by Caro LaFever
“Ah,” she sighed. “We go backwards.”
There was a note of hurt encircling her words that made him ache. “I was teasing.”
“Really?” She perked up in her seat, her expression turning to amused. “That is not going backwards, then, saleau.”
“No nicknames.” Bending to his reluctant curiosity, he grabbed the present and slid the bow off.
Two gold balls were nestled into a puff of gray gauze. A black string entrapped them and a tiny golden bell hung at the end.
He frowned.
“It’s a Chinese charm,” she explained. “They’re gourds.”
“Gourds?”
“Well, they represent gourds, except they’re made of real gold.” Her voice rose, animated with excitement. “Gourds are a symbol that wards off evil spirits.”
He should push her away by asking her why it hadn’t warded her off, just as he’d done previously, but this time, he didn’t. And he didn’t know why he stopped himself, either. Confusion swirled inside him along with the warmth of her food. Trying to distract himself, he lifted the charm out of the box. The black silk shifted the gold gourds and the bell twinkled happily.
Jesucristo.
Now that it hung from his hands, he could only think of one thing. These damn things looked like his nuts hanging between his legs.
A burst of hilarity gurgled in his throat.
“You like?” She beamed. “I think it’ll look grand hanging from your truck’s rearview mirror.”
Oh, yeah. He could just picture it. Him driving around with his two gold balls swinging right in his sight. To remind him of the fact he hadn’t had sex in years, and his balls were often blue instead of gold.
Yeah, right.
He began a sneer but then he caught the hopeful look on her face. Like a young girl again, ready for her treat. The whole situation suddenly struck him directly in the funny bone. Right in the center of his gut where his laugh used to come from before it was destroyed.
“Mais?” She leaned closer, her gaze intent and childlike. “Can’t you see your balls swinging from the mirror?”
For the first time in five years, Luc Miró Porras laughed.
Chapter 16
Nina enjoyed making people laugh. As a child, she’d learned when a person laughed, they were generally ready to listen. When her father laughed, he tended not to judge as much. When her mother laughed, she finally looked happy. When her grandparents and sisters laughed, all was right with her world.
So Nina liked laughter.
But Luc Miró laughing brought a whole new dimension to the experience.
His expression turned from his usual scowl to joy. His mouth opened, revealing a set of white teeth that gleamed. His big body relaxed, every tense muscle easing into the laugh.
That unease, the trembling fear which kept whispering into her gut, went silent.
Overwhelmed and defeated by his laugh.
“What’s so funny about my gift?” Her question wasn’t one of offense, because even if he was laughing at what she’d offered, she didn’t mind. His laughter was its own reward.
He glanced her way before chuckling once more. His broad hand held the dangling gourds, the bell lying silent now on his palm. “Can’t you see?”
“Can’t I see what?” Focusing on the golden present, she tried to figure out what had set him off. “It’s a nice charm.”
“Balls. Hanging.”
His words were tinged with amusement. She eyed him and again, was stunned at what she saw. This time, the laugh had entered his eyes. Twinkling like warm firelight, they drew her in with a glowing pleasure.
“Focus.” He shook the charm in front of her. “You are a baby, but you must know what this resembles.”
Frowning at his continued insistence on underestimating her, she glanced at the gift once more.
And it hit her.
Two balls hanging in a sac.
He’d made a sexual joke. He’d gone there in her presence. And he was going to reap the benefits. Even if he thought of her as a baby.
“Oh, ho,” she cooed as she eased to the end of the couch. “What are you making me think of?”
Instant wariness suffused his face, and his body went taut. “Where are you going?”
“To you.”
Nina landed on his lap, her legs folding near his, her jean skirt ratcheting up her thighs. Before he could object or counter, her fingers slid into his messy curls to anchor him in her grasp. His brown eyes darkened in rejection. However, another of his body parts told her a different story. He’d been hard the moment she landed on him.
Had he been erect the entire time they ate and talked?
The delicious thought made her bold. Bolder than she usually was. Ducking close, she licked his bottom lip. The reaction to her move was exactly what she hoped for. A hiss of breath, tinted with her family’s spice.
“Nina.” His voice was hard, in contrast to his lips.
“Yes, Luc.” Nestling into him, she nudged his cock with her warmth and then, when he gasped, she took the opportunity he offered.
It took a mere second before her kiss became theirs. His mouth latched onto her lips and sucked, his tongue dancing with hers.
Fate wrapped itself around her heart, and squeezed. She’d had her share of men and liked sex. She’d had her way with men and loved being a woman. But she’d never felt this moment of intense connection, as if she’d found the one being in the world who she was meant to join with.
Meant to love.
Love.
The word had skittered into her conscience more than once this evening. She hadn’t paid enough attention to this subtle hint as her Paw-Paw had trained her to. When something, a word or a thought or a person, kept coming back into a woman’s awareness, she needed to become aware of what God and Fate and Life were trying to tell her.
Now, though, now she took it in.
Love.
Luc’s hands swept across her back, positioning her closer to his torso. Humid heat poured from his body, and she felt like a steam cloud of lust enveloped them, tying them together.
