by Maya Banks
“Serena,” he whispered as he buried his face in her hair.
Her breath stuttered across her lips like a hiccup. She flew higher on the swing until the sun bathed her face and she closed her eyes to its brightness. Warmth, sweet, honeyed warmth flooded her soul. Joy flickered across her heart as her orgasm swelled and then burst around her like flowers opening to the sun’s rays.
“Damon,” she whispered back, her voice choked.
They held each other tightly as their bodies quivered and shook in the aftermath of their lovemaking. He lay, warm and limp over her body, covering her like a blanket. She rubbed her palm absently over his back as he softened inside her.
Finally, he moved away, pulling her with him so that she was cradled in his embrace.
Neither spoke, and maybe they didn’t want to ruin the moment with something as harsh and unwieldy as mere words. Serena contented herself with lying in his arms, listening to the soft pounding of his heartbeat so close to her ear.
CHAPTER 24
“ W ake up, sleepyhead.”
Damon’s voice rumbled in her ear, and she moved her head in protest and snuggled deeper into the covers. He chuckled and smacked her affectionately on the ass. She winced as a tingle of discomfort hummed over her sore flesh. Almost as quickly a curl of pleasure simmered deep and she was taken back to the previous evening.
“Come on, Serena. Get up and get dressed. We’re taking a trip.”
She opened one eye to glance warily at him. “Are you always this obnoxiously cheerful in the morning?
He smiled. “It’s no longer morning. You slept until noon. And good morning sex will do that to a guy.”
“Good any sex will do that to a guy,” she corrected.
“True, but then guys aren’t known for their depth,” he said with a sexy wink. “Now get up and get dressed. I’ve already packed a bag for you.”
She sat up and wiped the sleep from her eyes as she blearily tried to focus on him. “Where are we going?”
“I thought we’d go see my mom,” he said lightly. “It’s been . . . a long time since I’ve seen her and it’s time to go back home.”
She scrambled from the covers and hooked her legs over the side. “Your mom? Where does she live? And, um, am I going as your slave or as a friend or what?”
He put his hands on her arms and squeezed gently as he hauled her to stand in front of him. He kissed her lingeringly then brushed a finger over her nose. “What do you want to go as, Serena mine?”
The question confused her, not for its lack of clarity. It was certainly direct and uncomplicated enough. But it was one of those questions that asked her to state intentions she wasn’t sure of yet, and worse, asked her to declare them before she knew of his feelings.
Feelings?
She stepped away abruptly, desperate to put distance between them. Did she want him to have feelings for her? When the fuck had this gone beyond a simple fantasy to grandiose thoughts of a relationship?
It was hard to think of a relationship when the extent of their “courting” had consisted of bondage, spankings and ass fucking.
She nearly groaned aloud. So it wasn’t quite that crude, and it reduced what had been an extremely satisfying sexual experience to something cheap and smutty.
“Serena?”
She glanced back up at Damon who looked at her with confused eyes.
“Is something wrong? If you’d prefer we not go, I can go another time.”
She shook her head. “I’d love to,” she said huskily. “Let me get a shower. I can be dressed in half an hour.”
He leaned in to kiss her again. “Take your time. I’ll pack the car.”
They zipped down Interstate 10 in Damon’s BMW. He drove with the practiced ease of someone well acquainted with the horrors of Houston traffic.
For the first couple of hours they rode in silence, Damon’s gaze fixed on the road ahead. Occasionally she glanced at his profile, studying his tense expression. He’d seemed eager to visit his mother earlier, but now, as they crossed over the Louisiana state line, his jaw was firmly set.
Wanting to ease some of the strain, she tentatively reached across the seat for his hand. He glanced over and smiled, easing some of the lines at his brow.
Not wanting to pry too deeply into what may or may not be bothering him, she opted for general and light. She cocked her head to the side and smiled at him.
“Tell me something about yourself.”
Amusement twinkled in his eyes and he seemed to relax.
“Like what?”
“Oh, anything. I’m all ears.”
He rubbed his thumb over her palm while he gripped the steering wheel with his other hand.
“Okay. I like good wine, good food and beautiful women.”
Serena snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know. You’re horribly spoiled. Tell me about your past lovers.”
He coughed. “I’m not crazy. A guy should never talk about other women when he’s in the presence of another one, particularly one he’s currently having sex with.”
“Come on, it’s not like I’m your girlfriend,” she said lightly. “How come you don’t have a permanent slave to do your evil bidding?”
His expression sobered. “It’s not that easy.”
“No?”
He shook his head. “There are plenty of women who are into the fantasy. Not so much the reality.”
“You mean like me,” she said softly.
He stared over at her but didn’t agree. He didn’t have to. It was the simple truth.
“No one ever wanted to do it . . . permanently?” she asked. “Did you ask them to?”
“I only asked one,” he said as he looked away. “The others . . . it was obvious it was a fling, and I was okay with it. I never wanted something permanent or I just didn’t think it would work long-term.”
“Except with one,” she said.
He nodded.
“Did you love her?”
