He was silent for a moment. “Yeah,” he finally said, his mouth twisting into a rueful smile. He turned onto his side so they faced each other. “You weren’t around in the beginning, but she was so proud of me. When I won my first cypher contest, she invited over friends and the whole neighborhood for a cookout. She hooked it up! And she wouldn’t let me pay for a thing, because she said it wouldn’t be a gift if I had to contribute. She was the best publicist, too.” He laughed softly to himself. “Used to talk me up to everybody, including the church folks.”
“She did not. With all that cussing and sexual content in your songs?”
He chuckled. “She warned them but still let them know about my career, which she followed closer than I realized. Up until she passed, I can’t believe she still cut articles about me out of the newspapers and magazines. Not the bad ones, though. She didn’t like those.”
“Oh, I remember. She really hated when they called you a thug. I think that upset her more than it did you.”
“It did upset her. She used to chastise me in private about my behavior and warned me not to ‘give them reporters nothing to write about.’ She always had my back.” Silence. “I wish she’d let me move her out of this old house.”
“This is the house your grandfather bought for her. She was comfortable here, and think of all the memories of raising her daughter and raising you. I understand why she didn’t want to move. At least she let you do some remodeling.”
“But look how long that took. For years she told me to ‘save your money, dear heart. Save it for your future.’”
“And you still do. So the constant nagging worked.”
“I guess.” He laughed a little. “Dang, I miss her.”
“Me, too,” Charisse whispered, tears filling her eyes. She kept her voice strong because she was supposed to be comforting him.
His gaze flicked over her, eyes softening. “Know what I wish I could have right now?”
“What?”
“One of your back rubs.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Charisse said firmly. She was too fidgety and ill at ease and didn’t quite know what to do with herself and the excess energy lying next to him evoked.
“Why not?”
“It’s not a good idea, Terrence. You know that.” She picked at a loose thread in the comforter.
“I know. But you give the best back rubs. Shit feels so good.” His voice went lower. “I always feel good when I’m with you.”
Charisse continued plucking at the thread, but his words sparked pain in her chest, and she bit down on her bottom lip to fight back tears. Allowing him into the room had definitely been a bad idea. She hated what he said, because those words filled her with regret and made her feel sorry for him, when she was the one who had been hurt, and she’d had every right to walk away from their marriage.
What if he’s changed? a voice in her head whispered. But she couldn’t risk the pain again.
Terrence took her hand loosely in his. “I’m not saying these things to upset you. I want you to know how special you are to me. I appreciate you staying behind to help me out. Grandma Esther always loved you. When she was in the hospital, she gave me hell about how I’d messed things up with you. She loved you like a daughter.”
“I loved her, too.”
Charisse withdrew her hand from his and curled it into a ball. Lying together in this bed, they were playing with fire. Cutting off contact was a necessity, or she might do something foolish. To change the subject to a safer topic, she said, “I loved her gingersnap cookies, and the way the house smelled when she baked.”
“Them dang cookies were the best. She didn’t bake as much in recent years, but for my birthday last year, she baked me one of her apple pies.”
Charisse stared at him. “Wait a minute, Grandma Esther baked you an apple pie and you didn’t say anything?”
“Huh?” Faux-innocent eyes looked back at her.
“You heard me. Are you telling me you had one of her apple pies, and you didn’t share?” His grandmother made the best apple pies she’d ever tasted, with the most amazing sugar-sprinkled crust.
“I thought you didn’t want the kids to have too much sugar,” Terrence said.
“Who’s talking about the kids? I’m talking about me. You know how much I love her pies. Did you eat the whole thing by yourself?”
“Hello…”
“Oh my goodness!” Charisse shoved him and turned onto her other side, giving him her back.
“Hold up. It was my birthday,” Terrence said.
“I don’t care,” Charisse said over her shoulder. “You know much I loved her baking, especially her apple pie. The fact that you ate the whole pie for yourself and didn’t save me a slice, shows exactly the kind of person you are. You are greedy. That’s what it boils down to.”
“Come on, don’t be like that. Besides, I didn’t eat the whole thing by myself. Grandma shared a slice with me.” He flung an arm across her body and rested his chin on her arm. His touch heated her skin through the thin layer of clothes.
“Get off me, Terrence. Go back to your room.”
“I’m hurting. My grandmother passed.”
Charisse remained silent.
“You’re not going to give me the silent treatment, are you?”
She didn’t reply.
“You know I don’t tolerate that,” he warned.
Charisse shook him off, fluffed the pillow, and resettled on the bed. She closed her eyes.
“You know what’s coming,” Terrence warned.
Charisse’s eyes flew open. “Don’t you dare—”
His fingers dug into her sides, and a round of tickling began. Gasping, Charisse did her best to fight him off, but he was relentless.
“Say you forgive me,” he said, sliding on top of her.
She refused at first but finally relented. “Okay, okay!” She could barely breathe for laughing so hard. “I forgive you.”
