by Carrie Kelly
Thick digits stroked my covered mound and shivers traveled up my spine and down my legs. Good thing I already leaned against the sink. Otherwise, I’d have pooled on the floor with the rest of my resolve.
“Mm. So wet, Mattie. Wish I could have a taste,” he groaned and slipped the lace aside.
“Ah,” I gasped as his finger slid over my swollen lips and clit. The calloused tip of his thick digit rubbed my eager flesh softly. Each gentle circular stoke lifted me to a new elevation of pleasure.
“Wait, please,” I begged, but my body betrayed my brain.
I opened my legs wider, allowing him deeper access as his mouth explored my chest.
Then a slick finger eased into my aching pussy. The walls of my sex squeezed him tight as he urged it in and out, his palm still rubbing the sensitive nub of my clit. Each stroke and thrust thrilled my over stimulated body.
Part of my brain couldn’t believe this was happening while the other part panicked with what it meant.
Lips traveled up my collarbone and over my neck once again. Each kiss as sweet and delicate as the wings of a butterfly. When his mouth met mine, fireworks exploded in my cunt. I raised my hips into his fingers and moaned around his succulent tongue.
My whole being trembled at the intensity of the orgasm, and I held onto his shoulders to keep myself from falling to the bathroom floor. My pussy gripped his fingers with hungry urgency, and he slipped them out and slid my panties back into place.
“You all right, love?” he whispered in my ear.
“Yes. Fine. You shouldn’t have done that, Jack,” I panted as the satisfaction melted away into fear. He felt every bulge and curve I fought so hard to hide from him all these years!
Without a word, he ushered me back to our seats, although I swore he frowned.
Once we sat, he wrapped a strong arm around my shoulders and pulled me into him. “Get some sleep, Mattie,” he said softly and kissed the top of my mussed head.
I wanted to argue and pull away, but exhaustion claimed my body before I got the chance. Taking a deep breath of his manly smell, I shut my eyes.
That was just a fluke. It’ll never happen again. Jack’s just being nice, I told myself as tears prickled at the corners of my eyes. He probably had too much to drink, just like me.
We couldn’t get to Bangkok fast enough.
3
The city spread before us. The scent of car fumes and delectable cooking filled the air – rich coconut curry and cooked rice. The heat clung to my skin, and I was grateful I wore a dress on the plane even in the dead of winter. Since Thailand was in the subtropics it was pretty much hot all year round.
Jack clung to me with his free hand and carried my heaviest suitcase with the other. I’d offered to carry it myself, but he wouldn’t have it.
Funny, I forgot he could be a gentleman when he wanted to.
“The hotel is here,” I said and showed him the address on my smart phone.
“Come on, love. You don’t want to stay there. I’ve got a better idea,” he said and hailed a three-wheeled open-air vehicle. I’d read about them, but I couldn’t recall the name.
“I know where I want to stay. Look, it’s on the itinerary. We’re staying at the Four Seasons. We have reservations!” I cried and yanked my hand free of his grip. “And why can’t we take a normal cab? That thing doesn’t look safe.”
He said something to the driver in Thai and turned to me. “Nothing in life is safe, Mattie, especially in a developing country. This is a tuk-tuk. Cabs don’t even have seatbelts over here. Now, if you want a whitewashed version of Bangkok, you can stay at the Four Seasons. I’ve got a place I think you’ll like better – somewhere real and raw and amazing. You can’t say no to that.”
I pouted and stopped just short of stomping my foot like a five year old. Months of planning and Jack wanted to throw away my honeymoon itinerary just like that? Sure, Steven threw them away first, but this was the last straw!
“I want to stay at the Four Seasons. We have reservations – hey! That’s my luggage!”
Jack ignored me as he loaded my suitcases and his backpack into the tuk-tuk before pulling me in with him.
I pushed against his chest, my hand meeting a wall of sheer muscle, and I glared at him. “I have plans.”
