“But Howie! My hair,” she protests. The blonde strands are slightly mussed from our horizontal activity, flowing about her shoulders in a marvelous carpet.
“You look gorgeous babe. You look incredible. You don’t need to do anything to those beautiful blonde locks. You have it all. Natural beauty.”
She smiles and applies red lipstick to her plump lips in the mirror of the limo. She’s totally glimmering. I put her on my arm and we walk inside the restaurant. Never have I felt so complete … and Lacy was the missing puzzle piece.
CHAPTER 7
LACY
I’ve never been in a place like this. Never in my entire life. The restaurant Howie brings me to is beautiful, full of ornate scrolled furniture and high ceilings with plaster molding. All the customers look sophisticated and elegant in their fancy outfits.
Suddenly, my cheeks color. I’m totally out of place! I’m a small-town girl with a working class background. What am I doing here?
Doubt surges through my chest until I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the foyer mirror. I gasp because I look like one of them. The gown fits my body perfectly. My hair is tousled but looks effortlessly glamorous, like a bohemian movie star. My eyes widen.
Howie appears above my shoulder.
“Cinderella,” he whispers into my ear.
All the people at the restaurant know Howie already. The maître d’ bows courteously, and instructs the hostess to bring us to a private room in the back. There are lavish curtains on the walls and candles glowing on white tabletops. I have a knot in my stomach. If I’m Cinderella, when does the clock strike midnight? What happens then? Will I turn into a pumpkin? Will all of this disappear?
As if reading my mind, Howie leans in.
“You know what happens right? At the end of the fairy tale?”
I try to remember.
“Sort of,” I stammer. “Why?”
He grins like a wolf.
“Because the prince comes. He has the glass slipper in his hand and the only one who fits it is you. Believe me, Lacy, I will always find you. I will always be there when you need me.”
I smile. But deep inside, I remember the way Charlie used to say things like that to me. He’d state, “We’re going to get married as soon as I find a good job,” or “I’ll take care of you and Aunt Margaret always.” The difference was, he didn’t look at me when it said those things. He was always watching baseball on TV or drinking a beer with his friends. I feel my eyes welling with tears.
“Lacy,” says Howie. “What is it?”
“It’s just- how do I know- how do I know I can really trust you? If you wanted to, you could throw all of this away! How do I know you haven’t bought all your maids fancy dresses? How do I know Mr. Bates?” comes my plaintive wail.
I can’t believe I’m saying these words. I don’t want to hurt him. But I have to know because it’s all happened so fast. He looks me deep in the eyes. I can see something there. It’s truth.
“Lacy, my darling. My girl. Look, I know how I must come off,” he sighs. The billionaire leans back in his chair and I take him in. His beautiful shoulders, the muscles under his sports coat, his chiseled jaw and bronzed skin. Mr. Bates is any girl’s dream man. I berate myself then. Why did I have to ask him? Why oh why did I blurt out those words.
But Howie’s not mad. He crosses his arms and speaks patiently.
“I know I must come off as some big billionaire playboy. But do you know why I was so moved by your Aunt Margaret today? Why I was so moved by your brown eyes, Lacy? Because I know them. Both of you, you remind me of my mother. Of her beauty and her kindness. She died in my arms while I was at home, age seventeen. I thought she’d just passed out but it turned out to be something more sinister. But I didn’t know it at the time, so I carried her in my arms all the way to the hospital. I carried my dying mother from our beat-up split level house all the way to the emergency room in the rain.” Tears well behind Howie’s eyes. I reach out my hand and take his in mine. We place our twined fingers on the silken table cloth.
“All of this Lacy, all of this fancy bullshit? I know it’s not real. It’s not what really matters. What really matters to me is you. Not just pleasing your pussy, but keeping you safe and happy. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you or the people you love. You are my princess, Lacy. You’re my second chance. I couldn’t save my mother. But I can protect you.”
“Oh, Howie.”
I am shaking. This man before me is so deep. So magnetic. I can tell he’s been through so much.
