Hooked Up: Book 3 (17 page)

“I still don’t understand. How did she
know
for sure that those things were parts of your father?”

“You’ve been her victim, as I have. She had my cell phone hacked, too. Really dumb of me to not have caught onto that, especially in my line of business. A joke, really. I think she must have been in on a text message or conversation, or even an email to my mother. Obviously we’ve never mentioned the murder in a call or message, but Laura’s not dumb. Who knows? She’s a smart woman, she put two and two together. I’ve never admitted a thing, but she has all the evidence in her possession. With forensic labs the way they are these days: medical records; all it takes is one call from her.”

“When did she get her hands on all this?”

“When she and James were there last summer.”

“You didn’t notice it missing?”

“No. I wouldn’t have even thought to look. I’d pretty much forgotten all about it actually.”

“If she’s had everything since the summer, why has she waited until now to tell you?”

“Good question. She must have thought things with you and me would die down, fizzle out. It didn’t, she tried that stunt pretending Sophie was responsible for her accident, which nearly did the trick to split us up, but when she saw that you and I were back together, she pulled out all the stops.”

“What does she want, exactly?”

“She wants you out of the picture and for me to marry her.”

“But that’s
insane,
especially as you don’t even love her.”

Alexandre closed his lids as if locked into a deep thought and continued in a grave tone, “The truth is, after her fall she was never the same person. Shit, your whole life changes after an accident like that. They said her head wasn’t damaged in the fall, but when I think of it now I think they were wrong. I’m convinced something changed in her brain. She was so sweet before, so loving and fun. After the accident . . . well, I didn’t spend much time with her afterwards, we didn’t see each other for a couple of years, anyway, so it was hard to gauge—”

“But I thought you two were bosom buddies.”

“She left me immediately for James. Said I couldn’t look after her properly, that I was too young and she needed stability. What she really wanted—even I wasn’t stupid—was someone who was rich enough to take care of her. That’s why I worked my ass off, determined that HookedUp would be a financial success. I became driven with the idea of proving that I, too, could look after her, could be wealthy enough to take care of her. Not just her, but any future relationship, any future girlfriend or wife. I felt very proud, I still do. I’m old-fashioned in that respect. I’m the type of man who wants to be able to support my partner financially.”

“Well, why didn’t you both get back together as soon as you’d made all that money?”

“By that time I’d become good friends with James and I just wasn’t in love with Laura anymore. They came to stay in Provence and stuff. I genuinely had
no idea
she was still into me, until recently. I think the second you came along she became competitive and wanted me back. At first she was convinced that you and I would split up, but the moment she heard about our marriage she went wild with jealousy.”

“What about James? How does he feel?”

“He still hasn’t returned my calls. He got busted for dodgy tax dealings and is in financial straits. That made Laura nervous. I don’t think she loves me at all, really, I think she loves my bank balance. Plus . . . ” he hesitated.

“What?”

“James can’t have children, and she’s fixated on the idea of getting pregnant. She wants me to father her child.”

A stab of fury seized my heart, making it skip a beat. “Jesus. Why can’t she pick on a single man? Why
you
?”

“I know.”

“So she’s blackmailing you, then?”

“Exactly. But in her warped brain she believes it’s for my own good and we’ll live happily ever after.”

“Where has she got the evidence hidden?”

“She says it’s in a safety deposit box and if anything happens to her, any accident or mishap, she has instructed her lawyer to open the box and its contents with a note revealing everything.”

“What a monster!”

“Tell me about it.”

“But that’s insane! If you don’t love her, how could she have a happy life, even if she did get you back?”

“As I said, I think some chip in her brain went doolally when she had that fall. The girl I dated would never have done this. Her behavior is totally irrational. I just didn’t see it before because James was always about. He’s a good guy. We’ve done some Aston Martin and Austin Healy rallies together, he’s a nice man. It’s crazy what she’s playing at.” Alexandre buried his head in his hands and let out an exasperated sigh.

“So her idea is to have the evidence sitting in that safe deposit box forever, blackmail you throughout your ‘marriage’ so you’ll never leave her or else your mother goes to jail?”

