Maison Plaisir

by Lizzie Lynn Lee

  “I can’t stand hot peppers.”

  “Then why did your mother say you love Thai food?”

  “I don’t. She served it because she knows I hated it.”

  “Charming woman.”

  “Can’t argue with that.”

  “Has she always been that way?”

  Belle paused for a moment. “I guess so. But she got worse after my father died.”

  So Arthur Beaumont had died. “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t be. I’m much happier now I live by myself.”

  He wanted to know more about her, but he refrained from asking too many questions. She’d had enough unpleasantness for the night. “Want to have a real dinner?”

  “Sure.”

  “What are you in the mood for? I know an excellent restaurant, Alinea. It’s only a forty-five-minute drive from here.”

  “That fancy place? Don’t you need a reservation for months before or something?”

  “I know somebody I could bribe.”

  Her smile widened. “I’m actually in the mood for low-brow stuff.”

  “Oh?”

  “Foot-long hotdog with sauerkraut at Jimmy’s.”

  “Then hotdogs it is.”

  “I’m a cheap date, aren’t I?”

  Hervé laughed. He didn’t expect to see the humorous side of her. Or her humility. Isabelle Beaumont intrigued him more by the minute. The hell he would surrender his claim to Armand.

  Not this time.

  Belle ate her hotdog with gusto. It was loaded with ketchup, mayo, relish, and tons of sauerkraut—it almost overfilled the bun. She put layers of napkins on her lap to catch any dripping from her fingers. She didn’t want to make a mess in Hervé’s expensive car.

  Jimmy’s Hotdog Heaven was rather deserted from the rain. They parked a few feet from the shoddy roadside stand. The hotdog was her main diet when she left home because it was the only thing she could afford. Her mother had cut her off from her allowance as a way of controlling her. But her mother had never guessed Belle was determined to never come back. Luckily, Belle had a little savings that allowed her to rent a cheap apartment for a few months until she got everything sorted out. She dropped out from the private institute she’d attended with her sisters, and traded it with night school so she could work full-time during the day. Usually, right after class, she stopped at Jimmy’s to eat her dinner, breakfast, and sometimes lunch combined. She saved a great deal of money that way.

  Hervé ate his hotdog without being finicky. Belle was surprised he would actually eat such peasant food. A guy like him must be accustomed to eating only the best of the best from gold-trimmed china and drinking a bottle of wine that cost a week’s wage for ordinary people. Belle hoped the hotdog wouldn’t give him a stomach upset afterwards.

  “How was it?” she asked Hervé.

  “Interesting.” Hervé chewed his food with a serious face. “I’ve never thought the saltiness of the meat complimented the sourness of the fermented cabbage nicely.”

  At least he didn’t try to lie. Belle appreciated his honesty. “Have you eaten this before?”

  “I can’t recall. I might have, but I can’t be sure. Is this your favourite food?”

  “You can say that.”

  “What else do you like?”

  “What I like? Food? Oh, I’m easy. I eat everything—well, except spicy stuff that burns my mouth.”

  “I see that. What do you do in your spare time?”

  “Work or studying. I’m boring, aren’t I?”

  Hervé set down his half-eaten dog and regarded her thoughtfully. “You just don’t find time to indulge yourself. You’ve been working very hard since you were young.”

  “Starvation is a great motivator,” Belle joked, but Hervé didn’t laugh with her. Instead, he stared at her with great concern.

  “You didn’t deserve such hardship,” Hervé muttered, wiping his hands with his napkins. “I feel like I didn’t treat you well tonight. How about dinner, tomorrow? Same time?”

  “You mean, like another date?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m taken with you, Belle. I’d be honoured if you allow me a chance to get to know you better…”

  Belle pondered. “Wouldn’t it better if I paid you your price and left it at that? A night of pleasure, just like I paid Armand?”

  “I didn’t volunteer as my cousin’s replacement because I wanted to sleep with you.”

  “So what you did for me tonight is a freebie?”

  A faint smile hovered on the corner of his lips. “I’m a man and I love sex. But I want more than just sex. I want a relationship.”

