I press my forehead to hers as I grab the edges of her towel and wrap it around her naked body. “I’d say our little show worked. She ended the call without a word.”
Rose refolds the edge of her towel around her breasts and giggles. “I’m glad. She’s a mean ole twat.”
“I’m pretty sure she’ll understand what you mean to me after seeing that, hot pants.”
“I’m not wearing any pants, ass grabber.” The huge smile she’s trying to subdue tells me she isn’t upset I got a little grabby. God, her ass felt great in my hands.
“Liked that, did ya?” I chuckle when I lift her towel to smack her bare cheek, evoking a high-pitched squeal out of her. I can’t resist touching it again, even if it is only a quick swat.
“Finish getting ready. We gotta run if we’re going to make our helicopter tour.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chapter Seventeen
__________________________________
Rose Middleton
∞
I’m so sad to see the best week of my life come to an end. Bastien and I can’t stay here forever. It’s called vacation for a reason. It always comes to an end.
Hawaii was everything I dreamed it would be. Blue bodies of water. White sand. Lush green vegetation. Waterfalls rushing down into a stunning body of water. Complete paradise. It’s nearly impossible to believe that the islands were once nothing more than rock without any kinds of plants or flora.
It will forever go down as my best vacation, but mostly because I was with the man I love.
Our days have been packed with fun and adventure. But when the night comes, the intense sexual tension is nearly choking. It intensifies each night. Every time I climb into bed, I think it’ll be the night he makes a move. But, no.
He busies himself on that damn phone every night when I come out of the bathroom, acting as though he’s too preoccupied with emails to pay attention to me. But I see him looking. And I know he likes what he sees. I can’t wait until he gets a peek at me in the black lace gown tonight. I dare him to act as though he doesn’t have time to look at me.
It’s our last day in Hawaii. I’ve had all week to think about it and I’m certain of what I want. His mouth on mine. Him peeling my clothes from my body. Feeling the weight of him pressing me into the bed while he moves in and out of me.
If it’s going to happen, tonight is the night. And I very much want it to happen. Happy birthday to me.
I walk the aisles of the hotel convenience store looking for Bastien and find him browsing in the cosmetics section. “Looking for some new lip gloss?”
“I ran out this morning.”
“You can borrow mine. All you had to do was ask.”
“I’m looking for ChapStick, hot pants.”
Hot pants. He’s been calling me that all week. It’s funny but I like it. Reminds me of our first morning here. Climbing on top of him and kissing him like crazy was a bold move, one I have not second-guessed all week.
Thirteen months together and that was our first intimate encounter—at least a physical one. We’ve had countless moments I consider emotionally intimate. I hold each and every one of them dear but this—this was something else. Touching him. Kissing him. Holding him. Hearing the noises he makes when he’s turned on. It was . . . everything.
And it was also pretend.
Except it wasn’t pretend for me.
“Give me a sec to grab some motion sickness medication for our flight home and I’ll meet you at the checkout counter.” Still can’t believe I got so queasy on the flight here.
I walk the aisle and stop when I see the contraceptives. I look both ways like a kid about to get caught doing something bad before I pluck a box of condoms from the shelf. We need these. But I can’t toss them on the checkout counter in front of Bastien.
I don’t believe I’m the only one feeling the sexual tension between us. I bet he’s already been down here and bought some of these bad boys for tonight.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
Fingers crossed.
I quickly shove the box of condoms back on the shelf when I see him coming down the aisle toward me. “Motion sickness medication isn’t on this aisle.”
I walk toward him with my head down—face pulsating, heart pounding—hoping he’ll turn and walk in the opposite direction. All he has to do is see the products on the shelf to know what I was looking at. Shit.
He holds up a foil square. “Is that what you want?”
I nearly fall over because the travel size portion of motion sickness medication so strongly resembles a condom wrapper. “Umm . . . yeah. Perfect.”
“Is there anything else you need?” I hear an underlying tone in his voice—meaning he has probably noticed the contraceptives on the shelf behind me.
I busy myself with looking at over the counter pain relief medication. “I’m good. Is there anything you think you need?”
“Just came for the ChapStick.”
I’m at least going to give him the opportunity to buy condoms if he hasn’t already. “Mind if I head up to the room while you check out? I need to hop in the shower and shave my legs before we go to the beach.” Legs won’t be the only thing I need to shave since I’m wearing the skimpy bikini Bastien bought me for my birthday.
“Sure.”
I walk away, smiling on the inside and out. Tonight is going to make this the best birthday ever.
***
I look in the mirror and smile as I recall how we spent our last day in Hawaii.
We were nothing more than beach bums. And I loved every second. Today has been my favorite day by far. Probably because we were constantly touching each other in one form or another. Riding his back in the ocean. Arms and legs wrapped around his front. Our pinkie fingers barely touching while we lay side by side on the sand. It’s as though we couldn’t not touch in some kind of way.
Now he’s taking me to dinner in the hotel’s five-star restaurant. Not that that really impresses either of us. We’d rather be eating at home but this is a nice second.
“Our reservation is in ten minutes.”
