The Bride Wore Red At The Ladies Club: Arabella's Story (Cosmic Hot Shorts Book 4)

by Susan Stephens

  Standing down, Jack gradually relaxed, but she could still feel his tension when he brought her into his arms to kiss the top of her head. Just for a few moments, she did put everything ugly out of her mind, and wondered when she had ever felt so safe.

  "I would have liked to see you in that dress," he murmured, pulling back to smile down at her. "I would have liked taking it off you too. Perhaps we'll find another one in Paris..."

  She had fallen asleep in Jack's arms, Arabella realized, waking slowly to find Jack kissing her. "I'm so sorry—"

  "Don't be silly," he growled against her mouth. "You must have needed that.

  "I did," she admitted.

  "What are you doing?" she asked as Jack started undressing her.

  "Sleeping fully dressed is understandable when you're mentally and physically exhausted, but making love fully dressed presents an unnecessary challenge—"

  "Making love?" she exclaimed, holding on vice–like to her clothes. "No, Jack. You can't see me naked."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I'm fat," she blurted out.

  Pulling back, Jack stared at her with a frown on his face. "You're fat?" he repeated. "Are you crazy? If I'm lucky enough to sink into a pleasure park filled with sweet lips and cushioned breasts, why would I want to exchange that for a bony stretch of wasteland?"

  She relaxed and laughed. She wanted to believe him more than anything in the world, but she was still unsure after years of being browbeaten. It was hard to remember a time when she'd felt good about her body, though the way Jack was looking at her and kissing her was going some way to change that.

  He knew how shy she was when it came to her body—when it came to sex, for that matter, and he took things slowly. It was she who woke, like a creature who had been in hibernation for far too long. He brought her steadily to the point where she could accept that she was entitled to pleasure too, and it wasn't long after that before she started moving in the search for more contact, more stimulating touches from Jack's skillful hands. She gasped out loud when he nuzzled her breasts and slipped the bra straps from her shoulders.

  "You're magnificent," he breathed. "Don't let anyone ever tell you that you're anything less than perfect."

  Jack proved how he felt with his mouth, greedy on her nipples, and when she arched her back with pleasure, his hands moved down her body, swiftly removing the rest of her clothes.

  "You don't need them," he said when she grabbed the covers to cover herself. Throwing them back, he kicked them off the bed.

  "This is unequal," she complained, smiling with growing confidence as she reached for him.

  Jack laughed as she wrestled with his clothes, and ripped them off himself. There was something so honest about him, so refreshingly straightforward and unabashed.

  "Better?" he demanded.

  "Much better," she confirmed, matching his grin.

  "I think you will agree that where size is concerned, we are perfectly suited."

  She laughed. "If you're saying I'm the pneumatic, pocket–version of your big, muscular frame, you could be right."

  "I'm not looking for a body builder. I'm looking for a soft pillow to call home." His laughing eyes had turned serious.

  "There's nothing soft about me." She realized with surprise that this was absolutely true. It had taken years of keeping her mouth shut, to the point where she didn't know who she was, to handle Harold. She was rediscovering herself with Jack, and learning that the anything–for–a–quiet–life person had never really been her.

  Jack soon distracted her. "I think you're trying to drive me crazy," she accused him when he moved over her to brush her body lightly with his.

  "Why?" he murmured, dipping his head to drop a lingering kiss on her lips. He frowned and smiled all at the same time. "Am I supposed to do something more?"

  He was teasing her. Jack knew exactly what to do.

  Soothing her even as he aroused her, he dropped kisses on her neck whilst nudging between her thighs. Her whole body craved him with a hunger that was impossible to describe. She didn't just feel free; she felt this was right—meant to be. And she felt safe. But when the weight of Jack's erection brushed against her, she tensed up again.

  "I'll be gentle with you," he promised, smiling against her lips.

  "It's been a long time, Jack."

