“I love you too.” He looked perplexed, but then his face broke out into a full smile again, like a kid in a cookie jar. “Two minutes.”
So she was close. It wouldn’t be long.
By the time Libby had undressed and put on the robe, she stood by the bed, unsure of how to arrange herself on it. How did you present yourself to your boyfriend’s other girl? The woman he wanted to bring into your bed, into your relationship?
Suddenly, the idea of another woman made the room seem small, suffocating. She leaned down, practically fell onto the bed as the start of what had to be a panic attack hit her. Grasping her chest, she focused on her breathing to calm it. Hearing him approach the door, she froze, puzzled, as she only heard one set of footsteps. No click of heels across the linoleum. No soft whispers.
Henry entered alone, carrying a cafeteria tray with two books on it. Coming to where she sat on the bed, he knelt on the floor in front of her.
Libby sat, still panicked, gasping for breath, looking behind him, sure that Toni Franklin would appear with that sultry smile, a throaty laugh.
“Libs…” Henry swallowed, holding the tray out, and she looked down, finally seeing.
The two books were the ones from the library, Teaching Kids to Read for Dummies and The Idiot’s Guide to the Kama Sutra. The former was the book he’d come in looking for that first day, and the latter was the one Libby had pulled from the shelves for him with his transposed call numbers.
“Where did you get these?” They were the actual library books, with the call numbers on the side. “I was looking for them the other day. You had them?”
“Yep.” He smiled. “Open this one. Check the old card pocket.”
He tapped his finger on the yellow and black cover of Teaching Kids to Read for Dummies.
With a shaky hand, she slowly opened the cover. Would it be a letter? Toni’s phone number? What could this possibly be about? When would he ask her for his fantasy?
Nestled in the card pocket was a folded piece of paper.
“Make my greatest fantasy come true,” she read aloud. So this was it. Tears blurred her vision as she looked up at him. “What’s your greatest fantasy, Henry?”
“You.”
She swallowed. “And?”
“Just you.” He put the tray aside, taking her hand in his. “You’re my greatest fantasy. Libby, I love you. Will you be my wife, the one and only woman I want to spend the rest of my life with—heart, body and soul?"
“What?” She couldn’t quite believe it. Was she hearing him right? “Are you… do you mean it?”
“Did you ever doubt it?”
She shook her head, afraid to admit that yes, she had. She had doubted. But she didn’t anymore.
“Yes,” she choked out. “Yes! Yes!”
“Then open the other book and reach into that card pocket,” he instructed as he wiped at her tears. They were falling fast now, making everything a blur.
In the card pocket of the other book, she found a ring.
Not just any ring. She recognized it, even though her hand shook as she held it up to the light.
“Your mother was wearing this,” Libby whispered. “When we were there, over New Year’s…”
“It’s a family ring.” He smiled. “You’re going to be my family now.”
“Oh Henry.” She put her arms around him, crying and laughing at the same time. She let him slip it on her finger, a perfect fit. “I’m so stupid. Oh Henry, I’m a complete idiot.”
She buried her face against his neck, still crying and laughing.
“What’s the matter?” He looked at her, cocking his head. “Are you okay?”
“I thought—” She gave a strangled half-snort and gulped. “I thought you were going to ask… I thought you wanted to include Toni. In our relationship. I thought your fantasy was to bring her into our bed.”
“What?” Henry gaped at her, wide-eyed. “Where in the world did you get that idea?”
“I heard you talking to her the other day when I stopped by her office to walk home with you,” she confessed, face reddening at the memory. She’d put two and two together all right. But she’d come up with the complete wrong answer. “You thanked her for helping with my surprise. I thought you… I was sure you wanted a polyamorous relationship like your parents.”
“What?” Henry let out a little laugh. “You really let that whole thing go to your head, didn’t you?”
He shoved the tray aside so he could climb up on the bed, pulling her into his lap.
“I’m so stupid.” Libby sniffed, putting her arms around his neck, frowning. “But I really thought… what did Toni do? To help with my surprise?”
“We left in such a rush after New Year’s I forgot the ring,” he admitted sheepishly. “Toni was going back there, to finalize the sale of her house. Toni picked it up for me, that’s all.”
“Really?” Libby brightened, all doubt finally fleeing her mind.
“Really,” he assured her, pressing his forehead to hers. “Libby, I only want you. I love you. And, my fantasy this Valentine’s Day, is to make love to you as my fiancée.”
Her heart nearly stopped at his words before it began thudding fast and hard in her chest as he pulled her into him and kissed her like he’d never kissed her before. All the clichés of Valentine’s Day went off in her head like fireworks—poetry and love songs, hearts and flowers—and she understood every single one of them as she kissed her future husband, a man she didn’t want to and wouldn’t ever have to share.
His Valentine’s Day fantasy was better than she could ever have imagined.
He was hers.
###
About the Author
Selena Kitt
GET FIVE FREE READS! http://selenakitt.com/index.php/newsletter
Selena Kitt is a NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING & AWARD WINNING AUTHOR of erotica and erotic romance fiction. She is one of the highest selling erotic writers in the business with over a million books sold!
