by Alice Ward
Right then I decided I would go back to Jewel with Duk, and I would pay to see her again. That, however, wasn’t a solution to my problem, because I’d have to pay to make love to her. I didn’t think either of us were on board with that. I had to think of a way around this particular problem. Another conversation perhaps, during which I could convince her to allow me to touch her this time? I was filled with a sudden need to taste her. I took care of my own need in the shower.
As I shaved, I grumbled at the fact that I hadn’t jacked off twice in twelve hours since high school. No woman had ever affected me this way. Damn it. She was too good for Jewel and its debauchery. I needed to find a way to see her outside of the club. I’d hate for our first sexual encounter to be under the shadow of prostitution.
Yet, she’d already refused me, and I wasn’t even sure she liked me.
I was driving myself nuts and coming no closer to a solution, so I went downstairs to find Ms. White. She’d at least provide me with the sour-faced reality I needed at the moment.
I found her in the kitchen cooking lunch, which smelled heavenly. I decided to break through my usual business-like demeanor and try a more amicable approach with Ms. White and see how she responded. It was a long shot, but maybe this Butterfly woman didn’t respond to me because I was too stuffy. Pete had certainly complained about it enough times.
“What are you cooking, Martha? It smells amazing.” I sniffed the air and smiled for show.
I watched her body tense at the casual way I’d addressed her. Her eyes widened for a moment, but she gathered her wits and steadied herself again.
“Cornish game hen. I figured you’d be quite hungry, having missed breakfast.” She busied herself wiping down the marble counter with a thick black towel, keeping her eyes leveled on her work to avoid making eye contact with me.
“Right. I stayed up most of the night, couldn’t sleep at all. I think I finally passed out at seven or something. I’ve never done that.” I marveled at myself, staying up past dawn and sleeping until the afternoon.
“You needed your rest, sir.” She collected crumbs from the counter in her hand and flung it into the trash with an expert’s ease.
She didn’t look up from her work to acknowledge me. As she continued to hold herself as if I were a drill sergeant, I began to fear that my influence on women who were not particularly interested in my money was slight.
My own mother was distant, always so busy flitting from one charity event to the next that it was all I could do to schedule a conversation with her.
But, dammit, I craved attention at the moment. I needed a mothering hand, a solid shoulder, advice.
I certainly could’ve called my own mother, but I knew she would probe, and I wanted to be as vague as possible. I couldn’t very well call my mother and ask her how to gain the attention of a woman I’d prostituted last night for her company.
My parents were good people, solid and smart. And wealthy. Being such, they were on the board of this and that, and they traveled extensively. Since both had been raised sheltered in wealthy families, they’d never really had the grounded base of an average person’s reality. So even if I could bypass the awkwardness, they probably wouldn’t be able to offer much insight. They were also in their late seventies.
At thirty-two years old, my twin sister and I were the youngest of seven, four brothers and one sister, plus us. All of my brothers were significantly older than me, the eldest having just turned fifty. My twin sister and I were sort of a mistake, although no one ever talked about it that way, but we were born ten years after our nearest sibling.
Ms. White was going to have to be my impromptu therapist. I had friends, but none who were as close as my sister — god knows I couldn’t talk to her about this — and none were worth troubling with such intimate issues. Besides, Liliana was out of the country.
Having made the decision to have a heart-to-heart with Ms. White, I blurted out, “So, how do you know when a woman is interested in you?”
I closed my eyes when she expelled a small rasping cough. Maybe I was as stuffy as Pete said.
Ms. White found her voice and recovered faster than I expected. “I couldn’t say, Mr. Wellington, I’ve never been known to have any effect on a woman.” Despite her best effort to joke, her face flushed a deep scarlet red.
“No, I guess you haven’t, but when you were um… when you met your husband. Did you give him any sign that you were interested in him?” I was swimming in dangerous waters, but if the stiff-as-a-board Ms. White had fallen in love with a guy, certainly she’d know how to get to the Butterfly.
