Born to Make You Smile

TWENTY-SIX

I watched the wedding guests arrive, their low chatter barely audible over the soft music of the string quartet in the corner. The church was gorgeously decorated with cream floral arrangements in tall vases.

The groom, Theo, stood tall, shifting his weight from side to side, patiently awaiting his bride.

“I still can’t get over how beautiful you look,” Gavin whispered. His jaw about fell to the floor when he first saw me in the black gown. Apparently, I took his breath away.

My eyes went to Gavin, dashing in his black tuxedo and bow tie.

I leaned close. “You know, you look just like James Bond.”

He smiled smugly. “Look? Perhaps I really am.”

I bit my lip, holding back a giggle.

“That bracelet looks divine on you,” he murmured.

I ran my finger along the surface. The multitude of diamonds sparkled, reflecting the sunlight from the stained-glass windows. I still couldn’t comprehend the price. I’d never owned a piece of jewelry this expensive and extravagant before, and it continued to fill me with discomfort.

“Thank you.” I pressed my lips together, hiding any hesitations.

We all rose to stand as the string quartet played “Canon in D.” Kira walked down the aisle, arm in arm with her father.

The stunning bride was draped in a simple white A-line dress with a sweetheart neckline and lace sleeves, her long black hair pinned in a neat updo.

The couple incorporated many cultural traditions into the ceremony and reception. There was a beautiful sake-sharing ceremony to honor Kira’s Japanese heritage, as well as Greek music and dancing for the groom’s side.

There was an assortment of food at the buffet—cabbage pancakes, tempura, gyoza, lamb skewers, stuffed grape leaves, and spanakopita. I had to hold myself back, or I would surely burst out of my beautiful dress. Not to mention, I had to squeeze into my maid’s costume later. A tight knot in my belly made me shift in my seat. I had no idea how I was going to duck out of here early.

As we had dessert, I kept my eye on the time. It was eight. I had two hours, minus the ten minutes it’d take to get to X-PLORE from here. Plenty of time. I was tempted to cancel, but I’d already given Ashna my word. She needed me, and I desperately needed that extra cash.

“Care for a dance?” Gavin asked, then whispered, “Surely I’m permitted to dance with my wonderful assistant.”

“Of course.”

We held one another with a good distance between us and began to move to Elvis Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” As much as I wanted to, I resisted resting my face on his chest.

“So. I’ve been doing some thinking,” he murmured as we swayed. “I thought maybe we could slowly start telling people. Start with the office. The girls. Then eventually, my family.”

I grinned, pleased that he was ready to take our relationship to the next step. “You’re sure? You know there’ll likely be pushback. A lot of judgment.”

He sighed. “Yes. I understand the risks, but you’re so important to me, Grace. I’d rather start telling people than have them find out and think we’re having some sort of scandalous fling. I want people to know we’re together. A couple.”

“So I’m more than a fling?”

He spun me, then brought me close. The heat of his body made my skin tingle. “Of course, love. You were never a fling. You were always so much more. And I think that scared me a little.”

I stepped back and swayed my hips, sultry winding, then he brought me in again. He was such a great dancer, leading and commanding. It really turned me on.

“You’re killing me in that dress,” he whispered, his eyes dark with lust. “Bloody hell. I want to ravage you.”

A wave of arousal rushed to my core, and my nipples hardened. The tension between us was unyielding. I craved him so badly that my body was about to burst.

I gazed up at him, my lashes fluttering.

“Then ravage me, Mr. Bond,” I taunted.

He groaned with frustration.

“I noticed the hall next door empty.” He turned his head side to side as if to make sure no one overheard. “I’ll meet you there in five.”

“Yes, okay.” I nodded, a rush jolting through me.

He lifted a brow. “By the way, what’s your name, beautiful?”

“Peach. Petunia Peach.”

His face flickered with uncertainty for a moment, then he nodded. “Such a pretty name.”

Peach was the first thing that came into my head. I hope he didn’t make any connection with Bill Salinger. It was too late now.

I broke away from him. “You’ll have to excuse me.”

My heart raced with adrenaline as I made my way to the empty hall. What we were doing was so wrong, so risky, but I couldn't resist. My desire for him was too great. I didn't even know what he would do to me, but I knew I needed him. I waited and waited, my heart pounding.

The sound of footsteps made me jump. My entire body pulsed at the handsome sight of him in the dimly lit hall.

“Miss Peach,” he murmured.

“Mr. Bond.” I bit my lip. “I thought you’d never show.”

“I’m a man of my word.”

Then he came at me with every ounce of built-up hunger in his blood, his mouth furiously meeting mine. My knees went weak, and my body trembled in response to the possessiveness of his kiss and touch. He trailed his warm lips down my neck as he pinned me up against the wall, the thick evidence of his intense excitement pressing on me. Blood rushed to my core, and I could feel the dampness in my panties building into a puddle of lust.

