Perfect Husband

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Perfect Husband Page 4

by Leslie Johnson


  I breathed, “I thought you said no kissing?”

  “This isn’t kissing, babe,” he murmured, flicking his tongue into the hollow between my breasts. “This is licking… And it’s about to be sucking.”

  I wanted to throw out something cute and glib, then his mouth found my nipple and my back arched as a whimper came out of my throat. He sucked it into his hot mouth, laving the hardening bud over and over until I writhed and cried out from the mounting pleasure.

  He moved to the other nipple as his hand slowly slid down my abdomen, my muscles tightening in suspense beneath his fingers. When he reached my pajama shorts, his hand dipped easily inside and straight into my panties.

  My body jerked from the warmth of his hand as he cupped me. Then a moan escaped my opened mouth as he found my clit and began rubbing in slow circles. All the while, he’d barely taken his eyes from mine, his expression one of such interest that I couldn’t stop myself from staring right back, unable to look away. He was so beautiful, and so fucking incredibly skilled.

  It was too much. The sensations increased two-fold as his fingers dipped lower and he pushed one inside me. The sudden invasion caused me to clench around him and he stopped his movements, waiting until my inner muscles released his finger. My hips bucked, wanting more and he obliged, giving me two fingers, then three, pumping them in and out as his mouth clamped down on my nipple.

  “You’re so fucking pretty,” he said as he pulled back, his eyes on mine as he lapped his way to my other nipple and gently bit down on it. “So. Fucking. Pretty. Come for me.”

  At his command, the most wonderful orgasm rocked through me. My hips bucked forward as I cried out and his fingers curled inside me, hitting a spot that created a tight string between there and my nipple. I cried out as the room burst into brilliant pockets of light. My core clenched so hard he shouted “yes” as waves of release took me to a place of langorous delight.

  When my delicious orgasm faded, I glanced at Denton shyly. “Should I…?”

  His eyes closed, a pained expression flitting over his face. “Not tonight. If you touch me, I might end up breaking our rule of no sex.” He abruptly stood, adjusting his pajama pants, which were standing straight out, and stretched over his enormous erection. “Think you can go to sleep now?”

  He didn’t want me to touch him? I nodded, my fingers twisting the pillow to keep my hands to myself. “Yes, and… thank you. I really needed that.”

  My eyes fell to his crotch and with a curt nod, he spun on his heels and left my bedroom.

  After that incident, a strange awkwardness settled between us. For one thing, I felt shy around Denton. As for him, he would glare at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. Oh, but I noticed. I noticed, alright. He seemed almost angry with me.

  I just couldn’t figure out why.

  On Sunday morning, I sat in front of the vanity mirror and struggled with my hair. I would be having lunch with his family in about three hours, and I was growing increasingly nervous. They were probably really sophisticated people, not used to lunchdates with lower-middle class women like me. My stomach was queasy, like I was going to throw up.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you.” Denton stepped into the doorway, buttoning up his dress shirt. “You remember that woman I mentioned earlier, the one my parents wanted me to marry?”

  My heart started beating rapidly. “Yes, what about her?”

  His fingers stilled on his shirt, his posture giving away his discomfort. “Turns out she’s coming as well.”

  “Your ex-girlfriend is coming to our engagement announcement?” I laid the brush down on the vanity top a little too forcefully.

  “There’s no need for concern,” he added hastily. “She’s just going to be there because she’s like a daughter to them, grew up in the house next door. And she kind of invited herself.” He shrugged. “My parents didn’t have the heart to say no, I guess.”

  Great. Just fucking great. Not only did I have to face his formidable family, I now had to face this woman who—if this whole thing wasn’t a charade—would be my competition for loverboy’s heart. My mind flashed to what he’d done in the dark to me the other night, and I watched my face in the mirror as it turned a blushing shade of pink. I wondered if he’d ever had his hand stuck down this neighbor girl’s pants. Probably.

  Denton’s family were currently situated at the Hamptons, their favorite summer home. It was a lavish, two-story mansion with a swimming pool and a state-of-the-art kitchen.

