The Paradise Box Set

by Pike, Leslie

  When I walk out, the lighting is dimmed but only enough to create a perfect atmosphere. We like seeing the others body. Steven’s already lying back in bed waiting for me, with the sheet just to his waist. And his muscles, and tattoos, his six pack, all invitations. He watches me with such desire in his eyes as if he’s imagining me naked for the first time. I come to the bed but just stand there for a few moments.

  “You’re a work of art, woman,” he says appreciating my body.

  I drop the straps of my gown. Without another prompt, it slowly slides off my body, as smooth as a silky drape falling from a marble statue. I stand naked before him. In the soft low light my skin glistens.

  He throws back the covers revealing his hard cock. He doesn’t speak a word. I get on the bed and come to where he lies. Then I swing my leg over his body and stretch out to cover him with mine. We stay still for a moment, skin on skin, feeling the heat build.

  He touches my face. “I’ll always love you, Bliss.”

  “That’s all I’ll ever need.”

  I rise up on my palms and move back and forth, feeling his cock against me. My breasts brush against his chest and it makes my nipples peak. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me, but they close now and then, taking in the rising passion. I run my tongue across my upper lip. I can’t wait to taste him. It’s actually difficult to stop from asking him to fuck me. But I want to make this last. He moans, then flips me over so he can take control. As he pushes against me, he makes a little sound as if it almost hurts him to hold back. I love it. I want to build this till it’s impossible to hold back for one more moment.

  He slows his rhythm then moves his body inch by inch downward. Starting with my neck he kisses both sides, his tongue following the pathway to my breasts. I stretch my arms above my head as he chooses the first nipple to adore. He sucks it gently into his mouth, his full lips surrounding it and his tongue teasing it until it stands hardened. Then he moves to the other. He plays with it until I’ve got a matching set. Then he sucks harder. I swear I could come right now. With every pull I get closer. Now he’s laying kisses across my torso, around my belly button, then lower. He stops.

  “Spread your legs wider. Let me in.”

  I do as commanded. He positions himself between my legs, but gets on his knees. Reaching for the side table he plucks a perfect white feather out of the arrangement. He brings it down to my thighs, and dances it lightly across my skin. With his other hand, he reaches between my legs and finds my sweet spot. Wow. Then he lifts the feather back to my stomach and excruciatingly slowly brings it around and down to the top of my lips. He stops. My eyes are closed, but I thrust upward to encourage him to keep going.

  “Patience,” he says with his throaty sexy voice.

  He uses just the pointed tip to trace where lips meet. It’s a barely there sensation that packs a wallop. It’s like little jolts of electricity moving across my skin.

  “You like this, don’t you?” he asks.

  I don’t answer but lift my hips to him. I hear his chuckle.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  His hands touch me and softly part my lips. I feel him pull the hood back exposing my clit.

  “Ah huh,” is all he says.

  The feather teases and brings me closer still.

  “Your mouth. I want your mouth on me,” I plead.

  There’s no need to ask again. The feather goes sailing lightly across the bed. He’s off his knees, lips against my pussy. And he begins. Ohhh. He knows what to do and how to use his talents. He’s a master at going down on me. And he takes his time, allowing me to enjoy the experience. But tonight I’m surprisingly close, and it’s faster than usual. I need to stop him. My hands dig into his shoulders.

  “Steven, I’m going to come. It’s too soon,” I warn.

  He ignores my plea. Instead he sticks his tongue deep within me and lifts upward hitting something wonderful. Tears sting my eyes and I let it all go, one release after another. Throbbing in pleasure, I come all over his mouth. He’s careful to be tender now, just barely moving his tongue. Then he keeps his closed pillowed lips perfectly still over my clit, until the throbbing stops.

  I open my eyes in time to see him lift himself up and come to my side. He doesn’t skip a beat, but brings his wet lips to mine in a kiss. I taste my own juices. Then he smiles.

  “See how good you taste? See how much I liked it too?” he says bringing my hand to his cock to prove his point.

