by Rebecca Foxx
"Stop being pessimistic, stop worrying; give yourself the chance to believe in my feelings. Do not be afraid of them, just approach tenderly and take care of them, please..." said Jean.
She thought he must be reading her mind. Maybe her mind was transparent and he just had no trouble to look inside her soul and see clearly her fears.
"I will," she whispered with an innocent young girl's smile. "I will trust you. I hope you will never give me a reason to feel cheated."
However, when she uttered those words, he became pale.
"What happened?" asked Stephanie.
Jean stood and jumped to sit next to her. He put his finger on her lips to make her hush. Then slowly slipping his hand on her head, he kissed her lips tenderly. He felt her scent to stick on his nerves, on his veins, on his skin and cover him from head to toe with waves of excitement.
After heart-to-heart conversation, hot kiss and fine supper they shared, they also shared bed in the room of a hotel that offered the unique dining experience. Jean was on his knees in front of her. He could feel the warmth of her thighs so close to his head. He put his head on her knees and kissed them with wet tender kisses. She felt passions to obsess her, her big feminine body.
Stephanie left her fears go, dissolve in the way a piece of ice would melt in a hot room. What was left was the steam that covered the window glasses to keep their lovemaking private. Jean found that there was something else that he was going to adore all his life besides the sounds of mad ocean sweeping the shore, Stephanie's voice when she was talking wise about his fears; from now and then he was going to adore her moaning as well, sweeter than anything in the world for his ears...
Part 4 - White lies, blue skies
Their morning was not proceeded by sleepy night. Stephanie and Jean spent their night making love, drinking champagne, eating some fresh strawberries, and discussing their philosophical views around different things in the world. The more he knew her open mind and deep soul, the more he was attracted to her magnificent charms. Stephanie was the woman he never wanted to let go.
She provoked his mind with the wise questions and uncommon set of mind that found interesting alternative answers to his questions. It was a perfect union of similar curious minds and high level of chemistry. Their smells and tastes, their colors of skin seemed to complement each other in the most unbelievable way.
When the breakfast was served and Jean was helping Stephanie to zip her white satin dress, he looked at her in the mirror.
"I could eliminate your fear concerning to your past disappointments. I want us to break another rule that perhaps makes us slaves, "he said.
"What do you mean, Jean?" asked Stephanie who did not stop getting surprised by his words and actions. She thought that life with him would never be boring. He would keep surprising her with the most unusual things.
"We are slaves of our jobs," said Jean.
"I love my job, I am not one." disagreed Stephanie.
"That is what I love in you. You do not agree like a puppet as most women. And when you choose to disagree, you do that wisely," he smiled.
"Come on, you already convince me," she laughed. Her laughter was genuine, something precious that she had not experienced for a very long time.
"I know it may create problems for you at work. However, I ask you to trust me and leave Paris for a day. Miss your meeting today. Maybe Maria will help us once more," he asked.
"To leave Paris? To leave for what? What's on your mind, Jean? You never stop surprising me!" cried Stephanie confused.
"Trust me," he said briefly with a begging gaze.
"I would risk my career," she said.
"Do not worry; everything is going to be great."
"Where do you want us to go?" asked Stephanie whose mind was curiously looking for sensible reasons."
"We will leave for Spain. We will visit museums in Spain. Have you been to Spain? Have you ever seen The Guggenheim Museum Bilbao? Stephanie, we should not miss the boat! This is time us to belong ourselves just once in life!"
"I cannot risk my job even if I burn from desire to be there. Oh Jean, I have dreamt about it," she said."But we can do that later."
"There is no later in true art of living. Carpe Diem. Enjoy the moment!" said Jean with enthusiasm.
"Okey," declared Stephanie, and that short 4-letter word encouraged him.
Her excitement and thoughts about having a crazy holiday, but, most of all, spending time with a man who had stolen her heart and her clear judgment, a man whose gaze gave her waves of passions all over her body and soul, convinced her that she should follow him.
Stephanie expected them to leave for Spain by plane for a fast trip, not by train, of course. Otherwise, he would not ask her about a single naughty day. She looked at him and felt how she was losing her head for him more and more. Yes, she did not expect train, but she did not expect a jet plane too. She was standing there on the vast ground confused.
The private jet plane was definitely the most luxurious and expensive toy for billionaires! How could he afford that being a simple man from a middle class, working as a tour guide in a museum? The suspicions were rising from her worried mind, as the jet plane was penetrating blue skies.
The interior of jet plane was probably one of the most marvelous things she had seen in her life. It was all white and shining like the glasses full of champagne. When he kissed her forehead, she felt that it was time him to be sincere with her. And the necessary words were not late.