“Howie that’s so terrible about your mother. I’m so sorry.”
“Well sweetheart, the world is a hard place. I learned the hard way because I almost lost my leg too.”
“Leg?” I ask, astonished. “What? How?”
“Car bomb. Afghanistan. 2007.”
My face goes white as a ghost. I’ve heard those words before. But it can’t be. It just can’t be.
“You’ve served in the military?”
“Yes, honey. I’m sorry to say that my mother isn’t the only dead body I’ve had to carry in my arms.”
“Oh Howie! Oh my god.”
“I’m not telling you this for kicks, sweetheart. I’m telling you this so you know I’m not kidding. I haven’t felt this way for a woman since I was discharged. There has been nobody else who could melt the ice off my heart. Not until I saw you there, on my marble floor, wiping away at the stains, did I know my soul could love again.”
He looks deep in my eyes, but suddenly we’re interrupted from our conversation.
“Bordeaux?” We both look up and see the waiter, dressed in a smart black tux. He probably thinks we’re crazy seeing the two of us with our linked hands, both people on the brink of crying. But I can’t help it. I smile and laugh out loud.
“A little wine, Lacy?” says Howie.
I make a face. I haven’t really had wine before. Just cheap stuff that came in forties.
“Are you old enough, Miss?” frowns the waiter, “I’m sorry I have to ask.”
Mr. Bates snorts.
“Of course she’s twenty-one!” he says drolly. “Give us your nicest bottle.”
With that, the waiter scurries away to retrieve the wine.
“You are twenty-one, right?” asks my date.
I blush.
“Don’t tell but I’m actually only nineteen.”
Howie looks totally taken aback.
“Nineteen?”
“Yeah.”
“Christ. No wonder your pussy’s so tight!”
“Howie!”
“What, you’re suddenly so bashful? Aren’t you the girl that lost her virginity on the kitchen floor of her bosses’ penthouse- to her boss?” He winks.
“Well, he did fire me after,” I retort smartly.
We laugh and drink the fine wine together. Howie tells me stories from his wild life. It’s insane. There are tales of battles with gunshots ringing around his head, not to mention the multiple firefights he’s been in. But deep down, I’m just happy to know he is a good man. He is a sexy man, but also good. His intentions are pure. I feel so soft toward him. At dinner’s end, I simply melt onto his arm as we drive back to his penthouse in the limo. I think I could get used to this life.
CHAPTER 8
HOWIE
It took a little getting used to, but now Lacy and Margaret are comfortable in their new lives. I’ve purchased Margaret a brand spanking-new apartment, while Lacy’s practically moved in with me. Margaret calls me one morning out of the blue while Lacy’s in the shower.
“Howie darling, can you tell Lacy that I wish her the most incredible trip! How I wish I could come with you, but my art show is just taking off. Now that I don’t need to worry about rent, I’ve had so much time to let my creativity flower. Thank you honey, I know I owe it to you.”
I nod graciously.
“Did Mrs. Jones call you yet? She wants to commission a necklace and earring set.”
“Yes,
she called my publicist! Oh, I just can’t believe it. Fame and fortune have knocked upon my door, and I feel so lucky. Thank you, you kind man.”
I grin although she can’t see it.
“Aunt Margaret, nothing gives me greater pleasure than giving you and Lacy the lives you deserve. Nothing. And guess what I have in store for my little princess?”
“Oh? What?”
“Well, I’ve always wanted to get Lacy’s portrait done. Not just one portrait, but at least a dozen of them. So she can be everywhere in the penthouse. I may have a few done in Florence for the Italian property. But we need some real New York style paintings of her for my penthouse in the meantime.”
“Wow,” marvels Margaret. “I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be. I’ve got the artist coming over today to do preliminary sketches before we hop on a private jet. Lacy did tell you we’re going to Italy right?”
I can almost hear Margaret’s head bobble up and down happily.
“Oh she’ll just be so delighted. She’s always wanted to hit up Rome and Milan.”
