by Gina Lamm
Shut up! she screamed at herself when Mike’s hands wandered to her breasts again.
That did it. Pleasure overrode the worries, and a rush of heat flooded her limbs.
Her nightgown pulled off much easier than it had gone on—probably because she let Mike do it.
After several minutes of moaning, touching, and kissing, they collapsed on the bed. Mike pulled her body over his. Something inside her had unlocked his confession. She wanted him even more than she had earlier that night. He loved her. She loved him. And she wanted to give him every little piece of her to prove that.
“I want to enter you this way,” he groaned, palming her breasts. “I want to watch you.”
“You’re the earl,” she said with a deliciously wicked smile. She rubbed her wet heat against his shaft, reveling in the growly moans that ripped from his chest. She was so wet, so ready for him, that she decided not to delay either of them pleasure any longer.
She rose up slightly, reaching between their bodies to palm his hardness. A gasp wrenched from him at the touch of her hand on his length.
“Like that?” she asked, rubbing the slick head against her.
“Oh, yes,” he hissed, hips twisting beneath her.
“Want more?” She gripped him harder, rubbing the tip against the tingling nub of flesh at the apex of her thighs.
“Yes.” He grabbed her hips, positioning the opening of her body against his erection.
“Okay,” she said, impaling herself on his length.
Both of them gasped then, the intense feeling of the depth surprising them both. He was even deeper inside her now than he’d been before.
Bracing her hands on his chest, her hair fell forward as she began a slow, steady rhythm atop him. He was so hot, so hard inside her. She swiveled her hips a little, heightening the sensations.
“Yes.” Mike’s stare was intense as he looked into her eyes. “Don’t stop.”
Jamie sat up, cupping her breasts as she quickened the pace of her movements. Watching his face for clues, she pinched and rolled her nipples. He seems to like that, she mused as his hips bucked hard beneath her, wrenching a moan from her lips. Honestly, I like that too.
Faster she rode him, harder, her breasts bouncing when she released them to grip the strong thighs at her back. He reached upward to grip them, squeezing so softly, then harder when she cried out for more.
“Ah, Mike,” she cried, the rhythm driving her hard. “Touch me, please.”
She didn’t have to explain further, bless his heart. He let his hand rub from her breast down to the wet nub that screamed out for him.
His thumb caressed it, soft at first, then harder as she panted out, “More!”
The pleasure racked higher within her, her belly burning with lustful heat. He filled her so deep. He was so thick, so hard, and hot with lust for her. She clamped her hips harder around him, pumping fast, straining for that peak.
“I’m going to come,” she cried when the pleasure reached its zenith. “Oh God, Mike!”
Jamie couldn’t stop the scream that wrenched from her when he pressed hard against her clit. That was it for her. She crested the wave of pleasure, her movements frantic against him, body shuddering inside and out. What have you done to me, my lord?
She collapsed on his chest, her breathing ragged.
“Jamie,” Mike rasped against her ear, hips still pumping slowly against her, “I cannot wait much longer.”
He was right. He was growing harder within her, body rigid as he tried to control his thrusts. She tried to lift her head, but pleasure had wrung every last ounce of strength from her body.
“Don’t wait,” she whispered against his neck.
“Are you sure?” His voice was almost frantic as he struggled with his desire.
“Yes.” She pressed a kiss to his shoulder.
His hands grasped her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh there. She held onto his shoulders, her body still thrumming with the last vestiges of her orgasm.
Three thrusts, four, and his own orgasm overcame him. She nearly came again at the erotic feeling. His movements slowed, his legs stretching out beneath her as he finished.
“I love you, Jamie,” he whispered, pressing gentle kisses on her mouth.
“I love you too, Mike.” She smiled, happier than she’d ever been before.
He rolled them to their sides, still cradling her close. She snuggled against his strong chest as he pulled the covers over them, happy to be there with the man she loved.
