by Loraine Mer
Their tongues met and thrust in each other's mouth until the kiss left them breathless. He groaned when she reached downward, took his cock in her hand, and held it steady while she impaled herself slowly. His raw moan filled the room as inch by inch, her moist warmth enveloped him, until he was fully gloved in her incredible heat. She started moving up and down on his rod without stopping their passionate kiss or embrace. He supported her actions with his hands, moving faster and faster until they broke the kiss. Her feminine scent drove him nuts. He wanted to feed in her juices, to drown in her cream, and only her tight passage welcoming him stopped him from doing so. His body craved her with an intensity he never expected.
Her hands dug into his back, which motivated him to move his hips harder, sharper, for his thrusts to go even farther inside her. He groaned in pleasure as he felt her tense with oncoming orgasm. Their bodies slippery with perspiration, they brushed against each other, causing a subtle friction that intensified their pleasure. His mouth captured the salty beads of sweat on her forehead and followed their trail down her cheek to her neck. He reached her breasts, his tongue lapping the tiny dewdrops around her aureoles.
She moaned and pushed her breasts closer near his face.
He took one of her breasts into his mouth and sucked on it until she threw her head back and balanced herself with her hands on his shoulders, all the while mewling soft little cries that did odd things to him. He felt the tension in his sack increase and stopped his movements, wanting to prolong the moment. He turned and placed her slowly on the bed, going down on top of her. He stroked her clit and started moving once more inside her. This time, he did it in slow thrusts, removing himself almost completely from her before plunging back in. He heard her pleasured cries and increased the rhythm of his strokes.
Her passage tightened, making him lose all control over his senses as she grasped him in her gloved warmth. A wave of pleasure invaded him, urging him to faster and shallower strokes. He moaned and pushed his inflamed cock relentlessly into her pussy, finally cumming inside her.
Collapsing on top of her, he kissed her neck softly. Once both of them were breathing normally again, he rolled off her and lay beside her on the bed. His arms came around her, molding her back to his front like a spoon. Weird as it may seem, this offered her a sense of security she desperately needed.
Josephine's face burned. For God's sake, how did—could—she become a wanton in Armand's arms? She was sure her face had turned a bright shade of red as images of their sexual activity flashed through her head. However, try as she might, she couldn't deny that it had happened, and galling as it may be, one sexual encounter with Armand Schmitt excelled all the others.
* * * *
An acute sense of loss invaded Josephine, awakening her from a deep and pleasant dream. Upon opening her eyes, she looked around the bedroom, aware of her naked body under the covers. The cream-colored walls and burgundy decorations around the room were initially not familiar.
Soon, memories of last night started to filter into her mind. She blushed, remembering her boldness in front of him. After the lovemaking session, a connection of some kind had sprung up between them, a connection she couldn't understand.
Sounds from somewhere caught her attention.
She sat up and focused, and eventually discovered them to be coming from the direction of the bathroom, with the light spilling from under the door. It couldn't be anyone in there but Armand.
She climbed out of bed and hurried toward her clothes, only to discover them damaged beyond repair. She couldn't remember him ripping them off, maybe because she was so lost in his arms, enjoying the experience and the sense of security he brought to the experience.
"I see you're up.” His deep voice called from the bathroom doorway, startling her and freezing her in place. She became self-conscious with her nakedness and tried to cover herself with the remnants of her dress.
"Yes, I am, as you see.” She cleared her throat at her rude words. She knew her fierceness would earn her nothing at the end, and she promised the kids they would still have a place to stay by Christmas. “I forgot something in our bargain."
He arched an eyebrow, questioning, as he crossed his arms and relaxed against the doorway. He had changed into jeans and shirt, but his feet were bare.
"I...” she stopped, swallowing and sitting on the bed for support. “I need to go and take a look at the children at least once a day. I promised them I wouldn't abandon them. I'll go during the times you're sleeping or something, so that you're not inconvenienced. But I don't want to let them down.” She noticed his features had tensed and wondered if he would refuse her request.
Armand moved toward the bedroom closet and took his tennis shoes. He felt the desire once more rushing through his blood, stirring him. He decided to ignore it completely, as he couldn't afford to be absent from his appointment this morning with his brother. He weighed that she'd be out-of-place in the meeting and decided to let her go wherever she needed. His mind screamed that she wouldn't be back, but something inside assured him to the contrary. “I'll leave you there and pick you up when I'm finished with my business dealings.” At her incredulous expression, he added, “The meeting is with my brother and the lawyers. It has been scheduled for over a week now. Your request was timely, since we usually delay over a month to be able to schedule something to fit our agendas."
Her face flushed, and he was delighted to see that she hated for him to read her so well, but the excitement of the impending visit proved irresistible, for she promptly looked for her clothes and went to take a shower. By the time she came out of the bathroom, Armand already had coffee and toasts ready. They sat in awkward silence as they shared breakfast.
"Want some?"
Armand blinked and looked up at her, startled. She was holding the carton of orange juice out to him, ready to pour into his glass should he agree.