The corner of his mouth crooked up. “Maybe? She was the only woman I thought might be the one. You know the whole clichéd one in a million, the one meant for me. All that sappy bullshit you women read about in romance novels.”
“Bitter much?” she asked with a raised brow.
He laughed, and his shoulders sank again as he relaxed. “You’re fun, Serena. You don’t let me take myself too seriously.”
“Well, someone’s got to keep you in line,” she teased. “You could easily become too spoiled if left unchecked.”
He grinned and squeezed her hand.
“So what happened with this woman? Did she just decide that the slave thing didn’t work for her or what?”
He blew out his breath. “We enjoyed a very exciting sex life. She was into every imaginable kink. I couldn’t believe my good fortune. She was into me, didn’t seem too impressed with my money and wanted to please me. In turn, I wanted very much to please her. We talked about the kind of lifestyle I led and that it wasn’t a game. It wasn’t something I did randomly. She was on board with that. I wanted to marry her. I wanted to own her. I wanted her to own my heart.”
“Oh boy,” Serena murmured. It was on the tip of her tongue to say what a dumbass the woman had been for running from Damon, but then how big of a hypocrite would that make her?
“Yeah, you can guess the rest. One day she decided that belonging to me wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted freedom, though I never tried to restrain her. Her time with me was mine, but I never tried to interfere in her outside interests. I knew that to make it work, we both needed time and space outside of an exhausting sexual odyssey.”
Serena slowly nodded. “So she left.”
Damon nodded. “And I let her go. She was my slave, the woman I loved, but she wanted freedom, and I couldn’t do anything other than grant it to her.”
It was her turn to squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry.”
He smiled. “If I was still with her, you and I would have never embarked on our own odyss
ey.”
“True. I guess I’m not so sorry after all. I do regret that you were hurt.”
He reached over and touched her cheek. “Thank you for that, Serena mine.”
“Did you call her that too?” she asked in a sudden flash of irritation.
Damon gave her a puzzled look. “Call her what?”
“Mine.”
He slowly shook his head. “No. I’ve never used that particular endearment with anyone before. Does it bother you?”
“Only if you used it for all your women,” she said honestly.
“No, just with you.”
It was ridiculous that it gratified her to hear it, but she wouldn’t lie outright and say it wouldn’t have annoyed her if it was used so casually. She loved the endearment. Loved the way it made her feel. Special. Like she truly belonged to him.
“What about you, Serena? Why did you seek me out? Did your previous lovers not satisfy your hunger?”
She leaned back against the head rest and sighed. “It’s hard to explain, really. I won’t say my lovers were bad. They were all different. Some better than others, but they all satisfied my needs at the time. It was only later that I felt like something was missing, that I wanted something more but couldn’t articulate what it was exactly.
“My lovers were everything I could ask for. Kind, generous. Willing to please. I guess we just didn’t click long-term. One of them proposed, but the idea of spending the rest of my life with him turned me cold.”
“I know how the poor bastard feels,” Damon said ruefully.
Serena winced. “That probably sounded pretty close to home and not very tactful of me.”
“No, at least you were honest, just like Tonya was honest with me. I can’t fault either of you for that. It would have been worse if you had lied. In the long run, it would have been harder for everyone.”
“I know,” she said softly. “But part of me also wonders what might have been. If I made a mistake. If right now I wouldn’t be happy in a marriage with children and someone I could grow old with.”
“It’s easy to play the what-if game, but if you had enough reservations to end the relationship early on, you were probably right. Settling is something I swore never to do. It’s not fair to me or to the woman I’m involved with.”
“I think you have some pretty solid views on relationships,” she complimented.
He winced. “If that was so, I’d have a committed relationship of my own with maybe one or two rug rats underfoot. Although, I’m not in a hurry for children. I want time with my wife. I want her to myself, as selfish as that may sound.”
“If you’re selfish, then so am I. I’ll make a confession, one I’ve never given anyone else.”
“Oh, now I’m intrigued.”
She laughed softly. “A bit ago, when I said that part about maybe now I’d have a husband and children. Well, the truth is, I’ve never been in a hurry for kids either. It’s easy to say what I might have when there’s no possibility of it, you know?”
“Yeah, I do know. So you’re saying you don’t want children?”
“Maybe? I don’t really know. I guess I haven’t met a man who made me think seriously about settling down and bearing offspring. I’m not convinced I’ll be terribly good at it. And like you, I’d like some time with my lover. Just the two of us. I have such dreams about going places together. Seeing new and exciting things . . .”
She trailed off and looked self-consciously over at Damon. He smiled warmly at her.
“I think we have a lot in common, Serena mine.”
Her body hummed with pleasure, and she squeezed his fingers. They did have a lot in common except the one looming obstacle. And it was a biggie.
She wanted a fantasy. He wanted the real thing.
With a resigned sigh, she turned to look out her window at the passing cypress swamp. It wouldn’t do any good to allow herself to become too emotionally invested in Damon. They wanted different things. And she could never give herself so unreservedly to a man on a permanent basis.
CHAPTER 25
D amon’s mother was sitting in a porch swing waiting for them when they drove up in the late afternoon. Serena wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, maybe a sweet, silver-haired lady with an apron. Now she felt pretty silly when confronted with the gorgeous, young-looking woman who stood and beamed as Damon got out of the car.
