Page 31

31

RUBY

I watch Harry emerge from the steamy bathroom and stroll back into the bedroom, a bath towel wrapped around his waist, his chest still damp. He towel-dries his hair, flinging water across the room. Coconut scented shower gel wafts my way, and I can’t help smiling at him from the bed. He’s totally oblivious to his charm. Still.

Maybe that’s part of it—Harry isn’t one of those arrogant assholes who walk into a room and check out the women checking them out, knowing they can snap their fingers and take their pick.

“What?” He stops rubbing his hair and quirks his lips at me. “Did I cut myself shaving?” He touches his chin tentatively.

“Uh-huh.” I push back the bedcovers and crawl across the bed towards him.

When I’m within touching distance, I slide my hand underneath the towel wrapped around his waist and stroke his cock which immediately springs to life.

“Right here.” I lick my lips and release the towel, dropping it onto the floor before I take him into my mouth and tease him with my tongue. He’s warm and silky smooth, and I find myself grabbing his hips and pulling him into me as far as I can take him.

If anyone had told me a year ago that I would meet a man who made me feel like this, I wouldn’t have believed them. It’s as if Harry has unlocked something deep inside me, an inner sex goddess I never knew existed, and now that I’ve tasted him, I can’t get enough.

Harry’s fingers entwine with my hair, holding me still while he moves his hips, sliding his cock out of my mouth, rubbing it across my lips, and back in again gently. Never too far. Giving me just enough to leave me wanting more. I cup his balls with my hands, massaging the tender skin behind them until I hear him groan out loud.

Then I suck harder. I squeeze the base of his cock with one hand, still stroking his balls with the other, and slide my hand up and down, growing faster in tune with Harry’s panting breaths. I love that I can do this to him. It’s like suddenly finding out that I possess a superpower that no one else has, singling me out from every other woman in the world and making me feel special.

I stop before I make him come.

Our bodies are so in tune with one another that I barely have a chance to release him before he pushes me back onto the bed, spreads my legs wide, and fucks me with his tongue and two fingers. My orgasm is quick and hard. Harry’s tongue is relentless, waiting for me to explode again, my knees spread wide by his so that I can’t wriggle away from him.

He keeps going, licking, nibbling, sucking.

My head reels. All sense of awareness deserts me as my orgasm chases his tongue, wanting it to end and wanting it to be all that I ever feel for the rest of my life. When Harry slides inside me, my brain is numb, every nerve ending in my body still tingling.

He smooths my hair away from my face, gripping it so tightly my eyes become slits. “I love you, Ruby. You’re the fucking world to me.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and hold onto him, kissing him while his body jerks, his groans swallowed by my mouth. Finally, I can’t keep my feelings in check anymore as I proclaim, “I love you, Harry Weiss.”

Harry smooths my hair away from my face, drinking me in with his eyes. His lips caress my eyelids, my cheekbones, the tip of my nose, my jawline down to the base of my throat. It’s the most romantic, the most tender moment that we have ever shared, and my heart swells with love for this man. When his lips come back to meet mine, he murmurs, “Do you have any idea how much I love you and how happy you make me, Ruby Jackson?”

It doesn’t need answering.

We lay together, Harry on top of me, my pussy clenching and unclenching, pushing him out of me slowly. A chuckle escapes my lips, and he rolls off me and onto his back on the bed.

“Morning.” His smile is so filled with love that I wish I could capture it in a tiny precious box and bring it out whenever I’m feeling any less than I do in this perfect moment.

“Morning. I think you’re going to be late for the office.”

“Fuck the office.” He plants a kiss on my lips and sinks backward onto the bed again, and I know that he feels the same.

“Does that mean you’re staying home today?”

“Do you want me to?”

I do, but I have plans for today that don’t include Harry.

