Long Slow Tease: Penance Part 2

This was his woman and he didn't want anyone but him to see her naked.

But he wanted to be everything she ever needed, so he had to learn how to enjoy this as well and push back his stupid f.u.c.king jealousy.

He pulled Mich.e.l.le back and began to lift her up and down his c.o.c.k by her waist, knowing she loved it when he used his superior strength to please her. She gave a little struggle, but soon her lovely pink mouth went slightly slack with pleasure, making him remember what it was like to f.u.c.k that beautiful mouth. Her smooth, firm thighs gripped his hips as she began to take over the motion, each stroke of her c.u.n.t against his shaft making his toes curl as the prostate toy did its job.

The ability to think rationally fled as he became entranced by the sight of Mich.e.l.le's lean, beautiful body curving against his, the scent of their musk mixing with Yuki and James' aroma until he was saturated in pheromones. To his surprise, Yuki came first, her soft keening rising above the dull roar of the plane's engines. The sound captured his attention, and when he looked over the savage expression on Yuki's face as she o.r.g.a.s.med made his already tenuous hold on his self-control even shakier.

Mich.e.l.le's nails p.r.i.c.kled against his neck as she turned him back to look at her. Embarra.s.sed that he'd been caught looking, he refocused on his Mistress, uneasy with the anger that had crept back into her expression. If he didn't know better, he'd say Mich.e.l.le was jealous, though that didn't make any sense at all. She was the one who instigated this, who'd tormented him, who'd commanded every moment of their time together on the plane. He'd seen how aroused she became watching James and Yuki, so he wasn't quite sure what she was angry about.

Then again, she was still a woman and most women didn't like their man looking at other females, especially naked females. Beneath that hard, perfect exterior, Mich.e.l.le's heart was a lot more fragile than most people knew. She was excellent at hiding her feelings, but he was getting better at reading her and seeing past the mask of perfection she showed the world. And right now, he had a flash of intuition that told him Mich.e.l.le did not like it when he looked at Yuki, so he returned his gaze to his beautiful Domina. While Mich.e.l.le had instigated this, he knew women well enough to recognize the flare of jealousy in her gaze so he tried to rea.s.sure his woman by letting her see in his expression how much he loved looking at her. Not like that was much of a hards.h.i.+p, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, let alone touched.

Mich.e.l.le squeezed her inner muscles and began to milk his c.o.c.k as she raised and lowered herself.

With his come boiling in his b.a.l.l.s, he reached between himself and Mich.e.l.le to play with her c.l.i.t. She s.h.i.+vered against him and moaned softly, taking him in all the way and squeezing his d.i.c.k until he thought his heart might explode. He pinched her c.l.i.t gently and she froze, then began to o.r.g.a.s.m with a deep, guttural moan that drove him crazy. Unable to help himself, he gripped her hips and began to raise and lower her on his d.i.c.k, using his upper body strength so all she had to do was hold on.

f.u.c.k, she was magnificent.

His woman.

His Domina.

Next to him James made a choked sound. "Please..."

Wyatt kept his gaze on Mich.e.l.le, liking the way she smiled at him as she wiggled her hips. "Mmmm, feel that? How wet my p.u.s.s.y is? You did that to me."

Now it was his turn to hunch forward and strain not to fill her up with his seed.

Yuki laughed. "Give me one more o.r.g.a.s.m James, and you can come."

Mich.e.l.le gave a wicked purr. "I want you to come at the same time as James."

Wyatt glanced over at James, and when their gazes met, they both nodded. Sweat stood out on his friend's red face then James winked before turning back to Yuki. He pulled her forward so he could lick Yuki's berry-dark nipples, making her moan and wiggle. Evidently, she had very sensitive nipples because she was soon clutching James' head to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as she rode him with abandon.

Determined to give his Mistress as much pleasure as James was giving Yuki, Wyatt leaned forward and delicately licked at the tip of Mich.e.l.le's breast, loving the way she sighed his name. Soon, he had his little Mistress groaning, and holding back his o.r.g.a.s.m had to be one of the hardest things he'd ever done. She was so slick, so hot and welcoming around his c.o.c.k as he plunged in and out of her. Mounding her b.r.e.a.s.t.s together, he went from one nipple to another, the a.s.s plug wreaking havoc with his ability to fight off the need to come.