Her writing embodies everything from the spicy to the scandalous, but watch out-this kitty also has sharp claws and her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.
When she's not pawing away at her keyboard, Selena runs an innovative publishing company (www.excessica.com) and in her spare time, she devotes herself to her family--a husband and four children--and her growing organic garden.
Her books EcoErotica (2009), The Real Mother Goose (2010) and Heidi and the Kaiser (2011) were all Epic Award Finalists. Her only gay male romance, Second Chance, won the Epic Award in Erotica in 2011. Her story, Connections, was one of the runners-up for the 2006 Rauxa Prize, given annually to an erotic short story of "exceptional literary quality," out of over 1,000 nominees, where awards are judged by a select jury and all entries are read "blind" (without author's name available.)
She can be reached on her website at www.selenakitt.com
Also from Selena Kitt
Baumgartners Boxed Set: What do you get in Baumgartners Box Set 1?
Babysitting the Baumgartners - an Amazon Top 100 Bestseller!
A Baumgartner Reunion
Baumgartner Generations: Henry
Babysitting the Baumgartners
Ronnie--or as Mrs. Baumgartner insists on calling her, Veronica--has been sitting for the Baumgartners so long she has practically become another member of the family. When the Baumgartners make her an offer she can't refuse, Ronnie jumps at the chance to work on her tan in the Florida Keys with "Doc" and "Mrs. B" under the pretense of watching the kids. Ronnie isn't the only one with ulterior motives, though, and she discovers that the Baumgartners have wayward plans for her. This wicked hot sun and sand coming of age story will seduce you as quickly as the Baumgartners seduce Ronnie and leave everyone yearning for more!
A Baumgartner Reunion
Ronnie (or "Veronica" as Mrs. B always insisted on calling her) is all grown up with a family of her own, and the Christmas she sa
t for the Baumgartners is just a pinpoint in her memory. That is, until a persistent suggestion of a three way by her husband, T.J., brings it all flooding back. When she reveals how the Baumgartners had seduced her during her time in Key West, her husband takes it upon himself to make some phone calls. Opportunity, or perhaps fate, presents itself, and Ronnie and her husband get an invitation to join the Baumgartners on their vacation. Ronnie finds herself torn, once again, between what she wants and what someone else wants for her--or are they, after all, one in the same?
Baumgartner Generations: Henry
Henry's in trouble. He's gone from being a big fish in a little pond in his home town to being a very small fish in a much bigger pond and he's just not keeping up. Instead of passing him through his classes because of his athletic ability like they did in high school, he discovers his professors actually mean it when they say he needs to do the work or he's going to fail his classes--and be kicked off the all-star hockey team. Adjusting to life at university sure isn't as easy or fun as he thought it was going to be--his roommate likes the same girl he does, and it looks like she likes him, too; he's failing English for sure and the dragon-lady who teaches the class seems to have a personal vendetta against him; and his hockey coach has even gone so far as to bench him! When his parents hire him a tutor, he turns to this angel of mercy for help, but little does he realize that Mrs. Toni Franklin is going to complicate his life in ways he never could have foreseen...
The Scandalous Le
tters of Lady X - 1 – Anne Knight
About This Book
The Duke of Knox is teaching the proper Marchioness of Xavier about the secret sexual world of England’s elite ton. She’s sharing her tale with her best friend and sometimes sex partner in a series of letters. In this first instalment, Lady X explores the world of voyeurism, watching and learning from a steamy ménage a trois that leads to her own unprotected acts of carnal desire.
*****
2 February, 1835
London
My dearest Kit,
I arrived in London two days ago and meant to write without delay, however, as suspected, the Duke of Knox paid a visit without delay. Your ability to predict that man’s every action remains a mystery to me. However, my dear friend, even you could not image the depths of depravity that he has awakened in me.
I shall do as you asked of me when we parted and write to you of the deeds that have transpired between Knox and I, but I beg of you, please keep these letters in the safest of places. It would not do for anyone other than you to read what I shall endeavour to share with you in the following pages.
Be warned. The events I have to share with you are far from the sweet and tender games you and I have played together since our childhood days. Of course I trust no other with my body and secrets the way I trust you, but there is something about him that makes me wonder if perhaps there is another side of my passionate nature that I had not realized I desired.
Oh, my hands shake as I prepare to tell you of what has happened. I picture you resting in your bed of supplest silk, perhaps unclothed, as you read this. I wonder if you shall touch yourself as I was touched? Or shall you ban me from your life once you understand the way my world has changed these past nights?
Anon. Enough with the delay. I must tell you, for if I do not, then there is no one to whom I can share my thoughts with on this. And darling Kit, I must tell someone.
Let me begin with my arrival back in this terrible, dirty city. London may have its merits, but whenever I return here after living so long in the fresh air of Somersetshire, I cannot help but wonder if we become morally corrupt because of the air we breathe. Perhaps that’s why I was so willing to play his games. But no. I must not blame anything other than my own desire. My own willingness to go where he led. To love what he lavished upon me.
There were invitations to three suppers waiting for me. Truth be told, I would have responded to the invitation from our dear Lady Smythe had not there been a simple note from the Duke also waiting.
