by Kim Karr
If only she’d open the freaking door.
It was five when I slid down the wall and decided to stop knocking and talk to the door instead. I just knew she was in there, and at least this way she’d hear what I had to say.
“Linds,” I said, “if you won’t open the door, then you’re forcing me to talk to you this way. So here it goes.”
I leaned my head toward the space between the door and its frame. “I did a poor job of explaining my family dynamics to you. That’s on me. What I didn’t tell you was that social status means everything to my mother, so much so that she allows my father his indiscretions as long as he keeps them discrete.”
The door panel dug in my back, and I repositioned myself. “I told you my father was on sabbatical. That wasn’t entirely true. Three months ago he took off with a younger woman and no one has heard from him since. His absence from society has been covered up quite easily as he is an eccentric man with a passion for painting and is known to take off on sabbaticals and pilgrimages to find inspiration. But that isn’t the truth. His paintings transpire only after his binges, as apologies to my mother. You see, he has a weakness for young models, and often disappears with them for months at a time. In the past he’s always returned before my mother started to lose it, but this is the longest he has been gone, and she’s not coping with it well.”
I cleared my throat, the truth about my parents burning as I swallowed it down. “That is no excuse for what she did today, but I hope it lends some perspective.”
Just then I heard a noise. I thought it might have been a sob. I also felt the door push against me, as if she too slid down and we were back to back.
I went on. “I thought I’d surprised my mother with the news. It sounds mean, but I knew it would keep her from devising a plan to sabotage the day. Unfortunately, I was wrong. Avery called this girl I used to see in the past, a girl my mother knows, and told her about us. She in turn called my mother. When my mother brought me in the kitchen, Emmy was there. Her and my mother tried to convince me I’d made a mistake. When I insisted I hadn’t, Emmy threatened to tell you all about me, things I wasn’t ready to share. Bad things. But now, I think you knowing would be better than hiding the truth. Like that I was addicted to drugs in college and partied with women, lots of women, at the same time, sometimes.”
I paused, trying to hear her breathing. I couldn’t, but I knew she was still there. “When the conversation went nowhere, my mother told me she had a migraine and was going upstairs to take one of her pills. That’s when Emmy stormed out onto the back terrace, threatening to make our life a living hell. I rushed after her, tried to reason with her. Telling her even if I wasn’t with you, I still wouldn’t be with her. Turns out it was a waste of my breath. It had been a set up. My mother never did go upstairs, but rather back to the living room to try to buy you off. Natasha heard the whole thing and came to tell me, but you were gone before I got back inside.”
The sound of a creaking floorboard alerted me that she’d stood.
I stood as well, and waited with a growing sense of dread when the door didn’t open. “Lindsay, unlock the door. I’m not leaving until we talk face to face.”
When there was still no answer, disappointment surged in my veins. That was not a common feeling for me, but if she thought I was going to give up, she was wrong.
The lock turned, but the door didn’t open.
I took that as a sign she was allowing me entry, and I slowly turned the knob. When I stepped inside, she as standing over by an open window.
Long red hair flowed down her back, and the ends lifted as they caught in the breeze. Her arms were hugged to her body. She was so delicate. Utterly feminine.
She’d changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top. It didn’t matter what she wore, she was just so beautiful, and the sight of her made my balls ache.
In that moment, I memorized every detail of her as she stood in the waning sunlight, right down to her bare toes.
As I stood motionless in the doorway captivated by her, a glint in the room caused my gaze to shift. There was a pile of items on the coffee table that separated us. It was everything I’d given her over the past forty-eight hours. The dress and shoes she’d worn for the photo that had never been taken, and the jewelry I’d given her to wear with it, along with the simple platinum band that matched the one on my left hand.
That made me insane.
My breath squeezed from my chest so tight it felt as though I was in a vice grip, but I had to keep my shit together.
And so I ignored it all and slowly strode toward her. “Are you all right?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” she said in a low voice. Then she pointed to the table. “Those things on the table are yours, please take them and go. I’ll sign whatever papers need to be signed to put an end to this charade.”
I stared at her, feeling utterly powerless. I hated and loved that feeling because this woman made me feel. Feel something more than the privilege I was born into. And there was no way I was letting her go without one hell of a fight. “I don’t want those things, I want you.”
Her lips trembled, but she held herself together, her gaze never faltering. “I’m not for sale.”
“I know that!”
“I don’t think you do.”
I huffed in a huge breath. “Did you hear what I said? I had no idea my mother would ever do anything like that. But I’m not my mother, just like you aren’t yours.”
That got her attention, and I knew it when I saw the tears glittering in her eyes. I didn’t want to upset her. I didn’t want to make her cry. But I needed her to understand I wasn’t giving up. Not then, not ever.
“Lindsay, baby,” I implored, “listen to me. I’m so sorry for what happened, but that one incident doesn’t define who we are.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Define us? What exactly defines us? The fact that we met and fucked each other within hours, and then got hitched? Or the stupidity behind thinking that two people who don’t even know each other should remain married because of some cosmic sexual connection?”
