High Society Secrets

by Karen Booth

  He shifted above her, lowering his head and kissing her deeply, then moving to her jaw, her slender throat, and then kissed the tender undersides of her breasts, coaxing breaths out of her. He traveled down her, milling with his lips, the kisses becoming deeper and longer. She sucked in a sharp breath when he palmed her thighs and spread her legs wide. Then he kissed her apex and he seized control again, exploring her most delicate places with his tongue and lips. He knew what he was doing, but he still loved hearing her reaction to it, the way her breaths stopped and started.

  Her hips bucked off the bed as his tongue traveled in circles. She dug her hands into his hair. “That feels so amazing, but I need you. Right now. I need you to make love to me.”

  He took a few more passes, just enough to show her how dedicated he was to making sure she enjoyed this, then he pressed his lips against her lower stomach. “Do you have a condom?”

  She nodded. “I do. In the drawer of the bedside table.”

  He found the box, which was unopened, and removed one of the foil packets.

  “Let me do it,” she said, scooting to the edge of the bed.

  “Please. Be my guest.” He handed it over, standing before her, the tension in his hips and groin almost impossible to take.

  She wrapped her fingers around his length and stroked firmly, looking up at him, her gaze locked on his. Heat didn’t merely plume in his belly, it roared, spreading to his hips and down his thighs. He couldn’t imagine her doing anything more pleasing, but then she switched to a lighter touch, her delicate fingers slow and teasing, and that made his need for her even deeper. He wasn’t sure how many more passes he could take, but she finally rolled on the condom and he gathered himself.

  He lowered his head, cupped the side of her face, and drew her into a deep kiss. He wanted to drink in her very being, and it felt as if she was doing the same to him, relishing every heavenly sensation of the other’s touch. She eased herself to her back and he positioned himself at her entrance, driving inside. The moment was intense. As his heart thundered in his chest, he struggled to comprehend her warmth, and the way her body held on to him so tightly.

  He went deeper and their bodies were fully joined. He inhaled her sweet scent and nestled his face in her neck while she wrapped her legs around him and muscled him closer with the backs of her calves. She tilted her hips with every stroke, meeting him when he was deepest. She seemed to want a faster pace, and so he made small but powerful thrusts, keeping their bodies as close as possible.

  He was teetering on the edge of release, his breaths so shallow he couldn’t fill his lungs. Hers were coming hard and fast, her lips parted and eyes closed as she seemed lost in the dreaminess of pleasure. He wanted those lips on his when she gave way. He wanted to feel every second of her vulnerability.

  She gasped and clutched at the sheets. He realized just how close she was to release. “Kiss me,” he said. He lowered his head and she raised hers, the kiss reckless and perfect. She bucked her hips against him and he thrust deeper, closing his eyes to feel just how tightly wound she was around him. He couldn’t take much more, but he would do his damnedest to wait for her. With a sudden shock, she knocked back her head and arched her spine, and that was his cue to give in to the pleasure. He wasn’t sure which way was up and which was down. His head spun fast and hard. Then he went into free fall, floating down to earth in a haze of deep satisfaction.

  He collapsed next to her and she instantly curled into him. Their breaths slowed, falling into synchrony. She caressed the side of his face, sweetly rubbing her nose against his cheek and chin. Their lips connected, soft and warm, and he could feel the smile in her kiss. He couldn’t think of another place he wanted to be. And he couldn’t believe that it had taken him days to think about whether or not Astrid might be a good idea. She was better than that. She might be the miracle he hadn’t known he was waiting for.

  He dared to look at the clock. “We have twenty-five minutes before your guests arrive.”

  She groaned adorably and propped herself up on her elbow, dragging her fingers through his chest hair. “Whose idea was it to have a party anyway?”

  He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “I think it was yours.” He didn’t want to move a muscle, but he knew that the sooner he resigned himself to their social obligation for the evening, the better. “Come on. I think we’ll live.”

