Wedding Favors (32 page)

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Authors: Sheri Whitefeather

BOOK: Wedding Favors
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Claire said from behind him, “Be careful, James, or you just might fall in love.”
He spun around. Love was the last thing he wanted to talk about or think about or get consumed with. “It isn’t like that.”
“It could be.”
“But it isn’t.” Done with the conversation, he shot her a look that said not to mention it again. She didn’t know about the magic, and he wasn’t inclined to tell her.
Silent, she let him be. Grateful for the reprieve, he headed upstairs and entered his apartment.
Kendra was curled up on the sofa in front of the TV, and as she turned toward him, he was struck by how sweet and cozy she looked in his home. It made him feel married.
Married?
Christ, he thought. Marie’s daughter was really doing a number on him. Claire’s comment probably factored into it, too. He was getting it from all sides.
“I needed a break from work,” he told Kendra, explaining why he’d shown up.
She patted the space next to her, and he sat down. They took a moment to kiss softly, chastely.
When they separated he asked, “What are you watching?”
“
The Wedding Planner
.” She frowned. “Me, the one who isn’t into weddings.”
James frowned, too. Another voodoo influence? “I was working on the upcoming wedding schedules. Maybe our minds were in sync.”
She turned off the TV. “That must be it.”
Determined to banish the wedding stuff, he reached for her again, kissing her deeply this time, letting her know exactly what he wanted.
More than compliant, she straddled his lap, and the foreplay began.
He unbuttoned her blouse and unhooked her bra. Once her breasts were bared, he caressed them, making her nipples peak beneath his touch.
She sighed, and James tugged off her jeans and divested her of her underwear. She undressed him, too, but before she tossed his pants aside, he snatched a condom from the pocket.
He handed her the packet and told her to do it.
Beautifully submissive, she tore it open. And while she fitted him with the rubber and made him desperate for her, he promised himself that when the week was over, he would be done with Kendra.
No matter how much it pained him to let her go.
Chapter 8
Kendra
sat on a wrought-iron bench in the courtyard at the inn. Flowers bloomed all around her, bright and cheerful in hanging baskets.
But that didn’t improve her mood. Her vacation was almost over. Tomorrow she would be going home.
While she stressed about leaving, James was off running errands.
Errands.
It sounded so trivial. She couldn’t help feeling hurt that he hadn’t taken the day off to be with her.
She closed her eyes, doing her best to relax. When something tickled her hand, she opened her eyes and saw that a butterfly had flitted past her fingers and landed on a nearby flower. A viceroy? A monarch? She couldn’t tell. Either way, the symbolism struck her.
Innocence. Transformation.
Was this a sign? Was she supposed to emerge from her cocoon and admit that what she felt for James was real?
Yes, she thought, she was. Because no matter how much she blamed the fountain or the wish she’d made or Marie Laveau’s daughter, Kendra was responsible for her own heart. No amount of voodoo could make a woman ache this badly.
Footsteps sounded, and she looked up. It was an elderly couple who’d checked in yesterday. They said hello and walked toward the gazebo.
Kendra returned her attention to the butterfly, but it was gone. Fleeting, like her time in New Orleans.
Before she got teary eyed, she left the courtyard and went into the library, finding a quiet spot to be completely alone.
At dusk, James entered the room, and she missed him already. He looked so tall, so dark, so elusive.
“I’ve been searching all over for you,” he said.
She lifted the book in her hands. “I’ve been reading.” Mostly she’d been staring blankly at the pages.
“I have a surprise for you, Kendra.”
Excitement fluttered low in her belly. Had he been reanalyzing his feelings, too?
“A surprise?” she parroted.
He nodded. “I want our last night together to be special.”
Their last night. Her heart deflated, but she refused to let it show. Whatever he had in store for her, she would rejoice in it.
He led her to the dungeon, where he’d draped the bondage table with red satin and wound silk roses around the stockade. He’d also created a cozy sitting area, using furniture from the attic. Heightening the ambience were red and white candles, flickering in tall brass candelabras.
“I wasn’t running errands,” he said. “I was doing this.”
Her heart tripped and stumbled. “It’s beautiful.” She noticed a small table with two crystal bowls filled with bread pudding. “You made my favorite dessert.”
“It’s the Creole recipe, with bourbon sauce. It seemed like a good time for you to try it.”
“It looks wonderful.” So did the wine he’d provided to go with it.
“I have a gift for you, too.” He reached into his pocket and handed her a jewelry-sized box.
She opened the top and discovered a pendant with a butterfly perched on a silver arrow. The necklace was adorned with seed pearls, garnets, and topaz.
She blinked back tears, and he said, “It’s from the Victorian era.”
“It’s exquisite. Thank you.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I saw our butterfly today. Or one that looked like it.”
“Really? Maybe it’s part of the magic. No matter what we do, we can’t seem to escape it.”
She ventured a romantic response. “Maybe we’re not supposed to.”
“I guess not. At least not yet.” He took the pendant from her. “Let me help you put it on.”
She turned and lifted her hair, and he placed it around her neck and closed the clasp. Afterward, he circled her waist, pressing the front of his body to the back of hers.
