Romantic Promises (Alluring Promises Series, #2)

by Baker, Janice

  She was as tall as I am in her heels, which is pretty tall. I’m 6’2” and she was wearing at least four-inch heels and had nice long legs. I glanced down at her dress. She dressed like a socialite in a light blue wrap around dress with diamonds draped around her neck, ear lobes and wrists like rich women do to show off their wealth. If I’m going to be yelled at by a bitch, at least she’s a sexy one.

  “I thought going through the rehearsal three times was enough.” I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, but I probably didn’t do a great job. I took a sip of my beer.

  “That wasn’t for you to decide, mister,” she hissed. I stared at her face noticing her makeup was perfect. She must have fixed it in the car because it didn’t look like that earlier while we were out in the heat all day doing our three rehearsals.

  “True. You’re right, Ms. Montreaux. I’m very sorry.” I apologized and made sure my facial expression matched.

  “You should be. This is a huge wedding, Matthew. Huge.” She stressed.

  “I realize that. I was curious about that actually.” I crossed one arm across my chest and my other elbow resting on that arm, with my hand under my chin, so I could listen intently to what she had to say. No, I wasn’t really interested, but she didn’t need to know that. I was going to make a point how big of a circus this wedding had become. I wasn’t sure if she’d get my point, but I was sure as hell going to try. “How did this wedding manage to get so large?”

  She seemed a bit surprised about my question as she recoiled back slightly. “Well, it’s all the best families in the city. You can’t invite some and not the others.”

  “Fair enough. However, Mel and Flynn don’t even know half the guest list.” I dropped my hands to my hips and gave her a curious look. “I would think that this is their wedding and they should be with people who know and love them. This looks like it got a little out of hand.”

  “You don’t know the first thing about weddings and who should and shouldn’t be invited.” I looked down at her lips while she was talking to me and then ran my tongue along mine. She had some really nice lips and I thought if I could steer her mind away from pressuring Mel all night, then this is how I was going to do it.

  She noticed as I watched her gaze drop down to my lips and her attitude changed a bit. Her shoulders relaxed and her stance changed. She leaned into me again, but this time in a friendlier manner. “What are you doing, Matthew?” She asked raising the corner of her mouth.

  “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” I asked as I brought my attention back up to her eyes and added a small teasing smile. Mel needs to be left alone tonight and, well, Aunt Claire’s actually a pretty attractive woman. At least a nice flirtation would work out to both our benefit.

  “Matthew, are you trying to flirt with me?” She asked as her whole demeanor changed and she tilted her head to the side.

  I gave her a sexy smile and then put my arm around her, turning her towards the bar. “Ms. Montreaux, what would you like to drink?” I glanced back at her as she raised both her eyebrows and returned a small sexy smile as she let me guide her to the corner of the bar. I held the bar stool out for her and she perched herself as she flipped her hair over her shoulder seductively.

  “Grey Goose on the rocks, please,” she replied as she crossed her legs and her eyes grazed down my body, lingering on my crotch. “Claire, please call me Claire, Matthew.”

  Yeah, the things I do for my friends.

  Chapter 7

  Vanessa

  It was Friday night and Aubrey had a date. Again. I have a fiancé and am always stuck at home, but she manages to get more action than I do. I was sitting in front of the TV watching a romance movie and decided to text Charles.

  Me: How late do you think you’ll work tonight? I was thrilled that I received an immediate response, but felt immediately let down when I read his response.

  Charles: No idea yet. Probably really late.

  I frowned staring at his text and then sat there glaring at the movie, not really watching it, wondering how I managed to become so lonely on a Friday night. A commercial came on about meeting singles in your town and I grimaced at the people they showed. They had to be models because surely people like that aren’t contacting singles groups. Then I thought of Aubrey and how beautiful she is and she still contacts these dating services. Her reason is more so for finding guys to have sex with and then to toss away.

