Beautiful Illusions Duet Bundle: Eighty-One Nights and Beautiful Ever After

by Georgia Cates

  “I’m going to be out of town on business next week. Would you like to keep Ava Rose while I’m away?”

  Beth turns and looks at me, her eyes meeting mine. “We would love to keep her.”

  “All right. I’ll have one of the nannies deliver her to you on Monday morning and return for her on Friday.”

  “Thank you, Max,” Blair says. “It’s very kind of you to offer.”

  “What?” Lou says.

  “Nothing.”

  “You aren’t thinking about nothing with a wicked grin like that on your face.”

  She isn’t wrong. “I’m thinking about this pearl G-string and how you look in it.” And how I just pulled it aside and fucked you while you wore it.

  Lou did exactly as I asked. She was at my house when I came home tonight, wearing nothing but the naughty G-string when I came into the bedroom.

  And damn, she looks like pure perfection in it. But then everything about Lou is turning out to be perfect. The way we communicate, the way we interact, the way we fuck. It’s as though she was made for me.

  “I’m happy that you like it.”

  Unable to resist, I reach for my phone on the nightstand and turn on the camera, focusing on her. “You look too damn good to not have your picture taken.”

  “I’m available for you to see in person anytime you like. You don’t need a picture of me.”

  “I won’t see you while I’m away on business next week.”

  “I didn’t know that you were going away. When are you leaving?”

  “Monday.”

  She bites her bottom lip, trying to suppress a smile. “What exactly will you be doing while you look at a picture of me wearing a pearl G-string?”

  “You know exactly what I’ll be doing.”

  She places her hand over her face. “I have bed head.”

  “Aye, you do, and you still look like a real stunner.” Her messy hair will be a good reminder of the shag that we just had.

  I grab both of her wrists in one of my hands and hold them hostage over her head. “You look perfect.”

  She turns her head to the side. “Do you have any idea how vulnerable it feels to have your photo taken while you’re naked?”

  I lower my face to hers and kiss the corner of her mouth. “Relax, Lou. No one’s going to see these pictures except me.”

  “Hutch! I’m not going to let you take pictures of me like this.”

  I’m still holding her wrists above her head when I kiss her neck and whisper against her ear. “Come on, Lou. Please let me.”

  She doesn’t say no, so I nuzzle my nose down her neck and plant a kiss below her earlobe to convince her. “Please, Lou.”

  “How long will you be away?”

  “Five days.”

  “Five days,” she mutters under her breath. “And you need a picture of me to get you by, huh?”

  “Aye. Being away from you is going to be torture.” Lou feels like a hit off of the best drug that I’ve ever had. Being apart is going to be brutal.

  “You can take a few pictures but no nudes.”

  Fuck me. I didn’t think that she’d go along with it.

  She places her hand over the camera lens. “Not yet. I get to brush my hair first.”

  She goes to the bathroom and returns a few minutes later with freshly brushed hair cascading over her shoulders. She climbs onto the bed, kneeling before me. “How do you want me?”

  How do you want me? That question coming from a woman like her is every man’s fantasy.

  “Lie down.”

  She falls to her back and pulls the sheet under her arms, covering her naked breasts. “Like this?”

  “Aye but spread your hair across the pillow.”

  She rises and holds her hair away from her neck as she lowers herself against the pillow. When she releases her thick, wavy locks of chestnut, they fall in all of the right places.

  “Better?”

  “Perfect.” You have no idea how perfect.

  Plump pink lips. Her fingers touching her mouth. Smiles and grins. Solemn and sexy. I get a lot of shots of Lou lying on her back, but there’s one that I really want.

  I put my hands on her knees, spreading them apart.

  “No crotch shots.”

  “I’m not finished positioning the sheet.”

  Gathering the bedsheet between her legs, I twist it so that only a thin strip of material conceals her. I bunch the end between her breasts and take one of her arms, laying it over both breasts. She’s covered to some degree so it’s not really a nude. And she lets me take the photos.

  Damn… she looks sexy.

  I lie down beside her when I’m finished photographing her and twist to kiss her lips. “Thank you for letting me do that.”

  She picks up my phone and holds it above us. “My turn now.”

  “I can assure you that I don’t care anything about seeing pictures of myself.”

  “Very funny.” She turns it on selfie mode and adjusts the angle. “Say cheese, Hutch.”

  Photos of Lou and me in bed together aren’t wise. It would be disastrous if anyone ever saw them. But I’m confident that no one will ever see them. They’re on my phone. In my control.

  Lou thumbs through the photos. “We look like a real couple in these pictures.”

  I don’t reply. Instead, I kiss her on the neck and then the mouth. I move lower and suck her breast into my mouth. And our photo shoot is forgotten.

  15

  Caitriona Louden

  I’m settling into my role as Hutch’s companion. Tonight marks two weeks since our agreement and so far, I don’t regret it.

  He and I are beginning to establish a routine. I do as I like while he’s at work, and I’m always at his beck and call when he comes home. I don’t mind. This arrangement works for both of us. Probably better than it should.

  “I thought that we might go into the village for lunch today. I could show you around Kirkliston.”

