7 Not So Silent Night
NOT SO SILENT NIGHT
Lucy
W e survive dinner unscathed and are finally on the way to our room, calling it a day with five more to go. Surprisingly, Trevor was a good buffer at dinner, keeping the conversation from taking a nosedive at any point by taking over when necessary. I wasn’t expecting him to be so helpful after his animosity toward Justin at the airport, but he must have decided to save me from any more torture than necessary.
Mom and Dad drilled Justin about his business and made rude assumptions about its size and significance, but he did well to set them straight on all counts. He remained confident and poised throughout the entire inquisition. Justin’s pride in his company showed as he spoke of all he’s accomplished and the growth sustained since its inception.
He briefly discussed his service in the military, which I knew about, but further explained how it inspired him to pursue a career in security. He noticeably avoided his childhood, other than where he grew up, sticking to his more recent years. Although I’m curious about his past, my parents didn’t seem fazed.
I’m sure Dad will dig deeper when he gets an opportunity for a one-on-one interrogation, but for now, Justin is holding his own, which is impressive for someone who walked into this blindly.
Speaking of, I’m dreading returning to our room where he’ll finally have me alone and will no doubt drill me about my elusiveness. I’ve done so well avoiding scrutiny, but now that the cat’s out of the bag, I’ll have no choice but to come clean about everything. Well, not everything, but more than I want to.
Being put in the same room is an unfortunate situation. I still can’t believe our sleeping arrangements didn’t occur to me sooner. A pep talk from myself would have been excellent preparation for the awkwardness. While the butterflies in my stomach are about to burst free, Justin opens the door to our room, ushering me through.
To make matters worse, there’s a printed schedule for the week waiting for us on the sitting room table, but on the flip side, there’s a bottle of chilled champagne to congratulate the newly engaged couple.
“Thank God for small favors,” I say as I unwrap the cork.
As expected, he doesn’t waste any time jumping in while I open the bottle, which I’m sure can’t do anything but help at this point. “An actual itinerary for the week? What the fuck, Lucy? Were you hoping I wouldn’t notice the size of the house? The butler? There’s a maid, for Christ’s sake. Could you have at least given me a heads-up? I would’ve been more prepared and made sure to pack appropriately. Hell, maybe I wouldn’t have looked shell-shocked and made an ass out of myself in front of your brother—who, by the way, already has it out for me, thanks to you.”
“Nope, that’s all thanks to you.” The death glare he gives me as I hold out a glass for him is harsh. “Okay, that’s not the point. Look, yeah, I probably should have prepared you a little more. It’s not something I like to talk about. It’s the main reason I stay as far away as possible from this place. And what does it matter? You’ll be here a week and never see them again, so who cares?” Why does that bother me more than it should?
“I do. And you should, too, for that matter. I’m your fiancé . Although, according to your father, it sounds like I’ll have to pass some crazy ass test if that means dick around here.”
Yeah, he’s angry. “Okay, so I didn’t mention my family’s wealth. And forgot to tell you that my parents weren’t expecting you. Aaand, yes, I told my brother what an ass you are. But—”
“What an ass I am or was ? Because I’m pretty sure I’m here saving yours.” He downs his whole glass of champagne and holds it out for a refill. Maybe he’ll soften up with one more.
“I guess we can call ourselves even then. Maybe. Or maybe not. We’ll see after this week if you’ve worked up to that.”
He sighs in frustration and retreats with his full glass to the closet. “I’m getting comfortable, and then we’ll continue this conversation.” A few seconds later, the door to the bathroom closes, giving me a much-needed reprieve.
I will admit, only to myself, that in hindsight, I may have made a few mistakes where Justin is concerned. However, in my defense, this is a unique situation. I mean, what if I told my parents and they said he couldn’t come? What good would that have done? And where would we be if I hadn’t told my brother the truth, and he saw right through us, as siblings tend to do, and ended up making this even more difficult?
Why is it that in the heat of an argument, I can never think on my feet to make a good case, but after, I’m chock-full of reason? Ugh.
How is this situation going to work? There’s no way we can sleep in the same bed together. No, absolutely not. And before he gets any ideas, I’m taking control by making him a bed on the couch. That’s precisely what I’m in the middle of doing when he finally emerges from the bathroom after what feels like an eternity and silences my muddled thoughts with the sight before me.