"You should know something," he said with trembling voice.
"I am not a tour guide working in a museum. I am a French billionaire in his late thirties. You are not alone in your disappointment; I have also been betrayed by the person I loved. She was the woman I was going to marry, but soon I found that she only wanted to marry my fortune. She was secretly dating another man, her ex-boyfriend, and they had horrible plan to kill me when we would marry. I found out it on time, just 2 weeks before our wedding, which was planned to be the most luxurious wedding in Paris," said Jean.
Stephanie was listening to him with sympathy and pain. She believed him. His past wounds were clearly expressed on his face and in tones of his excited voice.
"All this story happened three years ago, and I decided to meet the woman who would love me for my character, for what I am, not my bank account. Stephanie, I did not plan to meet you in museum. I was there to enjoy my time as I very often do. Besides, I have passion for art. I have been collecting paintings for years. So I decided to lie, I would never do that if it would cause you harm. I intended to keep this secret for a longer time, but I know that it is wrong. You have suffered, and I do not want you to lose your belief in the world and good people for the second time. You have the right to know who I am. Just know that I am the same simple man only zeros are a bit more on my bank account than you thought."
Stephanie was silent. Then she said with a mild smile, "Thank you for not being the second greatest disappointment in my life. I would not have so much strength to recover again."
Jean kissed and hugged her. Through the strength of his arms, she felt how he had been afraid to lose her, to lose her trust. He thanked her for being this kind to her faults.
When the jet plane landed, they could see the vast land shining under Spanish sun. They did not know yet, that many years later they would come back here again as spouses, to enjoy their passions for life, truth and love.
They entered the fantastic Guggenheim Museum Bilbao that was full of aesthetic pleasures.
"It is sad; I have missed my wonderful tour guide named Jean. You know he was so kind in Musée d'Orsay, I wish he was here," joked Stephanie who felt herself like a little spoiled child, something many women wish to be when there is a strong male shoulder they can lean on.
"You won't have to miss him, dear, he is here now," said Jean crazily kissing her laughing lips.
THE END
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Good Knight Kiss
Chapter One
“Sandra! Where have you been, lady? I feel like I’ve been waiting for you for years.”
“I know, I know, I just got caught up, that’s all.”
“You’re always saying that and yet I still have no idea what that is supposed to mean. What is it exactly that you spend all of your time doing that causes you to get so ‘caught up?”
Sandra looked at her friend Delia with an apologetic smile.
How exactly was she supposed to answer a question like that? She didn’t like to even think about it. It made her feel like whatever it was she was supposed to be doing, she was failing miserably. The thing about Sandra was that she had never been one of those people for whom everything just fell into place. She knew those kind of people.
Her sister was that kind of person. Delia was definitely that kind of person and it was a quality she deeply wished she had, but as it turned out, she just didn’t. She had tried time and again but she was never going to be the kind of girl who could wear white without spilling something atrocious all down her front within the first hour of getting dressed, nor was she going to be that girl who was always fifteen minutes early to a meeting just to be on the safe side.
She was the girl who always needed to clean out her car and for whom there was a good chance that whatever important document she needed, she had forgotten it some place else. Adding on top of that the fact that she was still trying to finish school and worked two not so great part time jobs, and she had a lot going on; a lot of irons in the fire, so to speak. So what was it that always caused her to get so caught up?
“I don’t know,” she said sheepishly, “I guess it’s different things at different times.”
“You just need to get yourself organized, sweetie. That would like, totally change your life. Maybe you could even quit on of those god awful jobs! Although it would be better if you could quit both. If I had to choose which of the two was worse I have no idea what I would say.”
“I can’t just quit my job, Delia. Either of them.”
“Well why the hell not?”
“Because I need them. For money. You know, that thing that buys you food and keeps you from getting evicted from your crappy little apartment?”
“Ugh, but seriously. Does it have to be those jobs? They’re the worst! Especially the restaurant.”
“It’s not so bad” Sandra responded quietly, trying as always to make the best out of things.
“Not so bad? Your boss is a complete pig! He hits on you ALL of the time and I am pretty much positive that you could sue him for sexual harassment. How is that not so bad?”
“Ok, so it isn’t great, but I can’t quit. Not until I get myself to a more stable place. Which I need to finish school for, which requires a place to live and food to eat, which means I need the jobs. See how this works?”
“I guess so. It’s just that sometimes I feel like your Cinderella slaving away only there aren’t many Prince Charmings left to come to your rescue.”
“That’s ok. I don’t know if Prince charming would really go for me, anyway.”