Yuki leaned forward, the silk of her hair brus.h.i.+ng over Wyatt and Mich.e.l.le's body as she began to suck on James' neck. He grunted, then s.h.i.+vered. "So f.u.c.king good."

Mich.e.l.le leaned down and whispered into Wyatt's ear, "Look."

He was afraid to look, worried that he'd spark his Mistress' unpredictable jealousy again, but Mich.e.l.le fisted his hair and turned his head to the side. "I want you to watch them while I f.u.c.k you. Watch how close James is to coming, how much he suffers to please the woman he loves. Just like you suffer for me."

He tried to ignore the intense flush burning his face as he let his gaze dart over to Yuki and James before looking back at Mich.e.l.le. She gave him a small smile, then turned to watch the other couple, her p.u.s.s.y contracting hard around his c.o.c.k, making him moan. Yuki must have done something to James at the same time because his grunt of pleasure mixed with Wyatt's low growl. A sudden empathy surged through Wyatt and he no longer felt embarra.s.sed as he studied Yuki and James. He did know exactly how the other man felt, and while it didn't really arouse him, it did make him feel closer to James. They were 'brothers in bondage' in a weird way.

Then Mich.e.l.le began to kiss on his neck the same way Yuki was sucking on James and he lost himself in the eroticism of the moment.

Mich.e.l.le nipped him hard enough to sting. "Ready to eat your seed out of my p.u.s.s.y, Wyatt? Because I'm sure as h.e.l.l ready to come all over your face."

White hot pa.s.sion blinded him and he froze, all of his muscles locked in place as Yuki wailed out her o.r.g.a.s.m.

James shouted out, "Mistress, may I come?"

"Yes," both women said at once and Wyatt took that as permission to come as well.

If he held back any longer his b.a.l.l.s might turn so blue he'd look like he had two ma.s.sive blueberries dangling beneath his c.o.c.k.

Craving as much skin to skin contact as he could get, he wrapped his arms around Mich.e.l.le and held her close, tilting his hips to get as much of himself into her as possible. This move pressed that evil f.u.c.king toy against his prostate at a slightly different angle and he lost the ability to breathe, to do anything but surrender to Mich.e.l.le's will.

"Let go, Wyatt. Give me your pleasure."

She squeezed her inner muscles in a rhythmic way that seemed to suck the first hard throb of his o.r.g.a.s.m from him. He gripped her a.s.s, grinding into her as he climaxed, all the frustration and need pouring from him, filling her as he came over and over. Making love to Mich.e.l.le wasn't just a physical act, but an emotional one as well. He gave himself to her in every way possible, trusting her to hold him, to take care of him, to keep him safe while he handed his heart, body, and soul to her.

Coming inside of her tight c.u.n.t, feeling her against him, licking and kissing against her neck while he filled her with his seed was paradise.

The tingling slowly faded and he came back to earth with a very satisfied woman nuzzling against his neck. Her s.e.x occasionally twitched around his c.o.c.k, and he winced at the overwhelming sensation of her p.u.s.s.y squeezing him. He tried not to involuntarily jerk away, the sensation too much after the wild f.u.c.k she'd just given him, but she gripped him tighter.

"Don't you f.u.c.king move, Wyatt. You will endure this for me because it makes me unbelievably hot."

That was abundantly clear. When she sat up and slowly ma.s.saged him with her c.u.n.t, her gaze took on that slightly glazed quality that let him know how deeply he was affecting her, how much his submission aroused her. The curve of her t.i.t caught the light and he marveled at the perfection of her body. If G.o.d had ever built any woman for wors.h.i.+p, it was this one.

She licked her lower lip and slowly rose up, leaving his now fully erect c.o.c.k bobbing against his stomach. With a wicked grin she moved over to the table and propped her a.s.s up on it and balanced her feet on the chair in front of her, opening her legs to reveal her p.u.s.s.y. She was so slick that her thighs gleamed and he noted right away her c.l.i.t was swollen and pressing out from between her plump, well f.u.c.ked, p.u.s.s.y lips. The light caught the golden blonde hair covering her mound and saliva filled his mouth. He couldn't f.u.c.king wait to have that p.u.s.s.y on his tongue.