“It was a different day and age, then. My father arranged our marriage.” She slid a plate in front of me weighed down with a glistening game hen trimmed with asparagus. “What would you like to drink, sir?”
Her formality had to go. I needed human interaction, not Jeeves the butler.
“Wow, this looks wonderful.” My mouth went wet with anticipation of the excellent meal, but I held off my indulgence for a moment longer. “I’ll have a lime and soda water and just a moment more of your time.”
I watched her back tense as she turned away from me to fetch my water from the fridge. “As you wish.”
“Did you love your husband?” I asked, fearful I was overstepping a line, but it’d been years since he passed.
“I did,” she said, setting the frosty bottle of Ty Nant water in front of me.
She turned from me again to slice a small lime in half. She rimmed the juice around a tall crystal glass, squeezing the rest inside. I stared at her, hoping for more of an answer. She remained silent, twisting open the water.
“Should I not’ve asked? Is it too painful a memory?”
“Not anymore.” She carefully poured the beverage into my glass, eyeing it with laser focus. She was hiding something, to protect herself I suspected.
“You ever get lonely here?” I tried another approach.
“It’s pleasant enough.” Her eyes were still fixated on the stream of bubbling water filling my glass.
“Well, I’m lonely here. I’d love to fill this place with, you know, laughter, movie nights, dancing, kids, dirty sneakers… the way it was when Liliana and I were growing up.”
“Would you?” She looked up in surprise, as if my admission had shocked her out of her rigid persona.
Would I? It was the first I’d thought of it and it had just come tumbling out of my mouth. Did I want kids? Kids always wanted dogs. Maybe I’d get a dog.
“It’s been so long, I hardly remember,” she grumbled as if she were dead inside. She finished pouring my drink and slid it over next to the plate.
Taking that as an invitation to eat, I dove into the hen and shoved a bite into my mouth. I was much hungrier than I’d thought. “This is excellent. Are you going to have some?” I raised a heaping fork in her direction.
Her eyes flashed with distress. “No, sir, I’ve had lunch.” She’d quickly reined herself in and was a stuffy old badger flicking a towel once again.
“You’re not going to talk to me, are you?” I asked, giving up my fruitless mission.
“What would you like me to say?” She sighed, and her stiffened posture relaxed a fraction.
“I don’t know. I met a woman last night I’d really like to get to know, but she gave me the cold shoulder. I just can’t figure out why… thought maybe you’d know.” I felt remarkably uncomfortable having doffed my business-as-usual attitude and wished I hadn’t let my guard down.
Ms. White stopped her cleaning and turned to face me, taking a deep breath. “I’ve known you most of your life, Mr. Wellington, and I would suggest you try to relax. Liliana and that Peter seem to have a lot of fun, maybe they can teach you how to loosen up. God knows, I’m not the one to help you with that.”
She laughed and shook her tea towel at me like I was eight years old again, making me grin. “Help me anyway.”
“I will say, though, I know you’re a good man and when it comes to w
omen, what most want is respect. Give her a chance to impress you, don’t always be looking to run the show. Sometimes all you have to do is listen. Women, above all things, want to be heard, understood, and appreciated.” She removed her apron and smoothed out the creases on her uniform.
“Thank you for your candor, Ms. White. I’ll take your advice and do what I can with it.” I gave her a broad smile, hoping she saw the sincerity in it.
“I’m sure you will,” she said, returning the smile. “Look for the beauty inside, because a smart woman knows her beauty will fade.”
The beauty within. For the first time, I wondered if the Butterfly wore her mask to hide something she felt kept her from being beautiful.
Could I make her feel beautiful without her mask?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Adara
It was as if my own shout ripped me from the dream, and I bolted upright in bed, my heart shattering in my chest.
The sun shone through the window. It was Saturday, and late by the slant of the light. But I didn’t care. I just wanted my old life back. Or any life beside the one I now led. I missed Nate, my sweet, caring, reckless Nate. I flopped back down on the pillows and burst into tears.