  “Let me give you something else you like,” I say.

  He leans back against the layered pillows, legs spread. My pussy responds with a pinch of arousal at the sight. A naughty smile washes over his face. Taking my place between his legs I can’t help but remember the very first time. Four hours after meeting we were fucking. Why waste time? The Weekend’s song begins. Music to blow by.

  I wrap my fingers around his shaft and glide them up and down, rotating my hand as I go. With the other hand I cup his balls. The gentlest of massage brings out a groan in him.

  “Let me have some,” I say bending down to take him in my mouth.

  A low moan escapes his lips. His cock is as hard as I’ve ever felt. Is he going to come this quickly? My eyes lift to check things out. I can always tell when he’s getting close because he squeezes his eyes shut as if he can prolong the inevitable. Right now they’re tight as a drum. He grabs me at the shoulders, takes his cock from my mouth and flips me over so he’s on top.

  “No more waiting.”

  I open my legs. He takes ahold of his cock and runs it up and down my lips just to tease me. With his mouth he feeds on my nipples.

  “Please. Now,” I plead. My voice sounds desperate.

  I’m so wet with my own juices it’s an easy coupling. And oh, this feeling. It fills me. That’s the only way to describe it. I’m full up. He starts to pump, and I know he’s going as slow as he can. But we’re afire tonight, and the timing’s out of our hands. We’re on a ride and it’s out of control. Passion and desire are in charge now.

  Chapter Fifteen

  BB

  “Tell me how I can help.”

  Paul sits there looking slightly pissed and above the fray, while the attractive blonde family therapist waits for one of us to spill our guts. We’re sitting in her small office in Los Angeles, there because I said we go or else. I figure I have him for one maybe two sessions. Then he’ll “or else” me. There’s no controlling this man, and I wouldn’t be with him if I could. He’s definitely doing this for me.

  He didn’t want to go to anyone in the general vicinity of his practice, even though they are in two different fields. And he doesn’t want me to say he’s a psychologist. I agreed to those stipulations, and he agreed to give it a try. Because we can’t get past this. I’m tired of doubting him, and he’s weary of having to defend himself. Neither of us will budge.

  “So, Doctor, it all started when Paul came home from a bachelor party with a lipstick kiss on his dick. Well, he was wearing pants, but still it was imprinted on the right spot,” I begin.

  Paul interrupts. “No, Doctor Medor, that’s not correct,” he says calmly. “It all started with a conversation we had about her acting inappropriately with the opposite sex. And the fact that we have different definitions of appropriate.”

  It’s like he’s schooling me and her on the facts of the case. Little Perry Mason.

  “Well, if you want to start at the beginning, let’s include the fact that our relationship began with a threesome. And it was after one conversation,” I say mimicking his coolness.

  Boom. Back at you, baby.

  I watch as Doctor Medor tries to hide her shock and keep the twisted facts straight. Her expression stays steady, but she has a “tell”. Her legs are crossed, but as soon as she heard the word “threesome” she started shaking her foot.

  “How is that relevant?” says Paul, not quite so calm as before.

  “It’s relevant because what we were attracted to in the beginning has become
problematic. For you that is,” I shoot back.

  “And you seem to have forgotten who I am. I’m the guy who never craves the attention of other women. Isn’t that right?”

  “Maybe you’ve changed.”

  “I haven’t changed at all. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  Doctor Medor weighs in. “Did you like the fact that BB was a little wilder than you when you met?”

  Paul smiles in memory of our beginning. “Oh yes, I did at that.”

  “So what were your expectations after you became a couple?”

  “I expected her to know, without my saying, where and when to turn on her charms. In my opinion, that place and time should be exclusively with me.”

  “What do you think of that, BB?” she asks.

  “I agree. Here’s the problem, though. What he considers turning on my charms is sometimes just my personality. Just because I say something sexy or off color to a man doesn’t mean I want to fuck him. I’ve been faithful. One hundred percent.”