“Mr. Bond. We can’t.”

He pushed his mouth against me, ignoring my plea, then he pulled the top of my dress and bra down enough to expose my left breast. He ran his thumb over my tight nipple before putting the peak into his mouth. He licked and sucked, and a furious bolt ran straight to my lower body. I let out a staggered moan.

He put his mouth to my ear. “I'm going to make you come.”

His firm order sent a rush through me.

“But you have to be quiet. Can you come quietly, now?”

I let out a whispered, “Yes.”

“Such a good Peach.”

He skimmed his hands down the length of my dress, caressing my hips. He ran his hands up through the slit of my dress, tracing his fingers on my bare thighs, then higher over my lace panties.

“Good,” he whispered, his voice smooth. “No gun.”

I smirked. “Maybe it’s hidden somewhere else.”

“Then rest assured, I’ll find it.”

He yanked my panties down, and they trickled to my ankles, leaving a wet trail on my inner thigh.

He pushed his thumb against my swollen clit, stroking my sensitive pad with persistent oscillations. I writhed, becoming weak with desire.

He teased and circled the tip of his middle finger over my dripping wet opening, slightly entering, thrusting into me, in and out, over and over until finally he drove it all the way in. He pushed his palm against my clit, moving his whole hand in relentlessly focused circles.

A flood of pleasure came over me. His movements felt so good I knew it wouldn't take much longer for me to explode. However, I became worried that I wouldn't be able to keep quiet.

I was lost in passion as I began to grind onto him, clenching my walls down hard on the length of his finger.

I began to pant heavily. I couldn't control my voice; each breath came out as a whimper.

“Hush now, Miss Peach,” he whispered, looking at me. “Do I need to gag you?”

Oh my God.

“Maybe,” I murmured, continuing to whimper.

He shoved the edge of his other hand into my mouth to stop the sounds coming out of me. The climb of immense pressure slowly built in my core. He pounded his palm forcefully against my sex, moving his finger as deep as it would go.

I gently bit down on his warm, salty skin as my climax reached its peak, waves upon waves of euphoria flowing through my entire body. My limbs quivered in the afterglow, and he pulled his finger out and removed his other hand away from my mouth. There was just enough light that I could see his face clearly. His fierce gaze burned into mine as he put his coated middle finger in his mouth and sucked it clean, releasing a quiet moan.

My head spun, and I blinked at him, catching my breath. I couldn’t believe all that just happened—the sneaking away, the role-playing, the domination. Not to mention the mind-blowing orgasm he gave me.

He leaned close to me and whispered, “Let's go back in there, my delicious Peach, and act like this never happened.”

***

“Something isn’t agreeing with me,” I said with a wince.

Gavin frowned. “What do you mean? Are you all right?”

I clutched my belly. “Yeah. My stomach feels...not good. I ate way too much. That baklava did me in. Way too rich. You know what? I think I might have to head home.”

“Let me come with you.”

“No,” I said quickly. Shit. How was I going to get out of this? He was so protective; there was no way he’d let me take a taxi on my own. I let out a groan again, actually starting to feel sick as my stomach tumbled with nerves. “You have to stay. For Kira. Your employee. It’s important to her that you’re here. Plus, people will talk and maybe get the wrong idea if we go home together.”

He nodded, comprehending my words. “Hmm. Yes, I don’t want them to figure us out quite yet. But I don’t like the idea of you going on your own. Especially in your condition.”

“I’m not a child, Gavin. I’ll be fine.” I pat his hand, assuring. “I just need to take an antacid and lie down.”

“You sure you’ll be okay? I can’t believe you’ll miss the countdown. I was looking forward to spending New Year’s together. The girls are at my sister’s, so I figured we could spend the night together at my place.”

Guilt stabbed me like a sword, slicing right between my ribs.

I grimaced. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize.” He smiled. “Text me as soon as you get home. Have some ginger ale. And get plenty of rest. I wish I could help you.”

“Thanks, Gavin.”

In my entire life, I’d never felt so shitty, so completely repulsed with myself.

***

I didn’t get home from X-PLORE until four o’clock. Every single muscle in my body, every bone, every hair follicle on my head ached. I was so exhausted that I’d almost fallen asleep in my wig.

I awoke to my doorbell ringing. I glanced at my phone to see the time—11:14 a.m. Holy shit. Then I noticed several text messages and missed calls from Gavin from about an hour ago. Thankfully, I’d remembered to send him a message last night at the club to let him know I got home safely.

