by Mimi Barbour
Finally, he straightened and again began to stroke her. Like supernatural instruments, his fingers wove magic into her skin so that every cell tingled from pure pleasure. The moan she’d tried to hold in by biting down on her lip escaped, and his moan joined with hers.
He levered himself next to her on the bed and shifted her over to make room. His hands never left her body. As they worked a spell, her snit slowly began to fade, replaced by tingles and longings. The camisole to her pj’s covered only the bare essentials therefore he had access to a lot of skin. He didn’t miss much with palms large enough to cover a lot of space. Warm turned hot, and the intensity turned her bones to mush.
Hard, then soft, his fingers reached all her stress points. His hands lifted her arms out from under her head and raised them to the top of her pillow so he could soothe that skin as well. Rubbing from the tops of her fingers, down her arms, then her shoulders towards her back, and then down her sides altered her sighs to groans. She began to push herself upwards like a cat arching to the touch from a beloved master.
The tips of his fingers followed the shape of her body and pressed down, caressing the curves of her flattened breasts. There. Oh, God yes. Like a direct current, the electricity started her muscles clenching and her body weeping. Words, like she’d never heard before, streamed from his lips as he leant over her.
“Chica linda. Mi bella esposa.”
She answered with only one word. “English.”
His chuckle made her smile. “I called you my beautiful girl. Sheri, you are so lovely.” His gentle hands continued their journey. Molding and rubbing her until, fluid-like, she began to writhe.
“Your skin is incredibly soft, like silk or velvet or...” The moan he couldn’t hold back complimented more than his adjectives. Gathering her hair out of his way, he again buried his face in her curls before nuzzling her shoulder and licking his way up to her neck. “I want to kiss you everywhere. Your back.” His lips carried out his will. “Your front.” He turned her slowly and his hot mouth followed his hands around and under her arm to where her nipples awaited, swollen and throbbing. “And your breasts.”
Face to face, the faint light from the wall lamp beside the bed highlighted his features. The expression of gentle caring, his eyes filled with hunger and passion undid the ties to her scruples. She raised her arms and by doing so, gave her silent permission for him to do with her as he wished. It’s been too damn long.
He stood and peeled off his shirt and slacks before again lowering himself beside her. Slowly, he lifted the quilt away from them both and slid his arms around her to scoop her nearer. His frame bent over her, blocking the light and she closed her eyes. As if he couldn’t stop, Spanish words flowed at the same time as his hands roamed.
When his palms cupped her cheeks, her eyes opened in time to see his lips descend. Her ready mouth became the target for his next assault. Then she experienced her last viable thought, before sensation took over. Yes!
His tongue worked magic with hers but soon his mouth strayed to where his hands played. While he licked and kissed every inch of skin above her waist, his stroking, invading fingers wandered lower.
In her defense, she wasn’t exactly sure where to touch him to return the favors he’d been heaping on her, so she let her hands wander at will. When she fondled his hair, more to hold him in place than anything else, he stopped his kissing long enough to arch his head up into her hand and growl, sounding very much like a contented wild beast.
He likes to be petted. How nice. Random thoughts broke through her sexual haze.
As if her touches had pushed a button reminding him of the ultimate goal, he peeled off the rest of their clothing and nudged her trembling legs apart to nestle between them. Seeking entrance to where pleasure seductively waited, his movements became mesmerizing. The feel of him, his length and heat transformed her quivering into full-fledged pulsations. While the throbbing built, her brain cried out for release, screaming for fulfillment. A hot pool of excited wetness gushed inside her and formed in readiness.
Nothing in the world could have stopped her gyrating, or her angling invitations of welcome. With resolve, Miguel slid himself fully inside Sheri’s body and his ensuing moans delighted her. They were finally one. Sheri shifted to accommodate him, to fill herself and to give him the utmost enjoyment.
His body swelled. It filled hers, stretching her insides to a point of tender ecstasy. With each thrust, he felt larger and harder, until she felt him as deep as could be possible. Sensations built to the exploding point.
