, “Yeah, fuck that noise, Layla!”
I’d definitely be introducing Layla to some more single men, as soon as possible.
Mr. Barkley was the only person who remarked upon the un-cousin Candy’s absence from our convivial party. Anna and I carefully did not glance at each other when I shrugged my dismissive answer of, “She had other plans.”
Mr. Barkley got on particularly well with Luke and his father. Trading a long look with Luke across the room, I overheard words like fractional share, forex, spot trading, and American options being bandied about amongst all the men. My banker didn’t mind the noise and confusion too much, after all.
If you’ve ever been a hostess for a large group, you know what I mean by saying you never get to spend too much time with any one person due to always having to do this, that, or the other. I did talk with Damaris and Paul as often as possible. They were as great as I hoped from our first meeting. Mama D’s joining the girls in the limo tomorrow for shopping. Her decision was still not enough to tempt me to reconsider. I fear I’ll never be a joiner. We made a lunch date for Saturday. She suggested a restaurant in Northfield. I counter-suggested we eat at Luke’s farm, in the kitchen, in the inside of his house. Luke’s mother looked at me strangely, but agreed. Damaris’ idea for Blanca was for us all to consider a school farther away in Chicago. Blanca could stay with the Drake’s. This idea had potential, especially with Damaris being an attorney. I was awaiting further developments before bringing this suggestion up to Maria.
Setting my zombie book aside, my mind went to our Thanksgiving dinner. Could there be a better feeling than sitting around a beautifully appointed table over a delicious meal with almost all the people you loved most in the world surrounding you?
Well, aside from that feeling, of course.
Relaxing now against my bed pillows, I debated getting up to get another piece of pumpkin pie with whipped cream a foot high. Then I laughed out loud again when thinking about the real highlight of Thanksgiving dinner.
Anna and Reg had been eagerly waiting to make a toast to announce their surprise wedding. Unbeknownst to them, Stella and Eric George were waiting to make a toast and announce their surprise pregnancy. Once our noisy bunch was seated for dinner and the champagne was poured, both couples stood up at once. The four of them stood staring at each other in blinking surprise.
It was a comedy of errors from that point forward. Anna and Stella kept insisting the other couple should go first. Then both of the couples would begin their toasts at the same time.
Reg and Eric George shared a shrug of bewilderment when, after the third time this proceeded to happen, Anna got fed up.
She glared across the table at Stella. “Fine! I am not saying another word until you do whatever it is you’re doing!”
“Fine!” Stella shot back. She turned and forcefully clinked her water-filled flute against Eric George’s and spat, “I’m having a baby, and we are getting married New Year’s Eve here at Bel’s Books in the Garden Room.”
At everyone’s surprised gasps, Anna chimed her water-filled flute loudly against Reggie’s and shouted, “No! I’m having a baby, and WE are getting married New Year’s Eve in Las Vegas!”
Groaning in my shocked surprise, I didn’t clink my champagne-filled flute with anybody, but tossed the contents back in a move that would make the Zlenko women proud. Luke squeezed my upper thigh while grinning broadly at the ensuing uproar. He likes my dinner parties.
Comforted by his presence after receiving these latest blows, I leaned and whispered in his ear, “I’m never having your baby, and don’t forget WE are having our day-by-day commitment ceremony tonight at midnight.”
His gorgeous eyes were glinting when he murmured back against my hair, “I brought a sharp, large knife.”
I shuddered, and if this move caused my thighs to spread apart under the table and my short Thanksgiving skirt to rise up to better accommodate the size of my boyfriend’s warm hand, I can hardly be blamed.
Anna assured me later that she only suspected about the baby earlier in the day when she woke up and immediately vomited. Reggie preened like a peacock all night. Once I get over feeling sorry for myself, but not for Anna, I think I’ll be ecstatically happy for them. I do know with all this human chorionic gonadotropin floating around, I have some deals to cut if I want to get in on the name-picking action.
Stella assured me later that they only decided to get married on the drive over to my apartment this very day. Eric George looked happy, frightened, and young. I don’t know if I was going to be ecstatically happy for them when I got over my pity party.
For this one evening, I point-blanked refused to allow the very stubborn and very hormonal bride-to-be’s to discuss the dilemma facing us all resulting from their dual announcements of weddings in separate states on the same day. I assured them both that somehow we will work it out and enough said for today. They each reluctantly agreed, but only after I shocked them into silence with the Viggo V to stop their bickering. This earned me another upper thigh squeeze from Luke, which turned out to be even higher praise this time.
Not silenced for long, Anna and Stella bounced back. Happily, they told anyone they cornered throughout the evening every detail planned for their prospective wedding days. Anna, not succeeding in smothering her smug grin of organizational superiority, passed out Las Vegas information in teal blue plastic folders while Stella glared. My niece murmured about landfills and made incantations about snow storms. Mac and I met worried eyes.
