Beautiful Ever After: Beautiful Illusions Duet Book 2

by Cates, Georgia

  “Are you sure that’s best? Keeping something so important from your husband?”

  “Hutch wants to be a good example for Ava Rose by doing what is right. I respect my husband for wanting to do the honorable thing, but it isn’t going to win this battle with the Lochridges. I firmly believe that we must do what is necessary in this instance, right or wrong, if we’re to be good examples for her later.”

  The wives voice their agreement at the same time.

  “You’re a strong woman who is choosing to take control of this situation and do what needs to be done for your family. Ava Rose couldn’t be in better hands.”

  Bleu respects what I’m doing. I see it in her eyes.

  Hutch may be angry with me for doing this behind his back, but I truly believe in my heart that it’s the only way to end this. I hope he’s able to see that I’m doing this out of my love for him and Ava Rose.

  Everything I do is for them.

  25

  Maxwell Hutcheson

  Damn, something smells good.

  I love Monday nights. Very little compares to coming home from a long day at the office to a delicious Cajun meal cooked by my wife. She is an excellent chef.

  “Hutch?” she calls out.

  I place my briefcase on the table beside the door leading out to the garage. “Aye, it’s me.”

  “Don’t come into the kitchen. Go around the other way.”

  That’s odd. She’s never asked me to do that before. “Any special reason I must go that way?”

  “I have a surprise and I’m not ready for you to see it.”

  Hmm… a surprise? “Where should I go?”

  “Wait for me in the dining room. I’ll be there in a minute to serve you.”

  To serve me? Fuck, I don’t hate the way that sounds. “I’m hungry. Don’t keep me waiting for long or I’ll come for you.”

  “Oh, I know you will.”

  I take my seat at the head of the table and contemplate what in the world my wife is up to. She’s never made me bypass the kitchen and go into the dining room without seeing her.

  What is that wee vixen up to?

  Lou comes into the dining room and I inspect her from head to toe as she walks toward me.

  White lace see-through apron trimmed with black satin ribbon. Black sash tied around her waist. Black garters and hose. No bra. No knickers. I can easily see her rosy pink nipples and that wee strip of hair between her legs that I love so much.

  “Fuck, Lou.”

  “A whisky before dinner?”

  “Aye.”

  She places a glass on the table in front of me. “Three fingers?”

  I may ask her that same question later.

  “Aye. Please.”

  She pours my whisky and places the bottle on the table.

  “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “I am indeed. Where is everyone?”

  “I sent everyone home except for Mrs. McVey. She’s with Ava Rose in the nursery. I asked her to stay over and take care of her tonight.”

  “They’re in the nursery now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then come here.”

  I reach out, grabbing her around the waist, and pull her onto my lap.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  My chest vibrates when I chuckle. “Well, if you don’t know then I’m not doing it right.”

  Grasping the back of her neck, I pull her closer and our mouths open simultaneously. Her tongue meets mine and I taste a hint of whisky. “Mmm… someone has already had some water of life?”

  “Maybe.”

  “It’s not like you to drink whisky without me.”

  “I was with friends.”

  “Rachel?”

  “No. Bleu and the other wives.”

  “How many drinks did you have?”

  “One whisky turned into two. And two turned into three.”

  “Are you smashed?”

  “No, but I feel pretty good.”

  “You feel pretty good, aye?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  She parts her legs when my hand moves up her inner thigh. “Do you know what I want to do to you right now?”

  “I’m not sure but I know it involves allowing dinner to get cold.”

  “Aye, mo maise. Dinner is going to be cold when I’m finished with you.”

  Standing, I lift Lou’s body with mine and lower her bum to the table. “You’ll never look at this table again without remembering what I’m about to do to you on top of it.”

  I’m impatient to fuck my wife on top of this table, but my body must be content with delayed gratification. My wife comes before me.

  She trembles and her breath increases when I trail my fingers down her stomach, dipping them into her navel, and stroking that thin strip of hair over her groin. Petting her. “Such an appetizing pussy you have, Mrs. Hutcheson.”

  Lou squirms beneath me, her bottom lip held prisoner by her upper teeth. “Taste me.”

  “Patience, mo maise.”

  There’ll be no instant gratification for either of us. I’m going to make this last.

  She moans as my mouth follows the same path my fingers just took, my wet tongue—in place of my finger—dipping into her navel this time.

  “You take great joy in teasing me,” she whispers.

  “Patience, my love. I’m going to give you what you want.”

  “I know you will. You always do.”

  I drop to my knees and push her thighs apart, taking a brief moment to appreciate the pink, shiny, swollen beauty between my wife’s legs. I love that it’s mine. Only mine. No other man gets to see it, smell it, touch it, or taste it.

  I inhale deeply, taking in her intoxicating scent. I swear that there’s nothing in the world like it. It’s unique only to her and my cock instantly reacts to the fragrance. Because he also knows it well.

  “Are you trying to kill me or what, Hutch?”

  “I told you, love. Patience.”

  Her body jolts when I barely touch her clit with the tip of my finger. “Someone is extra sensitive this evening.”