  I felt out of place as Denton carried our bags into one of the spacious bedrooms facing the beach, the ring on my finger catching every spark of light.

  “I think they’re outside.” He slid open the door that led to a balcony. “There they are.” He turned to grin at me. “C’mon, I bet they’re dying to find out who my fiancée is.”

  Denton grabbed my hand, leading as we made our way downstairs and stepped out through the back and onto a patio that could be in Better Homes and Gardens magazine.

  “This is it, Tiffany,” he whispered, squeezing my fingers. “By the way, I love that white summer dress on you. You look amazing.”

  His praise caused a deep flush to spread across my cheeks. “Thanks,” I muttered and chanted a silent mantra, you are his wife, you are his wife, trying to channel the perfect wifeness that Denton’s real life wife would be covered in. But my palms were still sweaty.

  “Darling, you made it!” A stunning blonde woman in her fifties spread out her arms to greet Denton.

  “Mother.” I could see the family resemblence in their cheekbones and perfect hair. He smiled and planted a gentle kiss on her rouged cheek, then turned to me. “This is Tiffany Lewis, my fiancée. Tiffany, this is my mother, Gloria.”

  With a dazzling smile, Gloria drew me into a tight hug then admired the fake engagement ring. “She’s so pretty, Denton.”

  Before I could catch my breath, I was introduced to Denton’s father, Patrick.

  And finally, the patriarch of the family, Ernest North, the founder of Northern Alpine Industries. Sitting in an electric wheelchair, his intelligent eyes were trained on me, his voice gruff when he spoke. “Come here, girl, so I can see you better.” When I ventured closer, he gave me a once-over. “Hmph. So you’re the girl who’s going to give me great-grandkids one day?”

  “Umm …”

  Denton let out a soft chuckle. “Go easy on her, Gramps. It took a long time for me to convince her to even accept my proposal.”

  “Played hard to get, eh? I like that.” Ernest rubbed his jaw, which was riddled with gray whiskers. Despite his deteriorating health, he still looked bright-eyed, and his body hadn’t quite given up the signs of the athlete he’d been in his youth. “So tell me, Tiffany, how did you—”

  “Where is he? I want to see him!” a female voice cried out from behind the bushes separating the yard from the one next door.

  Ernest groaned, clearly annoyed. “Now who invited that silly girl to our private lunch?”

  “Denton!” A petite, red-haired woman came through a break in the shrubbery and threw herself at him, practically strangling him in her exuberant hug.

  With a choked greeting, he managed to peel her fingers from his neck. “Annabelle, it’s nice to see you. Let me introduce my fiancée.”

  “Oh, you brought her to the Hamptons?” She sniffed disdainfully and turned, studying me with bright blue eyes brimming with jealously. With her full rosy lips and flaming red hair, she was quite a looker. No doubt she was about the same age as Denton, but her personality made her appear years younger.

  Smiling, I stuck out a hand. “I’m Tiffany. It’s very nice to meet you.”

  She ignored my friendly gesture and pushed past me. “What are we having for lunch?” Then she stepped over to a server hovering nearby and barked, “Get me a martini, and be quick about it, because I’m dying of thirst.”

  I looked longingly at the inground pool she traipsed over to and wondered how many points I would score with Gram
ps if I pushed her in, drink and all.

  Six

  With lunch another excruciating twenty minutes away, Denton and I escaped to our guest bedroom on the second floor. I could still hear Annabelle’s grating voice floating through the tightly sealed sliding glass door. It amazed me that she and Denton had been friends for so long.

  “I like your family.” I wiggled my freshly painted coral toes as I sat on the foot of the bed. “Especially your granddad. I can see why you’re going to such lengths to please him.”

  “He’s been looking forward to this lunch.” Denton sat down beside me. “I just wish Annabelle wasn’t here. He always gets in a foul mood whenever she’s around.”

  I don’t blame him.

  Denton gave me a quick smile. “There’s really no choice but to share a bedroom while we’re at the Hamptons. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Are you going to sleep on the floor?”

  He guffawed and stretched out on the cushy mattress. “Why do that when I’ve got this comfy bed right here? If you have a problem with that, you can sleep on the floor.”