But I shrugged it off because it was Thanksgiving and the eve of my own secret commitment ceremony. This happy, anti-bride was going to be selfish for one night and not deal with any problems except obsessing over the big, sharp knife Luke had brought.
My bedroom door creaked loudly when it’s opened slowly. I sat up straight and felt the excitement racing through my veins.
Luke came in and closed the door behind him. His eyes took me in on the bed. Raising his eyes from dwelling on the white nightgown that was simple but very sheer, he said, “It’s done and your money’s in my jacket pocket.”
He look
ed tired. I realized how little he’d slept over the last few nights.
Without saying anything, I flipped back the covers and held open my arms. He slung off his black leather jacket into the chair near the door. He took his clothes off swiftly while I couldn’t take my eyes off the view. He smiled seeing my rapt gaze, as the shirt, jeans, briefs, and socks landed near his jacket. Wearing only the taped white bandage around his ribs, Luke came into my arms. We held each other close.
He buried his head in my hair while I whispered, “Thank you.”
I stroked his back lightly with my nails and he held me closer. I didn’t ask for details of what he’d done. Last night, I had tactically agreed that I hoped the pedophile enforcer permanently disappeared. After what Stella told me this morning, I believed even more this was the best solution, but the less I knew the better. If Luke wanted to tell me what they had done, I’d listen. He remained silent.
After a few moments, Luke kissed my neck and leaned back to smile at me.
His hand touched my nightgown and his dimple flashed, “I like this. You look like my pretty, virgin sacrifice.”
“I love you!” I blurted. I cupped Luke’s face and whispered, “I love you, I love you, I love you!”
Luke came over me and I fell back against my pillows with a squeak of the bedsprings. He clasped our hands together and held them on either side of my head.
His eyes were sparkling, but his voice was intense. “Tell me again.”
I laughed and lifted up to kissed his dimple, and then unable to resist, his mouth.
Falling back against the pillows, I whispered, “I love you so much, Luke, I can hardly stand myself.”
“I can stand you, Anabel, and that’s all that matters,” he responded softly.
The quiet in the room was absolute as we stared into each other’s faces. I felt him hard between my thighs through the thin material of my nightgown that was no barrier against his blazing heat.
After a few moments, I demanded, “Well?”
Luke grinned and sat up. “Your right, it’s time for our commitment ceremony.” He stood up, and the sight of his jutting erection and bronzed muscles made me moan.
I swallowed. “Have I told you that I love you lately?”
Luke grinned at me over his broad shoulder while he walked over to his jacket. He reached into the pocket. Turning to face me, a snapping noise brought my eyes up from below his waist.
This time I gulped. A large switchblade knife with a sharp, deadly-looking blade was staring back at me.
“It’s time for that borderline pain and sick stuff I promised you as my girlfriend.”
Luke walked towards me and stood at the side of the bed.
Brandishing the knife, my boyfriend ordered softly, “Take off the pretty nightgown, Anabel.”
After a moment of hesitation while I couldn’t take my wide eyes off the steel blade a foot away from my face, I gingerly got up on my knees. I obeyed, pulling the nightgown slowly over my head. Tossing it aside, I held my chin up as Luke’s hot eyes traveled over my body.
He stepped closer and when he raised the knife, I tightly shut my eyes. A microsecond later, I peeked at hearing Luke’s chuckle while he cut through the taped bandage encircling his chest and ribs.
“What are you doing?” I asked, as my hands fell to my side.
“I’m doing my part of our day-by-day commitment ceremony,” Luke answered mysteriously while he finished cutting. Setting the knife aside on the bedside table, he peeled the bandage off slowly.
“Anabel?”
His voice drew my eyes up from his hands at his chest. “Yes?”
When I was focused on his face, Luke’s smile started slow and it continued to grow until it was a broad, white grin against his dark face. “This control freak doesn’t have the words to tell you how much he loves you.”
At my happy gasp, he dropped the tape and bandage to the floor. My gasp turned into a startled exclamation, and I covered my mouth with my hands.
“But hopefully, I don’t need the words.”
Luke was right. Our commitment ceremony did contain borderline pain and was sick. I was staring at a new tattoo on Luke’s chest, above his heart. It was a stylized letter A in blue and surrounded by a scrolling design in bold, black ink that was beautiful, but completely masculine. It wasn’t too small or too large. It was the perfect surprise tattoo.
“I love it!” I breathed in awe, leaning close to examine the design. “When did you do this?”
“Yesterday, after I left your office at three.” He grinned. “I planned to show you tonight.”