I’ve been living in his apartment for three weeks, and New York is already starting to feel like home. The barista in the coffee shop close to where we live already knows that I like my coffee extra-hot with a sprinkling of chocolate and cinnamon on top. The woman who lives on the first floor of Harry’s building with a white fluffy dog called Pebbles always stops to say hi while I stroke behind the dog’s ears, and the dog licks my hand in greeting.

I still gape in the windows of Tiffany’s whenever I walk past, but that’s something that will never change.

Harry managed to get my dad transferred to a private clinic in the city, where I can visit him every day between physio sessions. He has stopped asking what happened between me and Mom. He understands that it was bad enough for me to leave Chicago, but he also knows that I’ll tell him when I’m ready.

I’m seeing him today, but Harry already knows this.

What he doesn’t know is that Melanie is in New York for a couple of days, and I’m meeting up with her. She isn’t ready for me to tell Harry yet, and I have to respect her wishes. I feel bad for keeping it a secret when he has been so honest right from the first time we met, but I have a plan, and if it works, I know that he’ll forgive me.

I wrinkle my nose now and roll away from him. I stand, pick up the damp towels he dropped on the bedroom floor, and hold them at arm’s length. “Not today. I’m busy.”

He stands and retrieves a pair of boxers from the chest of drawers, turning his back while he pulls them up like I haven’t seen him naked before. “Wedding stuff?”

“Uh-huh.”

He takes out some black socks and pulls them on too. “You’re not going to tell me what it is, are you?”

“Nu-huh.”

Without warning, he tackles me onto the bed, tickling the tender spot on my sides until I curl up into a ball, giggling and begging him to stop.

“Not until you tell me what it is.”

“No…” I choke out between bouts of laughter. “Stop, Harry. I can’t breathe.”

“Tell me.”

His cast has been removed, and it feels as if he has eight arms like a spider rather than two. His fingers are everywhere, and I give into them, my body twitching of its own accord every time he hits the spot.

“I’m going wedding dress shopping,” I blurt out.

He stops and sits on the bed beside me, offering his hand to help me upright. “Fuck. Sorry. I shouldn’t have pressured you into telling me.”

“It’s fine, Harry.”

I’ve left it a bit late, and who knows if I’ll be able to find the dress I want and have it altered in time for the wedding which is only three weeks away, but I’m going to have fun trying. I didn’t leave the apartment for the first week, and when I finally felt well enough to venture outside alone, I couldn’t bring myself to think about it. Not after my mom’s betrayal.

I know it’s my dad who should feel betrayed, but she lied to me too. All these years, she didn’t even want to be with us. I don’t even know who she is anymore.

I should’ve been shopping for a wedding dress with my mom, but instead, I’m going with Melanie. I only met her briefly before I left Chicago, but we have spoken almost every day since, and she is already starting to feel like the sister I never had. Besides, I’m marrying her brother.

Harry kisses my lips. “I promise I won’t ask again.”

“It’s fine,” I repeat. “It feels kinda weird doing all this without you.”

“I know I’ve been busy with work, but it will be worth it when we’re on our honeymoon and you have me all to yourself. You’ll be begging me to leave you alone after a few days.”

“A few days?” I frown at him, lips tugged into a lopsided smile. “Two days, max.”

He laughs out loud, pinching his thumb and forefinger together like pincers. “I’ll tickle you again if you’re not careful.”

I watch him get dressed in an expensive gray suit, waiting for my favorite part of the morning ritual: fastening his tie. My dad taught me how to do it when I was a little girl, and I would rise early every morning just to help him fasten his tie in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom he shared with my mom.

Now, Harry stands by the bed, and I kneel in front of him, tucking the tie beneath his collar, measuring the lengths on either side to make sure they’re equal. I fold and tug until I’ve made a neat knot at the front and a perfect dimple just below, sitting back on my heels and surveying my handiwork.

“How do I look?” He spreads his arms wide and gives me a twirl.

“Ready.” I allow my gaze to drift pointedly down to his pants. “Apart from one thing.” I stroke the bulge of his erection through the material.

He smiles and pulls away. “Much more of that, and you’ll be walking down the aisle naked.”