His thick arm encompassed my body, his fingers digging into my fleshy sides and holding me still in his tight grip. “Plans change, love. That’s life. You had a real lesson in that recently, so this should be a breeze. Now, come on and trust me,” he whispered in my ear.
His hot lips tickled my skin, reminding me of the night before, and I did my best to suck in my stomach so he didn’t have to feel the bulge. Although I’m not sure what I wanted to accomplish. Turn my size sixteen frame into a size six by the power of suction? I don’t think so.
My whole body trembled as I stared at the traffic rushing past us. People balanced on mopeds sped by. Shops and little carts of food crowded each street. Palm trees lined the sidewalks and vines covered in flowers crawled over walls. The farther we got from the city center, the fewer foreigners I saw.
Lush greenery and ancient temples met us at every turn. Stray animals, from dogs to chickens, roamed alongside the people. Just looking at them, my mind shifted from my own petty troubles to the beauty of the city.
“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Jack asked suddenly.
His arms still held me close, and I shifted in his grasp. “I’m not going to jump out of a moving vehicle. You can let go of my now.”
“Who says I want to let go of my new wife?” he breathed into my ear.
Goose bumps rose up and down my spine despite the stifling heat. The lust rushed to my panties, soaking them through. How could he do that to my body with just the slightest word? Steven never had that effect on me, not once.
“I’m not your pretend wife yet,” I said and wiggled, trying to free myself from his grip and my budding arousal.
His chest pressed into my back – the pounding of his heart like the rhythm of a drum.
“Too hot for you, Mattie?” he asked and ran his strong hands down my hips.
“Jack!” I squeaked and slapped at his wandering fingers. We were not having a repeat of last night in the back of a tuk-tuk!
“Problem, love?”
Shifting in my seat, I felt the hardened stab of his cock pressed into my ass. I moved next to him as quickly as I could and gripped onto the side of the vehicle.
“I’m quite alright,” I said and glanced at his lap.
Sure enough, the telltale bulge pressed against the tight crotch of his jeans. Had he gotten hard last night? It looked painful, and my traitorous body wanted to free the damn thing. No! I had a broken heart. And I didn’t want Jack to be my rebound guy. I was just bound to get hurt all over again.
Suddenly, the tuk-tuk came to a stop right next to the canal. The slow flowing water, a muddy brown, lapped at the cement. Jack climbed out and handed the driver a few baht before grabbing my bags.
“What are we doing?” I asked as he helped me step down.
“Got to take the boat the rest of the way,” he said and pointed.
A long, narrow boat was tethered to the side of the canal. It almost looked like a canoe, but flatter and slightly wider. Jack loaded our luggage into it and offered me his hand. Glancing back at the departing tuk-tuk, I frowned.
“Why are we taking a boat?” I asked and carefully stepped inside.
Under my weight, the boat shifted and I slipped – falling forward into his arms. Jack’s hands grasped my waist, fingers holding me steady as I stared up into his face.
“I’ve got you,” he said, rubbing my sides with the flat of his palms.
His hands burned through the thin material of my dress and set my skin alight. As I leaned into him, the strong muscles of his chest and stomach firmed. Even jet-lagged, my body responded to the contact, a knot tightening in my belly as I leaned into his powerful arms.
“I can sit down now,” I mum
bled and lowered my eyes from his. Why did I have to blush like a damn schoolgirl around him?
His fingers eased their hold, and I stepped back and took a seat on the little wooden bench. He did the same, picking up a pair of long oars in the process.
“You know how to row one of these?” I asked and smoothed my dress over my thighs.
“Course, love. Had to learn when I got the house on the river,” he said with a wink.
His muscles shifted and bulged with each powerful stroke. For a moment, I stared at him – then my jet-lagged brain caught what he’d said.
“Wait, your house? You own a house here?”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Cheryl didn’t say? I thought she’d have told you. Where else did you think we’d stay?”
I frowned. “Why didn’t you say it was your house?”
“Surprise,” he said with a flash of a smile.
Despite my nerves, I smiled back.