Understanding dawned, and it became clear how much longer Luke has been aware of his feelings for me. Then in a move that only proved I was so much more of a girly-girl than I’d ever hoped, I burst into tears.
Laughing as he gathered me into his arms, Luke stroked my back while I cried my happiness against his neck.
He chided in a teasing voice, “Hey, you told me to expect drooling, but not a flood!”
Overwhelmed by emotion, I smacked my tormentor’s shoulder while I continued to cry, and he continued to soothe me and laugh softly like a devil.
He turned my face to his and kissed me passionately, effectively ending my first crying jag of my adult life. Draped across his lap, I was wrapped tight in Luke’s warm arms as he kissed the tears off my face. He also kissed the tears he insisted were dripping onto my chest.
Stroking his short black hair, I hiccupped, “Do I get to open my gift now?”
Luke looked up from licking my tears and grinned. “Oh yeah, it’s time.”
Leaning forward, he picked up the black bag from the bedside table and placed it in my hands. He claimed he was rearranging us more comfortably on the bed when he ended up leaning back against all the pillows and I was straddling his lap, sitting up straight and facing him.
Shivering from his large hands roaming freely across my nude body, I shook the gift bag a final, savoring time and untied the bow.
Looking across at Luke with a smile, he arched a brow and gave me a nod. I pulled out a business card. It had the words High Noon in a three dimensional font across the front. There was a western-style star brand in the center between the two words.
Frowning at the elusive familiarity of those words, I flipped the card. On the back was written: Friday 11/23/12 @ 8 a.m.
I smiled quizzically at Luke. “What’s this?”
Luke put an arm behind his head. Never looking sexier, my Dark Prince was lounging against my silk pillows and his muscles were rippling. The exposed tuft of hair under his raised arm was silky black, like the thin trail down the middle of his chest. My eyes were drawn to the tattoo and I was melting inside. I don’t stop it this time.
He smiled back. “It’s your appointment tomorrow morning.”
I tilted my head and asked in amused confusion, “Appointment for what?”
Luke didn’t answer, but nodded his head towards the gift bag I’d left on his stomach. “There’s more.”
Giving him a narrow-eyed look that only made his smile grow into a grin; I reached in and rooted around the tissue paper. I felt another slip of heavier paper and that was it. Pulling it out of the bag, the paper was folded but I saw there was an image printed on the inside.
As I unfolded the paper, Luke said, “The appointment is for getting my name tattooed on your ass tomorrow at the High Noon tattoo shop and then you can get busy shopping for those.”
In my hands was a picture of two claw foot tubs.
Epilogue
“Dirty Dancing” Time Of My Life (Final Dance)
Friday, 11/23/12
1:30 AM
I have been thoroughly worshipped for the last hour. Luke has exhausted me with his love that mere words cannot describe. Luckily, his hands, mouth, and cock had no problems showing me how he felt. I have been kissed, licked, stroked, caressed, rubbed, sucked, and fucked over every square inch of my body, and all of the round ones, too.
The
bedside lamp was still on. Facing my boyfriend while lying on my side, I have a hand tucked under my pillow. His position mirrored mine.
Six inches apart, we smiled at each other.
“Princess?”
“Yes, my Devil?”
“It’s your turn. Let me know when you’ve thought of your fantasy and when…”
Grinning with happiness that he’s finally ended my two-day torture, I sat up quickly. Clapping my hands in glee, I interrupted with a deep laugh, “Oh, believe me, I know my second top fantasy!”
Luke smiled and arched a brow. “Okay then. Do you want to tell me or…”
“Oh yes please, I’ll tell you right now!” I snuggled up next to him and whispered my fantasy in his ear.
Leaning back, I looked at his face. He studied me in return with fascination. “So, this is your first and second top fantasy?”
I nodded slowly and asked, “Aren’t there many ways to dominate a cat?”
Luke’s hooded eyes were glittering when he murmured, “I’ve heard something like that.”
Flipping my hair back behind my shoulder, I smiled. “I see that look in your eyes, Torquemada. Why do I have a sneaking suspicion My Turn is going to become Our Turn?”
Luke slowly smoothed his hands down my sides and gripped my hips, pulling me against him. “Anabel, Anabel,” I groaned softly when his voice lowered huskily near my ear, “don’t be surprised if you haven’t heard from me for a few days when suddenly,” his hands caressed lower, “you feel a man’s hands on you. First, you’re blindfolded and then a voice says…”
###
Thank you for reading Courted by Karma. I hope you had a few hours of fun in the world of Anabel Axelrod and Luke Drake! If you’re enjoying this series, please help me spread the word of my self-published books by posting a brief review on amazon.com or goodreads.com. I read all my reviews and want you to know that your patronage is tremendously, enormously appreciated!
Happy Reading,