  “Yes.”

  Applying a little more pressure, I rotate my finger in a circle at the top of her slit, massaging that tiny little erect protrusion of skin and nerves. “Is that what you want, Lou?”

  The bottom of her feet land on top of my shoulders and her toes dig into the flesh. “Oh God. You are so good at that.”

  “My mouth is jealous. He wants his turn.”

  “By all means, give it to him.”

  I lower my head between her legs and drag my tongue upward, taking special care of her clit with the stiffened tip. Her body vibrates like a leaf trembling in a soft wind.

  “Mmm… mmm… mmm.”

  I don’t need to hear validation through words from Lou. Her sexy sounds tell me everything I need to hear: when to give it to her harder, when to move faster. And right now, her sounds are telling me that she is close to the edge. But I’m not going to let it happen just yet. Because I want to hear her beg for it.

  I stop and look up at her writhing on the table, deliberately leaving my mouth close enough for her to feel my warm breath.

  “Hutch! What are you doing?”

  “Just slowing things down a bit.”

  “I don’t want you to slow things down. Keep going. I’m so close to coming.” I hear the desperation in her voice. And I love it.

  “Beg me.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Beg for your orgasm.”

  Lou pushes her fingers into the top of my hair. “Please, Hutch. I’m going to lose it if you don’t start back.”

  I lick her a few more times, enough to reinitiate what was already there. “Go ahead. Keep begging me for it.”

  Lou’s upper body props against the table and she looks down, watching me. And that mouth of hers. It’s a perfect O while she watches me eat her out.

  “Make me come. Please, Hutch. I want it so badly. I need it. I�
��ll die if you don’t give it to me.”

  I take her to the peak of her orgasm and her entire body spasms, shuddering and twisting from her intense release. And then I’m rewarded with a flood of sweet nectar on my tongue.

  I get up from my knees and stand, looking down at the shattered mess I’ve made of my wife.

  Her eyes on mine. Her mouth smiling. Her every muscle relaxed.

  Absolute contentment. That’s what I see laid before me on the table.

  I open my hand and place it against the space between her breasts. It isn’t quite over her heart but I can still feel the pounding just to the right.

  I drag my hand down until it’s splayed over her flat stomach. My palm and outstretched fingers look so big against the backdrop of her small frame. And I find myself wondering what she’ll look like as her belly grows with our child.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” she says, her voice soft and low.

  Now isn’t the time for that conversation. “Ask me later. Right now, I want you to wrap your legs around me so I can fuck you.”

  She smiles and lifts her legs, locking them behind my arse. “Anything you want.”

  I bring my palms down against the sides of her hips, making a smacking sound. “That’s what I like to hear out of my obedient wife.”

  I position my cock at her entrance and lower my upper body to hers because I want to hear her gasp against my ear when I shove my cock inside of her.

  That sexy, breathy sound on the first thrust. There’s nothing like it.

  “Ahh.”

  Hell, yeah. There it is. I love hearing that sharp intake of air so fucking much.

  I rise and watch Lou’s face while I move inside of her. Her green-brown eyes are locked on mine, and I know in my heart that no woman has or ever will consume me the way she does. “You have my heart, my soul, everything that makes me who I am. It’s all yours.”

  “As I am yours.”

  I feel something with Lou that I never felt without her.

  Complete.

  26

  Caitriona Hutcheson

  You know how it feels when you walk into a spider web and the more you try to pick the web off, the stickier it becomes? I’m going to be the spider who spins the web that is going to stick to Blair. Only she isn’t going to be able to free herself. The harder she fights to be rid of me, the more my web and I are going to cling to her.

  And the best part of it all? I’m an underestimated predator she won’t see coming.

  Bleu, Shaw, and I enter Bleu’s—I’m not sure what to call it. Office? That doesn’t feel like the right word. Evidence room? Maybe. That feels like a better fit.

  Photos attached to a wall. Colored strings tied from one pin to another forming a rainbow web. Stacks of papers on the table in the middle of the room.

  “Wow. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “You can never tell anyone about this room or the things you see while you’re in it. We’re allowing you to be here because you’re Max’s wife and we have business. We’re placing our trust in you as an extension of the trust we have in him. It would be the worst decision of your life to betray us.”

  Fuck. I think my safety—and maybe my life—were just threatened. “I understand and I will never tell anyone.”

  “Good. Now that we have that out of the way, let’s get down to it.”

  Shaw pushes a stack of papers in front of me at least eight inches high. “My connection hit the golden jackpot of filth on that bitch. You can have your pick of how you want to blackmail her.”

  “What is all of this?”

  “Copies of her texts, emails, private messages on social media platforms… and on dating websites.”

  “She’s posing as a single woman?”

  Shaw laughs. “She’s posing as something, but it’s not a single white female.”

  “Then what?”

  Bleu places a photo of a man on the table and pushes it toward me. “Do you know this man?”

  Dark hair, a little thin on top. Brown eyes. The man is handsome—very handsome in fact—but I can’t recall ever seeing him. “He doesn’t look familiar to me.”