The farther we went down the canal, my smile faded. Needless to say, the homes were much different from what I was used to in Manhattan. Not a single pre-war walk up or high rise in sight!
Instead, they ranged from wooden shacks to huge mansions, all lined up next to each other. Some hung over the water so dangerously I feared they might break off and fall in while others were set back in lush tropical foliage. Hopefully, Jack’s place wasn’t like the former.
He turned off the main canal into a little side stream. Palm trees leaned over the water, heavy with loads of bananas and flowering bushes crowded the edges.
“Where is this house of yours?” I asked and swatted a mosquito on my arm. Good thing I brought enough bug spray to last a year.
“Just here. I wanted something set back for a bit of privacy,” he said and pulled the boat up to a little dock.
Once he unloaded the luggage and hauled me out of the boat, I glanced up the pathway toward the house. Orchids of all different shapes and colors clung to the trees, like some kind of tropical fairy tale. Pinks, purples, oranges and yellows – their strange designs sparking costume ideas in my mind as we walked past.
“Do you like them?” he asked and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Yes. Do they just grow wild like this?”
“With a little help. The house is just through here,” he said and pushed back some crowding palm leaves.
If I’d been carrying a bag, I would have dropped it. As it was, I stared and my mouth fell agape. The huge wooden structure spread before us, more like it was carved from the jungle around it than truly built. The wrap around porch, walls and roof were all made of the same dark, polished wood. Instead of glass, the windows had finely carved shutters and mosquito netting over them. The roof came to a sharp point and flared out at the ends similar to many of the temples we passed on the way.
“This is your house?” I asked and glanced at Jack. As far as I knew he wasn’t swimming in money—but that place told a different story.
“Yeah, home sweet home. Come on in. I’m sure dinner’s ready by now.”
“Dinner? You have a cook?” I asked and followed him into the foyer.
Instead of answering, he only smirked.
Just like the outside, the inside of the home was all beautifully carved wood with a dearth of furniture. Most of the downstairs stood open, including the kitchen. A dining table, chairs and a low couch were the only things in the spacious area.
“I’ll take the bags to our room and you can wash up,” Jack said and started up the stairs.
“Right,” I said and followed. “Wait. Our room?”
Infuriatingly, he didn’t answer. When I reached the top of the stairs I understood what he meant. Like the first story the only thing portioned off with anything more than a wisp of white curtain was the bathroom – and that only had a toilet and shower in it.
A bed graced the center of the room, overlooking the jungle and canal below. Well, it probably beat the view at the Four Seasons, but I didn’t want to admit it to Jack just yet.
“You going to freshen up, love?” he asked and patted my bottom.
I jumped at the touch and spun around, scowling at his handsome smirk. “Yes. Why do you keep touching me like that?”
“You’re my wife,” he said and slipped a stray piece of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing my cheek delicately. “You need to get used to my touch, Mattie. You might even like it.”
What woman wouldn’t like it? I thought, but stepped back from his overwhelming presence all the same.
“I’m going to be your fake wife. You don’t have to touch me when no one’s around to see,” I said, my cheeks flushed, and I headed toward the bathroom.
His eyes burned into my back, but I didn’t know what else to say. As I shut the door, I leaned against it and sighed heavily. How the hell was I supposed to get through the next month with Jack? Cheryl probably put him up to this in order to make me feel better, help me regain some semblance of self-confidence. Didn’t she realize his intentions, however noble, just made the whole situation worse?
After washing up, I was still tired but at least I didn’t look like a zombie anymore. I’d only scrubbed my face for the moment – the real shower would come after dinner. The smells emanating from the kitchen were too mouthwatering for me to wait.
As I trotted down the stairs a middle-aged woman greeted me. She grinned and took my hand in hers. “Oh, Jack said his wife came with him. I’m so happy to meet you,” she cried and wrapped her arms around me.
I froze and only just remembered to pat her back before she pulled away. “Wife? Oh, y-yes. Of course. I’m Tilda,” I said.
