Read The Good Sister: Part One Online
Authors: London Saint James
“Good,” Jacqueline said.
“Then Alec came in and settled Gavin down.”
Alec gave an evil grin. “Yes, it is amazing what a sharp blade to the throat can do to settle a beast.”
Jacqueline asked, “Where is Gavin?”
“Lord Archer had the authorities place him into his usual holding cell last night. This morning Lord Archer is on his way to collect his brother and escort him back to England,” Alec replied.
“He will come back, he always comes back,” Amelia interjected with a sense of foreboding.
Alec said, “Lord Archer is going to have him committed again.”
Jacqueline touched my cheek. “You will be safe. Even if Gavin comes back, he would never dare set foot upon my property.”
“Why? What would stop him?” I asked.
“He has a fear of death,” said Alec in a cold voice, “and he knows his death will come swiftly if he enters this home.”
“Come,” Amelia said, “we have a party tonight. We must prepare.”
“I’m not sure I am ready for another party,” I replied.
“No? John Paul is coming. So your Reid will come too,” Jacqueline said.
Reid
. I hadn’t thought of him much while I was with Lord Archer. This was strange, because Reid was never far from my every thought. He was all I thought about for the last two years of my life, but I had other thoughts upon my mind, which included my dear Lord Archer.
“Why so quiet, my petit? Do you not wish to see Reid?”
“Jacqueline, I don’t think I’m ready yet.”
“What if I told you I have an idea how you can see Reid, and he can see you without really seeing you? I assure you, Reid will burn to touch you before the night is over.”
“How?”
“Go with Amelia. I will come up in just a moment, my petit,” Jacqueline said. “Everything will be just as you wish.” Jacqueline looked at Amelia. “Put our beauty into the golden dress I bought for her.”
Amelia nodded.
Once again I was being pampered and fussed over by my sisters, preparing for another party. When I stepped in front of the mirror I was slathered in gold. My hair held golden jewels; my body glittered in golden flecks, and my eyes were highlighted in gold with glittering body jewelry upon my face as a mask. My lips were golden, my neck lined with gold jewels, and upon my body I wore a long translucent golden dress, which in the right light showed every curve of my bare body beneath.
“Perfect!” Jacqueline trilled as she approached. “Now come with me, my petit.” I followed Jacqueline. We came to a stop at a door on the third floor. “Do not worry.” She opened the door.
This room was completely empty with only a long settee in the color of gold that sat in front of a raging fire. The mantel upon the fireplace was gilded in gold. On the floor, sitting by the settee, was a gold chalice.
I stared at Jacqueline, confused.
“I am commissioning a special painting from John Paul. He shall paint you. Reid will become curious as to where John Paul is, and he will find him with you. You shall not speak. You will lie upon the settee as a vision, allowing John Paul to paint you, and allowing Reid to see you.”
Jacqueline had me take a seat upon the golden settee, positioning me so the firelight would glimmer off my body. I lay back, wrists crossed over my head, breasts pushed up and out, back arched, hip cocked, legs spread only a little. Jacqueline positioned the golden dress into tempting, revealing, eye catching folds. I glanced down, and noticed the tips of my nipples as they poked through the material in an arousing form. Around my neck a long golden necklace dangled between my breasts, tickling my flesh.
Jacqueline stood back for a moment, admiring her work before she stepped forward and placed my arm to dangle off the settee, fingers curling around the stem of the golden cup.
“Perfect,” Jacqueline said. “You are beautiful. A true goddess, my petit.”
“How long do you want me to stay this way?”
“Here.” Jacqueline put some pillows under my shoulder blade for support. “Better?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I will be back with John Paul. Remember, do not speak.”
“Okay.”
I glanced up. The ceiling was a mirror. I saw myself, and studied the lines of my body, seeing what John Paul and Reid would see. Reid would like this position. It was close to the position he placed me in that night beneath the moon. I closed my eyes, remembering that night.
I heard Jacqueline. “John Paul,” she said, opening the door to the room, “here is my surprise.”
John Paul was speaking rapidly in French.
Jacqueline laughed. “No, my dearest. I am not giving her to you in that way. I wish for you to paint her for me.”
“But I did not bring my brushes,” John Paul said in his thick French accent.
“Do not worry. You will sketch. You will remember. And you will paint her when you have your supplies,” Jacqueline said. “I will be back with what you need to sketch my petit, and you will restrain yourself. Do we understand each other?”
“Of course, my lovely Jacqueline.”
I opened my eyes when the door to the room shut. John Paul was making appreciative sounds as he approached me. He stopped at the front of the settee. He stood, looking down at me, not quite lasciviously.
“Oui,” he said, “oui, oui, oui … you are truly a vision in gold. I shall be honored to paint you for Jacqueline.”
I smiled.
“You have nothing to say?”
I shook my head.
“Pity, but I will drink in your beauty with my eyes, and spill the words of it from my lips and from my hands as I sketch you.”
“John Paul, where the hell are you?”
Reid.
“I am in here!” John Paul called out.
The door opened.
“Fuck,” Reid muttered, “what the hell is going on, John Paul?”
“Jacqueline wishes me to paint her.” John Paul smiled a crooked smile. “She is a feast for the eyes.”
Reid circled the settee, gazing down. I watched the tilt of his head then his expression changed to one of hunger, deep hunger. His eyes blazed in the firelight.
“Holy hell,” he said, “you are gorgeous.”
“She is the vision in white, only tonight she has transformed into a golden goddess,” John Paul said.
Reid reached out as if he were going to touch my face when Jacqueline came in. “Ah … no Reid. This vision is to only be admired by your eyes. There is no touching.” Jacqueline handed over the sketchpad, a satchel of sketching pencils, and a smile to John Paul. “I will be back with some wine, some snacks, some music, and a couple of chairs.” She looked at Reid. “I am assuming you wish to stay and watch your friend work?”