***
Jamie woke hours later when the fireplace was nothing but embers and weak rays of dawn were reaching through the windows. Mike’s arms were still wrapped around her, and her inner legs were sticky from their lovemaking.
Her brain finally opened the channel of communication she’d shut down last night.
Oh yes, Jamie. Glad you finally joined us. The rest of your brain was just thinking WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE? You’ve had unprotected sex with a guy that LIVES TWO HUNDRED YEARS IN THE PAST! For this particular gem in your otherwise stellar record, you receive an impossible decision, a broken heart, and a pregnancy scare. Excellent work, moron!
Oh shit. Her brain was right. That had been an incredibly huge mistake.
Mike blew out a sigh behind her, his breath tickling the curls at her cheek.
Wrapped there in his arms, she couldn’t regret it. She wouldn’t. She’d never felt as connected to anyone as she had to Mike last night, and as she moved closer to him, she tried to cover her worries with that feeling.
So, what are you going to do? Give up your house, your shower, your friends, your entire life to be a countess in a society that will probably shun you?
For Mike, she thought as she turned over to stare into his now-open eyes, I think I might.
He smiled at her sleepily. “Good morning, dearling.”
“Morning.” She snuggled into his chest, loving the way his arms pulled her closer. “I like it when you call me dearling.”
He laughed softly. “I hope to call you that for quite a while.”
She gave a tight-lipped smile. “Me too.”
He squeezed her for a moment, then released her when she pulled away to sit up. She shoved a long hank of hair back over her shoulder.
“You did not answer me last night.” He propped up on one elbow, looking at her.
“Answer what?” She turned to him, picking at tangles in her hair.
“When I asked you to wed me. You did not give me an answer.”
“Oh.” Jamie looked at him. Decision time. She had to say something; the worried set to his forehead told her that much. If she stayed, then both society and Collette Dubois would be out to get her in a very real way. If she left, then paralyzing heartbreak was almost certain. A flash of thought cut through her confusion.
“Okay. Why don’t we say this: Yes. Conditionally.”
He pursed his lips, eyebrows lowered. “Meaning?”
“One, I need to see if I can fit in here. I mean, besides you and me. If I’m going to be living here for the rest of my life, I need to see if I can find things to make me happy other than you. If you are the only thing that makes me happy here, then that’s putting unfair pressure on you, and I don’t want to do that.” She held up a second finger.
“Two, I don’t want to run to a Vegas-style wedding chapel to do this. I want to be engaged for a while, to make sure we can live together happily. I’m pretty sure divorce in this time is way harder than it is in 2012, and I don’t want either of us to have to go through that because we rushed things.” She reached out and took both his hands in hers, reassured at the way his touch grounded her.
“Three, I love you, Micah Alexander Axelby. It has nothing to do with the fact that you’re an earl or that you’ve got buckets of money or anything like that. I love you, the man. I want the same from you—respect, mutual admiration, and partnership. That’s what marriage means to me, and if you’re in it for any other reasons, it’s a
no. Think you can agree to all that?”
His expression had changed from consternation, to distaste, to calm in the space of one minute. After a long while, he nodded.
“I agree to your terms, Miss Marten.”
She smiled. “Good.” She brushed a quick kiss across his lips. “Now, I’d better get back to my room before the whole house knows I didn’t sleep there last night. See you at breakfast?”
He nodded, pulling her close for another kiss, this one lingering, soft, and sensual.
“Mmm,” she said as she pulled back. “We’d better stop that, or I won’t make it back to my room.”
He winked at her as she hopped from the bed to put her clothes back on. “I intend to spend much more time doing that in the near future.”
She knotted the robe at her waist. “Be my guest, your lordship.” She bobbed him a mock curtsy and left the room, almost skipping with the lightness of her gleeful heart.
Her levity ground to a quick halt when she got to her bedroom and saw Muriel and Mrs. K conferring in whispers at the foot of her still-neatly-made bed. Jamie stopped dead when they locked eyes with her.
Oh, crap.