  “Fine,” I said, enjoying the surprised look on his face. He’d probably been expecting me to relent to joining him in bed after the way he’d joined me in my frustration pity party. “I’ll just pretend I’m having a slumber party and make a pillow fortress.”

  He gave me a dubious glance. “Do women your age still have slumber parties?”

  “Women will always have them. It’s a great way to unwind, watch a movie, get safely drunk with friends, and talk all night.”

  We eventually went downstairs for lunch and seated ourselves at the sleek table in the dining room. I sat to Denton’s right, while Annabelle sat to his left. The fireball never shut up, which gave me a chance to talk to Ernest.

  “I’m going to take a stab here,” I said, smiling. “You were a mountaineer and hiker in your youth.”

  His green eyes gleamed. “Go on.”

  “You loved and were also loved by many women. You traveled the world and lived like a nomad until you settled down in New York and began Northern Alpine Industries.”

  He chuckled. “Got all of this off the Internet, did you?”

  “Some of it.” I laughed along with him.

  “And yet I know nothing about you. A bit unfair, I would say.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “So spill, young Tiffany. Why are you and my grandson pretending to be engaged?”

  “What? How did you—” Shocked, I almost dropped my spoon. Was it that obvious? Or had Ernest North picked up some weird shamanistic techniques during his travels around the world? Abilities that gave him the power to read people’s minds?

  With a smirk, he returned to his cream of mushroom soup.

  While the others were preoccupied with Annabelle’s theatrics, I returned to Ernest. “Why on earth would you say such a thing? I’m in love with your grandson.”

  “Are you?” He squinted at me. “As you said earlier, I have loved and also been loved by many women. Do you know what love is and what it looks like?”

  For fuck’s sake, I was only twenty-three! That was a difficult question. The one thing I knew for sure was that love between an out of work barista and a too eligible billionaire didn’t happen every day.

  “I only know what I feel,” I said carefully, doing my best to cover my lack of love with a dreamy expression. “When Denton looks at me, I feel like the luckiest woman in the world. When he touches me…” I had to pause to steady my breath. “It makes me feel like I could never be this happy without him.”

  Ernest appeared satisfied with my answer, but now my fingers were trembling too much to get the soup to my mouth.

  Over the next course, when Gloria asked if my risotto was okay, I smiled and raved about how delicious everything was. But I felt like a zombie whose tastebuds had deteriorated to ash.

  After a while, Denton noticed how quiet I was. “Everything alright?” he asked softly, glancing at his granddad through narrowed eyes. “Did Gramps say something to you?”

  Ernest looked wounded and huffed, “I’m behaving myself. Why would you think otherwise?”

  “Because I know you.” Denton pointed his fork at him. “Only too well.”

  “Gentlemen, please.” I raised my hands in a “time-out” gesture. “Can we enjoy the meal without throwing accusations at each other?”

  Our little conversation attracted Annabelle’s attention. “What’s going on?” Her demanding tone grated on my nerves. “Are you talking about how Denton met his fiancée? If you are, don’t be rude. Share it with the rest of us.”

  I closed my eyes briefly. How could this woman be a cherished part of Denton’s family?

  Gloria clapped her hands with excitement. “Ooh, I’ve wanted to hear this story ever since Denton told us about the engagement. Tell us how it all happened.” Her expectant gaze fell on her son.

  A tight smile settled over his mouth. “Well, I met Tiffany at a nightclub, and it was love at first sight…” He rattled off the story we’d agreed on, throwing in a few more details for added effect. When he mentioned the Empire State Building, Ernest rolled his eyes and snorted loudly.

  “Women these days,” he complained. “It’s like they live in a different world from us, constantly wanting to reenact scenes from ludicrous movies.”

  “Well, I think it’s romantic!” Gloria broke in, indignant. “It’s a great way to propose to the love of your life.” She turned to smile at me. “I’m so happy for you, Tiffany.”

  I smiled, mostly because Annabelle was turning green with envy, frowning at her half eaten plate of risotto.