She was wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt, and her hair hung to her shoulders. Not a single silver hair marred the deep chestnut color, so close to Damon’s own. Where his eyes were a chocolate brown, his mother’s were a sparkling green.
Damon walked around and helped Serena from the car then slipped his hand in hers as they walked toward his mother. She greeted them at the steps, opening her arms to Damon.
Her eyes glittered with tears as she hugged her son, and Serena felt her own throat tighten at the emotional reunion.
“It’s so good to have you home, son,” she said as she pulled away. Then she turned her gaze to Serena and smiled warmly. “I’m Josephine Roche, Damon’s mother.”
Serena smiled in return but before she could open her mouth, Damon put an arm around her shoulders and drew her close.
“Mom, this is Serena James.”
“I’m so glad to meet you, Serena.”
“I’m very glad to meet you as well, Mrs. Roche.”
“Please call me Jo. It’s what I’m used to.”
“Mom, if you’ll take Serena inside, I’ll get our bags.”
“I’d be glad to. Serena? If you’ll come with me. I have tea made, and supper will be ready in half an hour. I made Damon’s favorite. Sausage gumbo.”
“So what will you and Serena eat?” Damon asked innocently.
Jo laughed then planted both her hands on Damon’s cheeks and kissed him soundly. “I’m so glad you’re here. You’ve been away too long.”
“I know, Mom. I’m sorry,” he said softly.
She smiled a little sadly and patted him on the cheek. “I know how hard it is for you.”
He kissed her palm then pulled her hand away and squeezed before letting it go. “You two go on in. I’ll be right behind you.”
Serena followed Jo inside the sprawling southern home. The porch completely wrapped around and butted into a wooden deck in the back of the house. Serena stood at the window looking out over the bayou that snaked its way through the Roches’ property.
“Great view, isn’t it?” Jo asked beside her.
Serena turned to take the glass of tea that Jo offered and nodded. “Do you have alligators?”
Jo grinned. “A few. Damon used to go hunting them when he was a teenager. Always swore he’d get one. He and his father spent many hours up and down these swamps. They caught plenty of catfish, but never any gators.”
“You’re not telling all my secrets are you, Mom?” Damon asked as he came to stand behind Serena.
He put his arm around her waist and dropped a kiss on top of her head. Serena tensed, not entirely comfortable with the display of affection in front of a woman she’d just met, but Jo smiled openly in delight.
“I thought we could eat out on the deck this evening. We can watch the sun go down and look for fireflies over the bayou,” Jo said.
Damon stilled against her and she turned around to see a sad smile crossing his face. “Just like old times.”
Serena glanced back at Jo, whose face reflected a sad poignancy even though she too smiled. She reached out and squeezed Damon’s hand. “Yes, just like old times.”
Then she turned and reached to squeeze Serena’s hand. “Why don’t you let Damon show you around while I set the gumbo back on to warm. I’ll call you two when it’s time to set the table.”
“Still a slave driver, I see,” Damon said.
“Damn right. I cook it. You can at least set the table and clear up afterward.”
He leaned over and brushed a kiss across his mother’s forehead. “With the way you cook, I’m getting the best end of
the bargain.”
“You always were a charmer. Just like your father.”
The two exchanged sorrowful glances before Damon took Serena’s elbow and urged her toward the triple-glass French doors that overlooked the deck.
“I’ll take you to see my favorite fishing holes,” he said as he opened the door.
Warm, muggy air stifled Serena’s breathing as she followed Damon outside. It was a good hour before sunset, and the temperature was near its highest point of the day.
“My father built this,” Damon said as he ran his hand along the cedar railing of the porch.
“It’s beautiful.” She observed him for a long moment before biting the bullet and taking the plunge. “I take it your father passed away?”
Damon slowly nodded. “Two years ago. He was fishing.” He turned and pointed to a bend in the bayou. “Right over there. My mother found him slumped over. He had a massive heart attack and died on the spot. He never had a chance.”
She touched his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“He was the best,” Damon said quietly. Though he didn’t overtly acknowledge her gesture, he put his hand over hers and left it there.
“You haven’t been home since?” she asked. He appeared to be so close to his mother. It seemed odd that he’d stay away so long.
A sad, weary look entered his eyes, dulling them to a drab brown. “No. I tried. But it was too painful. I got all the way to the driveway, and I turned around and drove back to Houston. Pretty cowardly.”
He moved to the railing and rested both hands on the wood, leaning out over it as he stared over the cypress clogged bayou. “It hurt my mom. I knew it, but still, I couldn’t make myself come back. I couldn’t face being here without him.”
“Why now?” she asked softly. Why with her?
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve missed my mom. I’ve needed to face her, this house. Needed to realize that my staying away doesn’t alter the fact that he’s gone. And maybe it seemed easier with you.”
She inhaled sharply, unable to control her surprise at his statement.
He touched her cheekbone then slid his hand behind her head and pulled her toward him. She rocked against him as he tilted her upward to meet his kiss.