  Doctor Medor looks at Paul. “Can you say the same?”

  “One hundred percent,” he says emphatically.

  “How do you explain the lipstick then? It’s not unreasonable for your partner to question something that looks like such damning evidence.”

  “I understand that. But I can’t tell you how it got there. I was passed out drunk. And that’s a rare thing. It’s not an excuse. If I was guilty, I would have come up with a better story. No, actually I wouldn’t be in the relationship at all. But there were no women at the bachelor party. My friends don’t know how the lipstick got there either. And I see the doubt in their eyes too. They most likely all think I’m hiding something. And frankly, it’s getting really old, because I’m innocent.”

  “Has Paul ever given you any other reason to doubt his fidelity?” she asks me.

  I think about it for a second but realize how clear my answer is. “Never.”

  “Then you need to consider he may be telling you the truth. I say may, because I don’t know either. I have no idea how that could happen. And I’m not certain you’ll ever know. But it’s important to come to a decision, otherwise you torture yourself and you torture Paul. If you can’t believe him without proof, then you need to realize that and move on. Or, if you can trust, then do it fully and move forward believing he hasn’t betrayed you.”

  I let her words sink in. Paul looks like he’s tired of talking about the whole thing.

  “I love you, BB. I’d never do that to you, and in your heart I think you know that.”

  “It’s not only my heart you need to convince. It’s my good sense and reasoning. I watched my mother make excuse after excuse for my father’s bad behavior. All because she loved him. Where did that get her? I’ll tell you. She’s a beaten down woman with nothing but regrets.”

  Doctor Medor doesn’t respond to my story. She’s waiting to hear what Paul says.

  “I’m not your father, and please don’t compare me with him. But I don’t know what else I can do. All I know is that I don’t want to go on like this.”

  “Oh really?” I say pissed.

  Now the doctor weighs in. She looks at me. “I think what Paul’s saying is it’s impossible for him to have a good relationship with someone who doesn’t trust or believe him. And he’s telling you when you appear to come on to other men it makes him feel like you’re saying he’s not enough. And it’s not an unreasonable assumption to think the other man would feel the same way. In that situation, it’s only you who knows the truth.”

  Then she turns to Paul. “And for BB, she’s known for having this no-holds-barred personality and sense of humor. A comedienne would find it very difficult to change the thing that’s brought her fame and validation. And as far as getting past what happened at the bachelor party, it’s difficult for her to trust a man, even one she loves, because she’s seen what blind trust can do to a woman.”

  “Well, then we’re screwed. Because I have no ability to prove my innocence,” Paul says quietly.

  “There’s always a way forward when two people really want to make it work. It seems to me there’s love here,” she says.

  “There is,” I say.

  “Definitely,” Paul adds.

  “Here’s what I’d like you to do. Take the rest of December to try to reconnect. There’s a strength that comes with love. It can conquer many things. If, and that’s the operative word, if you both believe it’s bigger than the problem. You’re an intelligent woman, BB. I don’t think you’re the kind who looks away when a man has shown you red flags. So if you choose to stay, rely on the good skills you had when you chose Paul. And Paul, think of this situation with compassion and patience. How would you be feeling if the situation were reversed? Clearly we have lots to sort out. But at least we’ve started. Let’s continue in January.”

  On the way home we’re both silently digesting Doctor Medor’s words. She kind of put things in perspective for me. So when Paul reaches out for my hand I don’t pull away. I’m not sure what I feel, but I want to touch him again, damn it. We’ve been sleeping in separate beds since that night, and there’s no denying I miss that body. Fuck me, I love the rat bastard.

  I’m so tired of trying to figure out how the imprint got there. My brain is fried. I could just try to pretend to forgive, and maybe that will push me in the right direction. Oh that’s a dangerous thought. One I’m certain my mother said a hundred times to herself. But this is different. It’s Paul. My heart and my intellect tell me the same thing. He’s a good man. His moral code is genuine. And more than that, I think it’s unbendable. So what I believe about him begins to win the battle against what my eyes saw.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  I look over at him and give him a smile. “I’m good. Do you want to move back in the bedroom tonight?”