Warm in his embrace, she turned to face him, to look into his eyes. If only tomorrow would never come, if only she could stay with him forever.
“Do you think butterflies represented transformation in the Victorian era?” she asked. “Or innocence or any of the symbolism that applies today?”
“I don’t know. Everything was supposed to be innocent then.” He glanced around. “That’s why it shocked me when I discovered this dungeon. It didn’t fit the house.”
“It does now. You glamorized it, James.”
“Yes, but it’s just for tonight.”
He opened the wine, and they sat on a battered settee and enjoyed dessert. The flavor of late-harvest Riesling and Creole pudding melted on her tongue.
“After we eat, you’re going to touch yourself for me,” he said.
Kendra pulled the spoon out of her mouth. “I am?”
“Yes. Right over there.” He indicated the satin-draped bondage table.
“I’ve never done that in front of anyone before.”
“That makes it even better.” He got up and went over to the toy cabinet and returned with a pink vibrator shaped like a penis with two prongs attached. “Have you ever used a rabbit vibrator?”
She shook her head. Her first experience with sex toys had been with him.
“The shaft goes inside and the little bunny ears stimulate the clit.” He handed it to her.
She examined the pliable device and noticed separate controls for the shaft and the ears, with various speeds. She pressed the phallus switch, and the vibrator hummed in her hand. Another control made the head rotate.
She glanced up at James, and he smiled. The ache of missing him returned.
They finished the pudding, and he told her to undress. She stripped down, leaving nothing but the butterfly necklace.
Vibrator in hand, she climbed onto the table, the satin cool against her skin. James gave her a bottle of lubricant, then positioned the settee so he could watch.
He spoke softly. “Sit forward, draw up your knees, and open your legs.”
She did what he asked of her, and in her mind’s eye, she imagined how she looked, fully exposed and bathed in candlelight.
“Perfect,” he said just as softly.
Feeling oddly romantic, she turned on the vibrator and rolled the shaft across her breasts, recalling how James had done that to her with the dildos he’d used.
She made the head rotate against one of her nipples. Knowing he was watching, she brought it to her labia and rolled it around there, too. She wanted to please him as much as he wanted her to please herself.
Taking it to the next level, she turned off the vibrator and coated it with lubricant, stroking it as if it were a real penis.
James scooted to the edge of the settee, and her breathing quickened. He had an obvious ridge beneath his fly.
She inserted the phallus, and when the ears were aligned with her clit, she turned on the vibrator, making all the parts move.
While the ears stimulated her clit, the shaft buzzed, the head rotating deep inside.
She keened out a moan, and James watched the entire time.
Steeped in her own juices, she widened her legs, giving him a sexier view. Then she lost all reason and increased the speed.
Inside and out ...
Faster and faster ...
Kendra came in a whirlwind, her heart spinning right along with her body.
When it ended, when she could think and breathe and move her limbs, James helped her to her feet.
Standing beside the table, they kissed, his mouth hot and hungry against hers.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Oh, yes
. No matter how incredible the vibrator felt, nothing compared to him.
He led her to the stockade, bent her over the wood, and locked her wrists.
She heard him behind her, removing his clothes: the thud of his shoes, the rustle of his shirt, the rasp of his zipper, denim being dragged down his hips.
The tearing of a condom packet came next. Kendra suspected that it was ultrathin, that he’d chosen the sheerest protection possible. A moment later, the weight of his body bore down on hers.
One powerful thrust and he was inside.
He rode her hard and unmercifully fast. The copulating motion rocked her to the core, making the butterfly tap, tap, tap against her skin.
He didn’t slow down, not for an instant, and she didn’t want him to. She needed it this way.
Hot. Hammering. Unbridled.
Yet, with each lust-driven stroke, she agonized over loving him, torn between how good and how bad it felt.
He nipped the nape of her neck, scraping her with his teeth. More pain. More pleasure. Even the clamps on her wrists seemed too tight.
Beautiful bondage. Desperate domination.
She closed her eyes, and he clutched her waist and held her more possessively than he’d ever held her before.
Claiming her, she thought, for one last fractured time.
Chapter 9
James
entered the bedroom while Kendra was packing. She glanced up at him, and their gazes locked. He’d offered to drive her to the airport, and he hoped and prayed that it wasn’t going to be a long and painful good-bye. They were both already hurting.
He could see the ache in her eyes, the same miss-you pain churning inside of him. And on top of that was the phone call he’d made, the information that confused the hell out of him.
Should he tell her or keep it to himself?
He sat on the edge of the bed. A moment later, he got up and walked over to the window. A second after that, he plopped down on a chair and cursed his restlessness.
James decided to tell her. Otherwise it would be burning a hole in his mind, and he was already struggling with his sanity.
He said, “I called the antique store where I bought your necklace. First I talked to the salesgirl who sold it to me, then I spoke to the owner.”

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