He'd forgotten she was there. Her lack of chatter both surprised and comforted him. He wasn't a morning chat kind of guy and he knew it. “Sure.” The sight of her in washed blue jeans and an old t-shirt turned him on instantly. He'd never been attracted to any woman so easily, but for some strange reason, Josephine had that effect over him. He brushed his fingers against hers when she passed him the glass of juice and closed them over hers for a few seconds.
Something from within took hold of him, something different from lust.
* * * *
Josephine entered the building cheerfully while holding onto Armand's hand to show him the place. At the main door, she stopped and breathed in deeply. She mustered a big smile and opened the door. To Armand's surprise, though most of the kids came running toward her, all of them were crying uncontrollably.
Armand saw the reason for it at the end of the room. His brother and two of the investors were there, demanding to see Josephine. And Josephine was staring back at Frank, the brother who wasn't his twin but a close carbon copy, with deep anger in her eyes. From what he could see and hear, the men's manners and vocabulary were most inappropriate to use in front of children.
"Frank!” His baritone voice resounded on the walls, silencing the other voices and cries. Children of all ages, from toddlers to pre-adolescents, surrounded Josephine. At his shout, the men's fierce eyes turned toward him, their faces reflecting their surprise when they saw him. “I will ask only once, that you remove your presence from this room. You're not acting like a professional. This is not the way to solve things and I want you out of any dealings in this matter or anything regarding this building immediately.” His stern voice demanded, and the men moved to do his bidding.
Frank walked toward the main entrance where Armand stood, and as he passed by, he whispered in Armand's ear, “I noticed the bitch mesmerized you. I won't leave this alone. I'll meet you in an hour ... to discuss things.” He left.
Armand knew he not only humiliated his brother, but also took his authority away. He was reminded of his father, who liked to obtain everything by force and wou
ld do anything without thinking of the consequence. It was a bitter pill to swallow.
"Can you please hold him?” a female voice asked, awakening him from his daydream.
Armand looked up.
A plump woman barely five feet tall held a baby covered with warm blankets in her hands. The baby's round and red face captured his attention. He remembered the day his mother gave birth to Frank and put his little brother for the first time in his arms. The magic connection, lost in his youth, had enabled them to live in harmony for a few years.
The woman moved the baby toward him, and instinctively, he took the bundle in his arms. He looked at the woman and took in her features. Her gray hair was cut short and the wrinkles on her face enabled him to guess her age at over sixty. Still, the agility with which she moved and her strength to deal with so many children surprised him. The woman took Josephine's hands and directed her toward a room. He ignored where they were going when the baby in his arms burped softly.
Scared of damaging such a fragile thing, he searched for a safe place to lay the baby on. He noticed a big sofa at the end of the room filled with toys of all kinds and wondered how he could remove them without dropping the baby. Something tugged at his trousers, demanding his attention. A girl barely five years old sucked her thumb and looked insistently at him. He felt his throat constrict and his mind raced for ways to communicate with such a small person.
She took her thumb out of her mouth. “Me help!"
She extended her hand toward him and he, not knowing what else to do, took it. The twinkle in her eyes at his response brought a smile to his lips. She went to the sofa and removed the toys, sweeping them to the floor.
"Thank you, little miss.” Even to his ears, his words sounded awkward. The child just smiled and seated herself beside him, tucking her finger into her mouth once more. “What's your name?"
"Clare.” She said around the thumb in her mouth. “He Oscar.” She pointed to the sleepy baby in his arms.
"Thank you, Clare.” Armand wondered what else he could say to a child, but she took charge of the conversation. She talked incessantly and stopped only to breathe or to wait for an approving nod now and then.
Chapter Four
"You know I can't take babies here! Oh Margaret, what have you done?” Josephine cried. Her efforts would be in vain if authorities discovered a baby, a newborn baby, in the Children's Heaven. “What if those men did it on purpose? What if it's part of their scheme and they send the authorities here? Goodness, Margaret! You know better than I do."
Margaret's cheeks turned a bright shade of red. “I know, miss, and I'm sorry, but I didn't know what to do. I saw those poor mites and I couldn't turn them out in the streets. I'm relieved and thankful you came today. That young man you're with, he seems a good chap. I'm sure he'll help, I can feel it in my bones.” She clasped Josephine's hands in a reassuring grasp and dried Josephine's tears.
Josephine sniffed and squared her shoulders. “Right. What's done is done. Let's see how we can remedy the damage."
She left the kitchen and went toward the office. On her way there, she took a fast look at the main floor where she'd left Armand. She expected him to be gone by now. Surprisingly, he looked relaxed, more likely asleep with the baby in his arms, and Clare lying on his lap, sleeping as well. The scene spread unexpected warmth within her, leaving her breathless and teary-eyed.
She tore herself away and entered the office.
A woman with a still-lovely face despite the wrinkles placed there by time looked up from the spreadsheet she was working on. A welcoming smile wreathed her face. “Josephine, my dear girl—"
"Harriet,” Josephine cut her off, though she hated to, but time was of the essence. “the children—but I think you know what the problem is. I know this is out of procedure, but I need some money from the Christmas funds. Fast. I need to be out of here in a few seconds."
Harriet was Margaret's twin sister. Both women had taken care of her ever since her parents had died seventeen years ago.
