Page 14 of The Marriage Auction 2: Part 2

“Smart,” she breathed, blotting off the bulk of color.

“Okay, let me see you in all your glory,” I prompted.

Emily fluffed her gorgeous golden hair, spun in a circle, and cocked a hip. “How do I look daaaaah-ling?” she dragged out the word.

“Absolute perfection!” I blew her a kiss.

She copied me exactly, returning the kiss, then bounced on her toes. “I cannot wait to go to France. How long is the plane ride anyway?”

“Approximately nine to ten hours, my lovely.”

She made a sour expression.

“A lady does not snarl and pinch her face upon hearing unfortunate news that cannot be changed. It’s unbecoming.”

Emily dropped the nasty look and replaced it with a small smile. The girl was so eager to please.

“Better. Come, let’s get your uncle. He’s probably pacing a hole in the floor waiting for us to be ready.”

“Do you always make him wait?”

“Oui. I like to show the man I adore that I make an effort to put my best self forward, as I am an extension of our family and his good name.”

She nodded but didn’t seem to truly grasp what I was saying.

I nudged her shoulder and dipped down to her ear so that I could whisper. “I also like to see the way his eyes light every time I enter a room. Watch him closely when he sees us.”

Emily giggled and strutted down the hallway, positively feeling herself. As she should. The girl was beautiful with a delightful personality when she let the real Emily Davenport show instead of the defiant, obstinate one she presented to her father. The latter was something I planned to work on during our time together. Emily needed to understand that her father was on her side in all things. It was my hope that after our two weeks together, she will have matured enough to see this on her own.

We entered the living room where my husband was rocking back and forth on heels and toes, hands in his pockets, staring out at the Las Vegas landscape. He looked dapper in a sleek, tailored khaki suit with a white collared shirt underneath. No tie today, leaving the first couple of buttons undone. His greying hair had been swept off his freshly shaven face. My husband was a looker to be certain. Always has been.

“We are ready,mon coeur,”I announced.

Christo spun around, and his gaze landed on me. He took in my body from my head, hair parted in the middle and drawnback into sleek ponytail, his gaze moving over the cream silk sleeveless blouse, down the pale lavender pencil skirt to the nude Jimmy Choos I wore on my feet. He cocked an eyebrow, lifted his hand and ran his thumb along his bottom lip, his gaze heating with lascivious interest.

“Cheri, you are a walking dream,” he breathed, awe filling his tone.

“Merci beaucoup,” I preened, feeling my cheeks heat as they always did when I was under my husband’s lustful scrutiny. “And your niece,” I reminded him she was there. I felt a great deal of feminine pride that my husband of thirty years still only had eyes for me.

His gaze darted to Emily. “Goodness me, am I in the presence of two models fresh off the runway in Milan?”

Emily practically vibrated with glee. “Thanks, Uncle C. Are we ready to go? I’m dying to get to France!”

“Good things come to those who wait,” he responded. “Alas, we are ready. Let us go.” He held out his arm gesturing for the two of us to precede him.

Emily bolted to the door, likely headed to the elevator.

Christophe immediately looped an arm around my waist from behind, tugging me until my back rested against his chest, my rear to his groin.

“I would very much like to hike that pretty skirt up to your waist, rip off the sexy lace panties I know you’re wearing, bend you over that couch, and fuck you until you beg me to come.” He growled and pressed his hardening length against my behind.

I gasped as he ran a trail of kisses down my neck, teasing and setting a fire that neither of us could afford to succumb to with our teenaged charge present.

“I would like that very much,mon cher,” I cooed. “Hold on to that thought until we make it home.”

“Home,” he huffed. “I’m going to wait until Emily falls asleep on the plane in the lounge, and then I’m going to take you to the bedroom and do exactly as I have described, only it will be your hands planted on the bed.” His fingers gripped my hip and then slid over the rounded curve of my bum where he squeezed.

A mewl slipped from my lips as I rolled my hips, adding pressure to his hardening erection.

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