  Hold on. Wait a minute. “I thought that we couldn’t be seen together.”

  “We can’t be seen in Edinburgh, but the village is a different story. My family, friends, and business associates have no reason to visit Kirkliston.”

  Lunch with Hutch in a public setting? “I’d love to.”

  The boyfriend experience. I might not have paid for it but it’s what I want from him.

  “Don’t get too excited. There are only three places to eat and they’re all casual. Maybe even a step below.”

  I don’t need formal or fancy. “I don’t mind casual.”

  “Your choices are Chinese, a fish and chips and burger joint, or hearty food. I believe that Americans call it comfort food.”

  I’m a southern girl. I’ll choose comfort food every time. “Hearty.”

  “I’ve eaten there a few times and I enjoyed it.”

  “What time should I be ready to go?”

  “I have some things to take care of this morning, but I should be finished by noon.”

  “All right. I’ll be ready.”

  “Sleep a wee bit longer, mo maise.” A wicked grin spreads across his face. “You’ll need your strength tonight.”

  I look at the clock and see that it’s only fifteen minutes after five. That is early by anyone’s standards. “Maybe another hour. Or two.”

  Hutch kisses my forehead. “Sleep as long as you like.”

  I hear the shower turn on and I consider leaving the bed to get inside with him. But then I remember what he said. You’ll need your strength tonight.

  He’s not kidding. Sex with Hutch isn’t for the weakhearted. Or weak-legged. The man fucks like a tempest. But he can also make love like the ocean rushing over a sandy beach. Both are beautiful and powerful at the same time.

  We make eye contact when he leaves the bathroom, and he comes over to sit next to me on the bed. He strokes his fingers across my forehead, pushing my hair away from my face. “I love having you in my bed at night, but I think that I may love seeing you in
it in the morning just as much.”

  “I love it too.”

  He leans down and places a sweet kiss against my lips. “Sleep well, Lou.”

  Lou. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to hear him call me Cait instead.

  I reach for my cell and scroll through the pictures that Hutch sent to my phone after our photo shoot. Of course, I only requested that he send the ones of us. I don’t care anything about seeing myself nearly naked.

  Thumbing through the photos, I have a thought that keeps repeating in my head—he makes it so damn easy to forget that this isn’t a real relationship.

  I put my phone away and close my eyes. When I open them again, Hutch is sitting on the bed next to me. “Time to wake up, sleepyhead.”

  I lift my head and look over at the clock. Shit, it’s almost ten o’clock.

  I strain to sit up. “I didn’t mean to sleep so long. I’ll get in the shower now.”

  “Hold on. We’ve had a bump in the road since we made plans this morning. The nanny isn’t feeling well.”

  “Mrs. McVey?”

  “Aye.”

  “I hope it’s nothing serious.”

  “I don’t think so. Sounds like some kind of stomach bug. Whatever it is, the baby can’t be exposed.”

  “No, definitely not.”

  “I’m trying to reach the other nannies about coming in to take over Mrs. McVey’s shift, but no one is answering my calls.” I hear the annoyance in his voice.

  “Don’t be irritated with them. They value their time away from work just as you value yours.”

  “I understand that, but I pay those women a lot of money to care for Ava Rose.”

  Why is he so upset? “This isn’t a big deal. We can still go to lunch and take her with us.”

  “It is a big deal, Lou. I don’t know how to take care of her.”

  “You may not, but I do. I’ll take care of her.” Heidi used me as her own personal nanny when my younger sister Lola was born.

  “Are you sure?”

  “It’ll be fine. Taking her with us changes nothing.”

  16

  Maxwell Hutcheson

  Ava Rose is strapped across the front of Lou’s body inside one of those baby-carrying sling things. I’ve seen mums in public using them but never the nannies. Not that I’ve spent that much time observing them with her, but I’m surprised that Lou found that kind of baby gear in the nursery.

  I watch the way Lou carries Ava Rose against her chest, and her tender nature baffles me. Protective. Caring. Nurturing. Those are the words that come to mind when I try to think of how to describe the way she looks. No one ever looked more like a mother than Lou does right now. And oddly, it’s not a turnoff.

  Ava Rose whimpers, and Lou rocks back and forth, patting her back through the sling. “Shh… it’s okay, baby girl.”

  A wee bit of rocking, patting, and Lou’s soft voice—that’s all it takes to soothe Ava Rose back into a peaceful slumber. Unbelievable. The baby would probably be screaming her head off if I was the one holding her.

  “What are you having to eat?” Lou says.

  “Steak and Scottish ale pie. What about you?”

  “I can’t resist the macaroni and cheese.”

  Americans love their macaroni and cheese. “I thought that you might go with that.”

  Our server comes to take our order and leans forward, peeking into the carrier at Ava Rose. Lou adjusts the baby and her sling, giving the woman a better view.

  “What a beautiful bairn. How old is she?”

  “Three months,” Lou says.

  “That was my guess. Let’s see. Who does she look like?” The waitress studies Lou for a second and then looks over at me. “I think she looks like her mum. Am I right?”