And cried myself back to sleep.
Nate’s hands were cupping my cheeks. “Adara, I’m not coming back. It’s time you let go and live. What you’re doing now, it’s not living. Don’t bury yourself, you’ve so much more to live for and so much to offer.”
He moved closer and ran the back of his hand down my cheek, making me shudder. I couldn’t let him go, could never. I shook my head as a tear rolled down my cheek.
Nate’s body pressed against mine, and he bent his knees a little as he pulled me close. I could feel the heat of him, the heat of his precious breath.
“I’ll always love you, Adara. I want you to find someone who loves you like I did. Don’t run from love, you deserve it.” He dipped his head and pressed his lips to mine.
A sigh escaped as I opened to his kiss. It felt so good to have his arms around me again.
He was warm and comfortable, and as we kissed, he became more passionate, more intense. Taking control, crushing me against his hard chest and plundering my mouth with his tongue.
He’d never kissed me this way. He was Nate, and Nate was the nice guy who would never dream of kissing me until we were rife with raw, unbridled sensuality. I could hear his breathing, ragged, and it thrilled me to know I could excite him this much.
My panties grew wet with desire, and I shifted so I could rub my breasts against his chest, wanting him to do more than just kiss me.
Feeling flirty, I pulled away from our kiss for a moment to tease him. My breath seized in my throat.
Nate wasn’t standing before me with his kind blue eyes.
It was Roman.
The stage, the fans had disappeared and there was only me and Roman. Roman, with his blazing hot stare that could make me want to wiggle in my seat, stood there. His eyes were like smoldering embers, a mix of brown and yellow hues with enough fire in them to ignite us both.
When he gave me a wide smile, his face opened into a friendliness that made me want to share my burdens with him. “Don’t run from this, Adara, you deserve it.” His husky, sex-laced voice was somehow a mixture of Nate’s and his own, and it hummed through me as he leaned in and trailed kisses down my cheek, my neck.
My mask. Where was my mask?
“Stop, I… you can’t see me like this.” I pushed on his shoulder.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he gathered me to his chest and held me tightly. “Someday, I’ll make you see how beautiful you really are.”
I shook my head. I needed to… to…
His mouth on my neck was clouding my brain, making heat simmer in my abdomen.
“You don’t want me to stop,” he breathed like some kind of Latin lover in the movies, and I could feel his lips turn up into a smile.
A laugh tinkled out of me before I could stop it. Then he laid kisses over my collarbone, down my chest. I opened my mouth to tell him to stop and his lips clamped around my nipple, sucking it into his mouth. It was as if there was a string that started in his mouth and pulled tight from my nipple to my core. My toes scrunched up as his hand ran down the outer curve of my breast, over my ribs, waist, circled my hip then lifted my short skirt and covered me.
My blood rushed faster, and I knew I was panting, but I couldn’t stop myself. Everything in me wanted more pressure from his hand.
His mouth moved to my neck as he dipped his finger into my underwear and slid it slowly between my folds. Letting out a hissing “yes,” his finger found a rhythm as it skimmed across my sensitive skin.
My hips bucked, wanting his finger to go deeper, and his rock-hard cock jutted into my stomach. A moan escaped me, and I gave in to this wild feeling, wrapping my arms around his neck as I pressed my face against his hard pecs.
His finger was joined by another and together they circled my clit, spiraling mercilessly as he pressed his body closer to mine. My hips instinctively gyrated against him and his other hand gripped my ass as he stooped, pressing his erection against my mound and rutting sensuously back and forth against me.
My eyes wanted to roll into the back of my head, and I plunged my hands into his hair, gripped it as if that could keep me from unraveling into oblivion. A tingle shot up my spine as one finger found my opening and pressed inside, then pumped in and out, in sync with his hips.