  I love Aubrey and know how hurt she has really been. She isn’t looking for love, but I know she secretly wants it. Who doesn’t? Isn’t that what everyone is searching for? Someone to spend their life with…to share hopes and dreams with?

  I sat back pondering my love questions in my head and realized I was glad I had Charles. Charles. I do love him and at this moment, I really wanted to be with him. I knew he was working, but I decided I would head over to his apartment and wait for him.

  I ran to my bedroom, my heart pumping full of excitement. I took a long hot shower taking special care to shave and use my most luxurious body wash. I washed and dried my hair, adding the slight curl to it that Charles has told me he loved so much.

  I pulled out my bright blue corset and matching panties and grabbed my short black trench coat. Looking in the mirror at how sexy I looked, I smiled at my reflection. I felt so seductive and alluring. Something that has always seemed so difficult for me to achieve.

  I rechecked the mirror and fluffed my auburn hair. I took a deep breath and winked at myself in the mirror.

  Vanessa, you have come a long way from being that overweight teenager.

  I blew myself a kiss, grabbed my purse and headed out the door.

  The drive over to Charles’ apartment felt longer than usual. I couldn’t figure out if I was nervous because I was doing something so out of the ordinary for me or if he would turn me down. Men don’t turn down their women when they dress like this, right? Unless I looked stupid…Or silly…Or seemed like a sex-starved fiancée. Would he like me being so…forward?

  I let myself into his apartment with the key he had given me so long ago. I smiled to myself as I remembered how sweet he was when he did it. He gave it to me on my birthday in a wrapped gift box. He told me I could even move some things in if I wanted to for when I spent the night there.

  I frowned realizing I didn’t stay overnight very often because he works and studies so much. He’s always tired and I don’t really want to intrude on that.

  As I walked around his apartment, I pondered where I should be “positioned” for him to find me. I walked over to the couch, knowing he would see me when he threw his keys into the bowl on the table right beside the couch. I decided to go ahead and take off my coat, knowing it wouldn’t look sexy, but really just odd. I sprawled myself on the couch like one of the models I’ve seen in my lingerie magazines. Draped seductively in just my bra and panties. I even left my heels on for added effect and then waited.

  And waited.

  And then…I nodded off to sleep.

  I woke the next morning and wondered if Charles had even come home. I realized he must have since I had a blanket covering me. Tucked into place around my body. I stood up, slightly cramped from my “position” on the couch and began to investigate his apartment for signs of him. I heard him before I located him, unfortunately. He was in bed, perfectly tucked in and snoring soundly.

  I walked over to his bed. Seeing his angelic face asleep reminded me why I loved him so much. Then I glanced around the room. Everything in here was…perfect. Nothing like most bachelors. Although we’re engaged, he still lives alone. Most men would have at least some mess. I have a mess in my room and I’m not even a guy.

  I walked over to his dresser and opened one of his chestnut wood drawers. Perfectly folded undershirts. You would think he was in the military by the looks of his dresser drawer. He never was, nor were his parents. He’s just…neat, I reminded myself.

  I opened another drawer. His underwear drawer. He even folds his boxers. And they’re�
��color coordinated. I glanced to the top of his dresser. Everything was put in place. In perfect place. I ran my finger along the lines of the grains in the wood and looked at my finger again. No dust.

  I glanced around his room seeing everything had its place. I walked towards his closet and slid the mirrored door over. Perfect. Every piece of clothing was hung properly, by color, by short or long sleeve. His pants were hung in perfect succession, again, by color. The floor of his closet was completely clean and all his shoes were arranged on the shoe rack, again by color and seemingly organized by season.

  Perfect.

  I slid the door back into place and glanced into my reflection. Not perfect. My hair was mussed and my mascara was smeared, as was the red lipstick on my lips.

  I wandered into his bathroom and looked at his counter. Nothing was out of place in here either. I fixed my make up and determined I needed to reconnect with my fiancé. I needed to get that thrill with him again. Unfortunately, as I glanced at my reflection I realized tears were forming.