Gulp . I will myself to look away, but my eyes refuse. Dammit. He’s shirtless. I mean, come on… he’s purely fucking with me right now by putting his defined V on display right above his waistband. The sweats he’s wearing aren’t helping my panty-melting situation with their formfitting style that accentuates what I happen to know he’s packing between those muscular thighs, which I’m also very familiar with.
“What are you doing, Lucy?”
Did his voice turn sultry, or did I drink too much? I look at my glass and see that it is indeed empty. It’s for sure the champagne. My mind is playing tricks on me.
“Uh… getting your bed ready?” Hmm. Did that sound provocative? It certainly wasn’t supposed to—unless it was my lady parts talking.
“That’s funny because there’s already a bed ready for me”—he points behind him—“right there.”
Damn, all this talk of beds isn’t good for me, but my mouth doesn’t get the memo. “That’s my bed. This is yours.” I point down to the couch I’ve set up with blankets and a pillow.
“You expect my six-foot-four frame to sleep comfortably on that less than six-foot couch? Hmm… I think the ginormous king will do just fine, but I appreciate your effort. Ready for a refill?” he says as he walks closer with his empty glass.
“What took you so long in there anyway?”
He looks at me pointedly. “You really want to know?”
Fucking champagne.
“Never mind. It’s my turn. To use the bathroom, I mean, not the other thing.” I hurry toward the bathroom.
“Let me know if you need any help.”
“I’m locking the door, don’t even think about it.”
“Oh, I’ll be thinking about it.”
“Ugh.” I stop at the closet to grab my pajamas, then head into the bathroom, locking the door immediately. No more champagne for me.
Justin
This is too much fun.
Taking care of myself was a necessary evil with what I knew was coming. There’s no way I would have been able to lie next to Lucy and keep my cock under control. I’m not nearly satisfied, but at least taking the edge off will help because we will be sleeping next to each other—unless her stubbornness wins out.
Using sound reasoning, I fill my glass with more champagne, knowing it won’t be good tomorrow, and who wastes hundred-dollar bottles of the good stuff? Certainly not me. With the glass in one hand and the schedule in the other, my legs carry me to the bed. Picking up my phone, I take some time to catch up on messages while waiting for Lucy. Work goes on without me since jobs are assigned to others, but I still need to be available for any major issues.
I’m still surprised dinner went as well as it did. Other than her father being an arrogant asshole, I’d say we made it through the first day unscathed. However, it could’ve gone even smoother if Lucy had been up-front with me about a few things. In fact, it’s Lucy’s turn for the third degree before we call it a day. If she thinks she’s getting away with blindsiding me like this, she’s got another thing coming.
The door to the bathroom opens, and Lucy materializes in front of me wearing Christmas pajamas with dancing reindeer saying, “All the jingle ladies.” I can’t stop myself from breaking out in laughter.
She looks down. “What? It’s not that funny. And why are you in the bed?”
I pull myself together enough to answer, “No, it’s not. This whole situation is, though.”
“I guess that’s one thing we can agree on. What we aren’t in agreement on is the sleeping arrangement.”
“You made up the couch. You can sleep on it. Or… you could try behaving like an adult, use the other half of this massive bed, and sleep comfortably. Besides, we’re not done talking.” I grab the covers opposite me and pull them down, patting the mattress.
“Let’s not get started on the topic of behaving like an adult, or you’ll be the one talking, and frankly, I don’t want to hear it.”
With that, she turns on her heels toward the sitting room and scoops up a blanket from the couch, bringing it back. She rolls it up the long way and sets it between us.
“There. That’s the line. Not even one toe goes over it.” She climbs into the bed, abruptly yanking the covers over her, crossing her arms defiantly with a huff.
“You’re cute when you pout, you know that? I’ve never seen this side of you.”
“You haven’t spent enough time with me to see my many sides.” She looks down and grabs the paper next to her. “Do you want to go over the schedule, or what?”
The fucking schedule. What kind of family does that? There’s a new surprise around every corner when it comes to Lucy and her world. I’d like to reduce the amount of them.
“First, start talking. What do I need to know before your dad corners me for this discussion we’re supposedly having? It doesn’t look good for either of us if it goes badly, so cut the crap with the secretive shit.” I’m done playing nice guy until she gives a little in return.