Harry brings me coffee in bed before he leaves.

“You’re spoiling me.” I sip the steaming liquid and settle back against the pillows. I’m getting too used to this. I know that I’ll have to get a job eventually, after the wedding, but it would be so easy to be a kept woman, easier than I could’ve ever imagined.

“I’m never going to stop spoiling you, Ruby Jackson.” He leans closer and kisses the tip of my nose. “What do you want me to do if your mom calls again today?”

Mom has been calling Harry’s office every day—multiple times a day—since I left Chicago. I haven’t returned her calls or bothered listening to her messages. Lizzie said that my mom sounded angry when she discovered that my dad had been transferred, demanding that Harry or I return her calls.

I know that I’ll have to face her at the wedding if she comes, but I’m not ready to listen to more of her lies. Not yet.

“Nothing.” I smile at Harry. “I don’t want you to do anything.”

“Oh my God.” Melanie covers her face with both hands, peeping out at me over the top of her fingertips. “You look … beautiful, Ruby.”

The wedding gown I’m wearing has a heart-shaped boned bodice and flares out at the waist into a huge ball gown, covered in layers of frothy white tulle sprinkled with tiny diamantes. It isn’t the dress I would’ve chosen for myself, but I’ve tried on so many gowns now that my stomach is rumbling with hunger, and my legs are trembling.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror trying to suppress the memory of the terrible nightmare I suffered when I was sick. Seems I never really knew my own mind. This is the dress that Harry would’ve chosen for me given the opportunity, and now that I’m wearing it, I can see how utterly perfect it is. I feel … beautiful. Special.

I feel worthy of marrying a man like Harry Weiss.

“What do you think?” Melanie dabs her eyes with a tissue. “I know it isn’t what you were looking for.” She exchanges a glance with the bridal assistant as she fusses around the skirt, teasing the layers out to make it even wider.

I suck on my bottom lip, turning from side to side to view it from every angle. I only get to do this once, and I want it to be perfect.

In Gretna Green, I told Donna and Bill that I wanted to get married in a forest, surrounded by trees and sunlight and a gurgling stream, wearing a floaty floral dress fit for a fairy. I still think that it would be a wedding to remember, but I understand more clearly now that it isn’t only about me. As a child, I never pictured the groom who would be standing by my side, and now that I have Harry, I want to give him the wedding of his dreams. I want to walk down the aisle in a dress that makes me feel special and makes him proud.

Which is why we’re getting married in a boutique Manhattan hotel overlooking the Rockefeller Center. The chandeliers are huge, the ballroom is elegant, and the salon will be the perfect setting for a dress like this.

“I…” I suck in a deep shaky breath. “I love it.”

The assistant smiles. “I think this dress has been waiting for you. It doesn’t even need any alterations.”

I choose a long, floor-length veil and a sparkling tiara, and arrange to collect it on the eve of the wedding. When we step outside the bridal store, I feel as if the world has changed. It has suddenly become a brighter place where the sun always shines, and good things do happen.

Melanie and I grab lunch in a Japanese restaurant where our food is cooked on a grill at the table. We talk about the wedding and try to guess where Harry is taking me for our honeymoon.

“The Bahamas.” I chew a mouthful of teriyaki salmon and swallow. “Or Mexico maybe.”

Melanie shakes her head. “If I know my brother, he’ll have booked the Seychelles or Bali or a private island that can only be reached by boat.”

I sip my wine and try to get my head around it. This was always my mom’s dream, to see me married to someone who had even heard of the Seychelles, whether I loved him or not, and I still can’t believe that this is going to be my life now.

Melanie hesitates, her fork halfway to her mouth. “What are you wearing on your feet?”

I instinctively glance at the floor. “Boots?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “On your wedding day.”

I grimace. I hadn’t thought of that.

“Right, next stop, every shoe store in town until we find a pair of shoes worthy of that dress. Call it my wedding gift to you.”