  They both climbed off the bed and he padded into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. After washing his hands, he found his clothes and attempted to shake out the wrinkles that might be difficult to explain, especially to his sister, who did not miss many things. Not that he cared much at this point.

  Astrid was in her closet as soon as he was dressed. She was working her way into a pair of heels, sexy, mussed hair cascading past her shoulders. He couldn’t resist the chance to step behind her, grasp her shoulders and kiss her on the cheek.

  “Does this look okay?” she asked, turning to face him.

  “You would look good in a paper bag, but yes. You look amazing.” He kissed her on the lips. “I wish I could stay over, but I stupidly told the babysitter that I would be home before midnight.” As soon as the words had left his lips, he realized the presumption he was making. “I mean, not that you were inviting me or anything.”

  She laughed quietly and grabbed a pair of earrings from a large drawer of jewelry. “I would love for you to stay, but I understand. Plus, I think that you and I would do well to take things slowly.” She gestured with a nod to her bedroom. “That was amazing, and I can see how it could quickly become addictive, but you and I will need to rebuild some trust.”

  “Trust is immensely important.”

  “Good. Now let’s go get ready for everyone to arrive.”

  They started in the kitchen, Clay in charge of setting up the bar while Astrid preheated the oven to pop in some appetizers. It’d been a long time since he’d done something so domestic like this with a woman other than his sister, and he was pleased to realize that this wasn’t putting him on edge. Astrid’s comment about rebuilding trust had done so much to reassure him that opening himself up to her might be the best decision he’d made in a long time.

  Promptly at six thirty, Tara, and Grant arrived, followed shortly by Miranda’s best friends from her office, Brittney and Shay. Clay was busy serving drinks when Miranda showed up. He dropped his party duty to help her with her coat.

  “You told me this started at five,” he muttered, kissing her on the cheek.

  “Did I? That’s weird. I guess it’s just pregnancy brain. That’s a thing, you know.” Miranda was an expert at covering her tracks, but Clay could see through it by now. Apparently she really did want him to give Astrid a chance.

  “Come on,” he said. “Astrid bought all sorts of pregnancy-approved drinks.”

  Everyone congregated in the living room of Astrid’s apartment while she and Clay shuttled out food. This was the exact right size for a party as far as Clay was concerned, and he also liked that everyone was so focused on discussing the baby. He knew very well that Miranda would have a big hill to climb as a single parent. A support system would be a big help. He hadn’t allowed himself anyone’s help with Delia, aside from Miranda’s. He knew his sister wouldn’t be so foolish.

  “Any wagers on whether it’s going to be a boy or a girl?” Grant asked, holding hands with Tara on the couch.

  “I think girl,” Tara answered.

  Grant shook his head. “No way. It’s a boy.”

  “We will find out soon enough,” Astrid said. “But first, I have a gift for Miranda.”

  “Astrid,” Miranda pled. “We said no gifts tonight.”

  Astrid shrugged it off playfully. “I’m not good at following the rules. We’ll be right back.” She waved Clay in the direction of her bedroom. Together, they picked up the stroller and carried it into the living room. Of course, the instant every
one saw it, there was an roar of laughter. The wrapping job had done its job.

  “I wonder what this could be,” Miranda joked, getting up from her seat.

  Astrid was positively beaming. She took such joy in pleasing others. He wanted to kick himself for ever trying to shut that out. “Open it.”

  Miranda tore back some of the paper. “I can’t believe you bought me the exact model of stroller I wanted. I mentioned it one time, totally in passing. How did you remember?”

  Astrid tapped her temple with her finger. “It’s all locked away up here.”

  Clay and everyone else watched as Astrid and Miranda embraced. It was a very sweet moment. Johnathon Sterling had certainly had magnificent taste in women. “Does this mean we get cupcakes?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Miranda said. “I’m dying to find out.”

