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I can’t help but laugh. My car really was a piece of shit. But it was all I could afford. “I’m not really your wife. You didn’t have to do that.”
He shrugs. That’s it. No explanation.
“How about dinner and we get to bed early. It’s a long flight,” he suggests.
“That sounds good.”
That night I can’t sleep. I stay awake, pacing. I’m reading a book I found in the living room, hoping the stress on my eyes from reading in dim light will force them closed for the rest of the night. Around midnight, there’s a light tap on the door. I put the book aside and say, “Come in.”
“I got up to get a glass of water and saw your light on. Can’t sleep?”
I shake my head. “I’m terrified of flying. I’ve never actually been on a plane before.”
He doesn’t look surprised. “I figured as much when you told me your parents died in one. You were visibly shaken when I told you we would be flying to Paris.”
“I didn’t realize I’m that transparent,” I say with a shy grin.
“You wear your heart on your sleeve,” he says pointedly.
Shit. Does this mean it’s obvious that I’m falling for him?
“Come on,” he says and reaches for my hand. He pulls me off the bed.
“Where are we going?”
“To get you to relax a bit.”
He takes me to the kitchen and pours me a glass of wine. I gulp it down. I’ve never had good wine before and find it easy to drink. Nothing like the bitterness of cheap wine that has always made drinking wine so unappealing to me.
After my glass of wine, I follow him to his room. My stomach jolts with excitement and nervousness. Sex is definitely a good way to relieve some tension. I wait for him to make a move, to start taking off my clothes or start taking off his. But he does neither. Instead he instructs me to lie on my stomach.
Okay, I like it from behind. I settle into position and wait for my panties to come off. They don’t. Only the back of my t-shirt comes up and he starts to massage my shoulders. Oh, God, yes. He has incredibly strong hands that dig deep into my muscles, relaxing every part of me. This massage is almost better than sex—actually, it’s nowhere near as good as sex with Marcus, but it’s far better than the sex I’ve had with other men.
I keep waiting for more to happen, but all he seems concerned with is working the knots out of my muscles. When he’s done, he kisses the back of my neck. “Feel better?”
“I feel amazing.”
And I do. I feel so relaxed that I might actually be able to get some sleep. I start to wonder if I should go back to my room, but then he turns the lamp off beside his bed and pulls me into a spoon position and keeps his arm around my waist.
“Goodnight, Wife,” he whispers in my ear.
I giggle and play along. “Goodnight, Husband.”
Though I’m playing along, it feels good to say that. It feels right in every way.
5
We board the private jet first thing in the morning. I’m groggy and yet, at the same time, I’m a nervous wreck. Marcus holds my hand the entire time as we walk out onto the tarmac. He pulls me close to him as we board the plane.
The plane looks like a mix between Airforce One and Marcus’s fancy high-rise. Nothing about it looks like what I thought the inside of a plane would look like. That doesn’t help the nerves, though. I know once that door closes, there’s no opening it again until we land. We are up in the air and at the mercy of the elements and the crew who put the plane together. What if someone on the assembly line was being lazy and decided he could skip a bolt or two, or what if someone wasn’t paying attention and put a damaged part in? There are so many things that could go wrong. You could have perfect weather and a skilled pilot, but all it takes is one little thing to go wrong to send this bird straight into the ground.
I shudder at the thought and feel like I’m going to throw up. Tears stream down my cheeks. I want to be brave in front of Marcus, but as soon as those engines come on, I lose it.
He tilts my chin up, forcing me to look in his eyes. “You’re going to be fine,” he says in a soothing voice. “I made sure to have my crew check every part of this plane three times before we took off. Everything is going to be okay. I’m here.”
I nod and bury my face into the crook of his arm as we lift into the air. Surprisingly, being close to him, I really do feel like everything is going to be okay.
“I have something for you,” he says. “I was going to wait to give it to you when we got to Paris, but I can’t wait any longer.”
He pulls out a velvet box. I sit back, staring at it. I know what comes in boxes like that. When he opens it, there’s a hulking diamond inside with a platinum band and a delicate braided design engraved in the metal.
I know I shouldn’t get this excited over a ring that doesn’t really mean anything, but I can’t help the pitter-pat of my heart when I see it. He pulls the ring out of the box and places it on my ring finger. It’s heavy and shiny and fits perfectly, just like the clothes had, just like he fit perfectly inside of me. Everything about us together just fits.
“It’s beautiful,” I say.
I’m crying again, but luckily I had already been crying because of my fear of flying so he wouldn’t know the difference. He has another box, and in it is a thick platinum band with the same intricate design to match my own. He puts it on, then strokes my hand with the tips of his fingers.
“It looks good on you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
I look up into his eyes and there is so much affection there. That’s when I know that I’ve really and truly fallen in love with him. When we get back from Paris, all of this will be over. He won’t be mine any longer and the thought is so unbearable it feels as though my heart will shatter into a thousand pieces.
He wipes my tears away with his thumb. “What can I do to make this easier for you?”
I take him by the hand and lead him to the bathroom. He follows without question. I close the door once we’re both inside and push him up against the wall. “Distract me,” I say, putting my hands up under his shirt and caressing the hard chest beneath.
A hungry grin spreads across his face. “Gladly.”
We slough our clothes off in a flurry of movement. Once we’re both naked, he spins me around so that my back is up against the wall, then gets down on his knees in front of me as though he were about to worship me.
He props my foot up on the top of the toilet, spreading my legs. His fingers run a simmering trail from my knee, along my inner thigh, toward my dripping wet sex. A soft moan escapes my lips. The anticipation of what’s coming has my legs shaking and I’m barely able to keep my balance. His smile widens knowing the kind of effect he has on me.
He kisses my thigh, his lips like hot coals against my skin. My entire body breaks out in goosebumps. I’m so wet that my pussy drips onto floor beneath me, leaving a dark spot on the gray carpet. He sees it then looks up at me, his eyes full of pure lust.
He runs a finger along my slit. My back arches in response. When the pad of his thumb touches my clit, I whimper.
He leans in and kisses the rounded curve of my pussy. Gentle, sweet, teasing kisses. It’s torture, waiting, but I know whatever comes next will be worth the wait.
“I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you,” he says, his words muffled against my skin. He breathes in deep, savoring my scent. He continues to kiss me. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
His words make no sense to me. He’s in the fashion industry. He sees models all the time. How could I possibly be the most beautiful woman he’s ever met? And yet when he says it, I believe it. There’s so much truth to his words that I can’t help but feel them.
His lips remain touching my skin, but he looks up with his eyes. “You’ve ruined me, Ruby Steere. No one else will ever be good enough.”
Why is he calling me Ruby Steere? I wish he knew how much that hurts me. How bad
ly I want his name to be my own. I want to tell him, but I’m afraid if I do, it will ruin everything. Right now I just want to be with him.
His mouth engulfs my pussy, tongue darting in between my folds.
“Oh, God, yes,” I cry out, taking handfuls of his hair.
His tongue does all kinds of magic tricks, plunging inside of me, disappearing. I roll my hips, humping his face. He’s making wonderful, deep sounds of approval as I force myself onto his eager mouth. Every nerve in my body screams for more.