With a final plunge, his body became fully sheathed. Her legs lifted to wrap around his hips. They slid off from the moisture until he spread his knees to help her balance. Even in such a moment, she loved that he cared for her comfort.
This small gesture produced a flood of affection and started indescribable waves of gratification to overflow. Maybe it was her whimpers or possibly her body’s pulsations that seemed to ignite him as he gave one last plunge and released himself into her clutching, gripping vortex.
Spanish endearments, gentle hugs and soft lips were the last thing she remembered as her emotional exhaustion worked its enchantment, and she fell asleep in his arms.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sheri awoke in a cold bed full of hot memories. Images of what she’d allowed him to do to her the night before, and the places on her body he’d claimed, flashed and gnawed at her until she jammed the pillow on top of her messy mop of hair.
As she lay there in her dark hidey-hole remembering, she wobbled between gladness that they’d been so physically in tune with each other and fear that her very satisfied body might not be all that’s involved.
An insane need to share the secret she’d learned from Felipe’s partner, plagued her for a few seconds until self-protection kicked in.
Not yet, she thought. Once spoken, those words can never be unsaid. If Miguel knew he had ammunition, things might change. The undeniable fact was, once she gave him that power, she’d be at his mercy. At the mercy of a man who’d do anything to get his hands on her children. Even force her into a fake marriage.
“The twins!” Her maternal instincts kicked into high gear, and she bolted from the bed and rushed down the hall to the nursery.
The man of her recent daydreams held Carrie-Anne in his arms, while a sweet look of fascination showed on his smiling countenance. The baby’s chubby hands cradled Miguel’s face while she grinned adoration straight into his eyes with the force of a pile driver. Half-dressed, chest naked and cotton pyjama bottoms slung low, tousled hair and a sleep crease on his cheek, the man looked delectable, certainly good enough to hug. Something made her hesitate.
Hiding at the doorway, Sheri saw his delight and the kiss he gently placed on the little one’s cheek. She then saw him reach to place his hand on the watchful little boy still in the crib. Rafael gurgled and babbled his need for a turn in the big man’s arms. As if he felt the need to demonstrate his wishes, he lifted his tiny arms beseechingly. Miguel fondled the Rafael’s face and whispered nonsense before lifting him to join his sister.
The tears visible in the big man’s eyes weren’t for her to see, nor was the visible trembling of his fingers, but she did. Emotions gripped her hard. She tiptoed away, allowing him the tender moments he seemed to need so desperately.
Sheri went back to her bed, not wishing for her fake husband to see her weakness, her tears of empathy.
Footsteps warned her of his return. She quickly swiped at her eyes, rolled over on her stomach and slid low with arms wrapped around her pillow. Carrying both babies, he tiptoed into the room and peeked around the door to see if she had woken.
“You’re up and you’ve had a good sleep, eight full hours. Since its early morning, you could be well on your way to becoming acclimatized to the time difference. For some, it’s a huge problem and can take up to a few weeks to begin feeling normal.”
“I feel fine.” The heat in her cheeks warned her about the blush.
She hated the childish habit, but her body reacted without consulting her over this particular tendency. To compel his eyes away from her, she pointed at the waving tots in his arms. “Did they wake you?”
“Not really. I went to check on them before I left for the office, and they were gabbling away to each other quite happily. I couldn’t resist a visit.”
“I know what you mean. They amuse, don’t they?” Her arms lifted to reach for them.
His gaze skimmed her body as she leaned towards him, fixating on her draping bodice. Banked fires re-ignited and the look in his eyes scorched her to the tips of her wriggling fingers now fisted.
“Stop looking at me.” The words wrenched out in a whispered moan. Her arms dropped to cross over her chest and to hold in the yearning that had flared up and overwhelmed.
“You’re my wife. You’re lovely with your blushes and soft skin. If I didn’t have a thousand things to do today, I’d get undressed and come back into our bed.”
