Page 43 of Belle Amour

“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 hishand 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.

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