by Maya Banks
It was gentle, it was soft. In a word, it was exquisite. It shook her to her core.
“Thank you for coming with me,” he whispered against her lips. “It means a lot.”
She smiled as she drew away. “I’m glad you wanted me with you.”
He took her to the banks of the bayou and they watched the catfish surface as if expecting to be fed.
“My mom feeds them every evening,” he explained. “They’re spoiled rotten.”
They continued along the edge as it wound through the rolling terrain of his mother’s property. A rickety dock was situated in the crook of one of the bends, and an old johnboat was tied up. It rocked gently with the ripples of the water. The green paint was faded and peeling. Stenciled with black paint on the side was Roche.
“My father’s boat,” Damon said. “It belonged to his grand-father. Old as Methuselah but it still runs. Mom takes it out every now and again just to keep it going.”
“She misses him too,” Serena said, remembering the sadness in her eyes.
Damon sighed. He turned to face the water and shoved his hands into his pockets. For a long moment he was silent. His lips moved as though he had difficulty forming the words.
“It was hard on her and even harder when I stayed away even though she understood.”
He glanced down at his feet, and his shoulders sagged.
“It was selfish of me and it’s something I regret. They were . . . they were so in love. They were high school sweethearts, and she married him when she was sixteen. Folks around here didn’t give them a chance of lasting or ever amounting to anything, but they proved them wrong. He built this house for mom when she was pregnant with me. I grew up here. It’s the only home I ever knew.”
He smiled and glanced sideways at Serena. “My father made his fortune and retired early. He and mom were supposed to travel. Have fun. Live and love and enjoy life. He died just a week after they returned from a trip to Paris. It was where my mother had dreamed of traveling since she was a girl.”
Serena blinked away the tears that stung her eyelids. “At least they got one last trip together before he passed,” she said.
Damon nodded. “We all had some good times together. For so long it hurt to think about them, to remember life with Dad knowing he wasn’t here anymore. But now . . . now it just feels good to remember.”
She reached out, caught his wrist and pulled his hand from his pocket. She laced her fingers through his and tugged his hand to her side.
They both turned when they heard Jo calling to them. She was standing on the deck waving and motioning them to supper.
“Come on. The gumbo’s not as good when it’s cold,” he said.
“Race you,” Serena challenged even as she took off.
“Cheater!” Damon yelled as he pounded after her.
She would have beaten him to the steps, but just as she made the leap, he plucked her from the air and spun her around in his arms. She shrieked in outrage and he responded by dumping her on the ground and following her down to tickle her unmercifully.
When she was wheezing for breath between peals of laughter, he finally stopped and hauled her up.
“Declare me the victor,” he demanded.
“Never!”
She launched herself up the steps then turned around and did an imitation of Rocky, hands in the air as she danced back and forth.
“Little cheat,” he grumbled as he walked past her to the table where his mom waited.
“Damon always was a poor loser,” Jo said as she grinned at Serena. “He was always the most competitive child. Best at everything.”
“And who did I get that from, pray tell?” Damon said dryly.
“Your father, of course.”
Damon snorted and headed toward the door. “You ladies stay here. I’ll be back with bowls and silverware. Want me to bring out the gumbo, Mom?”
“Please,” she said. Then she turned to Serena. “Would you like wine or tea with your dinner?”
“I’ll have whatever you and Damon are having,” Serena said.
“In that case, it’ll be wine. It’s an indulgence of ours. Even during the two years he was gone, he’d call and I’d sit here on the deck and we’d share a glass of wine and talk on the phone.”
“It sounds like you’re very close,” Serena said.
“He’s my only child,” Jo said by way of explanation.
Damon came back out with bowls and spoons then went back in and returned a moment later with a steaming pot of gumbo.
“Get the rice if you don’t mind. It’s in the steamer. And snag the bottle of wine I have laid out,” Jo said as Damon set the pot down.
She and Serena sat and when Damon returned with the rice, Jo served up the gumbo. Though it was hot and muggy, the gumbo, usually more suited for the cold of winter, tasted delicious.
After dinner, they sat back with a glass of wine and watched the lightning bugs pop over the water. In the distance crickets chirped and frogs croaked. The tree locusts added to the cacophony, but it was soothing to Serena. After so long hearing only the sounds of the city, she was lulled by the tranquility here.
“So how long have you two been together and how did you meet?” Jo asked, breaking the silence.
Serena stiffened and sent Damon a panicked glance. He took her hand under the table and squeezed reassuringly.
“We were introduced by a mutual friend. We’ve only been seeing each other a short time, but I’m hoping to convince her to keep me around for a while.”
Jo smiled. “Smooth-talking bastard, just like your father. And they expect you to fall at their feet for their efforts,” she said to Serena.
Serena laughed, her discomfort passing. “I expect they do. And I’ll admit, it does turn my head. As I’ve told him before, he’s no stranger to pretty words.”
“Lord no. I swear all the Roche men have the lion’s share of charm and charisma. Sometimes you just have to call bullshit, though.” She winked at Serena as she said the last.