He clenched his teeth and fought the urge to lunge at her. She still wore those s.e.xy silk stockings and he marveled at her ability to work him back into an intense l.u.s.t mere minutes after he blew his load hard enough to make him see stars. Her gaze s.h.i.+fted to his left and her lips parted in a soft gasp that had her spreading her legs all the wider. Without thinking he followed it and found himself watching Yuki suck on James' d.i.c.k with an expertise that made his own c.o.c.k jump.

Feeling like a peeping tom, he looked away and back to his Mistress.

She smiled at him, a slow and easy curve of her lips that seemed to convey she knew exactly what he was thinking and calling him an idiot. Of course, Yuki and James liked to be watched. It was their thing. He'd seen them f.u.c.king once before. It was during a surprise they'd been working on for Mich.e.l.le and something James did made Yuki all hot and bothered. Wyatt had to sit there, holding his pose as she sketched, while James ate her out then f.u.c.ked her. And did a d.a.m.n f.u.c.king good job of it if Yuki's cries of pa.s.sion were any indication as she came.

Repeatedly.

Just like he wanted to make Mich.e.l.le come.

She crooked her finger at him and his muscles surged as he moved to her in one solid stride stopping just a hair before their skin touched. While he didn't believe in hippy dippy c.r.a.p about auras and all that, d.a.m.ned if he couldn't feel her energy against him as firm as a touch. Something pa.s.sed between them at a soul deep level as he felt himself sink into her.

He lowered his head to her temple and whispered, "I love you."

She pressed her face against his lips and captured his mouth in an intense, gentle, ball tightening kiss. As she slowly tongue f.u.c.ked his mouth he had to fist his hands behind his back like he was standing in military parade rest. The fact that his bare a.s.s was to Yuki and James only registered vaguely on the edges of his conscious mind. With each drugging kiss she lured him into giving in to her and letting her have complete control over him.

Deep in his heart he still fought the urge to dominate their love making, to take over now and again, but that urge was weakening the longer they were together. The more he trusted her, the more letting go of control felt right to him. While he'd never had the desire to serve a woman before Mich.e.l.le, he wondered if that was because he'd never really loved anyone before Mich.e.l.le. She'd let him take control the first time they made love and the experience had been amazing. But this...when she took command of him like this his whole body seemed to become insubstantial and his thoughts grew muzzy almost like he was drunk. Yet it wasn't the bad, dirty feeling he experienced when he was drunk from alcohol. This energy was so clean and pure it pushed back the darkness that tried to eat at his heart.

Her elegant fingers tightened on his hair and she pulled him away from her mouth hard enough to make his scalp sting, which only aroused him all the more. He couldn't wait to get between her slender thighs and clean the evidence of their coupling from her sweet, wet, hot c.u.n.t. f.u.c.k, he could smell how aroused she was and it drove him crazy. Yuki moved up onto the table next to Mich.e.l.le and warmth radiated against Wyatt's side as James sat in the chair next to him.

Without preamble, she shoved his face between her legs, forcing him to sit in his chair like a man about to eat dinner. "Lick me."

He was glad his face was currently pressed to her s.e.x because she'd smack him if she saw his c.o.c.ky grin. If there was one thing he knew how to do it was take care of his woman orally. The table s.h.i.+fted and he tried to look up to see what was going on, but his Domina kept his mouth on her sweet p.u.s.s.y. Getting the hint, he focused only on pleasing her. With slow, deliberate licks he cleaned her like a wolf licking his mate. Keeping his mouth gentle, he kissed his way over her mound, pausing to rub his nose in the fuzz of her pubic hair.

She smelled so good here, a scent that drove him mad with need. He took in another deep breath just to torture himself then began to place soft kisses all around her c.l.i.t, but never right on it. Mich.e.l.le shuddered and a moment later Yuki cried out. Not letting the other woman's arousal distract him, he began to rub his tongue ever so lightly on the tip of Mich.e.l.le's hard nub. James made a low growling noise and Wyatt tried to figure out how they were positioned. Were Yuki and Mich.e.l.le holding hands while he ate his beautiful Mistress out? The mental image of their naked bodies together, hugging each other, licking each other's lips made his d.i.c.k surge with guilty arousal.

f.u.c.k, he was only human and no heteros.e.xual man on earth could see these two women together, naked, and not think s.h.i.+t like that. Aware that his Mistress was probably a little tender, he backed off from her c.l.i.t and tried not to grin at her distressed noise. Then he dipped his head lower and began to slide his tongue into her p.u.s.s.y as far as he could, licking her, cleaning every trace of his seed from her. The blend of their arousal was a potent charge to his primitive self, and the caveman part of his psyche roared at the physical proof of his claim on this magnificent woman.