She rolls her eyes before speaking. “Everything is about money to him. It’s all he’s ever cared about, so anything he says or asks will likely have to do with that. Job, future plans, background. He’ll probably want to know how secure you are financially, and I’m sure there will be mention of a prenup. Just go along with whatever he says, and you should be fine. Like I said, after this week, none of it matters.”
I nod my head in acceptance.
I’m not leaving anything to chance at this point. “Your mom bought our proposal story, but now she keeps trying to pin us down on wedding plans. Do we want to keep blowing it off or come up with something to appease her? I’d like the rest of the week to be less awkward than it was today, and that’s only going to happen if we start communicating more.”
“Okay, yeah, you’re right. We should come up with something. But first, how about we pretend for a second that we are interested in each other and ask questions that we would ask a potential spouse? I’ll go first. Do you want kids?”
My head jerks back at the turn in conversation. This wasn’t quite where I thought she was going, but it’s not a bad idea, so I’ll roll with it. Except… “I don’t know. I’ve never been asked that or even considered it.”
“Well, you better decide—because I wouldn’t say yes to marrying you if I didn’t know.”
“Do you want kids?”
“Yes. I want a boy and a girl just like me and my brother. The girl will be named Victoria, and the boy will be named Trevor after my brother.”
“Ha. That’s not happening. I’m not having my daughter teased her whole life. ‘Oooh, Victoria… want to share your secret?’ Absolutely not. I could get on board with Trevor, but only if we mend fences.”
“Oh my God. You have no say since these aren’t your children.”
“Really? Should we let your mom know about this?”
She flings her hands up in frustration before snatching my glass of champagne, taking a big gulp and setting it down. “You’re seriously impossible. Children or not, answer the question. Or do we agree on two?”
“I’m good with two, names debatable. My turn. You haven’t changed your mind about Thailand for the honeymoon, have you? Because I’m all for it.”
Her jaw drops as she looks at me. “You remembered?”
“Of course I did, baby. You…” I point to her, then bring my pointer fingers together before making a circle. “…complete me.”
Grabbing the pillow behind her back, she whacks me with it while laughing. “You’re awful.”
Laughing along with her, I rip the pillow out of her hands and toss it on the floor. My hands reach for her hips and push her down before I climb on top, caging her in. “You. Are. Irresistible.”
My lips crash to hers, and without hesitation, she kisses me back fervently, as if her life depends on it. And at this moment, it does because nothing could stop me from devouring her right here, right now.
My tongue battles for more, wanting what it’s been denied for so long. It’s like we were never apart with how familiar this feels. My hand winds its way into her hair and tugs, causing her to moan into my mouth, making my cock throb. I grind into her, looking for relief, but the second she feels me, her hands press hard on my chest and push me away.
“Stop. No, this isn’t part of the plan. I may not have had one to begin with, but even if I did, this wouldn’t be included.”
Easing back, I can’t help that the first thing I notice is her chest heaving up and down, making her breasts rise with every breath. At least I know she’s just as into it as I am. Fuck, I didn’t mean to move so quickly. My goal was to take it slow and slide back into the easiness between us. But fuck if I’m not just as powerless with her now as I was back then.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” Rolling back to my side, I exhale loudly in frustration, partly at myself, but more so sexually. My cock is hard as a fucking rock and dying for another release. As easy as it would be to slink away and do just that, the more important thing to do is stay and make this right.
“I swear it wasn’t my intention. While you were getting ready for bed, I specifically schooled myself to behave. But damn, I meant it when I said you were irresistible—”
She starts to cut me off, but I stop her by putting my hand up and continuing, “But… I promise I won’t make another move—until you beg for it.”
“That will not be happening.”
“That’s too bad.”
“For you, maybe.” She huffs and rolls over, facing away from me. “And in case you weren’t paying attention to the schedule, we’re expected at breakfast at nine tomorrow, followed by a visit to the Christmas tree farm to cut down our tree. So be ready.”
“Oh, thank God, because the seven I’ve counted so far is laughable for a mansion this size,” I say haughtily. Hearing her quiet giggle is pure satisfaction as I hit the light before closing my eyes, more content than I’ve been in months.