  Was this my future? Perfect? Nothing out of place? Would I be able to fit into that? He worked out daily. He ate properly at every meal. It was all perfect, except for his sleep pattern because of being a doctor and busy on call. As for everything else in his life, nothing was out of place.

  How on earth would I really fit into his world?

  I reviewed my appearance again as I tucked my breasts back into place in my bra. I analyzed the good parts of my body, the items I loved about myself, as I remembered to do from my fat camp days. Although I was yelled at one time that I’m supposed to call it a “fit camp.”

  Breasts - full and plump.

  Hips - although round and curvy, I had determined a long time ago they were appealing to most men. At least that’s what I reasoned with myself in my mind.

  Waist - tiny and finally flat after all those workouts with Aubrey.

  Sexy. I feel sexy again after taking my mini inventory and I smiled at my reflection again.

  I decided to wake Charles up with sex. What guy wouldn’t want that? Feeling sexy and confident again and ignoring my future full of “perfection,” I strutted over to Charles confidently. I climbed onto the bed, straddling him on my knees.

  I leaned over, my hair draping over his gorgeous face and began to give soft sexy kisses on his neck. He swatted at me.

  Shit. He must be really tired. I began to feel bad for possibly waking him. So I rolled next to him and laid my head on the pillow next to him, staring at his sweet face. I kicked off my heels and joined him under the covers, snuggling into his body. He immediately rolled over onto his other side, scooting slightly away from me.

  I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, pondering my future — the wife of a doctor. The wife of a perfect man was really my main thought. Everything about him seemed to be closing in on me.

  Clean is a good thing and I could deal with that. That just meant a little extra time every day to keep things in order. I should probably focus more on that before we marry and I made a mental note to do so.

  He’s the ideal image of what my parents want for me. I’d never have to hear them chastise me for my marriage choice.

  Romance. Charles could be romantic when he wanted to. It had been a while. A long while, actually. But when he did, it was nice. Wasn’t it? I tried to think back to what he did that was romantic besides the sweet way he gave me a key to his apartment. He took my car into the shop for me after he heard that squeaking noise. Was that romantic? I guess it could be considered romantic. It was something nice and unexpected that brought me joy, right?

  When he proposed he did it in front of everyone in the country club, out of the blue. Actually, it wasn’t too out of the blue because my Mom made sure I dressed properly that night and continually hinted that Charles had something very special planned. Other than an engagement, what would it have been? Taking my car into the shop again. I joked to myself and chuckled at the thought of everyone at the country club applauding for Charles that he was so sweet to have my car fixed for me.

  I searched my memory trying to come up with something romantic that he had done. A perfect guy would be perfectly romantic, right? I rolled onto my side and stared at the back of his head, since he had rolled away from me.

  Romantic. On that thought, when was the last time we had “excitement?” All couples go through this after being with someone for so long, right? I racked my brain trying to figure out if I ever felt excitement with Charles.

  It was nice when we first met, but was it exciting? No. It was everything my parents had wanted.

  I want excitement. I want romance. I want toe curling sex in the bedroom.

  Charles is safe. He knows me. He knows all my silly quirks.

  He loves me.

  Why would I chance throwing that all away to try with the next guy?

  Excitement. Lust. Fun.

  Those are the reasons people screw up their relationships. They cheat just so they can have that and keep their relationship if they don’t get caught. I could never do that to Charles. I could never cheat on him.

  Break up with him. I kept saying to myself. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Could I?

  Charles rolled towards me, facing me. I stared at him. Tears started to spill at the thought of losing someone who would be the perfect man for me. Someone my parents would always love. Someone who would always love me.

  So what was wrong with me? Was needing sex or more romance something so important in a relationship that I would toss this all away?

  Perfect brown eyes opened up slowly to stare at me. A warm smile greeted me. “Hey you,” he whispered.