  His expression tensed as he no doubt imagined her past experience, which had not been tender, or gentle, or generous in any way.

  Jack kept his word, while she discovered new levels of pleasure. He was so big, and yet so sensitive to her needs. His lightest touch was so incredible she could hardly breathe. His hands mapped her body with lazy appreciation, and with enjoyment, he told her over and over again. He was in no hurry, which gave her the chance to relax and enjoy everything...his hands weighing her breasts, his lips suckling her nipples, and the moment he moved on, smoothing his palms over the swell of her belly until his fingers reached and searched the most sensitive part of her. She had no idea how she was going to hang on. The intensity of sensation was immense as he stroked her...so gently at first, and then with increasing pressure. Jack knew exactly what he was doing.

  She was more than ready by the time he moved over her. Her legs parted of their own accord. He touched her with just the tip of his erection, and drawing it back and forth, he kept her suspended on a plateau of pleasure for the longest time. And then he dipped inside her. A shaking sigh escaped her lips, but he pulled back.

  "Jack..."

  He barely gave her a chance to complain before repeating the move, and he did this again and again, until she was so sensitive she couldn't believe it, and she was whimpering with need.

  "Now?' he suggested, his firm, sexy mouth curving in a smile.

  Grabbing hold of his arms, she gripped them and nodded her head.

  Air rocketed out of her as Jack sank deep. He was so big...immense. She had never known anything like it.

  "Alright?" he murmured.

  "Oh yes," she managed somehow to gasp out.

  Remaining deep inside her, Jack rolled his hips, and that was all it took. Without warning, the waves of her climax crashed over her. She tumbled into extreme sensation, crying out his name in wonder and shock. When the pleasure waves subsided she became vaguely aware that Jack was laughing softly. She was past caring what he, or what anyone, thought of her. He was amazing—this was amazing, and she had no intention of holding back. But then she did start to feel a bit guilty. "Should I wait for you this time?"

  "Why?" Withdrawing with a deliberate lack of haste, Jack looked down at her. "This is all for you. I can wait."

  When he sank deep again, she lost it immediately and came apart in his arms. The pleasure gripped her whole body, and she was gripping his arms so tightly, she was probably bruising him, but she couldn't stop herself as she worked her body against his.

  "Seems I might have to wait for some time," Jack said, laughing as if he were pleased as he brought her into his arms to soothe her down.

  She laughed too—with amazement and sheer relief that she could do this at all. And, had she ever laughed during sex before? No, she thought, she had not.

  "You just want to play with my breasts all day," she accused Jack as he claimed them.

  "Do you blame me?" he challenged, making her gasp as he bucked his body into hers.

  "Did I give you permission for that?" she teased.

  "Do I need it?"

  No. Oh, no. For the first time in her life, she was enjoying her body—reveling in it, and the pleasure it was bringing Jack.

  "So, this is what I've been missing," he said, coming to lie facing her. "What a fool I am to take so long to find you." And then he kissed her hungrily and passionately, his hands roving at will over a body that was now perfectly in tune to his. When he pulled away this time, it was only to move her to the edge of the bed. Standing in front of her, he brought her legs over his shoulders so she was totally exposed, and he could stare down. This was even more amazing th
an ever, she thought as Jack sank slowly inside her and began to move rhythmically as she groaned with pleasure in time to each stroke.

  "You've made me greedy," she accused him when she'd finally stopped screaming.

  "Good," Jack said simply as he joined her on the bed.

  "But this has to be for you now," she insisted.

  Drawing her knees back, she pressed her thighs wide and held them for him.

  She loved the way Jack's expression darkened and grew intent as he took his time to sink into her, all the while watching what he was doing to her. He pulled out just as slowly, as she half suspected he would—had hoped he would, because then she knew he would torture her for a few moments with the lack of him, before thrusting deep. But this time she couldn't wait. Taking hold of his buttocks in an iron grip, she ordered, "Now!"