“Yeah, that’s more or less the plan she’s got up her dirty little sleeve, although she’s not coming out and saying it directly. She pretends it’s for my own good, just in case the evidence got into ‘the wrong hands,’ she says.”

“That’s terrifying. I mean, if she were to get run over by a bus tomorrow, out comes that goddamn safe deposit box.”

“Exactly.”

“What are we going to do?”

Alexandre smiled at me. “Thank you, chérie, for using the word ‘we,’ although that’s why I’ve been so secretive—I didn’t want to get you involved in this mess.”

“Till death do us part. For better or for worse. We may not have said our vows yet, Alexandre, but I’m with you one hundred percent, whatever your decision.”

He put his arms around me and held me close to his chest. I felt his slow, strong heartbeat. His voice was low and quiet when he told me, “I love you, Pearl.”

I breathed him in. “I was so scared you wanted her back, that you were still in love with her . . . all those parting ‘goodbye’ gifts you gave me: the Porsche, the Mercedes, the apartments—”

“It was never goodbye, baby, not for a second. You needed some space to sort out your head. We needed to be apart for a little, but goodbye? Never.” He smiled, and I noticed the roguish dimple on his cheek made its signature mark. “I knew I’d see my pretty Porsche again and that we’d be vacationing in that apartment in Cap d’Antibes. You and I are forever, Pearl.”

I bit my lip just thinking about how it could have been. The agony I would have suffered. “I was scared that everything we had was a fantasy, a figment of my imagination.”

He kissed my temple. “I’m sorry I’ve put you through all this. I kept thinking I could reason with Laura, make her see sense. That’s why I saw her face to face, but she’s being impossible. Inflexible. I just don’t know what to do.”

“What does your mother say?”

“She wants to have it out with Laura, she’s furious.”

“So your mom’s husband has no idea about any of this?”

“No. Not a clue. He’s a very straightforward guy.”

“But if he loves her why would he care what she’d done? It was self-defense.”

“That’s
you
, Pearl. You think that way. But other people are more wedded to the law. A lot of men don’t get it. They don’t understand what it’s like to be bullied, day in day out, to be humiliated, threatened and abused. My stepfather’s a great guy, but he just wouldn’t understand. Besides, it’s one of those things she should have come clean with straight away when they first met. Maybe he would have forgiven her, but she didn’t dare test him. And if she let him know now what she did, it would look as if their entire marriage had been a lie all these years.”

“Do you believe Laura when she says she has it all in a safe deposit box? Maybe she’s lying.”

“Maybe she is, but I’m not in a position to risk it, to call her bluff. My mother’s life is on the line, or at least, life imprisonment, which would amount to the same thing for her.”

“I thought France was lenient with crimes of passion.”

“I’d rather my mother didn’t even spend one minute in a jail. So many years of her life were hell and finally she’s found happiness. Plus, this is all my fault. If I’d just bloody well left the evidence with her and hadn’t meddled with it all, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

I looked at my watch and then stretched my arms in the air. “We should go to bed. It’s three a.m. Let’s see if either of us comes up with a brainwave in our dreams to sort out this fiasco.”

“You dream a lot, don’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

“What have you dreamt about me?”

“There was one dream in particular that had me squirming with pleasure,” I teased, remembering the Johnny Cakes March with the sexy spanking session.

His eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah, what was that?”

“It’s my secret.”

He gave my wrist a small squeeze. “Come on, tell me.”

“No, but I will tell you another secret, if you like.”

“I’m listening.”

I put my lips to his ear. “I’m pregnant. You and I are going to have a baby.”

He knelt before me and gathered my hands in his, softly kissing each finger, his eyes brimming with emotion. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive, Pearl. If I could jump over the moon, I would. And as far as secrets go? That’s the best damn secret I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

W
AKING UP next to Alexandre was pure heaven. We dozed off last night, intertwined together like ivy, listening to each other’s heartbeats, soothed by one another’s breath. I fell asleep, dreaming of ocean waves. His smell . . . it was intoxicating, and I was reminded of how much I had missed him. The idea that I’d spent so many nights alone was heartbreaking. All those wasted hours. When we’d needed each other, when we could have helped each other. Perhaps that’s what an engagement is all about: a test to make you stronger. Although I doubted any other couple had endured what we had: unwittingly putting each other through such turmoil.