I laugh.
“Well we’ll be going to my estate in the Tuscan countryside, but I’ll make sure we do some side trips too.”
Margaret chortles.
“My beautiful niece. I love her so much. She only deserves the best.”
That makes me stop as my heart pounds. Because I have to tell someone this incredible revelation.
“I-” my breath falls short. “Margaret. I- I love her too.”
I hear Margaret take in a short gulp of breath. She can feel my emotions even through the phone.
“Well you tell her that Howie. You tell her that during sunset at your villa over some beautiful red wine and ripe tomatoes. You tell her that because my beautiful girl deserves to know.”
“Will do,” I promise. “Absolutely.”
Margaret beams again.
“Bless you darling. Now have a good time. Toodle-oo!”
I hang up with a smile on my face, the phone dropping from my still fingers. Because this is it. I’ve said it aloud. I really do love Lacy, and the realization is mindblowing, yet also freeing. Before, I always thought love was about cages and being locked down. But now I know that truly loving someone is like soaring into the heavens with a bursting heart.
I walk down the hall, my mind filled with my beautiful girl. The walls are full of portraits of strangers but soon, they will be replaced with portraits of Lacy. There will be regal portraits, and there will be a couple of sexy ones for my private collection, on display only in our love room.
Because I had one of the extra bedrooms converted into, well, something special just for Lacy and me. It’s going to have every toy imaginable, plus a walk in shower and sauna for when we want water games. Like I said, every accommodation will be at our fingertips.
But when I don’t find Lacy in the bedroom or the bathroom, my brows draw into a frown. I see that the woman’s luggage set is neatly packed, except for one small bag. A small leather suitcase is flipped open, and I catch a glimpse of a new set of bright red lingerie. Garters and crotchless panties. Perfect. We’ll be having a good time in Italy.
Next, I look in the bathroom but she’s nowhere to be found. This leaves only one place. She’s in our special room. I just know it. Slowly, I walk down the hall and unlock the metal door. Pushing the heavy slab open, I enter into the darkened space. The couches inside are made of leopard print. There are silky black marble floors as Indian music plays over the speakers. On the ceiling is a mirror with purple flowing fabric coming down in sheets from a splendid chandelier. On the pink circular bed in the middle of the room is my princess.
I should have known. I got her a virtual truckload of sex toys the other day, and she hasn’t gotten a chance to try them yet. She’s wearing a little black teddy and her blond hair falls over her shoulders in rapture. She can hardly tell I’ve entered the room because my princess is in the middle of shoving a big glass dildo in and out of her hot slit. In her other hand, she holds a bulbous vibrator to her clit. Her back is propped up with pillows.
She’s in such a deep state of ecstasy that it’s a pity to disturb her. I walk closer and closer. I can smell her now. She’s leaking all over the pink satin. My little waterfall. She’s so hot and wet, my cock rises and threatens to pop the seam of my trousers. Oh, my little princess. Look at her writhing!
I’m standing over her now. She still doesn’t know. Her eyes are closed and she’s moaning. I see the glass dildo going in and out, fucking those hot pink folds. Oh no. Don’t come like this, not when I’m here. My dong is bigger than that dildo anyways. I unzip my pants and let my erection bulge outwards. The tip of my cock hits her knee and finally, she notices. She opens her eyes and smiles.
“My lover,” she breathes. “Just in time.”
With that, I’m lower my pants down quick.
“I need some of that pussy baby. Were you keeping it from me?”
“No Howie, you were on the phone and- AHH!!”
I thrust into her with all my might and take her tit in my mouth. I suck and suck, arching my back as I thrust. I remember the first time I dunked my huge cock in this little peach. It was amazing, and only gets better each time.
“How’s my slut?” I growl and tease her, going in a little and then a lot. I grab clumps of her hair and thump my cock into her sweet pussy. She opens her eyes and smiles. I’m hypnotized. She’s such a little whore, but right now, the woman’s way beyond that. There’s something in those eyes that has awakened the volcano of my soul. One look and I’m done for.