  Clay brought out the platter of bakery treats topped with white icing and a mix of pink and blue sprinkles. Astrid handed out dessert plates and napkins while everyone took a cupcake. “We’ll count to three and everyone take a bite,” Astrid said. “The frosting inside will give us our answer.”

  “Everyone ready?” Miranda asked. “One, two, three.”

  On cue, they followed the directive, which was quickly followed by a chorus of exclamations. It’s a girl.

  Miranda instantly burst into happy tears, as did Astrid. Clay found his eyes getting misty, but more than anything he was just so glad for his sister. She’d been through so much. These glimmers of joy were well-deserved. He quickly pulled her into a big embrace, rocking her back and forth in his arms.

  “Just what you needed,” Miranda said. “Another woman in your life.”

  “Are you kidding me? I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” It was then that he caught sight of Astrid and she returned his gaze. Her smile lit up her entire face, especially her mesmerizing eyes. It was the truth. He was lucky. And this time, he was going to do his damnedest not to ruin it.

  Eleven

  The party at Astrid’s ushered in two blissful weeks for Clay and Astrid—stolen kisses at work, lunch hours where they raced to Astrid’s to be alone, sexy glances and flirtation in the stressful throes of finishing the second Seaport Promenade proposal. Every day was full of promise. Clay had a spring in his step he hadn’t had in so long. He had optimism he wasn’t sure he’d ever had. Astrid was amazing.

  But he knew he had to make a change. They were also sneaking around. He might not be ready for full-blown commitment, and Astrid was clear about taking things slow, but it still didn’t sit right with him. She’d been waiting for her happy ending for her whole life. He knew she deserved better.

  For now, he had more pressing matters, namely Delia and her Halloween costume. Despite his best efforts over the months, Clay was not getting better at braids.

  “Daddy, that looks bad.” Delia frowned at him via her reflection in the mirror. “It doesn’t look like the picture.” She pointed at the cover of her Snow Princess DVD.

  Indeed, he had failed to create six equal-sized braids circling her head, as well as the spirals that were supposed to be secured to her head with bobby pins. This hairstyle was like Princess Leia ran headlong into a Rubik’s Cube, and he had zero confidence in his ability to solve the puzzle in time for trick-or-treating. As if the universe was conspiring against him, one of the elastics popped off its braid and it began to unravel. A single tear rolled down Delia’s cheek, her lower lip quivered, and her chin dimpled.

  “Please don’t cry. I’m begging you. Don’t cry.”

  “Then fix it,” she pleaded.

  That was it. He had to call in the big guns. “What if I call Astrid?”

  “Yes, Daddy. Do it now.”

  He grabbed his cell phone from the bathroom counter and found Astrid on his favorites list.

  “Hi,” Astrid answered with a purr. One word and his stomach flipped. Memories of being with her over the last few weeks inundated his mind—blinding passion, unbelievable heat, and tender moments he never expected.

  “I need help with Delia’s hair for her Halloween costume. I have no idea what I’m doing and it’ll be dark in an hour.”

  “I’m on my way. Fifteen minutes if I hit the lights right.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course. Anything for you.”

  Again he was struck by his luck. He couldn’t mess this up. “Astrid will be here very soon, okay?” he asked Delia. “She’ll fix everything.”

  Delia sat straighter, the tears a distant thought. “I’m excited to see her.”

  Clay felt a distinct tug in the vicinity of his heart. Every fiber of his being wanted Delia to like Astrid. There was so much riding on it, but he also knew that he couldn’t force it. He had to let this happen naturally. “Good, honey. I’m glad.”

  Delia read a book while they waited for Astrid to arrive. Clay kept looking out the window, anxiously waiting. When her little silver convertible pulled into the driveway, he opened the door. “Thank you so much,” he called as he thundered down the front stairs.

  “Of course. I would never leave Delia in the lurch.” Astrid climbed out of her car, looking amazing in a simple white blouse and curve-hugging blue jeans.

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her softly, but kept it quick. He wasn’t ready for Delia to see that. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “So am I.” She smiled wide. “Now let’s fix Delia’s hair.”