I observed him now, his lids closed in deep slumber, yet beneath the sheets another story was being told; a huge penis, smooth as alabaster, proud as the Washington monument, was puckering up the bedclothes with its rock-hard stance. I didn’t want to wake him, but I couldn’t resist. How I’d missed that core of him. I’d dreamed of it, come in my sleep thinking of it.

I nestled my head on his stomach and let my tongue flicker on the end of his crown. It was bigger than my dreams had allowed me to remember. I nipped the rounded end of it and he groaned quietly. Then I guided my tongue down his length, in semi darkness, under the sheet. I took one ball in my mouth and sucked on it languidly. His hands stroked my hair.

He flexed his hips up a notch, and he said, “Oh fuck, oh wow, I’ve missed this.” My tits were alive with desire, my nipples aflame with sensation, and I needed him to play with them. I wriggled up the bed until I was straddling him.

I leaned my breasts over his erection, took it in my hands and teased my nipples with its smooth head. Holy hotness, I was wired like an electric cable: everything was connected, and desire shot through me in pulsating tingles and spasms. My breasts had always been sensitive, but since pregnancy, even a breeze of cool air could get them excited.

Alexandre’s eyes sprang open, “Jesus, Pearl, your tits . . . I need to fuck those beautiful big, pregnant tits.”

When I’d told him last night about the Indian Ayurvedic doctor I thought he’d think she was a quack, but he said, “old wives’ tale or not, I’m not going to be the one to put it to the test.” He swore, that even if I begged him, he wouldn’t penetrate me. I wondered how long I could hold out, though.

I sucked on him, then moved my body up a bit and swirled his cock over my nipples again, mewing softly with pleasure. The wetness of my saliva made them pucker into tight, dusky-red buds; I re-positioned myself and rubbed my clit against Alexandre’s muscular thigh, as I continued teasing my nipples. I started moaning . . . from my head to my tailbone, this felt amazing.

“Fuck, your pussy’s soaked,” he murmured, thrusting his leg at me, keeping up the pressure.

I rubbed against his solid thigh, back and forth, and he pushed it hard against me so my clit was getting a real massage. I continued teasing my nipples, slapping them now, using his penis like a whip. He continued to rub his leg rhythmically against me. I grazed his erection round and round in circles on my nipples, taking it in turn with each one, as I felt the build-up, and I started coming hard . . . a series of long, slow convulsions and spasms exploded inside me, my nipples harder than bullets, stimulated beyond imagination. I let out moaning wails with every sweet spasm.

“That’s right, baby, let your little treasure come on me. I’m going to keep you coming for the rest of your life.”

I collapsed on top of him, my afterglow alight like burning embers, and after a few minutes of relaxation, he rolled me over gently, straddling me without any of his weight. His taut stomach rippled with lean muscles, and his huge cock nestled itself between my tits. He pushed them carefully together, almost enclosing his hard shaft. I took over, pressing my breasts tightly around it, and he began to fuck my chest, his balls rubbing lightly against my skin, his cock pressing hard against my breastbone, the tip almost reaching the hollow in my neck every time he pushed northwards. I kept my breasts squeezed together, putting the pressure on his thick, long length.

His movements were languid . . . really making love to my breasts, his eyes transfixed on my swollen boobs, his sex mantra punctuated by thrusts. “These. Hot. Horny. Tits. Making. My. Cock. So. Fucking. Hard. My. Seed. Exploded. In. Your. Hot. Pearlette . . . Fucking. You. To. Pregnancy. So. Fucking. Sexy.” He groaned. Scorching, creamy cum spurted on my face, my tits, my neck, shooting out like a fountain. He cried out, “Pearl, baby, I love you.” His orgasm was super-intense, I could tell he was charged with passion; his face twisted as if in pain.

He stilled as his climax slowly faded, his cock flexing in spasms, and then laughed out loud and shook his dark head of hair, “Fuck, that was fast.”

I smiled. “For both of us.”