Soon, she was crying out softly and he looped her legs over his shoulders, pulling her forward to get a better angle. She grabbed his head and rocked her pelvis into his mouth, her moans driving him crazy. The wet sound of two p.u.s.s.ies being eaten was barely audible above the roar of the engines, but to Wyatt it was loud enough to torment him. If someone had asked him six months ago if the thought of another man watching him eat his woman's p.u.s.s.y would have gotten him off he would have told them they were f.u.c.king crazy, yet here he sat with a raging b.o.n.e.r while James made his wife scream.

A second later Mich.e.l.le went rigid in his hands, then completely limp as the first wave of her o.r.g.a.s.m tore through her. The tiny bud of her c.l.i.t vibrated against his tongue and he gentled his mouth, wanting to eat her as long as he could before it became too much for her to handle. She relaxed completely to the point where he had to s.h.i.+ft his stance so he could support her with his hands as she leaned back into a semi-reclining position. Making a low, happy humming noise Mich.e.l.le rubbed her legs against his back as he continued to please her.

With a sigh, she finally reached down and gripped his hair, pulling him back. She smiled down on him with heavy-lidded eyes and he knew she loved him. She wouldn't f.u.c.king say it yet, only that 'me too' bulls.h.i.+t, but there wasn't a doubt in his mind. He stood and held his arms out, helping her down from the table. Her legs shook hard so he had to hold her for a second. On the other side of the table James did the same thing for his wife and the men shared a very masculine smirk. With a sigh of regret Mich.e.l.le stepped away and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"Get dressed, Wyatt. We'll only have a short time after we check in at the hotel before we're supposed to be at my parents' barbecue."

Shrugging back into his s.h.i.+rt, he let out a long breath and sent a silent prayer up to heaven for G.o.d to give him patience and keep his PTSD under control, because he had a feeling Mich.e.l.le was going to need him. While she hadn't said it outright, Yuki and James had clued him in on her contentious relations.h.i.+p with her mother. Evidently, Mrs. Sapphire was a complete control freak and had demanded perfection from Mich.e.l.le in every aspect of her life and had made Mich.e.l.le's childhood a living h.e.l.l. By the time he met Mich.e.l.le she'd been out of her mother's sphere of influence long enough to have relaxed, but the stories that Yuki told him about Mich.e.l.le's mother made it hard for him to keep from wanting to smack the b.i.t.c.h on first sight.

Yuki made an exaggerated gagging noise then bent over to retrieve her dress, giving Wyatt a pretty good view of her s.e.x. "You are going to be both bored out of your mind and on the defensive. Those parties are political shark pits with everyone second guessing each other's words, looking for some kind of double meaning in everything. And your mother, Mich.e.l.le, she's a great white."

According to Yuki, Mich.e.l.le visited her parents as little as possible because her mother made her completely stressed out and neurotic. It wasn't until he saw the flash of fear in his Domina's eyes at the mention of her mother that he realized how bad it must have been. Mich.e.l.le was so confident, so self-possessed that he couldn't imagine anyone making her feel worthless. He'd noticed an increasing tension as the date for the wedding neared, but he'd dismissed it as being part of her issues over seeing her friends who had known Owen. Now he wondered if it was more than that and if he should try to talk Mich.e.l.le out of going to visit her parents.

James s.h.i.+vered. "First time I met Mich.e.l.le's mother, she took one look at me and asked Yuki when she'd started dating the pool boy."

Mich.e.l.le gave a forced laugh. "You're going to scare Wyatt. She's not that bad. She's just very...opinionated."

