by Lisa Lace
“I’m sure they love you deeply. Some people find it harder than others to express that—like Connor.”
Henry pulls me toward him in a close hug. “Maybe you’re right. And some people,” he says as he runs his hands up my leg, “find it very easy to express what they feel.”
He holds his hand out to me, and I slide my fingers along his palm until my hand connects into his. I like it when he touches me, but when he holds my hand up high in the air and opens the bedroom door for me, I can’t help but wonder what he’s up to. He has made every effort in making me feel welcome, and I love him for that.
“Your boudoir, Miss.” He raises his nose to the air.
I smile at his silly antics. “Why thank you, Sir.”
He leads me to a satin ottoman and waits until I sit. I look around the room, in awe at the beauty and elegance.
“Shall I remove your foot apparel?”
I chuckle and offer him my foot. He cradles my leg in his hand, unfastening the side of my boot and sliding it off my foot. His other hand follows and massages along the arch, the tiredness dissipating at the touch of his fingertips.
“God, you’re good at that.” I let my head fall back, enjoying every moment.
He removes my other boot and massages my foot in the same manner. His hands squeeze my foot and work up over my ankle and along my calf. “You must be tense from your trip, Miss. Please, allow me to release your tension.”
His hands work through my nylons, massaging my muscles as they climb up my leg.
When I look back at him, his eyes bore down on me, his hands now on my thigh. I feel the familiar quiver he gives me when he gets close to the core of my womanhood.
“Shall I turn down your bed for you, Miss?” His voice is lower, grittier, and a hell of a lot more sensual.
“Yes.” My eyes grow heavy with lust, the feel of my heart beating harder.
“Shall I help you disrobe?”
I nod, feeling a flutter in my stomach, my legs weak with desire.
Without hesitation, he reaches his hands around my thigh and pulls at my nylons, ripping large holes in them and tearing them from my legs. I don’t even protest. He lifts me up onto my feet and pulls my skirt until it falls to my feet. He reaches up to unbutton my blouse and grabs the material, pulling it apart. The sound of the delicate material ripping gives a flutter in my chest.
A gasp escapes my throat as he pulls the material from me.
“I’m sorry, Miss. It appears that I may have ripped it.”
His fingers slide the straps of my bra down my arms, and it falls onto the soft carpet. He leans forward and sucks my nipple into his mouth, his hand cupping my pussy. He works his fingers between my lips while his teeth nip softly, sending electric jolts through me.
A knock on the door frightens me, and I try to pull away, but he pulls me to him, his mouth still feasting on my breasts.
“Henry?”
“It’s your mother,” I whisper in a panic.
“We will be down in a few minutes,” he calls out. He walks me backward until I am sitting on the ottoman again, my bare ass against the soft satin. He forces my legs apart and looks up at me.
“Can I come in?” She knocks again, a panic erupting in my stomach.
“Henry,” I whisper. “Stop.”
He shakes his head in defiance and presses his tongue against my clitoris, moving it in small circles. This awakens me, increasing my desire for him. To hell with getting caught.
“Come here,” he whispers. There is silence at the door, so I settle into his body as he takes me into his arms. “Nothing means more to me than you do at this very moment.”
He picks me up like Scarlett O’Hara in Gone with the Wind and carries me to the bed, where I sink deep into the downy bedding.
I remove my underwear as he climbs onto the bed, hovering over me, still fully dressed. The feel of his clothing against my naked body arouses me. He moves his hands between us, and within a few moments, I feel his cock between my legs.
I open myself to him and hold my breath, feeling the pressure of him pushing against my opening. He penetrates me and fucks me slowly.
“Is this satisfactory? Do you like this, Miss?”
“Yes,” I say, heaving breath after breath from my lungs.
We make love for almost an hour, and when he comes inside me, I curl myself up next to him, wanting to crawl inside him and stay.
Henry
It’s Christmas Eve. Things have been tense at the estate since I lost my cool at dinner, but everyone is being civil to make it through the festive formalities.