Harriet got up and walked toward the safe, which was hidden at a far corner of the office. She removed two hundred dollars from a small cash box and handed it to Josephine, as well as an envelope. “Those children came with a letter. It may help.” She didn't have time to finish speaking as they heard police sirens in the distance.
"Thanks.” Josephine stuffed the money in her bag and pushed the letter back at Harriet. “Keep this in the safe. I'll read it when it's safe for me to come back.” She hurried out of the room and slung the bag containing the baby's things and the girl's bag on her shoulder. Somehow, both children being in Armand's company made things easier. She took Oscar from Armand's arms. “Take Clare and hurry. We need to go. Don't ask. Just drive, no matter what happens.” She hurried toward the exit, ran toward the car and got inside just in the nick of time so as not to be seen by the police car turning the corner.
Armand deposited the girl on the backseat and started driving, even as he was still struggling with the seatbelt. Finally, it snapped into place. “What's this about?” He demanded in a rough, bewildered tone.
"Margaret, my cook, took these kids in without my approval. A month ago, Clare was removed from our home by her father. Her mother was pregnant at the time, but she insisted on taking her daughter back. They were abusive parents, or more likely, Clare's father was. Yesterday afternoon, Clare was left on the door with her baby brother."
"I don't understand.” Even while driving without any sense of direction, he looked confident and sure of himself. “I also need to know where I'm driving to. May I remind you that I have a meeting in about twenty minutes?"
"I don't have Clare's custody any more, and I can't take babies by any means. That's the law and I must abide by it, no matter what. That's what I agreed to when I started this non-profit organization.” She turned her head to watch the busy streets. People walking with their children or pets were a good distraction sometimes, but, it would seem, not today.
"Why don't you return them to their parents?"
At his question, she turned a hard look toward him. “If I do, I'd be late in returning them. If I were here last night, I would have been able to do something, but not now."
The car screeched to a stop, and she was thrown against the seat belt, the baby clutched tight in her arms. Heart pounding, she turned her head, to see Armand's livid face.
"You're telling me that now you're a fugitive of justice, you're kidnapping these children and I'm your accomplice?"
She nodded.
"This is what I'll do,” he said in a furious whisper. “Listen well. I'll drive home, leave you and the children there and go meet my brother. When I came back home, I want you to be ready to tell me everything!"
* * * *
Armand was meeting Frank in one of the conference rooms of the company. On his way there, Armand noticed the echoing sound of his feet as he walked the empty hallways. The cubicles on his right were full of pictures and keepsakes of his employees, while the offices on his left reflected the personalities of its occupants. He thought of his bare office, which only contained his laptop and a few other personal items, as well as the paintings placed there by his interior decorator. Those things didn't mean anything to him, as they didn't reveal his true self. On the other hand, maybe his office was a reflection of himself—emptiness.
He also couldn't stop thinking of Josephine, about how she looked gloriously naked on his bed that morning. His cock tightened in response.
He knew it wouldn't be a good idea to think about her. Maybe he should turn his thoughts to more productive things, like the mess Josephine had found herself in and how he could help her. He remembered a friend—German Lewis—who still owed him a favor. Maybe he would collect the debt now.
He stopped short in front of the double doors, his thoughts surprising him with its tenacity on focusing on the image of the baby in Josephine's arms, with little Clare standing beside her, her small hand engulfed in Josephine's dainty, f
eminine one. That was how he'd left them when he'd stopped at his house earlier on. He smiled at the picture it presented—one of home and family. To his surprise, he realized that was what he wanted—a family. His need to establish a family was the primary reason he married Rebecca in the first place. If she'd lived, he could have had a little girl like Clare and a baby like Oscar. After all, they resembled his wife in their eyes—a soft blue color.
"I think we must close this deal without him. He gave you a power of attorney, giving you the right to sign on his behalf. Once the documents are signed, he'll have nothing to say in this matter.” The cold and rough voice of Kelvin McPherson, the Finance Director, floated through the doors inside the meeting room.
Surprisingly enough, of all the employees working for him, this is one person Armand couldn't stand. There was something about McPherson that Armand didn't trust, but he couldn't put a finger to it. He allowed McPherson to stay on in the company only because the other man had been in the company since it first started. His father had hired him, and so far, McPherson had done a beautiful job.
One hand on the doorknob, Armand hesitated in mid-turn and decided to wait a few more seconds.
"No! In this, I will not—cannot—do what you say, McPherson. I've been doing wrong things to him for years in business dealings, but he's my brother and this concerns him personally. I'm not such a loser as to make this serious decision behind his back,” Frank replied heatedly.
Armand suspected this meeting started awhile back.
"You've already failed him a number of times. Why not another?” Kelvin mocked, his voice louder than before.
"That's why I can't fail him again! And because this involves children. Because if you didn't notice, I tell you, those children matter to him. Especially one of them.” Frank paused. He continued in a more subdued voice, “I never told him Rebecca survived the accident and had a child. That child is the little girl we sent there yesterday. I only hope she didn't suffer. I've seen her grow up, and now that her mother is dead, I won't let anything happen to her. Nothing!"