If you could see the bold stroke with which he writes. His penmanship is as much a command as his words. It was simple, yet direct.
*****
Lady Xavier, You have had your month to think. If you intend to act, it begins tonight. Tell Allen you will attend. Prove me wrong. Yours. Knox.
*****
Should you wonder who Allen is, think back to that summer at Bougton and a certain soon-to-be earl with the most devilish blonde curls. His eyes are even more blue now than they were that July and his body has grown to fit the height that once seemed gangly. There is nothing now about his form other than brute strength. I thought of you often at supper when he spoke to me.
But I get ahead of myself.
I confess that I did have a moment of doubt as I dressed for the evening. It was your words that gave me the courage to go. Do you recall what you said as we sat in the garden?
“You owe it to yourself to feel pleasure. No woman deserves the fate your father sold you to. Embrace the freedom of being a widow. No one can judge you now. And surely, anyone who knew of old Xavier’s deficiencies [a kind word you used there] would heartily approve.”
Thank you, my friend, for reminding me of that. For reminding me of the way my life stopped four years hence, and for reminding me that I now have the chance to live again, even if only behind closed doors.
So I put on that gown you insisted I have made. The golden silk with the navy. You were right. It is both scandalous and saintly, if such a thing is possible. It’s the sort of gown women notice only for the luxury and men for the promise of seduction. Your taste in these matters is always impeccable. I can assure you that in that dining room of forty, I was the only lady there neither wearing the pale hues of maidenhood nor the darker hues of matrimony. If your intention was for me to brand myself as other, then I think we have succeeded.
I arrived before Knox and in my nervousness at seeing him again, had perhaps a little too much pre-dinner libations. Yet, it helped still my nerves. Lady Allen was a gracious hostess, and introduced me to her nephew, Jenner, a dashing young lieutenant in the Royal Navy. He’s scarcely out of his childhood years, I’m sure. His face is still unmarked by time or worry and there’s something mischievously boyish in his eyes. I was talking to him about the French war when the Duke arrived.
I cannot begin to tell you how the mood of the room shifts for me the instant he is near. It is as if I cannot breathe. The sheer maleness of him overpowers every other man in the room.
He wore the new style of trousers, which I attest are tighter than respectable. But I have no true complaint, for he fills them in the best possible way.
Were it not for his coat, I am positive I would have seen the outline of his cock. Oh, Kit, I’m blushing at writing that word. Must I use it? I know you were specific in the words you wanted me to use should I have need to tell you of this, but it is hard for me.
Still, I find looking at it on the page makes me feel warm and breathless. Cock. It is a cumbersome word to write. And yet, seeing it written in my hand, with this bold ink, is empowering. Perhaps I can manage with your vocabulary after all.
When he entered the room, I had to hold myself back, so badly did I want to be near him. Nothing the young lieutenant said could hold my attention, as I watched him make the rounds, wondering when he would come to me.
I’ll admit to jealously as he lingered overlong with certain young ladies, all giggles and youthful curls. And then, he was there.
“My lady,” he said to me, as he took my hand.
“Your grace,” I replied.
“It is a pleasure to see you have returned from the wilds of the country unscathed. Indeed, I believe you are more beautiful now than when you left.”
His bold speech in front of the lieutenant made me blush.
“I see you’ve now met our marchioness,” he said to the young man. Our marchioness; as if I were a piece of property to be bandied betwixt them.
“I
ndeed, I have. Allow me to say, Lady Xavier, that while the Duke of Knox tried to do your beauty a great justice, he failed to capture it completely.”
What could I do then, but drink deeply? There were no polite words I could think of. Such blatant flattery is uncomfortable for me.
Shortly thereafter we were called to dine. Knox and I went in together, being the highest ranking members of the peerage present.
I was seated between him and our host, the Earl of Allen, and never a more reckless supper have I participated in. Extravagance was the motto of the meal. Although, by midway though the soup course, I stopped paying attention to the food.
“I’m to take it by your attendance then, that you’ve decided to play my game?”
His game. The way he said it made my inner core quicken.
I remembered how you and I had practiced this moment. I leaned a little closer to him, met his eyes, and without breaking my gaze replied, “It is a game I intend to win, your grace.”
His laugh drew the gaze of many, but we both ignored their stares.
“As do I, my dear.”
Then, as if there were no more a natural place for it, he slid his hand boldly under the table and caressed my leg. Even through the layers of my gown and petticoats the strength of his hand caused my breath to catch.
As if I were a cat following a ribbon, my hand went to his leg. That surprised him, I know, for he arched one dark brow at me.
“I see you haven’t forgotten my lesson from our last supper together.”
Oh how I tried not to blush at that memory. But still, I know my face reddened.
“Oh come, my lady. There’s no need for that. Supper flirtation is expected between us. Why disappoint the room when everyone here knows you are the most beautiful woman in attendance and I the most eligible male?”
Modesty is not one of his gifts, regardless of how accurate his assessment.
I Love It: 10 Intense Stories to Keep the Passion Alive (Shameless Book Bundles 6) Page 5