  Clay led her upstairs, through his master bedroom and into his bath, where Delia was still perched on a barstool, patiently waiting. “Astrid’s here,” he said.

  Delia’s eyes immediately lit up. “Thank you thank you thank you.” It came out so fast, it was nearly a single word.

  “I heard Daddy was having a hard time.” Astrid set down her handbag on the marble counter and took one of Delia’s hands.

  “He was trying his hardest.”

  “I’m sure he was.”

  Astrid grinned. Then her gaze connected with Clay’s. It felt like a lightning bolt straight through his heart. Witnessing this sweet exchange between her and Delia was making the effect even more powerful.

  Clay stood and observed while Astrid went to work, sectioning Delia’s hair and braiding thin strands, and picking up more hair as she went. He’d watched a few tutorial videos, but she made it look so effortless. By the time she had two of the six done, Clay felt like he could breathe again. It was going to look beautiful and Delia would be happy.

  “How did you ever practice this?” he asked. “I thought you only had brothers.”

  Astrid wound a rubber band on the end of another braid. “I had a neighbor who watched me after school. She let me practice on her hair. My brothers were always busy with sports and both of my parents worked.”

  “I wish I had a brother,” Delia said. “Or a sister. It’s just me and Daddy and it gets very boring sometimes.”

  Astrid cleared her throat and shot Clay a look. “Well, brothers can be a big pain in the butt, too. So they’re both good and bad.” She juggled the strands of hair between her fingers. “You must have lots of friends at school to play with. Friends can be even better than siblings.”

  “I guess,” Delia said.

  Astrid finished the last braid. “I’ll coil the ends and pin them, then lock them down with hairspray.” She slid Clay a questioning look. “You do have hairspray, don’t you?”

  “I didn’t realize it was that important.”

  Astrid dug through her purse. “Don’t worry. I don’t go anywhere without it.” She returned to Delia’s hair, making quick work of the final steps. “Well? Good?”

  Delia picked up the DVD case and consulted it, then admired herself in the mirror. “It looks just like the picture.” She hopped off the barstool and flung her arms around Astrid’s waist. “Thank you so much.”

  This was a sight Clay hadn’
t been fully prepared for. Seeing Delia and Astrid forge a bond made his chest swell with pride and happiness.

  “Can I put my costume on now?” Delia asked him.

  “Yes. Do you need help?”

  Delia shook her head. “I can do it.”

  “Just yell if you change your mind.” Delia left and Clay turned his sights to Astrid, who was leaning against the bathroom counter. Dammit, he wanted to kiss her more than almost anything. “You really bailed me out. It kills me when she’s not happy.”

  “Of course it does. You’re a great dad.” She straightened and looked around the room, then walked off through the bathroom door and into his room. “So this is your bedroom. It’s beautiful. Not overly masculine. Just the right amount.”

  Clay swallowed hard as he watched her walk over to the bed and swish her hand across the comforter. “Miranda designed it for me.”

  “Did you and your wife live here?”

  “No. I was worried it would traumatize Delia to stay. I lucked out with this house, actually. I designed it for a client, but the whole time I was working on it, I was falling in love with it. The client ended up taking a job in Dubai and sold it to me.”

  “You did luck out.”

  “And we’re so much closer to Miranda here. I knew I was going to need her help as much as possible.”

  “But you didn’t call her about the braids?”

  That was when it hit him—his first thought had been to seek Astrid’s help. He was so conditioned to go to Miranda. Apparently that had changed. “You offered. And I figured I needed an expert.”

  Astrid nodded in agreement, but something in the look on her face said that she was on to him. If she hadn’t known that he was falling for her, perhaps she knew it now. “I do know my Nordic hairstyles.”

  “I’d better make sure she doesn’t need help with her costume.”

  “Yes. Go. I’ll wait downstairs. Or maybe I should go. I know you two have a big night ahead of you.”