  She was flattered of his intention, but at the same time, it made her wary. She didn’t need a lover. She was content on her own, living her simple, uncomplicated life. Men came and went. Especially good-looking ones like Hervé or Armand. Considering the promise he’d made, Armand still blackballed her. And she thought they had shared something special, something magical. Guess she was wrong. Belle cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I’m not ready for one.”

  Hervé fell into silence. “Do you like Armand better?”

  She was startled. “Your cousin’s blackballing me. I don’t think I’m his best interest at the moment.”

  Something flashed in Hervé’s eyes.

  “Let’s get this over with. My place or yours? Or do you want to call this even?”

  “You need me. Your family know I’m your boyfriend.”

  “Actually, I don’t care about it anymore.” Belle drew a long breath, suppressing her anger that her mother had hatched a devious plan to get her under her thumb again. Belle realised why her mother also invited Trent to the dinner party. Knowing she wasn’t very social, her mother and her sisters wanted to ridicule her boyfriend and pressure her to accept the engagement with Trent. Only they didn’t expect she would show up with someone like Hervé, who happened to be a significant somebody in the rich socialites’ circle.

  Hervé was right. This whole thing must be a sham. After cold-heartedly dumping her years ago, why would Trent suddenly agree to be her fiancé? Her best guess was this was nothing but her sisters’ prank. Clara and Sarah must have been bored, and they couldn’t help themselves planning a nice trick for a good laugh. Trent had lost a wager to them before. She wouldn’t be surprised if it had happened again, and this time, it involved their mother, too.

  But she wouldn’t fall into their game again. She wouldn’t care if her mother got mad because she disobeyed her. She was an adult now, and she had a nice life she’d achieved without her family’s help. Her mother couldn’t tell her what she could or could not do any more.

  And as for Hervé, Belle thought it best if she settled her debt and returned to her quiet life. A guy like him didn’t fit into her future. Not in a million years. If his cousin could blackball her after everything he’d promised, there was no guarantee Hervé wouldn’t do the same thing. She held Hervé’s gaze evenly. “I don’t want to continue this charade anymore.”

  “You’re going to accept your engagement with Trent?” Hervé’s voice sounded as scandalised as the expression on his face.

  “Hell no! Not even when hell freezes over. I’m going to tell my mother to leave me alone from now.”

  “You’re really going to do that?”

  “I can’t run away forever, can I? I must stand up for myself and not let her walk all over me ever again. I’ve been a coward all these years.”

  “You’re not a coward.”

  Belle sniffed. She hadn’t been anything but. “So. Should we call this even, then?”

  It took him a while to answer. Hervé finally tore his gaze from her and cleaned the remnants of the hotdog, putting them all in the paper bag that came with it. “My place.”

  His place it is.

  Chapter Four

  The air between them changed right after she agreed to give her body to Hervé for the night. There was a tension, si
lent and tight like an overly stretched harp string waiting to snap. Belle stole a glance at him. Hervé looked serious and determined as he slammed on the gas on his ultra-expensive car, driving home like a NASCAR racer. What did I do? Is he mad at me because I wasn’t interested in becoming his girlfriend?

  His lips thinned into a grim line as he stopped at the traffic light. His eyes caught hers. The shimmering glimmer was back. The unsettling aura. His eyes looked luminous, like the first time she saw him in Maison Plaisir.

  “My cousin wants you badly, love. And so do I. I’ll take what was meant to be mine tonight, but don’t ask me to back away that easy,” he told her.

  Armand wants me? Belle found it peculiar. If he really wants me, then why can’t he keep himself sober? “What did you see in me, anyway?” she murmured. “I’m nobody.”

  The light went green. Hervé hit the pedal. “On the contrary, I see a lot in you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be bothered in chasing you. Trust me, I don’t usually do this.”

  Oh, Belle believed him. A guy like Hervé was practically a chick magnet. He could dress in rags and drive a half-wrecked car and chicks would still be all over him. What she didn’t understand was why he wanted her in the first place? Was he jealous because his cousin had had some and he hadn’t?

  Hervé glanced at her. His face looked stern. “I’m not like Trent, if that’s what you were afraid of.”

  “I don’t think you are.”