Serena chuckled as Damon rolled his eyes.
“If I have charm, it sure as hell never worked on you,” Damon said to Jo. “And it damn sure never got me out of trouble.”
Jo grinned. “You have your father to blame for that. By the time you came along, I was well acquainted with the Roche silver tongue and had built an immunity.”
She turned to Serena. “What about you, Serena? Where are you from and what do your folks do?”
Damon looked curiously at her as well, and she realized that they’d never really talked about her. Or him for that matter, until the trip over. They’d been too busy talking with other parts of their anatomy.
She flushed slightly and looked away from Damon. “I was born and raised in Houston. My dad is retired from an oil company, and my mom still teaches school. I’m an only child as well.”
“Ah, then you and Damon are both likely spoiled rotten,” Jo said.
“I don’t deny it,” Damon said as he sipped at his wine.
“Good damn thing. I’d hate to be sitting close to you when that lightning bolt descends.”
Serena laughed again, enjoying the easy rapport between mother and son. It made her miss her own parents, though it hadn’t been that long since she’d last visited. It was easy to get caught up in work, become too busy to pick up the phone or stop in to say hello. After witnessing Damon and Jo’s grief over losing Damon’s father, she was going to make it a priority to see her folks as soon as she got back. Life was short. Damon’s father’s sudden passing was certainly a testament to that.
“My mom is great,” Serena said, suddenly compelled to talk about her own parents. “I probably was spoiled, but she raised me to be independent. To think and do for myself. She was one of nine children, and the only one to graduate high school. She put herself through college and got her teaching degree. I was always so proud of her. She doesn’t take any shit from anyone.”
“Sounds like my kind of lady,” Jo said.
>
“I think you’d get along well,” Serena said with a smile.
“And what do you do?” Jo asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“This isn’t an interrogation, Mom,” Damon said mildly.
“No, it’s okay,” Serena said. For a long time she had felt discomfort over explaining her business to other people. But the happiness she brought her clients quickly removed any unease she felt over the legitimacy of Fantasy Incorporated.
“I own my own business. I fulfill fantasies,” she said.
Jo blinked in surprise. “What kind of fantasies?”
“Mom,” Damon said in warning.
“Not the kind you’re thinking,” Serena said as she hid her smile. Not unless having her own sexual fantasy fulfilled counted.
“I create scenarios for people. A fantasy situation. For instance, one of my last clients had a dream of being a chef in a top restaurant in Houston. He didn’t know how to go about it, wanted me to arrange the details, so I did.”
“Oh, how fun! So it’s like a play day almost,” Jo said.
“Well, I suppose you could call it that. It’s a chance to do something you might not otherwise get to do. My most recent client wanted to be a princess of her own cruise ship.”
Serena’s face tightened, and she regretted bringing Michelle up.
“I think that’s wonderful, Serena. And how creative! I’ve never heard of another business like it.”
“Thank you. I enjoy it.”
Jo reached for her plate, but Damon stood and motioned her away.
“You ladies sit tight, and I’ll put away the dishes.”
“You raised a good man,” Serena said with a sigh as he disappeared inside.
“Yeah, well, just don’t let him think you know that,” Jo muttered. “Because then they get impossible to live with.”
Serena chuckled and leaned back in her chair, inhaling the night air. She glanced up at the sky, which was clear and dotted with the first stars. And she wished. Wished for the impossible. She wished for the fantasy to never end.
CHAPTER 26
D amon stood at the sink, looking out the window at his mom and Serena smiling and laughing like old friends. He wasn’t sure why he’d chosen now to return home or why he’d asked Serena to come. It had just seemed right. Now that he was here, he was glad he’d come. He should have never stayed away, no matter how much it hurt. His mom had been hurting too, and she’d needed him.
His mom’s questions about Serena pressed home just how little he knew about her. Yes, he’d run a background check. He knew cursory details, but he didn’t know any of the stuff that mattered. What made her tick. What she dreamed. What made her happy and what made her sad.
And it bothered the hell out of him.
He’d make it his mission to find out every nuance of what made her the person she was.
Collecting a full bottle of wine and the opener, he headed back outside. Rich laughter met his ears as he opened the door, and he realized how very good it felt to hear his mom laugh again.
The two women looked up, warm welcome in their eyes. It felt damn good. He moved his chair closer to Serena then settled beside her. He flung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into the crook of his arm.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he murmured as his mom poured more wine.
“Very much so,” she returned as she looked up at him, her blue eyes flashing from the glow of the interior lights.
“We won’t be able to stay out much longer,” Jo warned. “Mosquitos will eat us alive. The citronella seems to work for a bit after dark, but then it’s like they converge in a feeding frenzy and no humans are safe.”
“Ugh, I’m starting to itch just thinking about it,” Serena said.
“They grow ’em so big here that Louisiana tried to make the mosquito the state bird,” Jo said with a straight face.
Serena laughed. “In that case, I’ll definitely be heading in soon.”
Damon leaned close to Serena until his lips brushed her ear. He smiled when he felt the tiny shudder that worked up her spine. “Why don’t we go in now? It’s been a long day.”