Suddenly, I’m coming inside of my perfect princess. I grab her thighs and launch my sperm deep inside. Then I collapse by her side and start to stroke her hair. She smiles like a little girl. I lower my hand to her pussy, wet and freshly waxed for our trip. Our perfect little mound. I pat her perfect clit and she mewls while craning her head for a kiss. I kiss her back like she’s the ultimate truth. We stick our tongues in each other’s mouths and find the secret grooves. She moans, drinking me in. She puts her hands inside my shirt and feels the granite slabs of my chest. She’s really pouring all of her love to me. I get so turned on by the way she needs me, by the way she aches, by the way all her little movements say, “I’m yours Howie, take me.”
I feel my cock rising up again. She flips over me and lowers herself down onto it. She lets the hard shaft enter her pussy once again.
“That’s perfect baby, unnnh,” she moans, tilting her head back. But then her eyes snap open and she smiles at me coyly. “You know, my pussy just doesn’t feel complete without you inside me.” She lowers herself to me and kisses my lips. God, her whole mouth fits in mine. Her hands fit in my hands. Her body is almost obscured by my huge chest and strong legs. But her ass, and her boobs, my god, they go on for days. I move her against me gently, lifting her up and down my cock.
“That’s it princess. Play on my cock. Make my cock your special toy.”
Lacy does it. She pulses up and down, letting out louder and louder moans until I’m about to come again just watching her pleasure.
“Oh baby, Oh, Howie! Howie!” She lets out a giant gush of cum and my whole crotch is drenched. I hold her back gently with my massive hands and spurt my seed deep inside her while she reels from her orgasm.
“That’s it baby, that’s it, take my come.” I hardly make a sound as I come for the second time. I just give it to my princess. She deserves my all.
But still, we have a trip to Italy planned, so reluctantly, I disengage, pulling my dong from her sweet folds.
“You ready?” I murmur, caressing her with my eyes. “The plane leaves in two hours.”
She leaps up.
“Absolutely,” she flushes. “Let me just clean myself up.”
The woman scurries off, and I follow minutes later. Now Lacy’s in the bathroom, brushing her hair. She’s changed out of her teddy and into something more business casual. An ivory pantsuit with golden buttons. She has a red scar
f tied around her neck. She looks positively glamorous.
“So Lacy,” I say. “You know how I’ve always wanted to get a portrait done of you?”
“Well yes, I’ve heard you mention it.”
“That’s right. The portraits in this penthouse bore me. They’re all of people I don’t know who appear to be sixty, so I’m thinking of replacing them. With portraits of you, sweetheart.”
She flushes.
“Really? But that would mean at last twenty paintings!”
I laugh.
“Well, we don’t have to put all twenty up at once. But maybe one or two, so people can see how beautiful you are.”
She flushes.
“I’d like that,” Lacy murmurs, biting her lip. “Also, I forgot to mention. With all this seed in me, there may be a baby growing in me soon.”
The idea sends a shockwave through my body. There was no reason for me to feel like Lacy was anything less than mine, but implanting my seed in her womb would seal the deal. She would be no one else’s. My cock started to rise for a third time that morning just imagining her growing round with my children. Oh shit, it was absolutely right, and suddenly, I wanted it so bad.
But I didn’t want to scare the female, so instead, I changed the subject back to our original topic once more.
“Anyways, Lacy, my little princess. Before we head out, I’m going to have you meet with the portrait painter. They’re going to be doing about twenty different portraits of you, so this is just a preliminary sketch to inform all the others. And yes, what you’re wearing is fine.”
“Who’s the artist?” Lacy applies bee pollen cream to her face and lines her eyes with expensive liquid liner. She’s gotten used to luxury, and it looks good on her.
“Oh, I don’t know. Somebody Edwin found. He’ll escort you to the studio on the third floor after you’re ready.”
#BABYMAKER: A Medical Romance Page 13