I’m running late; I just couldn’t make myself leave the beach. “I need a few more minutes to get ready. Head down to the restaurant and check in for us. I’ll hurry.”
“I will if you promise you won’t stand me up.”
“I promise I won’t stand you up, ass grabber,” I call out from the bathroom.
Bastien has been exceptionally playful and silly on this trip. I love it.
“They probably won’t seat me until you’re there. I’ll wait for you in the bar.”
“No worries. I’ll find you.”
I sort of want to kick myself. I’ve saved my sexiest dress for tonight and now I have to rush to get ready. I really wanted to look my best and now it’s not going to happen unless I make myself late.
Bastien doesn’t like tardiness. But maybe he’ll forgive me this one time if it’s because I’m trying to look glamorous for him. No. Make that irresistible.
Backless black dress dipping so low it should be illegal. One-hundred-sixty-millimeter Louboutin ankle boots. Sun-kissed skin. Thankfully, I’m not incredibly late, and look pretty good for a rush job.
As promised, I find him in the bar. “Made it.”
Bastien leans over and kisses the side of my face. “That was fast.”
“Told you I’d hurry.”
“Can’t tell. You look beautiful, as always.” I smile. Big. Love hearing his praises.
“You look very handsome. I didn’t get to see you before you left the penthouse.”
“Wanted to look good for my birthday girl here.”
My birthday girl. I love hearing him say things like that. Anything pertaining to me being his is all right by me.
Bastien slides off the stool. “I think they’re ready to seat us.”
“Good because I’m starving.” For food and for him.
I don’t have exact memories of my only sex
ual experience, but it left a deep gaping wound in my soul. I thought I’d never find a man whom I could trust with my heart, but especially my body. A man I could respect. A man I could love. One who would take away my fear of intimacy because I knew he cared deeply about me.
Bastien is that man.
I’ve tasted him. Felt him harden beneath my body. And I wasn’t frightened.
I am ready for this.
***
Bastien holds my hands and leads me toward the sofa. “Sit. I have a birthday surprise for you.”
“This trip is far more than enough. You’ve spoiled me so much already.” I grin. “But I’m willing to be spoiled a little more.”
“I’ve given you the luxurious stuff. It’s time for the gift that matters.”
The gift that matters. The one I’ve been not so patiently waiting for. Can’t wait to see what this beautiful man has come up with this time. “Something you bought here or brought from home?”
“Not telling. You’ll have to open it and find out.”
He places a small Bastien-wrapped box in my hand. Funny how I always feel a little warmer inside each time I see one of his wrapping jobs.
I rip the paper away to reveal a ring box. I’m not silly. I don’t think for a moment it’s an engagement ring but my heart still skips a beat.
I waste no time cracking the box open.
White gold ring. Small diamonds. Vintage.
Stunning.
“It was my mother’s first wedding ring. The one my father gave her before he made his fortune. It’s the one she treasured.”
“Bastien . . .”
“Don’t you dare say you can’t accept it.” He takes the box from me and removes the band. He grasps my hand in his and pushes it onto my wedding ring finger. My. Wedding. Ring. Finger. “This is exactly where this ring belongs. On you.” Oh God. If I didn’t love this man before, there would be no choice now. How did I get so damn lucky? How?
All of my fears about this being our last trip before he sends me away are eradicated. He wouldn’t give me something so precious if he was preparing to say goodbye.
I wrap my arms around him and squeeze. “It’s beautiful, Bash. I will treasure it just as your mother did.”
“I know you will.”
I hold tightly, hoping he will kiss me. I wait. And wait some more. But he doesn’t make a move. And I don’t either; I’m too frightened.
This is so confusing. Bastien just gave me his mother’s wedding ring. He placed it on my wedding ring finger. If he were going to take things to the next level, this would have been the perfect time. Yet he isn’t. Have I read him wrong?
“Our flight is early. We have to be up in six hours. We should probably try to get some sleep.”
It’s not going to happen. He doesn’t have anything but rest on his mind. “Right.”
I’m down to my last piece of sleepwear—the black lace gown. It’s sexy as all get out . . . and will apparently be wasted on sleep. But whatever. This has been the trip of a lifetime. I will never forget these moments with Bastien as long as I live.
I was never promised love or a happily ever after, and if this time together is what Bastien wants to give to me? I’m the luckiest woman in the world.
Heading to the bathroom, I feel a little wobbly. I haven’t tried the sexy gown on but I know it’s going to be revealing. No way it won’t be.
I do my bedtime ritual and pull the gown over my head. Holy shizzle. This thing is sheer. You can see everything through the lace down to the skimpy matching thong. I don’t know if I can walk out there in this. It feels so . . . shameful. And humiliating, considering he has made it clear he isn’t interested in sex with me.
He can give me a ring, but not his heart. Not his body.
But I have received so much more than I ever imagined at the beginning. Marie-Grace’s apron. Her recipes. Her treasured wedding ring. Bastien gave me these things because he cares for me. I don’t doubt the significance of them for a second. Maybe this is his way of loving me as much as he can.