She turned to look at him, her smile lighting up the night. “I am tired.”
He turned to his mom, who was already rising from her chair. “We’re going to turn in, Mom. Thanks for supper. It was wonderful as always.”
Jo leaned over and gently kissed his brow. “I’m just glad you finally came home, son.” She smiled and smoothed a hand over his cheek just like she had done when he was a boy.
She walked toward the door and then turned back. “I’ll have breakfast served up around eight in the morning. You two can eat before you get back on the road.”
As his mom disappeared inside, Serena looked at him questioningly.
“I told her we could only stay one night. I wasn’t sure . . .” He dropped his gaze, feeling a little discomfited by his uncertainty.
“You weren’t sure what?” she asked softly.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to stay,” he admitted.
She smiled and leaned up to brush her lips across his. “I think you did wonderfully, and you made your mom so happy.”
He squeezed her to him then stood, motioning her up with him. “Let’s get inside and get ready for bed. I was hard on you yesterday, and you must be exhausted.”
She trembled against him as they walked toward the French doors. He ran his hand over the curve of her bottom, remembering the glow from the crop the night before. She had reacted as he’d expected, wanting and begging for more. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a more beautiful sight than her bound before him, her skin red and pink from the lash of his whip. She had offered herself wholly to him, and he’d been humbled by her gift.
He guided her down the long hallway to his old bedroom that his mom had made into a guest room. It bore no resemblance to the teenage retreat of his high school years. Instead, it was decorated tastefully in neutral colors with her own touch of sunshine.
“The bed isn’t as big as mine,” he said as he closed the door behind them. “Which means we’ll just have to sleep closer together.”
“And that bothers you?” she asked with a raised brow.
“Not on your life,” he said as he pulled her into his arms.
He kissed her long and hard, releasing all of his pent-up hunger. Not being able to touch her the entire day, being so close and hearing her laughter, seeing her smile without being able to make love to her had driven him beyond his endurance.
“Take your clothes off,” he ordered, his voice raw and unrecognizable.
As though sensing how close he was to the edge, she slowly peeled her clothing away, performing an erotic striptease that had him simmering with impatience. She’d called him a caveman, and in this moment, he felt like one. He was ready to tear every shred of clothing from her body, throw her on the bed and fuck her senseless.
The glimmer of gold came into view as her shirt fell away, and the band that he’d given her flashed. He touched it, tracing its outline with his finger.
“You belong to me,” he said.
“I belong to you,” she affirmed quietly.
He yanked her to him, crushing her softness against his harder frame. Somewhere between endless kisses and frantic sighs, he pulled raggedly at his own clothes, shoving until they were both naked.
Like this morning, he made no effort to subdue her or keep her from touching him. He wanted it and craved it with a fierceness he couldn’t explain even to himself. Her hands stroked over his chest, a heated path that turned his insides molten.
His dick was hard, painfully so, and straining outward, bumping against the softness of her belly. And then her hands lowered, enclosing him in her silken grasp. He closed his eyes and groaned, whether in pleasure or pain, he didn’t know. Didn’t care. He only knew he wanted her to keep on touching him.
She pulled at his waist, urging him toward the bed. They tumbled together, her underneath unt
il they were sprawled on the mattress in a tangle of bodies.
“Tell me what you want, Damon,” she said as she stared up into his eyes. “I’m yours. I belong to you. I want only to please you.”
He closed his eyes savoring the sweetness of her declaration. It was as if she knew just what to say, what he needed to hear.
“Open to me, Serena mine. Take me inside your body. For I belong to you as well as you belong to me.”
Her slim thighs parted, and she opened to him as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He lowered his head to kiss her, to possess her mouth as he possessed her body. His tongue slid over hers as his cock sheathed himself in her feminine warmth.
“I could stay this way forever,” he said against her lips. “You’re so beautiful, Serena. I’ve never had another woman like you. I doubt I ever will.”
The words sounded dangerous even to his own ears, but he couldn’t call them back. He knew in the deepest, darkest corner of his soul that when it came time to let her go, it would kill him.
For now, he thrust, planting himself as deeply into her body and her heart as he could. Imprinting, claiming her. He forgot about her fantasies, that this was a kinky game built around forbidden desires. Right here and right now, he made love to her as he’d never made love to another woman.
He savored every gasp of pleasure, each sigh that poured from her lips. He sipped and savored her sweet nectar as he rode her with delicious abandon.
When he felt his orgasm looming, he stilled within her, wanting to make it last as long as possible. He didn’t want it to end yet, not before she found her own release.
Her hands fluttered to his cheeks, stroking over his jaw and touching his lips. He kissed each finger in turn as they rested against his mouth.
He didn’t need to ask her if she was close. He felt the quickening of her body, her pussy clenching tighter around his dick. Her breathing ratcheted up and she became more frantic underneath him, twisting and writhing as she sought relief.
“Together,” he whispered as he rocked against her. He thrust deeper and deeper, faster and faster until her features blurred in his vision.