“Do you still want me to stop?” he asked as he slowed his pace and angled his body even closer to mine, his thick hardness buried against my belly.
I thought about Nate’s sweet face, the way he kissed me, his lips so soft and caring. No one other than him had kissed me since that terrible day.
“Will you let me love you?” Roman whispered in my ear as he slid his tongue along the rim.
Moisture gushed from me, wetting his fingers.
He laughed. “Whatever your mouth says, I think your pussy has said it louder.”
He moved from my ear to my mouth and kissed me again. Soft, sensuous, his mouth moved against mine. When I parted my lips to tell him I couldn’t let myself have this, he nipped at mine before offering me his tongue.
Fire roared within me, the heat scrambling my brain.
“You haven’t answered me,” he scolded as he removed his fingers and lifted me against him, spreading my legs across his chiseled abs.
My whole body cried out at the loss of his fingers and my insides clenched, searching. Then he shifted me lower, positioning my entrance right at the tip of his cock. I couldn’t think, could only focus on the tip of him that would only need to move a fraction before it was inside me, stretching me. Filling the ache.
“Will you let me love you?” he asked again, resting his full length between my lips and tilting his hips up so his cock slid through my wetness and over my clit.
A sound that was half whimper half wail left me. “Yes,” I breathed. “Yes, please.”
Then I was wrapped around him as he slid into me in tiny, teasing thrusts. His mouth resumed its position, taking, giving heat.
I was at his mercy. “More.”
His fingers tightened on my ass and he growled, going still for a second as if fighting the beast within. “Promise.” He sank himself inside me to the hilt and held my hips tightly to him.
I cried out and my legs and arms tensed around him as my hips tried to buck, to let him plunge inside again, but he held me immobile.
His teeth sank into my neck, took my flesh into his mouth. When he came up for air again, he breathed, “Promise to let me love you.”
My head fell back as a wave of longing wrung through me. I’d say anything, do anything. “I promise.”
He lifted me, sliding me up his length, then slammed me down again. I met each thrust of his hips with my own as he pumped in and out of me. I could feel him grow harder, larger inside me, yet he centered on my pleasure, bending and taking first one nip
ple into his mouth then the other. He explored my body, looking for the places that made me gasp or moan.
When his cock touched a spot deep within me, a place of arousal and sensation so laced with nerves it shot explosions of pleasure through my entire body, I screamed.
His cock hit the spot again, and I sank my teeth into his shoulder to bite back another scream.
He smiled against my breast. “Ah, there it is.” Then danced his dick over that place until every muscle in my core clenched into a ball and my vision blurred. He laughed a self-satisfied laugh. “Are you ready?”
“Ready?” I panted as I dug my fingernails into his back.
He slid his tongue along the nape of my neck as he drew my body upwards, closer, melding us into almost one.
The stubble of his chin scraped my neck as I moaned in response, “Ready. Please.”
“Remember, you promised to let me love you,” he instructed as he drove his cock into me sharp and fast. Pulling my legs tighter around his waist, he locked them behind him with one arm as the other pressed me tightly to his chest.
His hips were molded to me as he jettisoned into my pussy with short, deep thrusts, his moans and growls matching mine now as I angled my hips to take more of him inside. My belly was a twisted knot of tickling heat that spiraled up to my heart and seized it hard as I exploded. My legs shook, and I quaked around him, clenching and releasing, then clenching harder, releasing longer. Heat bloomed between my legs and I flooded his cock.
“Look at me,” he rasped, his breathing stuttering, every muscle in his body flexed and straining.
I turned my face to his and our eyes met. And I was overwhelmed by pleasure, by desire, by love…
He plunged into me once more, and he roared as he filled me on a long shudder. My pussy clenched around him, squeezing until I’d drained him before his muscles went slack.
Still buried in my center, he leaned in, kissed my lips. “Don’t ever forget this,” he said sweetly as he cradled me in his arms, and I laid my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes with a contented sigh.