Adrenaline spiked, burning in my veins. I was going to lose her if I didn’t turn the conversation around. I reached for her hand and took it in mine. “Yes, those are the things that define us right now. But, baby, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s a start, and if you give me a chance I’ll prove to you that nothing about this is stupid. In fact, I guarantee you’ll find it quite brilliant.”
Her voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t think I can.”
With my free hand, I slid my fingers along her jaw and then traced the tip of one over her full lips. “Baby,” I said again. “Tell me why. Tell me what I have to do to convince you to give me another chance. And I’ll do it.”
She tried to dip her chin, but I wasn’t about to let her look away. I wanted to see every flicker of doubt in her eyes, and then reassure her she had no reason to doubt me. “James,” she said, “we come from two very different worlds, and that is something you can never change.”
Calm descended over me and I took control. “That’s not true. The minute you married me, our worlds merged. And like it or not, we’re a part of each other’s now, and there’s no changing that.”
Tears were shiny in her eyes and my heart squeezed as she fought them. “It’s not that simple.”
“But it is. You want me down on my knees to prove it?” I dropped to my knees. “Here, I’m on my knees begging you to give me another chance.”
She stared down at me with wide eyes. I took both her hands in mine as I met her gaze. “Lindsay, tell me you will. Don’t walk away from us. Not over my mother. Not over breeding or money.”
With a tug of my hands, she urged me to my feet. I went willingly, and once at my full height, I stared into her eyes. She swallowed hard as if she were nervous or maybe scared, and then I could feel her trembling beneath. I curled my fingers tighter around her hands to let her know I wasn’t letting her go, not without a
fight.
Panic clawed at my throat, and a helplessness I’d never felt washed over me. At that moment, I knew I had to give it one last shot. “If you are going to walk away, do it because you don’t want me, not because of things that don’t matter. If that is the case, Lindsay, tell me right now you don’t want me, and I’ll walk out that door.”
She closed her eyes and turned her face to the side. “I can’t tell you that.”
I felt weak with relief, and I cupped her cheek to thumb away the tears dripping down it. After a few moments, I turned and strode to the pile of things she’d put on the table and picked up her ring. With triumph raging in my veins, I closed the distance between us one final time. “Then you’ll put this ring back on, and never take it off.”
As I held the ring out to her, our gazes locked, and I saw hesitation in her brilliant green eyes. My gut tightened. I felt speechless, at a complete loss for words of what to say or do now.
But then her eyes warmed, chasing away some of the insecurity I was feeling. And when she smiled hesitantly, a sweet, shy smile, it made my knees go weak. “I’ll give you one month to prove that you are husband material, because after what happened today, I have some serious doubts. And if, after thirty days, things haven’t improved, or if I don’t feel we are compatible, then you have to let me go.”
I wasn’t even aware I’d been holding my breath until my lungs protested and burned. I sucked in air through my nose and stared at her. Never in my life had I had to prove myself to anyone. I had thoughts of going all caveman on her and carrying her over my shoulder back to my place, where I’d put her down on her knees, and wait for her to beg for me to allow her to suck my cock.
Yeah, but I knew that wouldn’t go over well.
My ego was taking one hell of a beating. And yet, it’s not like I had a choice. I took her hand and slid the ring back into place. “Baby, not only do you have a deal, but I guarantee you that at the end of those thirty days, you won’t even remember what your life was like before you had me in it.”
Her lips twitched, and I got a first real smile from her all day. “That’s a tall order, James Ashton, even for a man like you.”
She was flirting with me. In that shy, adorable way I’d come to crave in such a short period of time.
I’d never experienced such an intense surge of…excitement. It was lust. That was no secret. I wanted her like I’d never wanted anyone. But it was more. I wanted to know her. I wanted to take care of her. I wanted to make her mine. I grinned at her. “For a woman like you, Lindsay Ashton, I am willing to climb the highest mountain and swim the deepest sea.”
Now she laughed, and I wanted to eat that laugh up. “That is the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Oh, baby, that’s nothing,” I laughed. “I’m no Fred Flintstone, but I can still make your bed rock.”
She laughed and shook her head. I was only partially kidding. I was certainly ready to make the bed rock.
No, everything was not resolved. Yes, we had a lot to discuss. And yes, I had a lot of work ahead of me.
But it was a start.
I cupped her face in my both of my hands and kissed her lips. The feel of them pressed against mine making my balls ache all over again. It felt like centuries since I’d had her beneath me, and I wanted to feel my wife clenching around my cock in a way I hadn’t wanted anything that much in a long, long time.
As we kissed, I walked backward, pulling her with me. I dropped onto the sofa and tugged until she landed on my lap. Finally, we were face to face, chest to chest, and I couldn’t wait another minute to have her.
I surged forward, taking her mouth with mine. Our mouths melted with heat, and our tongues clashed wetly. This was what was going to insure we’d be together forever. I wasn’t quite sure why I wanted that, but all I knew was that I did. I wanted this woman forever.