  A shocked expression crosses his face. I’m sure he’s rethinking his reluctance to see the therapist right about now.

  “Yes. Absolutely.”

  He’s smiling, but I see something more. He’s relieved.

  “Okay. I think we should try to put this behind us. I don’t know if I can, but I’m going to try. Because like the doctor pointed out, before this incident you never gave me reason to doubt you.”

  “Good. You’re doing the right thing. I just wish I could prove it to you.”

  I lean my head back against the seat. “God, this relationship shit is hard. People make it sound like puppy dogs and rainbows, but I’ve never felt so wounded.”

  Now he looks wounded. “I hate that. I want you to be so secure about me that it is puppy dogs and rainbows. And maybe stardust and unicorns too.” He laughs a little. “We’ve got to get back there, BB. Tonight when you get home from the studios we’ll start trying to find our way.”

  And so we did. But now there’s an incessant ringing of both our cells, and it’s waking me out of this delicious sleep. Last night’s reunion lingers in my mind. What the hell time is it? I reach for my phone as Paul reaches for his. Christ, it’s dark outside.

  “It’s five fucking thirty! Who the hell’s calling us?”

  I see it’s Jack. Oh shit, what’s wrong?

  “Hello?” I say, that frog in my throat still croaking.

  “Turn on your TV.”

  “What? Why? This better be good.”

  To my left I can hear Paul’s excitement. I don’t know who he’s talking to but they just told him some good news. He picks up the remote and powers on the television. He changes the channel till he sees what he’s looking for.

  Standing at a podium are Jennifer Lawrence and Bradley Cooper. On the screen are the words Live from the Beverley Hilton Hotel There’s a stage lined with Golden Globes and a sign that says Hollywood Foreign Press hanging behind where they stand. I lose it.

  “Ohhhh shiiiit!!! What are you telling me, Jack?” I screech into my phone.

  “You just got nominated for Best Actress in a Motion Picture Drama.”

 
; I start screaming. I’m screaming all over the fucking place. I’m jumping on the bed stark naked. Paul’s taking in the whole scene while he’s still on the phone.

  “Well yeah, she just found out I’m guessing.” He holds the phone out so whoever he’s talking to can hear.

  “It’s Steven. He got nominated for Best Director and Jack for Best Actor,” he says between my screams.

  I’m still jumping.

  “Oh God! Oh God! Yay! Fucking yay!

  “What about Finn?” I hear him ask. “Oh good. No, go. You must have a hundred people trying to call you. Thanks, Steven. And congratulations.”

  They disconnect but Jack’s still talking to me. “What?” I say because my yelling has drowned out his last few sentences.

  “Best Picture. We got Best Picture drama too.”

  That tears it. Now Paul’s filming my naked recital with his cell.

  “I’ve got to go, Jack. Call you later,” I say disconnecting.

  I get ready for my faux acceptance speech. I stop the jumping and pick up my vibrator on the bedside table. It becomes my Golden Globe. I clutch it in reverence to my chest, and get very serious. Putting on my best “stick up her ass” conceited actress voice I speak to my audience.

  “I’d like to thank all the little people who helped me along the way. You know who you are. You’re encouragement and adoration have meant the world to me. And I’d also like to thank the big people. In particular my boyfriend, Paul. He’s very big. Big and long.” I give a little jump. “His daily injections of semen have had a magical effect on my career and my libido, so thank you darling. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Paul just laughs and throws back the covers. There’s the big boy now, with his two golden globes.

  * * *

  Christmas Eve has always been my favorite day of the year. This year may go down as one of the best and one of the worst. I still haven’t come down from the nomination, and I haven’t completely moved past the bachelor party fiasco. So to get it out of my mind I keep replaying the call from Jack. And that makes me want to start jumping again.