  Chapter Seven

  When he came inside Bella it was cataclysmic. He nearly passed out. He roared and then thrust so hard and fast he was concerned for her afterwards.

  "Don't be silly," she whispered against his mouth. "I'm not exactly frail, as you might have noticed."

  "You are to me."

  "I liked seeing you out of it like that," Bella admitted. "I liked seeing you lose control because of me. And I do have a confession to make..."

  "Yes?" he murmured, lifting his head to stare at her.

  "I snuck in a little pleasure of my own, but you were too busy roaring to hear me fall big. Perfect synchronization," she confirmed happily when he looked at her, and then she laughed as she told him, "It's a sign."

  "I certainly hope so."

  He couldn't remember feeling like this. Kissing Arabella was like sinking into a vat of warm, sweet honey, but it wasn't just the physical side of their relationship that made him feel different—optimistic about the future—it was the fact that he had found her at all. He kissed her long and slow, his tongue lazily tracing the contours of her mouth, while his hands mapped the lush contours of her body, and within moments, he was making love to her again.

  They showered and made love again under the warm spray. They ate in the room, and Bella got strawberries squashed all over her when they made love again. When they went to bed they slept with their limbs entwined, and when she woke, he made love to her again.

  "I have to make up for lost time," he explained, adopting a serious expression as he pinned her wrists above her head. "And, though I'm loathe to leave this bed at all while we're in Paris, you are right to say that you will need some more clothes. So, what I need you to do now is to come really quickly so we can get out and go shopping. Do you think you can do that for me?"

  "I'm not sure," she teased him. "Shall we try?"

  As Bella turned so that she had her back to him and her buttocks raised, there was no question as to what would happen next. She loved it when he moved behind her and touched her at the same time. "May I suggest you stop talking and concentrate."

  "I don't need to concentrate," she assured him, and to prove it, she lifted her hips even more for him, so that now it was a battle for him to hold on. Luckily, he didn't have to wait too long before she fell noisily and energetically, shrieking with abandon as she thrust greedily back and forth.

  They made it to the shops just before they closed. He'd taken her to the smaller boutiques that clustered the warren of streets off the main thoroughfares of Paris. He had one thing in mind and that was a red dress. And not just any red dress, but one with easy access, he told her.

  He was pleased with their purchases, and after leaving them at the hotel he took her to the Eiffel tower.

  "We can't. We absolutely can't," Bella protested when he took hold of her wrist and brought her around a pillar, boxing her in with her back to it, and his fists planted on either side of her face.

  "People are walking up the steps just feet away," she pointed out breathlessly.

  "Whatever happened to your sense of adventure?" he whispered.

  "I'm not sure I ever had one as big as yours."

  He laughed and felt her quiver with an instant surge of hunger as his lips began to tease her neck and shoulders. "You do now," he said.

  The look on Jack's face was irresistible. He was so bad, which meant he was so good. The touch of his lips and hands was the only spell necessary for her to forget that they were inches away from a whole host of unsuspecting tourists.

  "There's just one thing," he said, reaching beneath her dress.

  "What?" she said.

  "You're going to have to be very, very quiet."

  Sucking a sharp breath in as he hit the spot, she hummed. "That might be a problem."

  "I don't want you to get arrested on your first full day in Paris."

  "You'll come with me."

  "That is my intention," he confirmed.

  She laughed. "You're impossible! And you'd better be fast."

  "No. You'd better be fast," he said.

  Jack wasn't too fast, thank goodness. Dipping at the knees, he took her deep, and then he worked steadily until she was on the brink.

  "Quiet," he warned.

  "Not sure I can," she admitted tensely.

  "Shall we find out?"

  She buried her face in his shoulder as Jack murmured, "Now."

  Keening deep in her throat, she worked her hips to extract every last pleasure surge, and then, with a moan that seemed to come from deep inside his chest, Jack lost it too.