“Are you kidding me? Your one of the most beautiful girls I know! How you don’t have a boyfriend, or like five of them, is beyond me.”
Sandra could feel herself blushing and looked down quickly to the drink Delia had ordered for her before she even arrived. Although it made her uncomfortable to hear, it wasn’t the first time someone had said something like that to her.
Actually, she had heard it all of her life, and heard it often. Sandra had deep blue eyes the color of the kind of ocean water most people only ever got to see on the front of a postcard and milky skin that appeared to have been undamaged by the sun. Her hair was a thick, rich mahogany that fell well below her shoulders.
Those were the things that women most often noticed about her, but it was other things men were most likely to comment on. Because along with all of those striking attributes, Sandra had the kind of body that could leave a man completely speechless and thinking he had made her up entirely once she was gone.
Let’s just say there was nothing about her that was even remotely reminiscent of those stick thin models that so often graced the runways. She was thick, with hips a man could grab onto and thighs he could dream about having wrapped around him, breasts that made a man lose his breath entirely. She was a bigger girl, but she was a girl that almost every man she had ever met wanted desperately.
All of her friends knew it. They talked about it and about how it was wasted on her, seeing as she didn’t seem to notice; either that or she just didn’t care all that much. It was a source of some amount of aggravation, seeing as none of the rest of them had looks that grabbed nearly the kind of attention as hers did.
“Anyways,” Sandra said with a face that was still hot, “enough talking about me. Let’s talk about you, ok? What’ve you been up to? It sounded like you were super desperate to meet up tonight. What’s going on? Everything ok with you?”
“Oh god, don’t even get me started.”
“Is it David again?”
“Of course it’s David again. What else could it be? He’s pretty much the bane of my existence. Honest to god, I wish I had never met him. He has been a waste of the last eight months.”
“So did you guys break up?”
“You bet your ass we did. Kicked him to the curb, just like I should have done right at the very beginning. So you know what that means, don’t you?”
“Um, no?”
“Sure you do! It means we’re both single at the same time! That pretty much never happens.”
“Right, because you have a new guy every other week.”
“Just like you should. That’s what we should do tonight. We should focus on getting you to lighten up with guys. If you could just get out of your own head for two seconds I bet you could have a pretty fantastic time.”
“That’s ok. I don’t really want to.”
“I know,” Delia said with a devious smile, “that’s why it’s so important that we do it.”
“What? No! Come on, please, don’t make me. Let’s just sit here and drink and relax. Wasn’t that the point of this?”
“It was. Now the point has changed, my dear. You’re just going to have to roll with the punches.”
“But I don’t want to. I plead no punches, ok? Let’s just relax.”
“I have a better idea. Let’s just take some shots. Riley!”
The admittedly gorgeous man tending bar approached the two of them with a smile. Delia liked to refer to him as their bartender, no matter how many times Sandra pointed out that he might not enjoy being spoken of like he belonged to his patrons. Delia didn’t listen, of course.
She was never one for taking direction and as Riley made his way in front of him she gave him her best flirtatious grin, batting her lashes in a way that made Sandra roll her eyes. Delia certainly didn’t need help with men, that was for sure. She turned to Sandra and gave her a little wink before turning back to Riley.
“Hey there mister, it seems that the two of us are in need of your services.”
“Excellent. What can I do for you?”
“Shots. Something that she won’t wuss out on, but also something that will provide a little bit of liquid courage.”
“Got it.”
He took a shaker in one hand and several bottles she couldn’t read the labels of nd whipping up something frothy and pink in no time at all. Sandra wasn’t much of a shot person, but it looked like this was happening. She reluctantly clinked glasses with Delia and drank the liquid down, surprised that it tasted as good as it did.
“Ok, so here’s the plan.”
“The plan? You have more of a plan than this?”
“Than shots?” she said with a scoff, “please, do you know me at all? The plan is, you have to kiss the first guy who walks through that door, no arguments, no chickening out.”
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“Are you for real? What on god’s green earth makes you think that I would ever do a thing like that?”
She didn’t answer, just turned back towards the bar and waved for Riley to come back over. Sandra groaned inwardly and shook her head. This was going to be a long, long night.
“Riley, we’re going to need some more shots over here.”
Chapter Two
When Edward woke up this morning, this dirty little hovel of a bar with the stale smell and the old cigarette butts littering the floor was the last place he expected to wind up. Come to think of it, he had never been in a place like this, not even close. He may have seen something similar in a movie once or twice, but even that seemed a bit farfetched. In short, dive bars, no, dive anything, were not something he had been exposed to.