She spoke before she thought. “Not a good idea. Margarita might call and you’d have to leave.”
Hard shots of anger flamed from his eyes, and his mouth tightened. “What do you know of Margarita? Why would you say such a thing?”
“I know she called yesterday and you went running. My first day here, Miguel, she kept you away.” Her backbone had never been a problem for her, but her mouth was a totally different matter. What the hell possessed her to mention what she wasn’t supposed to have heard? His searching look peeled away her bravery and left her sighing. “I listened to your mother trying to talk some sense into you yesterday. I didn’t mean to overhear.” She added the last part to soothe his visible anger.
“Forget about Margarita. She means nothing.” He spat the words, while the dismissive flick of his hand revealed disdain. Whether at her or Margarita, Sheri didn’t know.
He strode toward the walk-in closet, the same size as her whole bedroom back home. While she’d visited with Andrea yesterday, Maria had organized his belongings next to her paltry collection. Without changing his stride or looking her way, he remarked. “I’ll be home after lunch and we’ll go sightseeing.” Behind him, the door clicked at the same time as her mouth snapped shut when she bit off the expletive.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
When Miguel left his dressing room and headed for breakfast, he wished he could reach his own ass and give it a good swift kick. What was he thinking? Why had he reacted to his gorgeous new wife with arrogance and anger when she’d done nothing wrong?
Yesterday, he’d called his lawyer to start the adoption proceedings. He’d warned himself that he needed to earn her trust in order to get her to sign the papers. Most of the time, he didn’t doubt she would. Yet every so often, she’d get that look, secretive even sly, and it made him nervous. Then this morning she admitted to eavesdropping. What other little foibles did Sheri hide?
He had to face the fact that he hadn’t known his wife for long. Felipe, his brother, had raved about Sheri during the days he and Mary-Anne had spent in Chile on their honeymoon. For Miguel, that was a darn good recommendation. In fact, Felipe had been sorry that Miguel had been engaged because his brother had decided he and Sheri would make the perfect couple. From the first day Miguel had met her, she’d attracted him both as a woman and a mother. Then as the weeks slid by, his liking grew.
In the past, he had always prided himself on his knack for reading people, and ninety percent of the time he’d swear she was a woman to be trusted, but what the hell did he know? After his experiences with Margarita, could he even trust in his judgement? Sheri had promised that she was free of commitments, had no-one in her life, but then again, hadn’t he heard her gushing lovey-dovey to her Charlie?
Caramba! Hadn’t he learned his lesson with cheating females? Yesterday he’d seen the real woman behind the false manners and well-applied makeup, married to scum while she’d played him for a fool. After the police had arrived, the lying witch had still tried her ploys. Begging him for help, promising him anything he wanted, lies spilling from her beautiful lips like a sore oozing infection.
To think at one time he’d believed in Margarita, even thought he’d father her children. Now the idea made him nauseous. Either she’d been one hell of a performer, or he’d been a lust-filled, swelled-headed idiot.
These recriminations had all been dealt with last night, while sitting and suffering alone in his car. He’d decided to forgive his foolishness and let go, and he had. He’d made peace with himself over Margarita’s treachery, but with his new wife, he knew there’d never be peace for him again if he succumbed to her wiles.
After the way she’d given herself to him the night before, the incredible way they’d come together, hot and beautiful, he’d do well to keep his heart out of the equation and stick to building a relationship with her on liking and trust. Friendship wouldn’t be problem. He’d never met anyone of her gender that he’d liked more.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Andrea sat alone in the cozy sunroom they used as a breakfast area when it was too cool to eat on the patio. Surrounded by hanging flower baskets and lush plants in terracotta planters, the bright space lived up to its name. Predominant colors of whites, yellows and greens along with lots of glass worked well in producing a relaxed atmosphere.
Happy to be back in the impressive home where he grew up, Miguel smiled his greeting.