Yuki opened her mouth to say something, but James cut her off. "If it makes you feel any better, I have to go endure six hours of Yuki's dad giving me the evil eye and mentioning to Yuki all the eligible bachelors he'd like her to meet back in j.a.pan." James gave a harsh laugh as he slipped back into his pants. "You've never met her old man. He's like some feudal j.a.panese lord who expects everyone to wors.h.i.+p him, and he's still p.i.s.sed his little girl didn't marry a man of his choosing. That guy can break your b.a.l.l.s with a glance."

Mich.e.l.le giggled. "Well, at least we know where Yuki gets it from."

The tension broke and their laughter filled the cabin as Yuki and Mich.e.l.le traded insults and giggled like young girls. Wyatt's heart widened until he thought he might be having a stroke as he realized that while he loved Mich.e.l.le, Yuki and James had come to be really good friends, and he loved them like family. It was nice talking to James. He was very down to earth and always gave a solid, well-thought-out answer. Wyatt trusted him and found himself talking about some not so nice things, s.h.i.+t he couldn't talk to Mich.e.l.le about because she had her own nightmares from the war to deal with. James was far enough removed from it that while Wyatt knew it saddened James, he listened to Wyatt without judgment. A solid, dependable man, Wyatt was proud to call him a friend. Yuki, on the other hand, let her emotions lead her. Wyatt never had to worry about her lying. If she thought something was bulls.h.i.+t she'd let a person know.

As he watched Mich.e.l.le wiggle back into her skirt, laughing at something Yuki said, one particular conversation he'd had with the lovely Asian woman about Mich.e.l.le came to mind. Mich.e.l.le had been fourteen years old and came in fifth place during a high profile equestrian compet.i.tion. Her mother was furious that Mich.e.l.le hadn't placed higher, and as punishment, sold Mich.e.l.le's horse. It devastated Mich.e.l.le; she loved her horse more than anything in the world, and worse yet, Mich.e.l.le's mother made her attend the sale and lead her horse into the trailer. She told Mich.e.l.le the whole time that if she'd worked harder, been better, she would have been able to keep her horse.

The thing was, Mich.e.l.le had worked hard, had busted her a.s.s and did everything she could to win, but it hadn't been enough. Yuki had been heartbroken for her friend and said that for the rest of the summer Mich.e.l.le had been in a deep funk. Wyatt asked why Mich.e.l.le's dad didn't intercede and learned that during an election season Mich.e.l.le's dad was lucky to be home once a month. He left the running of the household entirely to Mich.e.l.le's mother who doted on Mich.e.l.le's brothers while insisting on absolute perfection from Mich.e.l.le. What really killed Yuki was that despite the ill treatment, Mich.e.l.le was desperate for her mother's approval and slowly turned herself into a replica of her mother, immensely insecure on the inside, cold and brutal on the outside.

At least until she met Owen.

Yuki said that Owen had been the first man to break through that bulls.h.i.+t mask of perfection, and he helped Mich.e.l.le realize that her mother was totally f.u.c.ked in the head. While Wyatt was still jealous of the hold the dead man had on Mich.e.l.le's heart, he was also thankful that Owen had been there and gave her the unconditional love she so desperately needed. According to Yuki, if Mich.e.l.le hadn't met Owen his beautiful Dominatrix would probably be in a mental inst.i.tution by now or her mother's puppet. Unable to resist the need to give Mich.e.l.le all the love she could handle, to drill it into her head that she was worthy of his love, Wyatt pulled her into his arms and gave her a sound kiss.

She looked up at him with a bright smile that softened as she studied his face. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, rubbing his thumb along the side of her graceful throat. "I was just thinking about what a lucky man I am to have such an amazing woman."

Her pleased flush made him feel like a hero. "Thank you, but I think I'm the lucky one."

Shaking his head, he led her to her seat and sat next to her. "No way, baby. I'm just a beat-to-s.h.i.+t old Marine. You're a G.o.ddess."

Instead of smiling, she sighed and looked out the window. "Don't put me on too high of a pedestal, Wyatt. I'm still human and it's a long fall back to reality."

Trying to lighten the mood, he kissed the back of her hand. "Thank f.u.c.k. Otherwise, I'd never have stood a chance. Besides, climbing pedestals is hard work. I'd much rather have you down here on earth with me."