  For the rest of the afternoon, Denton and I went swimming at the beach. He showed me his favorite spots he’d discovered as a kid, and when the sun grew too hot, we went back into the water, splashed around and had competitions to see who could stay underwater longer.

  It amazed me when I realized I hadn’t had this much fun in ages.

  “Hey, what do you say we head back to the house and shower?” Denton pushed his wet hair out of his eyes. “You can help me get the sand out of my hair, and I can get the sand that’s between your ass cheeks.”

  Laughing, I splashed water at him. But the idea definitely had its appeal.

  By the time we trudged back into our bedroom, covered in sand, we still had two hours left before dinner. I stepped into the shower with my bathing suit still on, washing the salt and sunscreen from the expensive suit. A few seconds later, Denton joined me, pressing his warmth against my back.

  “Here, let me help with that,” he murmured, pushing the straps over my shoulders.

  I stifled a moan, turning around to glance up at him. “No sex. That’s the rule.” But I could feel my walls starting to crumble.

  “No sex,” he agreed, pushing my one-piece down to my waist. He took a moment to stare at my breasts, his breathing growing ragged. “My god, Tiffany. You’re such a beautiful woman.” Then he peeled the bathing suit down my legs, leaving me completely bare.

  “Your turn,” I said hoarsely. I watched as he pulled down his shorts, revealing every delicious line and muscle. And his cock—the guy was fucking endowed like a stallion.

  “Like what you see?” he teased, pressing his body against mine, his erection hot against my stomach.

  I gulped audibly. “Very much. Could… could you get that sand out of my ass now?”

  I’d only been joking, but he obliged by turning me to face the cold tiled wall. Then he got down on his knees and touched me from behind, running his hands between my ass cheeks, pausing to squeeze them. A delightful heat bloomed between my legs.

  And then I felt it—his tongue running between my folds, his hair tickling my sensitive flesh.

  Gasping in pleasure, I grabbed at the wall, pushing my ass into his face, my breasts flattening against the cool tile. Andy had never done this to me, and it hit me just how much our love life had been lacking.

  This. Was. Fucking. Amazing.

  My woman parts
clenched, aching to be filled as his tongue flitted teasingly into my opening.

  “I want you inside me,” I begged, unable to stop the words from coming out of my mouth. “Please, Denton. I can’t stand this?”

  “Are you sure?” His grip tightened on my hips, which undulated, making demands of their own. “Are you absolutely sure about this?”

  “Please, Denton. Forget the ‘no sex’ rule. As if we could have stuck to it for six whole months!”

  Denton rose and pressed himself against me. “Are you on the pill?”

  I nodded, angling so his thigh was between my legs, giving me some much needed pressure.

  “I’m clean. Are you?”

  I nodded again, unable to speak.

  “God, Tiffany.” Before I could prepare myself, he slammed his cock inside me, causing me to let out a scream so loud I was afraid the entire floor might have heard it. His hand wrapped around my jaw, pulling my mouth to his, muffling the cries that I had no control over as he pumped his hips, his erection stretching me to my limits. His hand snaked forward to rub my clit, moving in slow circles that sped up to match the fury of his thrusts. Our skin slapped noisily as the warm water cascaded down on us. Denton thrust his tongue into my mouth, exploring, and I sucked on it as his hands pivoted my hips for a new angle. The tip of his dick hit that glory spot, and dark spots appeared before my eyes. My lungs clamped shut, and the air in the shower grew to about a thousand degrees.

  “Come for me, baby,” he said, grunting in pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight. You feel incredible.”

  His teeth grazed over my ear, down my neck, and sunk into the valley just above my collarbone. I felt him tense behind me, making a strangled noise.

  “I’m going to come.” His fingers pressed harder on my clit, then pinched, bursting the bubble inside me, making a delicious warmth spread from my core to every cell in my body. He buried his face in my neck as he gave three more hard thrusts and filled me with his hot seed.

  Gasping for air, we stayed that way for a while, leaning against the gloriously cold wall, Denton wrapped around me from behind, the shower water pelting us. Exhausted and completely satiated.

 

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