  “But you were thinking about it.”

  A sliver of guilt skated through her. “How did you know? Are you a mind reader?”

  “Love, you’d be surprised what I’m capable of.”

  Hah. A man of mystery. Belle slipped into a quiet mood for the rest of the drive, thinking about what Hervé had said. It just didn’t make sense. Why Hervé and Armand were fighting over her? It almost sounded like a bad joke. At least, her sisters would think so. Two extremely hot guys. Competing over her. Yeah, right. She decided that Hervé probably wanted to humour her after the botched dinner party. He knew how rattled she was from the whole ordeal. About her mother’s scheme and Trent.

  After exiting the loop, they drove about an hour across the state line to Winnetka. Apparently, Hervé owned a house in one of the most prestigious neighbourhoods in the outskirts of Chicago. House was such an understatement. His place dwarfed her family mansion tenfold. Hervé’s guards greeted them by the front gate. She looked around with awe. Hervé’s mansion was exactly the place her mother and sisters had always wanted to live in.

  For years, one of her mother’s chief complaints was that the family hadn’t been able to afford to live here because Arthur Beaumont had been too stupid managing his investments and selfishly died too soon, neglecting all of them. Of course, the blame would finally shift to Belle for being the bad omen in the family. Her father had committed suicide when she was only five years old. Sometimes, Belle wondered what she could possibly have done to drive her father to his untimely demise. She barely remembered her father, let alone being the sole cause of his death.

  Belle clutched the hem of her dress as Hervé parked near the front steps of his mansion. She waited to see if the prospect of sleeping with Hervé would make her anxious like the night she’d agreed to spend with Armand. No. She didn’t feel nervous at all. Actually, she was looking forward to it.

  God, what the hell is wrong with me? I’m acting like a nympho.

  Hervé stopped the car and watched her for a few beats before he decided to wrap an arm around her shoulder and find her lips. Belle tensed, and then melted in his arms. The kiss was sweet, yet scorching at the same time. Pure heat surged through her. Her nipples hardened. Panties dampened.

  He traced her lips with the tip of his tongue. Sparks of pleasure fluttered beneath her skin. A low growl escaped from his throat. Hervé held her face. Her heart skipped a beat when his tongue slipped into the cavern of her mouth. He claimed her with feral force. A shock of tremors swept through her. The kiss was so mind-muddying that when Hervé parted his lips, Belle lolled in his arms like a drunkard. Her pussy felt heavy and aching. Every fibre of her being screamed with manic need. Need to be touched. Need to be fucked.

  Belle didn’t recall how exactly she got from the car and into the mansion. But she remembered each step she took seemed like an arduous effort. Hervé squeezed her hand as he led her to the second floor, and into what seemed to be his bedroom. He didn’t bother to close the door either. The moment they were inside, he pulled her into his arms and wedged her between the bed and his hard body. He kissed her again. Long. Deep. Greedy. His fingers threaded through her hair. He found the hair clips and plucked them off, letting her hair fall onto her shoulders. The kissing didn’t falter as he removed her clothing.

  Belle shivered with heat. Hervé broke the kiss just as he was about to remove her panties. His eyes blazed with fire. She heard the fabric tear. Her panties. He’d yanked them off brutally.

  “Hey,” she managed to protest. “They’re new.”

  “I’ll buy you new ones. Hell, I’ll buy you the whole store.” Hervé slid his hands on her buttocks and lifted her onto the bed.

  Belle couldn’t help grinning. “The whole store?”

  “For you, love, anything.” Hervé mauled her lips.

  She tumbled down the bed as he assaulted her with more mind-muddying kisses. His hands were all over her. Those large, masculine hands that were surprisingly rough considering who he was, caressed her naked, fevered skin. He nipped her jawline. The hollow of her throat. Engulfed her earlobe and sucked it until she felt dizzy from the sensation. Her pussy clenched and more sexual liquid seeped from her centre.

  His hand tightened around her breast. Fingers found her nipple. Plucked it, pinched and rolled it. Belle heaved between the kisses. Shots of liquid fire lanced through her sex. Hervé licked her lips as his hand found the source of her ache. The touch was gentle, but the impact sent her body burning.

