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 her robe, 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 heels and 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 pulling out 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 when Bastian called her out and made jabs about her terrible parenting. “Especially if Eleanor and Robert come with us.”
“We’re getting a hotel room.” He said firmly, pulling on his white dress shirt and buttoning it up.
“I don't think we're allowed to stay at her house again anyway,” Mirabelle smirked. Their last visit to Dallas had blown up in a spectacular fashion, and her mother was put in a timeout until she apologized to Bastian for her comments. “Don't worry, Bast. We'll only see her for her birthday. Eleanor and I have other plans, and you and Robert can do your golf thing.”
“But you're going to go to the pole dancing lessons, right?” He looked up at her through his eyelashes with a smirk.
“That's one of the plans, yes.” Mirabelle laughed. “Eleanor has never done it and wants to try.”
Bastian pulled his sports jacket on and did up the button just as there was a knock at the door. “That's our cue, Bunny.” He held out his elbow to her. “Allow me to escort you to dinner.”
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They were finishing their dinner and listening to Eleanor tell them about her art exhibit at ARTECHOUSE when her phone chimed several times. She pulled it out of her purse, apologizing as she shut off the volume and quickly looked at the texts.
“Well.” She grinned at her mother and Mirabelle. “Looks like we're doing a scavenger hunt tomorrow evening. There's an app each team has to download, and each team has to pay their participation fees, which is thirty-five dollars per team. I just got the information from Eddie.”
“A scavenger hunt?” Francesca frowned. “What kind of scavenger hunt?”
Eleanor cleared her throat and began to read: “Your creative, nontraditional scavenger hunt begins at local favourite Avalon Cafe and Kitchen at four-thirty for a quick meal, then at six, you'll get your digital quest from your live and interactive remote host. Finally, you'll take off on your own to experience various carefully curated locations in town, walking or driving to the various checkpoints as you solve clues, accept wacky challenges, and get outside your comfort zone!”
“That doesn't sound too bad except for the fact that I know nothing about Ann Arbor,” Mirabelle said apologetically.
“Oh yeah, it's one hundred percent geared so that the bride and her university friends have the advantage. Eleanor nodded. “We all live in and/or grew up in New York.”
“We'll just have to spend tomorrow learning about Ann Arbor,” Francesca said, distaste evident in her voice.
“Or.” Mirabelle leaned forward conspiratorially. “And hear me out here. We give it a real college try, but for every clue we don't figure out, we go to the nearest bar and have a drink.”
“I'm down for that.” Eleanor's smile was huge. “Mother?”
“That does sound like a much better plan.” Francesca nodded, looking much happier.
“Just let me send a message to Lila and Caroline, letting them know what we're doing and what the plan is.” She did, and they both answered quickly that they thought that was a great idea.
Bastian frowned, not looking happy at the thought of them wandering around a town they didn’t know and drinking. “As long as you promise to make sure your phones are fully charged, you stick together and don't get arrested for public intoxication.”
Mirabelle put her hand over her heart, and the other two women quickly followed suit. “We promised to have our phones fully charged and to stick together.”
“And the public intoxication?” Robert raised his eyebrow, also looking concerned.
“We don't know how many clues we'll get wrong; how can we possibly promise that?” Mirabelle shrugged with a grin as they got ready to leave.
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After their meal, they walked fifteen minutes to the Detroit Riverwalk and checked out a few of the memorials and statues surrounding the Horace E. Dodge fountain. Then, they walked along to the Waterview Loft, crashed a wedding reception, and had a drink before sneaking away and heading back to their hotel.
“I swear, for a couple of lawyers in your late thirties, you two behave like children.” Francesca was laughing as they walked back. “I can't believe we let you talk us into that.
Bastian grinned, his arm around Mirabelle’s waist as she leaned on him for support, her feet killing her after walking around all evening in her heels. “I'm surprised you gave in as easily as you did.”
“Ah, we didn't hurt anyone,” Mirabelle smiled tiredly. “And we all wrote them a check for two hundred and fifty dollars and put it in their wishing well for their honeymoon, so I think it worked out in their favour.”
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Back in their hotel room, Mirabelle dropped into the armchair and pulled off her shoes with a sigh. “That's better.” Bastian chuckled as he removed his clothes, stripping down to his boxers quickly before coming over to her and holding his hand out to her, helping her to her feet and kissing her as he walked her over to the bed. There was a quiet desperation in the kiss. As his lips moved over hers, he ran his hands down to her waist and pulled her in tightly to him, running his hands over her back as his tongue probed her lips. She opened her mouth with a sigh, and he lightly teased her tongue.
He pulled back, looking into her eyes. “You look incredible, Mira. I've been thinking about getting you back here all evening.” He slowly unbuttoned her dress, pressing kisses along the skin he exposed and running his hands along every inch of her as he did. When he was done, he dropped it in a pile on the floor, picked her up, placed her in the center of the bed, removed his boxer shorts, and climbed in to position himself over her. His face was a mask of desperation as he kissed her repeatedly and pulled her bra and underwear off.
Mirabelle moaned softly and reached for him, running her hands across his back, feeling his muscles ripple under her touch. His hand went between her thighs, gently stroking her, running his fingers from her clit down to her dripping core and dipping inside her before pulling out and sliding back to her clit. He circled it lightly, then pushed back inside her again. She moaned loudly. “Fuck Bastian, that feels amazing.” And arched herself up toward him.
He stopped kissing her and watched her face as he worked to bring her to orgasm, sliding back and forth between her clit and inside her. Her eyes closed, and she began to shake and whimper as he brought her closer. “Look at me, Mirabelle.” He demanded. Her eyes opened and found him. He held her gaze as his steady, consistent rhythm brought her to the brink, and just as she flew over the edge, he kissed her again, capturing her wordless cries and moans, and positioned himself to push into her. She cried out his name as a second orgasm rocked through her when he entered her.
“There's my good girl,” Bastian murmured as he slowly rocked back and forth, his eyes never leaving her face. “My gorgeous, perfect girl.” He reached down between them and found her clit again. Her eyes widened and met his.
“Bast, I can't; it's too much.” She gasped. Her body was singing, and the intense heat and pressure radiating outward from all the sensations were going to overwhelm her.
“Yes, you can, Bunny.” He encouraged her, although he did ease up on her a little. “I've got you; I won't let you go. Just relax, Honey, and let me take care of you. I love you so much, Mira.”
She whimpered as her body trembled. He held her gaze, keeping a slow and steady pace, and light, gentle pressure on her clit, allowing her time to work through all the sensations. “Are you okay, Love?” He asked gently, wanting to increase his speed but not wanting to overwhelm her. She wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him down to kiss her.
“Yes,” she murmured against his lips. “Faster, please.”
Bast smiled. “Such a polite request.” He picked up his pace and increased his pressure on her clit. Mira moaned as the tension began to build inside of her again. “Fuck I love the sounds you make.” He groaned. “You're mine. All mine. Say it, Mira.”
“I'm yours, Bast, no one else, never anyone else.” She panted, her nails digging into his shoulders. He growled in satisfaction, and the sound sent her over. Her walls pulsed around him, and he groaned her name loudly, letting himself go. He rolled to the side and pulled her to him, holding her tightly and kissing her again.
“I'm yours, Mira, always have been,” Bastian muttered as he drifted off.