  I smiled back at him, angry that I could think such thoughts of breaking up with him. “Hey,” I whispered back.

  His hand reached out to wipe my tear while a frown appeared on his gorgeous lips. “You doing alright?” He asked.

  I nodded. “Perfect. I’m perfectly fine, Charles.”

  He smiled brighter, the frown leaving as he licked his lips. I leaned over to kiss his perfect lips. He pulled back. “Hang on to that thought,” he whispered as he got up, leaving me questioning what he was doing. I was answered a second later by the faucet in the bathroom and the sound of Charles brushing his teeth.

  Spontaneity. Add that to my “less” than perfect Charles. Was I going to create a list now? God, what is wrong with me?

  He returned a second later and jumped back into bed with a handsome smile on his face. He glanced down to my breasts and his smile became brighter. His finger slid under my bra strap and he tugged, bringing it down my shoulder. His eyes flicked back to mine as he leaned in to kiss me. As soon as our tongues brushed, he pulled back and bit his lip.

  I nodded, knowing the reason. “I’ll be right back this time,” I excused myself as I got out of bed to brush my teeth. I returned a second later, resuming my same position and we began to kiss. After making out for a little while, his hand moved down my body. I tried so hard to feel something. To feel “into” him. To feel.

  Nothing. I started flipping through all the sexual positions I’ve wanted to try with him. All the things that I know he would never go for. All the things that I’ve tried to do with him that he’s shot down. Charles likes missionary, I found out quickly. My stomach started to churn as I thought about no longer being attracted to Charles.

  I wasn’t ready for him at all. He pulled his head up and ran into the bathroom. A second later he returned with a tube of lubricant. He squirted a small amount onto his finger before hopping back in bed. “You know, sometimes women have trouble during certain times of their cycle. It’s nothing to be worried about, Vanessa.”

  I gave him a meek smile as he reached between my legs to “help” me out. He slipped off my panties and then moved on top of me. I tried to let go of my anxieties, knowing I usually could work myself into the mood. I continued to think that as he pushed his way into me slowly. Charles was always very careful to make sure I wouldn’t hurt. Befor
e my thoughts could concentrate on sex scenes, I heard his familiar grunt as he collapsed on to me.

  He pulled back to look at me and his face immediately became concerned. “Did I hurt you, Vanessa?”

  I shook my head. “No. Charles, you didn’t.”

  “Then…what’s wrong? Is it almost time for your period? You’re not due for another two weeks now that I think about it.” My face must have asked the question when he went ahead and answered me. “I have it marked in my calendar just so I know your mood swings and how to interact with you.”

  “I…” I swiped at a new tear that fell and at the same time I realized he was still “inside” of me. I moved slightly making it seem as if I were uncomfortable. He immediately withdrew and ran to the bathroom. He returned to me, laying on his side, propping his hand under his head to look down at me.

  “I just.” I stopped and took a deep breath. “Charles. Are you...happy with our relationship?” I stared at him and started to bite my lip, nervous of his answer.

  “Yeah, of course I am. I think we’re on the right path. We know each other very well. You’re perfect for me.”

  There was that damn word again. God, I was never going to be able to escape it, was I? My life was doomed to achieve to be “perfect.” I could never do it for my parents. What made me think I could do it for my husband? Panic set in. My mouth became dry and I began to breathe heavily as tears flooded my eyes.

  Charles sat up. “Vanessa? Are you alright?” I sat up, staring at him. Tears flowed as I realized what I was about to do was going to change this perfect relationship.

  “Charles. I think…I think I need a break from our relationship.” I stared at him, waiting for him to say something to me.

  He ran his hand through his hair as he looked around the room nervously. His eyes landed back on mine as he frowned. “What makes you think that?” He asked me in an uncertain manner.

  Because you’re perfect. Why would that make any sense to him? It doesn’t even make any sense to me. I closed my eyes and tried to respond. “I think I’m just…” Just what? What was I going to say to Charles? I should have thought this through better.