I opened the front door to see a solemn-looking Gavin. Oh God. What happened? My brain immediately went to the worst-case scenario. Are the girls okay?

“Good morning, Gavin,” I said with a hand on my neck. “Happy New Year. Is everything okay?”

He shook his head without a response. His serious expression turned icy, and it made my stomach tumble.

“May I come in?” he mumbled. “It’s rather cold.”

“Of course.” I stepped aside.

He removed his coat and boots, then we moved into the family room to sit down. I offered him a hot beverage, but he abruptly declined.

“So, Grace, how are you feeling?” he asked harshly, not actually sounding concerned with my well-being. He rolled up the sleeves of his gray sweater, revealing his strong forearms.

I smiled, pushing through the awkwardness. “A lot better thanks.”

“I’m glad. A full night’s rest seemed to do the trick.” His tone came across as snarky and sarcastic.

I frowned. “What's wrong? You seem…off.”

“Well, I suppose I should be asking you the same question. Last night, I couldn’t sleep a wink worrying about you. Then, during the wee hours of the morning, I happened to hear a car pulling into your driveway. I went to my window to look. And what I saw was a taxi. A woman who bore a striking resemblance to you but with bright orange hair got out.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I tried to think of an excuse, anything, but at this point, I had nothing. I knew I had to confess. My lies were killing me. Killing us.

“And what a surprise,” he continued. “You didn’t appear sick at all.”

I shook my head, ashamed.

“Now, I think you owe me an explanation. Because my mind is swarming with possibilities. Perhaps I’m, in fact, not enough, and you’re seeking companionship elsewhere with another man. And that kills me because I thought we had something very special.”

“Come on, Gavin. You know I’m not seeing anyone but you.”

His jaw clenched. “Then tell me. Where the bloody hell did you go last night?”

The stark tone and volume of his voice shook me. I inhaled a deep breath. “I work at a nightclub. And they needed me there for New Year's Eve.”

“A nightclub,” he repeated, with narrow eyes.

I tilted my head. “It’s a kink club. Where Dorina’s sister works.”

“What are you doing there?” He drew his head back, looking horrified. “Are you performing sexual favors?”

“No!” I proclaimed. “I’m a bartender and server on Tuesday and Thursday nights. I dress up in sexy costumes, but that’s as far as it goes.”

He shifted on his feet, then rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Why on God’s given earth would you work at a place like that?”

I sighed, unsure if I wanted to tell him everything. How desperate I was for the money. He’d definitely pity me. Or he’d be angry that I didn’t tell him I was struggling. It would open up a whole new jar of turnips.

“It was a favor,” I said. “The club needed help, so Dorina’s sister Vanessa came to me since I used to be a bartender. And the job’s not permanent, only a short-term contract. It’s over at the end of the month. The club is actually really great. And it’s not all sex. It’s about so much more. Sensuality, kink, discovery. The club helped me discover who I am. My asexuality.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “I’m glad it’s a good work environment and that it helped you find your way, but that doesn’t change the fact that you lied to me. I’m so disappointed, Grace.” He put a hand on his forehead. “You led me to believe you were enrolled in an art class. You lied to me last night when you left. You know, if you would have been honest with me, perhaps I would have understood.”

My chest ached, a painful squeeze. He was so disappointed in me, not for the nature of my night job but for lying.

“I’m so sorry for lying to you. I was scared you’d fire me if you found out. But now, I guess that’s it. You probably don’t want to see me again. And I can probably kiss my job at your office goodbye.”

“I’m not letting you go. But as for us, I’ll need time to process this. I feel like everything we’ve built, all the trust between us, has been shattered.”

I moved closer and put my hand on his. But he pulled away. My heart cracked.

“No. Don’t. I need time.”

“Okay,” I said quietly. “How much time?”

“I don’t know. Until the blood in my veins cools off.” He pulled the sleeves of his sweater down. “Speaking of which, it’s very chilly in this house. Do you have your heating on?”

I blinked. “Oh. Yeah. I usually keep it on the lower side.”

Now that he mentioned it, it was cooler than usual. I suppose I hadn’t felt it due to his heated presence.

He stood. “Before I go, I do have one more question. Bill Salinger. He referred to your orange wig. And he called you Peach. What was that all about? Is he a member there at the club?”

“I’m not in a position to disclose our members due to client confidentiality. But I can tell you my alias at the club is, in fact, Peach. And I wear a costume with an orange wig.”

“Peach.” He scoffed. “I thought so. What kind of costume?”

“It varies. Some nights I dress up as a schoolgirl. I was an elf for Christmas. Last night, I wore a maid outfit.”

“A maid?” Something flashed in his eyes, a flicker of intrigue. “Well, I best be getting home.”

As I watched him leave, my heart sank to the floor.