“Take this off.”’ He yanked on her shirt, and she gladly pulled it over her head and cast it to the floor.
He grunted his approval. “Bèl.”
His clean finger traced the edge of white lace on the top of her breast, sending tingles of pleasure into her heart. She wanted to give this man joy. Just as she had when she’d given him his laugh. The joy covering his face was something she wanted to see again. Except this time, she wanted him inside her, where she could feel his joy as well as see it.
His finger stilled, and a furrow appeared on his forehead. “I don’t—”
Nina would have none of this. None of these second thoughts or doubts. Leaning in, she took his mouth with hers and gave him something else to think about. With a swivel, her hips bumped his in a womanly move that drove him into a groan.
Before he stopped the sound, she’d tugged his T-shirt over his head and then, smoothed her hands across the crisp hair curling between his nipples. His breath hitched, his chest rising into her touch.
“You are beautiful,” she hummed. “So beautiful.”
“Not a saleau any longer, huh?”
A gurgle of laughter hit her.
His answering grin lit a light inside her: a big, bright, heated light of happiness.
“Maybe still a saleau,” she teased. “But now you are my saleau.”
A flash of shock rippled across his face, yet she didn’t let him go backwards. With a twist, she eased away, so she could slip her hand down to his erection. Every muscle in his body tensed. When she glanced at his face, his eyes were closed and his expression fierce with the pleasure she needed to give him.
“You are large,” she whispered with her own pleasure.
He croaked a short laugh. “Not like previous bibittes, huh?”
This man’s humor stunned her. Who would have thought Chef Grumpy had it in him? Her laughter
mixed with the growing need to see him naked and make him happy. “Not alike at all,” she said. “Let me see it.”
“Be my guest.” He lifted his hips, letting her tug his jeans and boxers down to mid-thigh.
It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was enough for now. His cock stood straight and tall, the head dark red, the length full and hard. She grasped it in a tight grip and he moaned, throwing his head back, his curls falling behind him.
Within seconds, the slickness of his need coated her hand and him, making it easier to fondle. She reveled in his string of groans, the way his body arched into her touch, and how his cock turned to steel.
“Stop, stop.” His hand jerked hers away from him in a sharp movement. “I’m about to come.”
“No coming until you’re in me.” Nina gazed at him, wondering if she could chance pulling him to her bed and taking a moment to find a condom. She wasn’t going to go through the disappointment of last night when he’d walked away.
He looked back at her, his brown eyes heated and hot. “There’s a thought.”
Good. It didn’t appear as if he were going to stop this until they both took what they wanted. “Come to my bed, Luc.”
Come to my bed, Luc.
He hadn’t heard those words in years, a plea from a woman that always brought a man to his knees. A shiver of warning, of conscience, hovered in the back of his head, but the desire for her, this woman who’d invaded his space and offered her gifts, overwhelmed him.
He hadn’t had sex in years.
She wanted him.
There wasn’t any doubt of that. Her hand brushed on his abdomen, a sorceress call. Smoky need filled her eyes. Her taut nipples pressed on the cloth of her lacy bra, telling him everything he wanted to know.
Infierno y condenación.
Yes, he’d be damned to hell for doing this, and he was going to regret it in the morning.
But tonight?
Tonight he was going to take.
“Come on.” He pushed her off his lap, grabbing her hand as he rose. His jeans and the useless shield of his boxers dropped to the floor. “Let’s go to bed.”
A sultry smile crossed her lips as she eyed his naked figure. “You are delicious. Like your food, hmm?”
“My food isn’t hard and demanding.” He smirked as a rush of mixed pleasures ran through him that he hadn’t experienced in so long.
The lusty gaze of a woman on him.
The knowing he was going to have her.
The exquisite feeling of being happy in the moment. Happy and excited and fearless.
“Are you warning me?” Her slow drawl was filled with a spicy tease. “Should I be afraid?”
In answer, he stepped out of the puddle of clothes and yanked her into his arms. It hit him again. How different she was from his wife. How much better she felt in his embrace.
She was a tad taller than Genia had been, and it seemed her body matched his in some indescribable way he’d never experienced. Her jeans-covered hips butted his naked cock. Her lace-covered breasts brushed along the curls on his chest. Her head, tucked close, would neatly fit into the notch of his collarbone and neck.
Unlike Genia.
The memories whispered around him, grasping at the lust and happiness in a clutch of remembered horror.
“Hey, you.” Her brows furrowed, as if she sensed the whispers surrounding him. “I’m not afraid of you. Not in the least.”
Genia hadn’t been, either. In fact, at the end, she’d been downright dismissive, even contemptuous. Those looks and words thrown at him had landed like punches causing long-lasting wounds.
Luc’s lust began to leech away.
“No, no, no.” Nina grabbed onto his long hair, tugging his lips to hers. She sipped on him slowly, like he was a fine wine she intended on savoring, before she husked, “we are going to do this together tonight. There is no going back.”
Her whispered claim of him swept against the lingering whispers threatening to overcome him. Just as they had for years.
You’re a horrible lover.