“Morning, ladies!” Jamie chirped, doing her best to appear bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and completely chaste. “Thought I would get up early today. How are you guys?”
Muriel hid a giggle behind her thin hands. Mrs. Knightsbridge raised her brows. “If you were sleeping here last night, then why did Muriel fetch me when you were not in your bed at two of the clock when Baron roused her to allow him entrance to your room? And why did we hear, ahem, some telling sounds from his lordship’s bedchamber?”
Jamie’s ears, cheeks, and neck burned bright red. She’d been discovered.
“Well, it’s your fault.” Jamie pointed at Mrs. K. “You’re the one that talked Thornton into lying for you about that damn pink punch. You intentionally got me drunk!”
Muriel squeaked, looking rapidly from the housekeeper to Jamie and back again.
“I did nothing of the sort.” Mrs. Knightsbridge fidgeted with her apron as she replied, avoiding Jamie’s accusing stare by looking at the floor.
“You did too. You’re lying, and not very well at that.”
“Well, I did tell you I would do whatever I deemed necessary.”
Check and mate. “Fine.” Jamie stalked into the room, pushing the door shut behind her. “You won. Congrats. Can I have a bath now?”
Mrs. K smiled victoriously. “I think, under the circumstances, that can be arranged. Muriel, please go inform the footmen. I will assist Miss Marten.”
Muriel’s face fell as she realized she wasn’t going to be in on the hot new gossip. She bobbed a disappointed curtsy and left the room. Jamie guessed this was the most excitement the poor girl ever really got. A real live scandal in her own house? How much more thrilling could it get for a teenaged maid? Jamie made up her mind to make it up to Muriel later.
“Now,” Mrs. Knightsbridge said, smiling a knowing smile, “I trust you were successful in your efforts?”
Jamie shook her head vehemently. “I wasn’t successful because I didn’t set out to do anything. I had a few too many, and Mike escorted me up here, and after I changed, well, stuff happened.” It was honestly worse than having to confess to her sixth grade teacher that she’d started her period for the first time. The awkward knot of embarrassment swelled in her throat.
Mrs. K’s smile turned into a full-out grin.
“There. See? Are you not glad that I did not open the portal and send you back yesterday?”
Twenty-Two
“You.”
Mrs. Knightsbridge’s face went paler than a fish belly. Jamie crossed the room toward her, finger pointed accusingly.
“It was you the whole time, wasn’t it? There is no sister at all!” Jamie stopped just in front of the housekeeper, pointer finger shaking as she vented her frustration.
Mrs. K looked down, red leeching into her blanched cheeks. “Yes. It was me.”
“All those times you told me Wilhelmina was in hiding for her safety, that she wouldn’t send me back, that was really just a cover so you could keep me here to do what you wanted. And what kills me is, it worked.” Jamie threw up her hands as she walked to the window. “Now, I’m in love with the guy, I’ve done the deed with him, and I’ve agreed to marry him, and it’s all because you tricked me into having to stay here!”
Mrs. K’s delighted cry whirled Jamie around. The housekeeper clapped her hands and beamed. “Oh, Miss Jamie, how wonderful! I’ll see to it that his lordship procures a special license so you may be wed immediately. I believe St. George’s should do for the ceremony…”
“Wait just one minute, Wilhelmina.” Mrs. K winced at her emphatic use of her given name but didn’t lose the triumphant look while Jamie continued. “I am not going to run out and marry him tomorrow. We’ve agreed on some conditions. A long engagement, for starters. And I’ve got to make sure I can be happy here even without Mike. I don’t know much about proper society, but since this is all your fault, you’re going to help me learn, got it?”
The beam toned down to a bright smile. “But, Miss Jamie, that’s what we’ve been doing all along. I shall be happy to continue showing you the ways of polite society.”
Jamie sighed and dropped down on the bed. “Okay. But you need to promise me something right here, right now.”