  It was a good while before either of them could speak.

  "Better?" he said then, slanting a smile down at her.

  "For now." She smiled back at him, looking deep into his eyes and seeing everything she needed to see there. Then she glanced around to make sure they hadn't stopped the flow of traffic. Incredible though it seemed, no one had even noticed.

  Jack took her for a romantic meal in a tiny restaurant close to the hotel. There was dancing after they had eaten sweet things and savory things, and all of it unbelievably delicious. A singer was crooning about love and the dance floor was packed. Pushed close together, they moved as one, slowly and intimately, until the end of the evening became inevitable. Taking hold of her hand, Jack led her off the floor. They paused briefly at their table to pick up her things. He paid the bill and they left. He didn't speak as he took her quickly down the cobbled street, but she sensed his urgency.

  "We're not going to make it to the hotel," he said, pulling her beneath an old–fashioned street lamp.

  When Jack kissed her, she believed him. He was touching her too. He reached between her legs, and she stared up at him, breathless beneath the soft glow of the lamp. Closing her eyes, she sighed as he pressed her back against the wall and plunged deep. She was so ready for it—for him, and it only took a few firm thrusts for her to find the release she so desperately needed again.

  "I always think it can't get any better," Jack said in husky tone when they had both recovered. "But it always does." He dropped a lingering kiss on her neck, and then straightened his clothes.

  "All the more reason to keep on testing ourselves," she said as she did the same.

  "Do you have any idea what you mean to me?" Jack said, his dark stare intent on her face.

  "Not really," she said honestly.

  Bringing her in front of him, he stared deep into her eyes. "I've never felt like this about anyone, Bella. You're more than special to me, you are vital to my life."

  "Are you sure it's not just this romantic setting and the moonlight encouraging you to say that?"

  "You make me say that," he insisted, "and I never say anything unless I mean it."

  Reassured, she nestled her head against his neck.

  When they got back to the hotel, they made love all night. But that wasn't the best thing, Arabella thought as she strolled naked across the room the next morning.

  The best thing was this—the fact that she had grown completely confident in her own skin. She loved her body now, because Jack loved her body, and because it brought him pleasure. She had never had the confidence to do some
thing as simple as walk across a room naked before—let alone in front of a man.

  "Who made you so self–conscious?" Jack asked with his usual shrewd perception.

  "My parents were always telling me I should lose weight. I know they loved me, and they just wanted me to conform, but their comments made me think I was fat—and Harold definitely thought I was fat."

  "And he, of course, was perfect," Jack murmured.

  She opened her arms wide, not knowing what to say to that.

  "Your parents were probably more worried for you than for themselves," Jack agreed. "But there was no need for them to be concerned. You're far more beautiful than any woman I've ever seen."

  "My parents were concerned that I wouldn't fit in, and I understand that. I was never going to be sleek like a Suzuki, or fashion–forward enough to grace the front covers of a society magazine. I was a bulldog, stubborn and big, and they didn't know how to handle someone who was more comfortable with the horses, or in the vegetable garden, than in the drawing room."

  "Then they missed a lot," he said as he toyed with a lock of her hair.

  "And then I made the worst choice possible, in an attempt to break free from home," Bella admitted. "I thought married life would be different. At the very least, I thought we would move into our own home. And you?" she said, keen to change the subject. She had never dwelt on the past. She preferred to look forward. Like everyone else, she had her black days, but she always fought off the temptation to feel sorry for herself, and tried to remember all the wonderful things in her life instead. "Come on," she urged, noting Jack's reluctance. "I've told you about my past, and now it's your turn."

  "I've got nothing to tell you," he said, frowning as he closed up.

  "Liar," she whispered.

  He stared at her, and then he said, "I was brought up in an orphanage. I don't know who my parents were, and I don't care."

  "You must—"

  The look on Jack's face told her to leave it. It was too much too soon. Maybe one day he'd tell her.