She made a soft sound in the back of her throat and continued to look out the window, her gaze distant and troubled. While he wanted to know what was bothering her, now wasn't the time. Yuki and James were taking their seat across from them, and Yuki soon had Mich.e.l.le talking about all the shopping they wanted to do in Chicago, and the different places they would take Wyatt since it was his first time in the city. He relaxed back in his chair and watched Mich.e.l.le, wondering if his Domina knew that she didn't have to pretend to be perfect with him.

Chapter 3.

Mich.e.l.le fought to control her pulse as she drove her rental car onto the driveway of her parent's mansion outside of Chicago. The sprawling estate was beautiful; it was perfect, and it looked like it would be offended if anyone actually used it. Much like her mother.

She eased the car down the long drive, now strung with Chinese paper lanterns. It was a charming touch that had been flawlessly executed by the hand of a professional decorator. Mich.e.l.le's mother didn't believe in doing any type of menial work, preferring to hire only the best for her events. When Mich.e.l.le was very young parties like this had been something her mother enjoyed doing, but after Mich.e.l.le's father had an affair, these parties went from being one of the few times her mother had been truly happy and at ease to a distasteful ch.o.r.e.

Her mother had always been a demanding, overbearing perfectionist, but it seemed like Mich.e.l.le's father's cheating broke something in her mother. Once the cameras were off, she practically froze everyone out of her life, including Mich.e.l.le, when she needed her most after Owen's death. It was like she hadn't known how to deal with Mich.e.l.le's pain and tried to cover that up by telling Mich.e.l.le to pretend it never happened.

Yeah, like that worked out real well.

Wyatt reached out and touched her cheek. "You okay, baby?"

She almost jerked her head away, then accepted his touch. Lately, she'd been tempted to order him to do things just because she said so and she was his Domme, which was complete bulls.h.i.+t and not how a BDSM relations.h.i.+p worked. But f.u.c.k it all, she couldn't be totally honest with Wyatt about how fractured her emotions and mind were. Not when he was doing so well in his battle with PTSD. He was so happy and she never wanted him to be sad again. That meant bottling her s.h.i.+t up to be dealt with at a later date when Wyatt was on more solid ground. She'd wall up the cracks in her mind and be his perfect woman, give him everything he'd ever wanted so he would never leave her. If he...G.o.d, she couldn't even think about it without her chest aching, so she just stopped thinking about it.

Focus on the positive, eliminate the negative and all that bulls.h.i.+t.

With a smile she turned and nipped his wrist, loving the way a man's skin was thin and soft in this area, but still tough and different from a woman's silken skin. His scent surrounded her and she drew in a deep lungful of his musk mixed tonight with some kind of citrus and cedar cologne that smelled divine on him. He was a feast for the senses on every level, and she loved it.

Loved him.

With a reluctant sigh she pulled up to the valet and let him lead her out. She had to be careful exiting the vehicle because her short crimson dress would give a flash of her goodies if she moved the wrong way. Said goodies were currently wrapped in a pair of red crotchless panties. At some point tonight she planned on flas.h.i.+ng Wyatt a peek and driving him crazy. She loved it when his eyes got all dark and his voice deepened into a growl. After almost twenty years in the Marines his vocal chords were shot to s.h.i.+t, and it made him even s.e.xier. When he spoke, people listened. She listened. And he was all hers.

Tonight she wore an artfully draped red Alexander McQueen dress. It actually made her look like she had a woman's set of hips and hit far above her knee. These parties were dreadfully dull so she planned on entertaining herself by tormenting Wyatt. It would also help keep his mind on her and not on other people. These political gatherings weren't for the faint of heart. The people attending were the best of the best at being backstabbing a.s.s kissers. Yes, there were some good, honorable, amazing people who attended her parent's parties, but they were far outnumbered by the lying, cheating, douchebags. She knew Wyatt probably wasn't ready for this, but she had no choice. She loved him, and if she had her way, he'd be the man she'd spend the rest of her life with. Her parents had to meet him and vice versa, so they could see what a great guy Wyatt was, and Wyatt so he could see where the road to her own personal crazy town started.