You’re not much of a man.
You’re more interested in food than sex.
“Look at me,” she commanded, her fingers tightening on his hair.
He looked. How could he not when she was so near and insistent? How could he not stare into the smoke of her eyes and latch his attention onto her wet lips?
“Luc?” Those lips rolled his name like a thunderstorm in the distance that a man couldn’t hope to run from. “I want you.”
And he wanted her. He just hoped he didn’t disappoint her as he had with his wife.
Before his brain could stop and hold on to that worry for long, Nina butted closer, her mouth taking his again, her arms wrapping around his waist. “Whatever it is that’s bothering you,” she slid the words onto his lips, “we’ll conquer it together.”
Conquering his memories would never happen, but right at this moment, perhaps this girl-woman could help him subdue them.
His cock howled in anticipation, and his last brain cell died in the face of his desire. Tugging her behind him, he lurched toward the hallway and stairs. A low, charming chuckle came from her, a sure encouragement. His self-confidence took a leap into the stratosphere, when her palm slid along the curve of his bare buttock as he climbed the stairs in front of her.
“My, my,” she murmured. “So many delicious things about you.”
A shiver of basic, primal lust ran through him, making the hairs on his arms and legs rise.
He paced toward the goal.
The bedroom was a black pit of cool air, though as soon as they entered his private space, the steam of their connection seemed to fill the atmosphere with electric heat.
“I need to see.” Her hand dropped from his butt and she whisked past him toward the windows.
Luc stood at the side of his bed and wondered if he wanted to see her. The last few times he’d had sex with Genia, she’d stared at him with boredom, as if she could barely stay awake.
He didn’t want to see Nina’s face, if she felt the same.
Yet, before he could make a decision, his floor-length black curtains were swept back, letting the moonlight dapple into the room, a string of silver pearls. The light encircled her like enchanted stardust, making her glow. She turned and gave him a smile he’d never seen. On her face or any other’s. A gentle, teasing, genuine smile that wrapped around his heart and squeezed. “How beautiful you are, Luc. The moonlight makes you look like a god.”
He was no god. But he was a man, and somehow, he was going to make this good for her.
“Come here and take off your clothes,” he said, a gruff plea.
“Which one first?” Her brows arched in another tease. “Come or clothes?”
“First your clothes.” His resurrected humor rushed back with a counteroffer. “Then you’re coming.”
Her mouth dropped open in clear surprise, before a throaty laugh rippled from her, across the old pine floor. “Promises, promises.”
There was that damn word again. A word he didn’t want to think about in this context with this woman. All he wanted was her warm body next to his and her mouth on him. All he wanted was release and relief inside her welcoming body. All he wanted was to banish this numb feeling that had laid in the center of his soul for five years.
“No promises.” He threw the words out because he didn’t want her to think this was something that could continue. “Just sex tonight.”
Her eyes widened, and for a moment, he thought he’d stupidly lost his chance. But then, she laughed again, a sultry sound that always got his blood rushing. “If that’s what you want to think, cher.”
Before he could press the point, she whipped her bra off with an indolent, womanly flip, and pushed her skirt down her legs, leaving her naked except for a dark, lacy thong.
All words clogged in his throat.
Her pearly skin shone, so youthful, like a new blossom. She had those legs, this girl. Those long, f
irm legs that somehow, in some way, had turned him into a leg man. Moving toward him, she smiled, her bare breasts swinging. Both the smile and the breasts drew his gaze up. What the hell had he been thinking, dismissing her breasts as unimpressive? They were exactly right for her. The bounce, the perk of her nipples, the buoyant freshness of her flesh called to his hands.
He cupped her, causing her to stop. He plumped her warmth in his palms, loving the feeling of a woman, remembering how much he’d missed this.
“You like?” she quipped, her gaze knowing.
“You know I do.” Leaning in, he sipped her, bringing her nipples to attention, taking in the sweetness of her skin and the smoldering scent of her arousal.
She was aroused. Being with him.
A glorious sense of rightness went through him—a lightning storm zipping through his body and into his brain. Before he lost his nerve, he swung her into his arms and headed for the bed.
“Mais,” she breathed into his ear. “You are strong. I like that.”
With one hand, he swept the bedspread and sheet away, laying her down in the middle of the mattress. Her gaze never left his, even when he let himself take her whole body in. The soft slack of her lips, the elegance of her neck, the firmness of her shoulders. The breasts, the slim waist, those long, long legs.
His. For tonight.
“Come here,” she beckoned him with a languid wave. “I want you.”
I want you.
Such a precious gift she gave him. Because he knew she wasn’t lying. Her direct gaze told him. The way her want wafted to his sensitive nose. The way her body twisted toward him.
She wanted him.
The bliss of the realization settled in him like a balm to a deep wound he’d carried for far too long.
“I want you too,” he groaned as he slid onto her. “So much.”
“Then.” Her fingers threaded through his hair and her smile was only for him again. “We are in agreement.”
For now. For once.
Until morning.
He reminded himself of that reality before sliding into the pure pleasure she promised him with her smoky eyes.