  “Love, you’re wet already.” His voice was a mixture of amusement and pleasure.

  Belle gasped when he parted her curls and slipped a finger between her slick folds. He caressed along the puffy lips. Tickled. Teased. She clutched the collar of his shirt when Hervé pushed his finger inside her.

  She mewled as the rings of her muscles enclosed the intruding finger. Hervé stroked deeper until the pad of his palm mashed against her vulva.

  “I want to see you come.” His voice became huskier than usual. More throaty. “I’ve wanted to have you like this since the first time I saw you.” He rubbed her slowly at first, then quicker as he found a rhythm. Her pussy made a slick, wet sound. He pecked a satisfactory kiss on her lips. “Oh, love, look at you. So wet, hot and tight. I can’t wait to fuck you. But I want to see you come first.”

  Belle gulped a lungful of air. Hervé curved his finger upwards and it hit a special spot that sent her mind reeling. “Shit!” She tensed. He barely rubbed her a dozen strokes when a hot, knife-sharp orgasm tore through her. She threw her head back, calling his name. Her spine kinked. Toes curled from pleasure.

  Her breath was ragged when she swam back into reality. Hervé was watching her the whole time, looking utterly pleased.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “I love watching you come.”

  His praise made her bubbly. Belle grabbed his hair and plastered a deep, starving kiss on his mouth. Hervé reciprocated, ambushing her with the same heat. “Take off my shirt,” he told her between the kisses.

  Belle let go of his hair and worked on his buttons. Her fingers trembled as she undid the first button. The last wave of ecstasy had barely ebbed away, but the way Hervé kept stroking her pussy made new pleasure gather fast like an impending thunderstorm.

  “Damn, love, you’re so fucking wet. I love it,” he cooed.

  She pulled his shirt from his pants and ripped open the last button.

  “My belt and my pants too.”

  Belle unclasped his belt impatiently. His bulge was impressive. His straine
d cock felt so hard when she groped him. She unconsciously swallowed hard again. Heart skipped a beat. God. Hervé was enormous. She unbuttoned his pants and slid down his zipper. Snaking a hand between the openings of his pants, she felt him. His cock lurched at her very touch, pulsing under his briefs.

  “Take it out,” Hervé croaked.

  She didn’t need any encouragement. She had been curious like a fickle, little kitten. Belle crooked her fingers on his waistband and slid it down past his bulging erection. She craned her neck forward, peeking at his groin. Her heart did a tap dance. Hervé was as big as she felt earlier. Thick, almost alarmingly fat, with a huge tip. He wasn’t as long as Armand, but the lack of it was made up by his girth. Her head filled with dizzying thoughts. God. Am I going to be able to…?

  “Touch me,” he commanded.

  Her hands flew to his cock before she fully comprehended his order. It almost felt liked an instinct. “Fuck,” she sighed. His cock felt hot in her hands. Hard and unsated. She squeezed him, marvelling at her newfound toy. Hervé’s breath stalled, a moan curling out from his throat. Belle swooped her palm along his length and brushed a thumb over his cockhead. He leaked precum. Wet, just like her.

  “Fuck, Belle.” Hervé’s Adam’s apple bobbed. For a moment, he trembled. He withdrew his finger from her cunt. “Rub my head on your pussy. I want to feel you before I take you.”

  Oh my. Belle grabbed his shaft and pressed it to her groin. He was so hard it felt impossible for a moment. But he yielded. Her pussy contracted the moment their flesh made contact. Burst of heat spiralled up the length of her spine. More sexual liquid seeped from her.

  Hervé held her face while she rubbed the blunt tip on her pussy lips, forcing her to look at him as she did his bidding. Belle felt drowned under his penetrating gaze. “Good. Keep the pace.” He let go of her hand and snaked his hand on her thighs. He stopped her for a moment. His fingers were on her sex, parting her nether lips. “Rub me again.”

  She did it. The maddening sensation overcame her senses. That inner part of her body felt so sensitive. The friction, gentle as it was, sent a shiver of fire through her being. Her eyes flew wide in disbelief.