“Hell yes,” Reid said, mincing no words.
“Reid,” Jacqueline called. Reid turned his head toward her, hesitantly. “I am expecting restraint and respect. My petit is to be undisturbed from her pose, and undefiled.”
“Sure, Jacqueline,” Reid replied.
“Then we all understand each other, oui?”
“Yes,” Reid said.
John Paul followed not quite in unison, “Oui.”
When Jacqueline left, Reid turned back to gaze at me.
“Reid. Move from my light, I need to see,” John Paul instructed.
I had two men circling me like predatory birds. They circled and circled, gazing at me from every direction. Reid stopped at my feet.
Jacqueline arrived with Lilli Anna. They placed two chairs into the space, some wine, crackers, fruit, and cheese. Music wafted through the room.
“I will be back,” Jacqueline assured.
“Sure,” Reid said.
John Paul began to sketch. He tore off the paper, threw it to the floor, and began to sketch again. He sketched then moved to a different angle, continuing to draw before the ripping sound of paper filled in the echo of the room. This became like a melody, mixing into the lulling beat of the music. The sound of his breathing. The shuffle of his feet upon the hardwood floor. The low growling murmur of his voice in evident appreciation. The scratching of the lead against paper. The split of the paper from the pad. The drifting of the newly formed sketch through the air. The shudder of parchment sliding across the floor as it landed.
John Paul did this over and over, frantically sketching, tearing off the paper and letting it float to the floor. I caught the reflection of the papers on the floor. He was sketching a piece of my body at a time. Each sketch held something different, my hip, my calf, my foot, my hand, my fingers, the ring, an arm…
Reid moved to the head of the settee. He lingered there.
“Will you speak to me?” Reid said, moving back around to my side.
I shook my head.
“She will not speak,” John Paul said.
Reid knelt down upon his knees. He placed his nose to the exposed skin of my neck.
John Paul spat, “We are not to touch her, Reid.”
“I am not going to touch her,” Reid assured then moved his lips within a scant breath of my flesh.
I held my pose and my expression still. Reid breathed me in, smelling my skin from the hollow of my ear to my exposed throat. He moved back in slow motion. Goose bumps shimmied across my flesh.
Cheese and crackers,
my body was going to give me away.
“Trinity?” he asked.
I did not move. I did not blink. I held my pose as though he had never spoken. He looked into my eyes.
“Reid, move out of my light!” John Paul snapped.
Reid shook his head then stood. “I need to get out of here,” he announced, bounding past John Paul, finally finding his escape out the door.
John Paul continued to sketch, murmuring words in French that I did not understand, and then he was done. He threw down the sketchpad in a flourish, and walked over to the table where he guzzled a glass of wine. He looked spent. He hammered down the glass upon the table, wiped his wine stained mouth upon the sleeve of his shirt, ran his fingers through his hair, and scrubbed. As if Jacqueline knew he was done, she glided into the room, her long red frock fanning out behind her.
“Do you have everything you need to complete the painting?” she asked.
“I believe so,” John Paul replied.
“My petit, you may leave,” she said.
I sat up, feeling the blood rush back through my body. When I tried to move, I realized how long I’d actually been in that awkward pose. My muscles wanted to protest, but I stood to my feet, nodded my head to John Paul then to Jacqueline before taking my leave from the room.
Once the door closed, I inhaled a large cleansing breath. I rolled my neck across the span of my shoulders, trying to work out a kink that had formed.
I walked to the staircase, rubbing at the back of my neck. I made my way down to the second floor. I stopped for a moment to stretch before reaching out to the door of my room. Strong hands wrapped around the tops of my arms, pulling my body back into a muscular chest.
“Why do you haunt me?” he whispered against my ear.
Goose bumps traversed my skin. My body, my reactions would give me away. I must find a way not to react to Reid.
“Please, speak to me,” Reid urged, “I need to hear your voice for my own sanity.”
I turned the doorknob, took Reid by the hand, and led him into my room. I turned off the lights, leaving us in dimness. The fire was low, no longer raging, but I would need to be careful. If I moved him to the settee by the dressing area there would be very little light, and he would not be able to fully see me. With his hand in mine, I took Reid to the settee. I pressed upon his chest, urging him to sit. I placed my fingertip to his lips, indicating not to speak. Reid sat. I unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time.
“There is something about you which haunts me, calls to me, makes me think—” I stopped him with my lips.
I felt his fingers on the back of my neck, urging me to stay. I pulled back, took his hand, turned it palm up, and with my index finger I wrote: NO.
“Please, tell me who you are?”
I closed my small hand over his, giving him my final answer.
Ashton
bulldozed through my thoughts. Something about this made me feel guilty, but I need not be guilty. I’d come here for Reid.
All of this was for Reid
.
Reid shrugged out of his shirt. I skimmed my hands over his chest then over his rippled stomach without reservation or hesitation. He was my goal, my focus, what I wanted, what I had always wanted. My hands moved to the buttons on his jeans. I popped the first button and ran my fingertips over the strength of his stomach once more, circling his navel. His stomach muscles responded with a flexing jerk.
Reid placed his nose to my hair and sniffed. I made it through the button fly of his jeans, and slipped my hand inside the denim to feel Reid iron hard beneath my hand. I stroked him, squeezed him, took in every inch of him. Reid groaned. I gripped at his pants, pulling.
Reid stood up, and removed his pants. Once they were gone he sat back down. I fell to my knees, at his feet, slid up between his legs, grasped his hard cock in my hand, and placed a kiss to the tip of him.