I get dressed in my black suit and tie ready for dinner. It’s a tradition in our family to dress formally for dinner on both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. It’s not as fun as making shoebox floats.
I’m trying to slip my cufflinks into place when Melissa steps from the en-suite bathroom. I sit up, and the sight of her takes my breath away. She looks flawless in a floor-length blue silk gown with an off-shoulder sweetheart neckline and a crystal drop necklace. She’s styled her hair in a simple yet sophisticated updo, and carefully applied her makeup to give her a natural, yet faultless complexion.
She steps into my bedroom shyly, brushing down the silk of her dress. She looks up at me from under her eyelashes, biting down on her lip. “Is it too much?”
“You look sensational.”
“Olivia let me borrow it.” Melissa comes over to me and takes the cufflinks from my hands as I struggle to thread them through the holes in my sleeves. “She’s a sweetheart. She told me not to worry about your parents. She says they’re hard work.”
“She’s right. It has nothing to do with you. Their values are antiquated and bigoted. If you don’t fall into their idealized preconstructed notion of human perfection, then they’ll never warm to you. Their own son included.”
Melissa clips my cufflinks into place then reaches up to turn down the starched collar of my shirt. “It would be a shame if that were true—because their son is my idea of human perfection.”
I step forward and kiss her. My feelings for Melissa are incomparable to the love I’ve ever felt for anyone before. After years of striving to be noticed, I’ve found someone who truly sees me.
“Have I told you I’m really glad you’re here?”
“Only every day since we arrived.” She smiles and stands on her tiptoes to kiss me again. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”
Today we took the train to London, and I took Melissa ice skating at Hyde Park, then shopping on Oxford Street. Finally, we’ve returned for another uncomfortable dinner with my family.
“Are you ready for another delightful family dinner?”
“It’s a fair trade. You did confront a bunch of drug addicts at my apartment, after all. Families, hey?”
“Who’d have them?”
For two people who were raised worlds apart, Melissa and I have more in common than I’d ever have imagined.
We finish getting ready, and I offer Melissa my arm. She takes it, and we walk together toward the dining room. Melissa moves with as much grace as a princess. I’m in awe of her sophistication and poise.
“You really do look beautiful,” I tell her as we reach the dining room. “I’m honored to have the pleasure of being with you this evening.”
Melissa’s lips curve into an affectionate smile. “You really are my Mr. Darcy, aren’t you?”
“Does that make you my Bridget Jones?”
She laughs. “I was thinking of Pride and Prejudice Mr. Darcy, but okay! I hope I’m no Bridget Jones. Although I do keep making a tit of myself in front of your family.”
“Nice Britishism.”
“Cheers.”
“There you go again. I love the way it sounds when you try British slang. You’re adorable, you know that?”
We’re laughing as we walk down the hall, and even when we enter into the grand, ornate dining hall with its huge oak table and intimidating portraits hanging from the paneled wa
lls, our smiles remain.
No matter what my family might throw at us, I know we’re facing them together.
Olivia’s eyes light up when she sees Melissa, and she reaches across the table to excitedly squeeze her hand as we take our seats. “Lissy! You look wonderful.” She nudges Alexander meaningfully. “Doesn’t she look wonderful?”
“You really do,” Alexander agrees. “I’m glad we didn’t turn you away from another dinner. It’s good to see Henry so happy.”
We hold our conversation away from my parents, but soon, they make their presence known.
“My son has advised I offer our apologies for our last dinner together,” my mother states stiffly, looking across at me reluctantly. “I’m sorry if we made you feel unwelcome. Our comments were not intended to cause offense.”
“Of course,” Melissa says gracefully. “I apologize if I came across as ungrateful for your hospitality.”
