Page 42 of Belle Amour

“I really hope it’s not improv,” Francesca muttered. “I might have to leave if that’s the case. Trivia wouldn’t be horrible.”

“Trivia would actually be a lot of fun.” Mirabelle’s eyes lit up. “I love trivia.”

Francesca chuckled. “Then let’s hope for trivia. Will Bastian come around to the idea of a football game?”

“No.” Mirabelle shook her head quickly. “He is not a football fan at all. I'm actually a little concerned about Bastian being among all Eddie's friends in an enclosed space.”

“I wonder if I can get one of the guys to wear a GoPro or a spy camera.” Eleanor’s eyes widened excitedly. “I would love to see Bastian verbally decimate them.”

“Let's hope that's all that happens,” Mirabelle murmured. If Eddie or any of his friends came for him, Bastian wouldn’t hesitate to lay them out.

“He wouldn’t start a fight, would he?” Francesca asked, looking both worried and surprised.

“No, but he won't back down. The only reason he stopped MMA was because of the whole nose thing; he still practices, just doesn't compete anymore.” She explained. “He could have gone pro if he wanted to, and he was the star wrestler on theuniversity team. I really doubt Eddie or any of his friends could take him on.”

“Your personalized facials are ready, ladies.” A spa therapist poked her head in, and they headed to the locker room to dry off and change back into their clothes. After they got their facials done, they headed back up to their rooms to get ready for dinner.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: From a Pre-Dinner Snack to Crashing a Wedding

After a quick shower, Mirabelle was sitting at the desk in a robe, pinning her hair up using her travel mirror, when there was a knock on the door. She got up, opened the door, and smiled when she saw Bastian leaning on the doorframe. “Looking for a good time, Gorgeous?” He grinned and came in, pulling her into his arms and kissing her. “You look very relaxed and glowy.”

“I'm always up for a good time.” She smiled up at him, her hands sliding up his chest and around his shoulders. “Did you have a good afternoon?”

“I had a great time.” His hands slid from the small of her back and came to rest on her hips. “I may have invited Robert and Eleanor to New Orleans in February for Mardi Gras and golf.

Mirabelle chuckled. “And I may have invited them to Dallas for pole dancing lessons in November.”

Bastian's eyes darkened, and his hands tightened on her hips. “I'd forgotten you did those.” he tugged at the belt of herrobe, untying it and sliding it off her shoulders, dropping kisses along her shoulder. “You smell delicious, too.”

“Well, I know how much you like oranges, honey, and cream, so I chose those scents for my infusions.” Mirabelle tilted her head, giving him more access to her shoulder and neck.

“Good enough to eat.” He grinned wickedly as he backed her up to the bed.

“Bast! I have to get ready for dinner!” She protested weakly as the back of her knees hit the bed, and she dropped down. “And so do you!” Her heart was pounding, and heat pooled in her lower stomach as Bastian dropped to his knees and parted her legs.

“Don’t worry, Bunny, I just want a little pre-dinner snack.” He pushed her panties to one side and began to lick and suck. Mirabelle's eyes drifted close as her hands curled in the comforter, and she let out a low moan; Bastian was incredibly talented with his tongue and knew exactly how to make her feel amazing.

“Fuck. Bast.” She moaned, her hips bucking up, wanting more friction. Bastian hummed and latched on to her clit, sucking and swirling his tongue. His finger slipped inside, and he made the come here motion, massaging her G-spot. Mirabelle gasped and bucked her hips hard as the heat built quickly, her hands finding their way into his hair. Bastian was relentless as he worked her to her release, and it wasn’t long before her legs began to shake; when he added a second finger, pressing up and rubbing back and forth, she moaned his name loudly as she came hard, her hips lifting off the mattress as she lost control of her lower body. He kept working her through, replacing his fingers with his tongue, lapping her up. When she loosened her grip on his hair and relaxed back, he leaned back on his heelsand smiled at her, looking incredibly proud and smug about what he was able to do to her.

“I missed you too.” she panted, her body still quivering from the intensity of her orgasm.

Bastian pulled her panties back, covering her and running his fingers over the soft silk as he smoothed everything back into place. “Better get ready for dinner, Bunny; we don't want to be late.” Mirabelle sat up and grabbed a pillow, throwing it at him for teasing her. He ducked the pillow and burst into laughter as he shut the bathroom door. Mirabelle dropped her head back and grinned to herself as she heard the shower start. She'd get him back for that later, she decided.

She fixed and finished her hair and pulled on the vintage 1940s-style silk dress she bought in a Queens consignment shop. It was a champagne colour with buttons going the full length down the front, long, loose sleeves that were cinched in at the wrists, a modestly low-cut V-neck, a wide bodice that circled up to a point to meet the bottom of the vee between her breasts and hit her just below her knees with a slightly flared skirt. She did her make-up in 1940s style and was pulling on a pair of strappy heels in the same colour as her dress.

Bastian came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and rubbing another one in his hair. He stopped when he saw her, a slow smile crossing his face. “Mira... You look incredible.”

“Thank you.” She smiled and traced his chest and abs with her eyes, letting her gaze follow the treasure trail and lingering for a moment before looking back up and meeting his eyes. “So do you.”

He smiled wickedly and dropped the towel, giving her an eyeful of his erection before turning to his suitcase and pullingout a pair of boxer briefs. Mira pressed her lips together as she watched him. Bastian was just as sexy from the back as he was from the front. Broad shoulders and a muscular back that tapered in just enough to give him the vee-shape and an ass that you could bounce a quarter off. She hadn't been kidding about the waxing thing, either. He waxed select areas of his body and had a much higher pain tolerance than Mirabelle. They shared the same esthetician in New York City, and she constantly teased Mirabelle for her responses by telling her Bastian didn't whine the way she did getting her legs done when he got his balls done.

“We're going to Dallas in November?” Bastian asked as he started to get dressed.

“As long as everything is cleared up with Marie's divorce, I'd like to go down for Mom's birthday.” Mirabelle sat on the edge of the bed and watched as he pulled on a pair of charcoal grey dress pants. “You don't have to come if you don’t want to.” He didn’t get along with her mother very well at all. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her as a person; he acknowledged that she had a good heart and did her best to shield Mirabelle from what she did to earn money; he just had a much harder time forgiving her for her neglect of Mirabelle while they were growing up and tended to get sarcastic when her mom tried to remind Mirabelle of what she did for them to survive and the sacrifices she made.

“I want to,” Bastian said quickly. “I'll behave.”

“You'd better,” Mirabelle warned him teasingly. She understood Bastian’s dislike of her mom and had cut her off for a while, but then the hurricane happened, and her panic and worry about her mother while they tried to find her in the aftermath almost killed her. Her mother, for her part, resented Mirabelle's preference for Bastian and made snide comments about Bastian's sexuality and manliness, then got upset whenBastian called her out and made jabs about her terrible parenting. “Especially if Eleanor and Robert come with us.”