I kissed her hungrily, my mouth moving hotly over hers as my hands roamed her sexy body. My cock was hard between us, sandwiched between our stomachs, and I wanted to free it. I reached down to unbutton her shorts and put my fingers in her wet channel, feel how hot she was for me, but she stopped me.
I pulled back and looked at her in confusion.
She put both her hands on my shoulders, and then blew out an unhappy sigh. “I think we should wait to have sex.”
Wait?
What?
I gritted my teeth. Was she serious? We were married for Christ’s sake. I thought that was supposed to mean endless pussy. Could I have been that wrong? “Say that part again,” I said.
“Until we both feel the time is right,” she went on to explain. “It’s just we moved so fast that we skipped over so much. I want this to work, James, and I think in order for that to happen, we can’t rely on just our sexual connection.”
For once in my life, I remained calm. She looked uneasy as she studied me for my reaction. I was careful not to give her one until I heard what else she had to say, because I wanted to shout that she was out of her fucking mind.
She slid her hands from my shoulders to my head and toyed with my short hair. “I’m not saying we can’t get to know each other’s bodies. I just want us to slow down and take things as they come.”
I blew out a breath in a long exhale, and my words were carefully chosen. “So you want me to woo you.”
She pursed her lips. “Not necessarily woo me,” she laughed. “I want us to get to know each other and work up to what’s natural.”
This didn’t please me. At all. But if I wanted to keep this woman, I knew I had to follow her rules. I was the one who had fucked up. Inhaling a deep breath, I leaned forward until our foreheads touched. “I’ve never really played the bases with a woman before, but I’m willing to give it a try. In return though, I want something from you.”
She shifted on top of me and moved her head just enough to look into my eyes. “I hadn’t really thought of this as a negotiation, but I am curious what that something might be.”
I ran my hands up her back beneath her tank top and felt her shiver under my touch. “That once I’ve proven to you I can be the husband you deserve, you’ll give yourself to me, fully. Trust in me that I know how to make you happy.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “You mean like submit to you?”
I quirked my lips. “No, not exactly. I’m not into that, per se. No paddles or whips or crops. But I want you to trust in me that I know what you need.”
This time she raised a brow. “You mean you want control.”
“Yes,” I admitted.
Slowly she nodded, and satisfaction, no triumph, gripped me. Then she said, “I’ll think about it,” and I narrowed my gaze. “I want to remain my own woman,” she explained.
“We’ll discuss it at a later date,” I murmured, and then I took her mouth once again, and allowed my hands to skate around to her breasts. I didn’t remove her bra, I figured that was against her rules. I just felt her body, wanting to learn what she liked, and what she really liked.
She moaned a little when I thumbed her nipples, and I couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across my face. That image I’d had earlier came back to mind. The one where I’d put her on her knees and waited for her to beg to suck my cock.
At the time I’d imagined it, I’d never thought it would actually happen. Now, I was really questioning it. I’d give her what she wanted. I’d prove myself to her and I’d take things slow. But I wouldn’t make it easy on her.
And if things went my way, she’d be begging me for more than just allowing her to suck my cock before that time was up.
All I had to do was endure a severe case of blue balls until then.
How hard could that be?
No pun intended.
Chapter 8
Who Cares What the Society Pages Say
James
You’d have thought I’d gotten arrested, not married.
Page Six was declaring one of the city’s most eligible bachelors had been taken off the market.
Seriously, didn’t they have anything newsworthy to report? I flipped the page, and then I wanted to stab it with my knife.
Right there in black white was a reprint of the Victoria’s Secret Christmas cover from last year, featuring none other than my wife in some sexy lingerie.
Christ, I hadn’t even seen her in anything like that, yet.
If it made me want to get up from my desk and go in the bathroom to jerk off right now, I knew others were actually fisting their way to orgasm as I was staring at her photo.
And if that didn’t make me want to kill everyone of them.
I wanted her to quit her job. I wanted her to stay home, barefoot and pregnant in my kitchen. Be domestic. Greet me at the door after work with a drink and a kiss, perhaps naked once in awhile. I was such a caveman.
“James?” Lindsay prompted, taking the paper from my hands.
I stood and took her in. Tall, in her heeled booties, she stood at equal height with me. Her red hair was long and hung in loose waves down past her shoulders. And her legs looked a mile long. She wore a short, tight red dress with black fishnet stockings. And I had to bite my fist to control my urge to fuck her.
It had been five days since the gauntlet on the no sex dropped. I’d spent a lot of time running myself to exhaustion both before and after work, and taking cold showers. Before I married her, it wasn’t like I was getting some every night, but I also didn’t have the tease of a hot, sexy body wandering around my place making me hard all the time either.
The days were easier because I was at work, where I actually got what I wanted. Lindsay wasn’t working that week, so she spent her days roaming the Upper East Side and going back and forth between her place and mine. She refused to let me hire movers. She thought we should wait. Trying to prove myself husband material, I didn’t pressure her. However, each day I noticed something else of hers had made its way to Fifth Avenue. Slowly, her walls were lowering, and I was climbing up them.