Her face was dead serious as she pegged Mrs. K with a dark stare. “No more lies. No more manipulation. I want to know that I can trust you. If I ask you to open that portal again, you won’t deny me, no matter what. Understood?”
The housekeeper nodded solemnly. “I do apologize for my duplicity. It was not meant to cause you pain, I promise you that. It was a necessary precaution, one that I regret has caused you harm.”
Jamie nodded slowly. “I understand.”
A knock sounded on the door at that moment. Mrs. K crossed the room to open it.
Two footmen, one of them George, struggled in with the copper tub. It was filled with steaming buckets of water within another ten minutes. It seemed some witch may have foreseen the need for the water to be heating much earlier than she’d let on.
Mrs. K smiled. “I shall send Muriel to you in a few moments. In the meantime, please relax. I know you have some things to ponder.”
That was an understatement. Jamie thanked the housekeeper for the bath and watched as the diminutive woman left the room.
The hot water soothed muscles that were sore from her night’s exercises. Jamie reclined into the warm curve of copper against her back, watching the fire dancing in the grate. Was Mike thinking about the same things she was at that moment? Was he wondering how they could ever pull that off? Was he remembering the way their bodies had fit together so well last night?
“Stop that,” Jamie hissed to her stomach as a curl of warmth grew there. She wasn’t normally ruled by her libido, and she didn’t intend to start.
She grabbed the soap Mrs. K had set alongside the tub and got to scrubbing. As the water cooled, her trepidation grew. How could she possibly marry a man from two hundred years in the past? How could she survive in a time where women were regarded as vessels for men’s pleasure and the propagation of the species? How could she honestly hope to make Mike happy when she couldn’t even manage to remember all of the stupid rules that guided this society? She’d embarrass him. He’d start to hate her—exactly like Logan had when he’d claimed she wasn’t the woman he’d fallen for. She tried to wash all the uncertainty, worry, and fear away, but it would take something much stronger than the lavender-scented suds to do that. She dipped beneath the surface of the water and massaged her scalp with the soap.
C’mon, Jamie, she said to herself. Where’s the good feeling? Where’s the everything-is-right-with-the-world calm that goes along with getting clean?
Her toes went pruny and her fingers were raisins before she realized it wasn’t coming.
***
Muriel was full o
f chatter when she came in to help Jamie rinse her hair and dress. The one-word answers and lack of ebullience didn’t deter Muriel either. She kept up a long stream of talk as she brushed out Jamie’s hair, laced up her stays, and selected a gown for her to wear.
“After all,” Muriel said as she pulled her last set of petticoats on over Jamie’s head, “it is not every day that an earl weds a lady with no connections or family.”
“Muriel, we kind of want to keep it secret right now, okay?” Jamie felt bad asking. Muriel was clearly swept away by the romantic idea, and she didn’t want to hurt the girl’s feelings, but honestly, the situation wasn’t feeling that wonderful to Jamie yet. There were still way too many variables for her to be as ecstatic as Muriel was.
“Oh,” Muriel said. Her face fell as she brought the pale pink gown to Jamie. “I am sorry, miss.”
“No, it’s okay.” Jamie took the dress. “We’ve got to get some things settled first, that’s all. I promise you, you will be the first person to know when it’s time to shout it from the rooftops.”
That seemed to placate her. “Thank you, miss.” She smiled and helped Jamie into the gown.
Jamie sat in front of the mirror, as she did every day, and waited as Muriel put pins in her hair. As she watched the thin hands expertly separate and twist strands of hair, fixing them securely to the crown of her head, she was impressed with Muriel’s talent. The maid really was great at what she did.
“Hey, Muriel, you’d probably make a lot of money doing hair in my time.”
Muriel paused, three pins hanging from her mouth. “Really?” she slurred around them.
“Yeah. You’d have to learn some of the modern tools, blow dryers, flat irons, that kind of thing. And hair coloring. You’d need to learn that. But honestly, I think you’d pick it up, no problem. You’re really good at it.”