“I suppose you’re not used to dining like this,” Mother continues. I cringe as she gestures around meaningfully. She’s completely clueless about how condescending she appears. That makes it so much worse. “Henry always tried to convince us to eat in the living room with our food on our laps!” She scoffs contemptuously. “‘Eats on seats,’ he called it.”
“That’s shocking,” Melissa says. Her voice is deadpan, almost sincere. If I didn’t know her as well as I do, I’d think she was genuinely agreeing, rather than offering a private joke meant for me. She shoots me a sideways glance, and I see a hint of a playful smirk on her lips.
“Once, he even suggested we bring home McDonald’s and eat it on the floor picnic style! He wanted to watch some terrible knights movie.”
“It was Lord of the Rings, Mum,” Henry says.
“Lord of the Rings?” Melissa repeats. She shakes her head and tuts. “And McDonald’s? What were you thinking, Henry?”
“I was young. I’ve since regretted being so grossly informal.”
Alexander sniggers from behind his napkin. Olivia is smirking. Their giggling is enough to make my parents realize we’re making fun.
“I’d have thought after the little lecture you gave us about respect, Henry, you’d perhaps show a little more yourself,” my father states. “After all, we’ve been civil to this week’s girlfriend.”
I open my mouth to retort, but Melissa gives me a look that tells me to let it go. Instead, she smiles. “This food is delicious.”
Just like that, the moment passes, although I still feel the tension in my muscles and a strain in my jaw from working so hard to hold my tongue.
“The food here is always incredible,” Olivia says. “Irene’s daughter cooks. She’s a genius. You just have to taste the hot cross buns she does at Easter. Sublime.”
My father scoffs. “I doubt Melissa will be around come Easter. Henry’s flings don’t tend to last that long.” He turns to her. “What about you, Melissa? Do you have a colorful love life?”
“Actually, Henry is my first serious relationship,” she says. “Before him, it was a string of endless, meaningless orgies.”
My eyes widen. I can’t believe those words came out of Melissa’s mouth in front of my family. I roar with laughter, slapping my knee in delight. Finally, someone with a sense of humor at the family table. Never leave.
Unimpressed, my father frowns. “It’s all a joke now, but you’ll learn soon enough how highly Henry respects women, no matter what he has you believing now. Ask Alexander—it was his wedding Henry ruined.”
Alexander holds up his hands. “I won’t get involved.”
“‘Ruin’ is a strong word,” Olivia says diplomatically. “Everyone still had a lovely time.”
“Please,” Melissa says quickly, “it was only a joke. In poor taste, perhaps. But then again, you’ll have to forgive me. I’m not used to dining like this.” She gestures around emphatically, making deliberate eye contact with my mother.
This time, Alexander jumps in to save the conversation, turning promptly to our father. “When will I get a glimpse at Towley’s designs? You keep teasing us all with speculations of how great it’s going to be, but we’ve yet to see the groundwork.”
My father and brother start talking animatedly about business, and the sniping comes to an end. I turn to Melissa and grin conspiratorially.
There she goes again—an academic, a substitute parent, a party girl, a secret lover of glitter, and now a comedienne. Melissa will never stop surprising me.
After dinner, my father pulls me aside and asks if he can speak to me in his study. My stomach instantly sinks, but I do as he asks.
Once in his lair, my father crosses his arms over his chest with a sour expression. “That was quite something, Henry. What’s this really all about? Did you bring that girl home to spite me? To prove that you can find bad company no matter where I send you?”
“She’s not bad company. Melissa is an incredible woman.”
My father holds up his hand wearily to stop my protest. “Enough. It doesn’t matter. I’m willing to forget about this whole fiasco. If you want to sleep with little Miss Eliza Doolittle out there, then that’s up to you. All I care about is that you continue to keep your head down and maintain your GPA.”
He prowls his office slowly. “I’ve had good feedback from your tutors. You’re getting the grades. You’ve had no disciplinaries. I’ve been pleased. Until you brought that girl home, I had no reason to doubt you weren’t making some real changes.”