“Buenas Dias, Mamacita.
“Buenas Dios, Miguel. Breakfast is hot and I have no doubt Maria has again spoiled you.”
Food waited in heated containers on a side table, and the smells of ham, eggs-benedict and toast made him aware that this was another meal that had been prepared in his honor.
“Maria indulges you. She knows your penchant for American breakfasts, but she reminded me to tell you, fruit first.”
Quickly adding a large glass of orange juice to his choices, he leaned over to greet his mother before taking his seat. Every Chilean child knew a kiss on the cheek in greeting and leaving a room satisfied the customs, a great way for Latino families to keep affection and touching prevalent in today’s faced-paced society.
“Hello, Beautiful. Hope you slept well.” He stabbed two slices of cantaloupe from the lavishly filled plate nearby and winked at the woman watching him with love beaming.
“I did and from the satisfaction written over your face, I think you must have also. Did Sheri and the babies pass a good night? I worried about the time difference.”
“They are fine, Mamá. Sheri’s getting them organized now and will be downstairs soon.”
“She’s a lovely girl, Miguel. Kind, sweet-tempered, and very good with the babies.”
“Yes. She has a lot of patience. I noticed it right off.”
“If only Felipe and Mary-Anne could have seen their family. He would have been so proud.” Her voice wobbled, but just a little.
“Don’t fret, Mamacita. Your grandchildren are here with us now. You’ll be able to watch over them growing up, and from your stories, those two will get to know about their papá and to love his memory.”
She reached over to hold the clenched hand, which immediately opened to grip hers. “Thank you for bringing them to me. You’re a good son, Miguel, and a good man. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you.” He grinned and teased. “I’m afraid I’ll be losing my ‘numero uno’ status very soon. Between my wife and those two little devils, you’ll be too busy to pay any attention to me.”
His whining tone made her laugh. “Never. Well… maybe a little? Who’re you again?”
Her chuckling made his heart soar. What a lovely sound. He cocked his head. “I think I hear my wife coming now.” In the distance, rumbling could be heard as Sheri pushed the stroller towards them.
“Oh good. Maria said there was a message from an acquaintance of hers named Charly. She’s to call the number back as soon as possible. Isn’t it nice that she has a good friend since she has no immediate family… except for us of course?”
Losing his taste for the barely-begun meal, Miguel pushed his plate away and stood to leave. Sarcasm dripped from heated words as he answered. “By all means, she mustn’t keep her friend waiting.”
“Miguel?”
He heard her entreaty and instantly felt annoyed at his behavior. His mother didn’t deserve his biting tongue, and he couldn’t share it with the woman who did.
He stopped at the opened door without turning around. “I’ve just remembered some files that will need my attention, Mamá. I’ll be too busy to take my wife sightseeing after siesta, even though I promised. Can you arrange for Paula to show her around for the next while, maybe take her shopping?”
“Really, Miguel. Don’t tell me you’re leaving her alone again today? What will she think of our Chilean hospitality?”
“She’ll think her husband’s a busy man whose company needs his attention after he’s ignored things for far too long.”
“A company can be run by a paid employee. A marriage, on the other hand, cannot be ignored and survive. Don’t be a fool.”
He knew he closed the door rudely, cutting off the woman who loved him unconditionally, but he couldn’t respond with any truth as to why he acted this way. His palms hurt from the force of his nails digging in, and he’d bitten the side of his cheek when his jaw clamped shut.
How could he tell her how much he despised the name Charlie?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Charly, is everything all right? Andrea told me you wanted to speak to me as soon as possible.”
“Finally! Hot damn, girlfriend. I’ve been waiting forever for you to get back to me. Hold onto those thongs you modern girls call panties.”
“What? Don’t keep me waiting, you brat?”
The following silence added the theatrical ambience so typical of Charly. Before Sheri could smack the phone into the wall, Charly hollered, “I sold the book! Sheri, they gave me an advance of ten thousand. Can you believe it?”