A therapist would have a field day with the way her family impacted her life over and over again. h.e.l.l, after Owen's death, the therapists her mother made her go to ended up only wanting to talk about her family, not Owen. Not that Mich.e.l.le was talking to anyone at that point. She was lucky to say more than a couple dozen words a day. There were whole weeks missing from her memory of those dark days, chunks of time that were just a blank patch in the history of her life. There were times when, looking back, she was surprised she survived her depression. Shaking off those negative thoughts, she held out her hand to Wyatt.

He'd dressed for the evening in a pair of grey slacks with a casual blue b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt and a matching grey jacket. When he smiled at her, she couldn't resist cupping his freshly shaved chin in her hand. He was so smooth just after he shaved, and she delighted in rubbing her face against his. Handsome did not even begin to describe her man and she wished they were alone right now, somewhere that she could just look at him and surround herself with his love.

Not that she could do that now. No, it was showtime, which meant Mich.e.l.le had to be 'on' at all times to charm and schmooze the guests. Thank G.o.d, this year she didn't have to suffer through her mother's attempts to set her up with different men. As if she would ever consider being married to man who'd never had to wash his own clothes, or whose idea of adversity was their favorite coffee shop running out of soy milk. Mich.e.l.le prayed that maybe, just maybe her mother would see how truly happy Wyatt made her, how very much she loved him, and not judge Wyatt on pretentious bulls.h.i.+t like how many vacation homes he had, who his parents were, and if Mich.e.l.le's dating him would be politically or socially beneficial for her mother.

They started up the front stairs of the grand Tudor-styled home and Mich.e.l.le took a deep breath, trying to still the anxiety that ramped up with every click of her heels against the stone steps. Memories of her childhood filled her mind, an endless stream of never being good enough, never being smart enough, never being perfect enough to earn her mother's love. She glanced over her shoulder at the concrete walkway leading up to the house and remembered when she'd drawn on it with chalk when she was six. It had been right before some big political event and her mother was furious that Mich.e.l.le had spoiled the manicured look of the home with her drawings. It was easy enough for the gardener to spray the concrete clean, but Mich.e.l.le's mother had flipped out. Mich.e.l.le could still remember her oldest brother interceding, telling their mom to back off. Thankfully, her mother had listened to him, but Mich.e.l.le would never forget that day. While her mother never, ever touched her in a violent manner, there hadn't been a whole lot of sanity in her mom's gaze.

A s.h.i.+ver worked its way down Mich.e.l.le's spine as she remembered the four, sometimes five-hour screaming lectures about embarra.s.sing the family with her selfishness, how she upset her father with her lack of self-control, and how she was nothing but a spoiled brat. She had to be better, faster, more skilled, smarter, work harder, and most especially of all, be so perfect a man would never betray her. Mich.e.l.le's adult mind knew her mother had been way the f.u.c.k out of line, but even now as they approached the home, with each step, Mich.e.l.le found herself growing more and more fearful that she'd somehow mess up and earn her mother's wrath. She had to be constantly aware of being watched, always on her guard, and never, ever do anything to disgrace her family.

As they approached the front door, Wyatt tugged on her hand. "If you want to make a break for it, just let me know. I'll fake food poisoning or some s.h.i.+t."

She smiled at him and allowed herself one brief, delicious kiss, the warmth of his mouth chasing away the icy memories and grounding her in the moment. Her heart swelled with love for him and she paused for a moment, letting her gaze roam his rugged features then gave him a small smile, trying to put how much she loved him into her eyes as she said, "My guardian angel."

His flush was barely noticeable beneath his tan and made him all the more entrancing.

The sharp, cold tone of her mother's beautiful voice floated down the stairs. "Mich.e.l.le, how good to see you."

Turning on her heel, she gathered her courage and faced her mother. Tonight, the esteemed Mrs. Sapphire wore an impeccable white c.o.c.ktail dress with a tastefully ruffled hem. From the top of her carefully styled blonde head to the tips of her toes she was flawless. Feelings of inadequacy rushed through Mich.e.l.le as her mother gave her outfit a slight look of disdain.

Well, she'd managed to disappoint her mother before she'd even said a word. She could practically hear her mother cataloging her faults, the short dress, her slightly mussed hair, how she didn't wear jewelry that perfectly matched. The look of disapproval tightening her mother's lips made Mich.e.l.le's stomach churn.