“I’ve told you, Melissa’s—”
“—An absolute angel, I know, I know. Be careful with her, Henry. I don’t trust her.”
“What?”
“She’s vague. Girls like that will pull on your heartstrings with sob stories about being poor little orphans with the world on their shoulders, but for all you know, she’s looking for a sugar daddy, and you’re a young, handsome British man from a good family. Girls like that are looking for a wealthy man to sink their claws into. Don’t let a pretty face blind you to her games.”
“You’re a cynic. Not everybody’s life revolves around money, Father. Melissa is genuine. She genuinely cares about me, and I, her.”
My father holds up his hands. “As I said, it’s no concern of mine. Date the girl. But keep your head down, and don’t get into trouble.
“I’m starting to believe you might actually make something of yourself if your grades are anything to go by. Your professors like you. You seem to be fitting in as a Harvard man. Let me sweeten the deal for you. You keep up the good work, and I will not only continue to support you, but I will hand you the deed to your flat myself. It’s yours. What’s more, I’ll hand you the keys to your first property portfolio and put you in touch with my team. You’ll be able to make a million in year one.”
Six months ago, I’d have thought it was the deal of a lifetime, but now it makes me feel dirty. I turn away from my father. “I’m going to go back to Melissa before Mother rips her apart anymore.”
“As you wish. Remember what I’ve said, Henry. Do well, and I’ll pave the way for you toward a successful and prosperous future.”
Melissa
I wake up on Christmas morning beside Henry. The first thing I do is pick up my cell from the bedside table and check to see if I have any messages from Connor. I’ve tried to call him daily since I’ve been in England, but he doesn’t answer. I’m sure he’s still mad at me, but it still makes my stomach churn with worry.
We’re five hours ahead of Massachusetts, but I send him a message anyway. Merry Christmas, Connor. Thinking of you. Don’t forget the presents are under the tree. I can Skype you today if you like. I love you xx
I place the cell down, then roll back toward Henry, wrapping my arms around him. His body is warm and firm. Henry instinctively tightens his arms around me when I snuggle against him, and I feel his cheeks lifting in a smile before I look up and see him grinning.
“Merry Christmas.”
I smile. “Merry Christmas.”
Henry ki
sses me. “I was having a dream about you.”
“You were?”
“We were having Christmas dinner; me, Alexander, Olivia, and my parents. Irene’s daughter brought out this giant Christmas pudding. Then, just as my father went to cut into it, you popped out and gave him the middle finger. You were completely naked.”
I laugh out loud. “Are you serious?”
“I am indeed. Do you think my subconscious is trying to tell you something?”
“That I’m ruining your family’s Christmas?”
Henry chuckles. “It was a good dream. I’ve woken up feeling like I want to hold you close and never let you go—you rebellious little homewrecker, you.”
“You McDonald’s-munching, eats-in-seats heathen.”
We both start laughing. What started as an excruciatingly awkward situation with Henry’s parents has ultimately served to bring us closer together. It’s us against the world.
“So, what does Christmas day look like in the Southby household?”
“We start by sacrificing one of the town’s poor to the gods of etiquette, then serve a roast of ostrich stuffed with goose stuffed with chicken stuffed with a blackbird stuffed with a quail. When dinner is done, we strike the giant gong, then commence the annual counting of our gold.”
“Wow. Sounds like a wonderful day.”
“We really like to get into the spirit of things at the Southby estate.”
I burst into giggles and straddle Henry so I can kiss him all over his face. He rests his hands on my hips and looks up at me with utter devotion.
“Should I worry about any of your hundreds and hundreds of former lovers jumping out of the Christmas pudding today?”
Henry sits up, and his expression grows serious. “I’m sorry they said those things to you. I want you to know I would never disrespect you, and I’m not going to use you, then throw you away. You’re about the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t want to ever lose you. You’re precious to me.”
I lean forward and kiss his lips softly. “I know that, you plonker. You’re precious to me, too.”