  Lou lifts a brow. “I don’t know. What do you think, Hutch?”

  “Aye, she looks very much like her mum.” Which isn’t a lie. Ava Rose is similar to Mina in many ways.

  “Then she’s a lucky lassie because she has a beautiful mum.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you ready to order?”

  We place our orders, and Lou leans across the table, lowering her voice when the waitress leaves. “It seemed rude to not thank her.”

  “Aye.”

  I don’t tell Lou, but the truth is that I don’t dislike the woman’s assumption that we are a happy husband and wife. Makes this feel even more like the real thing. I miss being a husband and I still long for a loving, faithful wife. A devoted partner in life. I may not want to be a father, but I do want to be a husband again one day.

  Ava Rose fusses again and this time the rocking, patting, and soft voice don’t soothe her. “She’s wet. I’m going to change her.”

  Lou and Ava Rose haven’t returned when our food arrives. “Steak and Scottish ale pie for you and macaroni and cheese for your wife. Can I get you anything else?”

  Your wife.

  “I don’t need anything, but will you come back and check after… my wife returns?”

  “Aye.”

  Lou and a more content Ava Rose return from the toilet. “Perfect timing.”

  “The server is going to come back and see if you need anything else.”

  “Looks good to me.”

  She picks up her fork and digs into the macaroni and cheese, her eyes widening while she releases a sexy moan. “Mmm… that is delicious. I haven’t had mac and cheese that good since I was back home.”

  Home. A reminder that she still considers the US to be her home.

  I watch Lou cradle Ava Rose with her right arm while she eats with her left. And then it strikes me. “You’re left-handed?”

  Lou smiles and swallows. “All day long.”

  “My dad and brother are left-handed.”

  “My dad is too. My mother despised that I inherited that trait from him. She tried to force me into being right-handed.” Lou holds up her left hand. “As you can see, that nonsense didn’t work.”

  That sounds like a cruel thing to do to a child.

  “Your parents didn’t get along?”

  “It wasn’t a matter of them getting along. He left her and went back to Scotland when he found out that she was pregnant with me. He said that he didn’t want a baby.”

  My news about not wanting children must have rekindled some painful memories for Lou.

  “His leaving devastated my mother; she was so in love. But things got really bad when he married Heidi and started having babies with her. She went off the deep end and started using alcohol and drugs to numb the pain. And I became a little kid who paid for the hurt he had caused her.” Lou looks down at Ava Rose. “You can’t ever do that to this child.”

  “I would never mistreat Ava Rose on account of her mother’s actions.”

  “You’re bitter about your wife’s betrayal. You’re going to be for a while yet, and that’s completely understandable. I would be too, but you can’t let the pain fester and harden your heart. And you can’t ever take it out on Ava Rose.”

  “I won’t.”

  Lou looks up at me. “Always remember this conversation, Hutch. Months from now. Years from now. When I’m gone from your life and only a distant memory in the back of your mind, remember this conversation.”

  Despite our short time together, I’m already certain that Lou will never become a distant memory in the back of my mind. “I’ll remember.”

  “And never forget how important you’re going to be in her life.”

  I nod. “I won’t.”

  I wanted a woman in my life again. A woman to warm my bed. A woman to lie beneath me. But with Lou, I feel like I got so much more, as though she was introduced into my life for a purpose greater than my own selfish needs and desires. But these are thoughts that can never find a voice. They must be kept to myself.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, I take a moment to watch Lou sleeping. Deep, even breaths with a steady rise and fall of her chest. A quiet whistle from her nostrils each time she breathes. The sheets ya
nked away from me during the night, covering her and the floor on her side. These are the things that I’ve become accustomed to with Lou, all in such a short time. And I relish it all.

  Five days without her. How will I manage? I don’t want to go a single day without seeing her.

  Crazy.

  I lean over and kiss her upper back, inducing a slight stir but not enough to wake her. I do it again and this time she makes a seductive moaning sound. It makes my dick come to life, but I don’t have time to satisfy his needs again this morning. I’m already running later than planned.

  I kiss the bare skin on her shoulder. “I’m leaving.”

  She rolls over and smiles. “Don’t go. Stay with me.”

  She has no idea how badly I wish I could stay. “I would if I had a choice.”

  “Hold on. Give me one minute in the bathroom.”

  She dashes into the bathroom and returns a moment later, still naked from our early morning goodbye sex.

  “Kiss me one more time before you go.”

  She climbs on top of me and presses her mouth to mine. I know that letting her do this isn’t good for my dick. How will I ever leave without burying myself inside of her?

  “I’m running late because we’ve already had several one-more kisses. I really have to go.”

  “I know. My fault. Sorry.”

  “I’m not sorry.” Schedule be damned.

  “Call me when you can?”

  “I will. Promise.”

  17

  Caitriona Louden

  One foot in, and then the other. I pull the black Versace dress up my body, wiggling as it glides over my hips. Reaching behind my back, I tug the zipper upward until it hits a point where it won’t rise any farther. I lower it and try again without luck.

  Shit, shit, shit. The zipper can’t be broken on this dress; I’ve never even gotten to wear it. And the thing cost a fortune.