  “His name is Roman Kirk. He and Mina connected a few months before she was in the car accident.”

  Could he be Ava Rose’s father?

  I look at the photo again, searching for any similarities between the two. It’s impossible to see anything when Ava Rose looks so much like Mina.

  “Wait, I’m confused. You found these messages between Mina and this man on Blair’s computer?”

  “Yes. There are thousands of them,” Shaw says.

  Wow. Blair was helping Mina cheat on Hutch?

  “Everything that you’re thinking right now is wrong. The messages on Blair’s computer weren’t Mina’s to him. They were Roman Kirk’s to her.”

  I’m not following. “I’m sorry. I need you to explain what this means.”

  “It’s confusing, we know,” Bleu says and gestures to Shaw. “She’s about to explain everything.”

  “There can only be two possible explanations. One would be that Blair knows the man and she was allowing him to use her computer. It’s completely possible but very unlikely. The second option, which is the one that I’m leaning toward, would be that Blair was online impersonating this man.”

  Like catphishing? “You think Blair was messaging with Mina and pretending to be this man?”

  “There are thousands of messages between Mina and this man at all times of the day and night using her IP address. I absolutely believe that she was pretending to be this man.”

  “Why would Blair do that to Mina?”

  “If we knew the answer to that question then we’d probably know why Blair transferred ten thousand pounds into the man’s account.”

  I can’t believe I’m about to say this. “Blair is filthier than I expected.”

  “Blair left us a great online trail, and it proves many things but it’s just an outline. You’ll have to go see Roman Kirk if you want to hear the full story.”

  Bleu rejoins the conversation. “And I suspect you’ll need to take plenty of cash when you do. I have a feeling this man isn’t going to spill the beans free of charge. Do you have readily available cash without asking Max for it?”

  “I have my own money.” Thank God.

  “Enough to pay this man off?”

  “I have more than enough to buy his version of the story.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I don’t want to do this alone.” I’m scared. And I’m scared to admit that I’m scared.

  “There’s no way in hell that we’d let you do this alone,” Bleu says.

  Shaw nods. “For sure. Not even a chance.”

  “You have no idea how much I appreciate your support. I don’t have a lot of friends. Only one really.”

  “I’m speaking on behalf of everyone and I hope they don’t mind my saying so but you have five new friends in Shaw, Ellison, Lorna, Westlyn, and myself.”

  “That makes me really happy to hear. Thank you.”

  I’ve never really been one for making friends. As a child and adolescent, I was too embarrassed to bring friends home. I didn’t want them to see my mom drunk or strung out. And after I came to live with Heidi and my dad, I was still ashamed. I didn’t want anyone to see how unloved and unwanted I was by my own dad and stepmother.

  I had one friend when I was a child in New Orleans, and then I was friendless until I met Rachel at The Last Drop. We’ve been peas and carrots ever since.

  “Can you get the money today?” Bleu asks.

  “I can get it within the hour.”

  “Then I say that we do this today.”

  Man, it would be wonderful to not worry about Blair anymore. Hutch and I could finally announce our marriage. No more hiding as though we’re the ones doing wrong.

  “I’m ready to put this to bed for good. Let’s do this.”

  Bleu bites her bottom lip and fist pumps the
air. “Hell yes. This is going to be fun.”

  She goes to the desk, opens the drawer—and holy shit—takes out a handgun. “Don’t be afraid, Cait. I’m only taking my baby as a precaution.”

  Her baby?

  They’re Bella Mafia, Cait. And Bleu is a former FBI agent. Of course, she carries a gun. What did you expect?

  Bleu cocks the gun and looks down the chamber. At least that’s what I think she’s doing. I really have no idea. “Do you shoot?”

  “No.”

  “You should let me teach you sometime. And I can also teach you how to defend yourself.”

  “I know basic self-defense.”

  “I can teach you so much more than the basics.”

  “I would love that. Thank you.”

  * * *

  Roman Kirk works in a kiltmaker shop?

  A. Kiltmaker. Shop. Yes, it’s one of the fancier shops where they tailor fit the customer and charge an outrageous price. But still, he spends his days catering to Scotsmen who see themselves as better than him.

  The whole thing is so damn puzzling. From what I know about Mina, I can’t see her being with a man like him no matter how good-looking he is.

  “Good afternoon. How may I help you?”

  “Are you Roman Kirk?”

  “I am.”

  “My name is Cait and I’m hoping you can help me. I have some questions about Mina. But more specifically about her sister Blair.”

  His pleasant expression fades. “I have nothing to say about either of them.”

  I remove an envelope from my jacket pocket. “Would the stack of money in this envelope motivate you to have something to say about them?”

  “It would help. But I’m working right now.” He looks at the front of the store and then plucks a kilt from a rack, pretending to show it to us. “That isn’t a conversation I can have here and now. I’m engaged to be married to the owner’s daughter, so you can see how that might be a sensitive topic.”

  “Can you meet us after work?”

  He returns the kilt to the rack. “My shift ends at five. Name a place and I’ll be there.”

  I look at Bleu for a suggestion since I have no idea what makes a good location for a meeting like this.