The smile on her face made it hard to tell the truth.
“Tilda. He talks so much about you. Come. Sit down and eat,” she said and pulled out a chair for me.
Glancing around for Jack, I sat. The table was lined with six different dishes. Each one enticed me with the aroma of coconut and spices. My stomach grumbled and my mouth watered just looking at it. Then the woman grabbed my plate and starting dishing it up for me.
“I can do that,” I said and reached for it.
Jack seemed to appear from nowhere and plopped in the chair next to me. “Oh, I see you met Lamai.”
Once my plate was full, Lamai pushed it toward me and took Jack’s plate.
“Yes, we met, dear,” I said and eyed him. Why would he tell his cook he was married? Things just didn’t add up!
Like usual, Jack flashed me a gorgeous smile and handed me a flower. “I picked this for you, love.”
Now he was going out to pick me flowers? This was really getting out of hand. I’d had my heart broken – I wasn’t dying! “Thanks, darling.”
“Aren’t you going to eat? Lamai’s an excellent cook and this’ll be better than anything you had in New York.”
It smelled better; the gentle scents tickled my nose and my stomach growled. Slowly, I took a bite of a noddle dish and my taste buds burst to life. The spices danced across my tongue, exciting me more than I thought possible.
“It’s delicious,” I said and took a second bite.
Lamai smiled. “Good. Good. Jack said this would be your favorite.”
I glanced at Jack, who dug into his own plate without abandon.
“How did you know this would be my favorite?” I asked and took another delicate bite. Don’t eat your whole plate like a pig, fattie Mattie. I told myself.
“We’ve been out to Thai food before,” he said and pushed an open bottle of beer toward me.
He remembered eating Thai with Cheryl and me? That was at least three or four years ago! I licked my lips and shook my head. Steven always had to remind me how many extra calories were in alcoholic drinks. “I’ll just have water.”
“Have a sip. I promise you’ll like it,” he said, grinning dangerously.
The smile ate through all my resolve, and I took one long gulp. The crisp flavor clung to my tongue, mixing perfectly with the spices in the food. Aussies and their beer.
“Well?�
�� he asked.
“It’s great, Jack. I just don’t need it.”
He laughed. “I’m fairly certain you do. This is your vacation. Time to relax, love. Have a drink and enjoy dinner.”
My cheeks flushed, and I took another bite. “I don’t need you telling me what to do, thanks. If I say I don’t need it then I don’t need it.”
Suddenly, Jack leaned across the table, his face mere inches from my own. The rough edge of his cheek begged to be touched – his sharp eyes shining in the dim light.
“Want and need are two different things. We humans don’t need much, but we want it all. Might as well live while we have the chance.”
Sighing, I pushed the plate away. “Fine. Maybe I don’t want it then, since you have to put such a fine point on it.”
He eyed me for a moment, his look smoldering through my clothes to the flesh beneath. What the hell was he thinking about?
“Fair enough. You won’t even finish your dinner?”
I scowled and took another bite of the orgasmic food. Yes. I definitely wanted to finish dinner. We ate the rest of the meal in silence, and I glanced at the pretty tropical flower he’d picked for me. Then I realized the house was quiet and still.
“Where’s Lamai?” I asked and looked around.
“Home, I suppose. She’s not a live-in maid. She’s got a family of her own to look after,” he said and watched me with his questioning gaze.
I returned the look with a pout. “Why did you tell her you were married? Or do you have some secret wife no one else knows about?”
His eyes softened and he grinned. Good thing I was already sitting. His stupid smile weakened my knees.
“You’re my only wife, secret or otherwise.”
His words sent shivers over my skin, burrowing into my veins until my entire body tingled with sick desire. Why did he have to say things like that? It just made this whole situation that much worse.
First, your fiancé breaks up with you, now you have to spend the month with a former crush. A gorgeous Aussie hell bent on making you feel even worse. I must be some kind of masochist.
“Dessert?” he asked suddenly and shook me from my thoughts.