I take one last look in the mirror and remind myself I didn’t choose this nightgown. He knows that. It’s the only reason I’m going to wear it in front of him after pretty much being told to get in bed and go to sleep.
Not saying one word or apologizing for wearing something so revealing. I’m going out there, getting in bed, and going to sleep. Just like he suggested.
I open the bathroom door, and just like every other night, Bastien is on his phone. Busying himself. I think a ploy to avoid looking at me in the sexy sleepwear Candace sent. Tonight, I actually appreciate him not looking at me so I can make a dash for the bed.
He looks up from his phone and his eyes zoom in on the gown. On me. On my near nakedness.
I cross my arms over my chest and open my mouth to say something. But nothing comes out.
“Wow.”
I’m not sure if that’s a good wow or a bad wow but it forces me to say something. “I know. Revealing. I debated coming out in it.”
“Spin. Slowly.”
My heart pumps like crazy as I put my arms down and turn so he can get a three sixty.
“That little number leaves nothing to question, does it? Candace gets a bonus when we get back.” He chuckles.
Bastien knows me so well. He picked up on my discomfort and this is his way of bringing me ease. Humor. I know because it’s his way with me. Always.
But I don’t feel the least bit at ease.
I want him. I want him to want me. And I don’t think he does.
I get into bed and bring the linens nearly up to my chin. “We always have separate rooms when we travel. I didn’t know we’d be sharing this time. I would have brought sleepwear that covered me if I had known.”
“I love everything you’ve worn this week.” He pauses a few seconds before continuing. “Especially this one. I hope you’ll wear it again after we’re home.” He does?
The Hawaii Bastien and Rose are completely different people than the New Orleans Bastien and Rose. We touch. Flirt. Pretend I’m Mrs. Pascal. I adore this version of us.
I open my hand and admire the wedding ring on my finger. “I love everything about who we’ve become this week.”
“I do too.” He’s noticed the difference as well?
“Our relationship has been different here. I don’t want that to end when we go home.”
“I don’t want it to end either.” Yes.
“Then don’t let it, Bash. This is who I want to be after we’re back in New Orleans.” Plus so much more.
“It’s easy to forget the real world when you’re in paradise. When we go home, reality will set in again.”
Reality. He means his illness.
“Paradise is nice. I’ve loved every minute we’ve spent here but real, everyday life is what I want with you.” It’s no different than me loving the luxurious gifts he gives me but treasuring the ones from the heart.
“Everyday life with me down the road isn’t going to be a walk in the park.”
“I don’t think any relationship is always a walk in the park. They take work on both parts. And I’ve told you, Bash. I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be alive. And with me.”
For once, he doesn’t argue. And I think I see a fracture in the wall that divides us—the obstacle that always prevents us from becoming . . . more.
His barricade is crumbling. Tumbling down piece by piece. I want to break it down until nothing remains.
I roll to my stomach and get on my hands and knees to crawl to him. I still can’t believe how nervous I get every time we’re this close. The butterflies in my stomach come alive and flutter out of control.
“You don’t need this,” I tell him as I take his phone from his hand and put it away on the bedside table.
His eyes are locked on mine when I lick my lips and lean forward to press them to his. Just the surface of lips on lips until we simultaneously open and our tongues find one another.
/> Our kiss is slow. Seductive. Sultry.
Bastien grabs the back of my head and pulls me closer, deepening our kiss, making me want him desperately.
I move from all fours and toss one of my legs across him so I’m straddling his body. And he doesn’t stop me.
His hands are on my butt, his fingertips digging into my flesh just like the morning we pretended to make out on the couch. But this time he’s pulling me into him and rocking against me. Hard. I hold on tightly and move in counteraction with him.
His hands inch upward to shove my gown up and over my head, leaving me only in my black lace thong. He stops kissing me when I’m topless and gently palms my breasts. “So damn beautiful.”
Every cell. Every fiber. Every part of my makeup has ignited and is burning for him.
“Take off your shirt.” I’m dying to be pressed against him skin on skin.
He reaches overhead and pulls his shirt off in one fluid motion. God, his level of masculine beauty is just ridiculous. No one should be this good-looking.
I’ve seen Bastien shirtless countless times but I’ve never had free rein to touch him. I’m taking advantage.
I press my palms to his chest and circle his pecs, feeling the firm muscle beneath my hands. So hard. So strong. So manly. I move my hands down his chest, to his stomach and briefly explore before pushing my fingers into the waistband of his sleep pants. “Help me get these off.”
“Rose . . . we shouldn’t do this. It isn’t right.”
He can’t stop this now. “Who says this isn’t right?”
“It doesn’t make sense to move our relationship in this direction when we know I’m sick.”
“Please, Bash. I don’t care if you’re sick with ALS. I don’t care if you’re going to get sicker. I want you—I want this—and everything that goes along with it.”
“I’m afraid, Rose. Terrified it will be impossible to make you leave when the time comes.”
When the time comes.
No way. We are not having the death talk again. Not now. “It’s already an impossibility. I’m never leaving you, and you can’t make me.”
He pulls my face to his and presses his forehead to mine. “You’re so young. I don’t want to be your burden.”
Dear Agony Page 15