He stopped, and they both simply looked at each other. The blanket continued to separate them, but one of his legs was lodged between her thighs. He rested on his elbows, but the weight from the lower part of his body bore down on her. That bout of tickling had made her core unexpectedly warm and wet. Why couldn’t she make this ache go away? It constantly gnawed at her.
“I wasn’t kidding with what I said earlier,” Terrence said quietly.
“About what?” Charisse swallowed, a deep pain appearing behind the walls of her abdomen. Something was happening between them. She feared it at the same time she welcomed it.
“I always feel better when I’m with you.”
He lowered his head hesitantly at first. When she didn’t move, he kissed her, and the world stood still for a split second before an explosion of sensation detonated in her body.
10
Charisse panted into his mouth. She wanted him desperately. She never wanted anyone the way she wanted this man, and despite her better judgment, she had to have him. Now.
It didn’t take much to get her naked. Terrence worked her panties past her hips and slipped off the nightshirt with ease. He tossed the clothes to the side and then hurriedly removed his own and tossed them aside, too. When they were both stripped bare, he stared at her body in wonder.
“I never thought I’d see you like this again.”
A frisson of desire sparked in her loins when he looked at her like that, but she didn’t have time to think, much less respond. His lips pressed to hers, meshing their mouths in a searing kiss that stole her breath and made her dizzy with pleasure. The taste of him was incredible. Like something new and different, yet familiar. Her fingers skated over his soft, wavy hair, and all four limbs wrapped around him like tentacles while she kissed him deep, stroking the inside of his mouth with her tongue.
Terrence relinquished her lips and made his way to the middle of her breasts. He fastened on each one in turn, sucking each nipple while flicking the swollen tip with his tongue. They became his singul
ar focus for a while. With gentle tugs from his teeth and kneading fingers, he treated them to exquisite torture. She arched into the merciless onslaught, rounding her back into a sharp curve to meet the demands of his mouth.
When he’d had his fill, Terrence cupped her sex with a possessive hand and kissed her stomach. Deft fingers spread her lower lips in preparation for what she knew was about to come.
His mouth moved lower, and he ran his nose along her inner thigh. He inhaled deeply. “You smell so good,” he whispered huskily.
Terrence licked his lips as she closed her eyes, unable to bear looking as he bent his head toward her aching flesh. He cradled her bottom in his hands and when he placed a teasing lick to her sensitive sex, intense sensations exploded on her skin. He slid his tongue in. She let out a low moan and pressed her hand to the back of his head, fingers digging into his scalp as she silently pleaded for him to send her over the edge.
She spread her thighs without prompting and let him have his way with her. Each ragged gasp signaled her pleasure as his swirling tongue took her closer to heaven. He growled in appreciation as he plundered her slick flesh and owned her with his mouth. Tasting and licking. Nibbling and sucking.
“You taste so good. So sweet. I could never have enough of you.”
She’d received oral sex from other men, but Terrence was so enthusiastic, turning an already sensual act into something so raw and carnal, he turned her on in a way other men didn’t. She rotated her hips against his mouth, and when he squeezed her butt cheeks, the combined pressure of his hands at her back and his mouth at her front sent her careening over the edge of bliss.
She cried out and clawed the mattress. Mindlessly, she arched upward, panting so hard she was certain the harsh breaths scored her throat. When he finally released her, she settled back down. She came so fast she was almost embarrassed, but it couldn’t be helped. Terrence was good, and more than five years had passed since he made love to her. The accumulation of random touches, nighttime phone conversations, and laughter prompted by inside jokes banked up during all that time, waiting for this very moment.
Smoothing his hands over her thighs and pelvis, he came back up. “You still got that bomb pussy. Just delicious,” he whispered. Then he pushed the scarf from her head and slid his fingers over her hair.
Grasping her head, he kissed her with tongue, swallowing her mouth with a greedy, wet kiss. He bit her chin and sucked on the side of her neck.
His hands once again moved to her breasts—massaging, kneading, squeezing.
“Terrence…”
“Tell me what you want.”
“You.” That had always been an issue when they made love. No matter how much he gave, she always wanted more.
She reached between his legs and closed her fingers around his impressive size. He closed his eyes and winced like someone in pain.
“You got me, Charisse.” He opened his eyes and looked deeply into hers. “Always.”
He nudged her legs apart and pushed into her. Every molecule, every cell, ceased movement in that moment.
Long and thick, he filled her to capacity. With an open-mouthed groan, she let him know how good he felt.
“Damn, I miss fucking you.” His words hit the side of her neck. He groaned as he continued to slide into her with deliciously long strokes.
Her fingers sank into his firm bottom and she rose to meet him.
“That’s it. Give it to me,” he encouraged roughly. He sucked air between his teeth.
“Terrence,” she whimpered. His slow movements were driving her insane.
“I know, sweetheart. Feels good, don’t it?” he whispered. He kissed her arched throat, and her fingers dug into his upper spine.
“Yes. You feel so good. You always feel so good.”
Her hands wandered over his beautiful dark skin. She wanted to touch him everywhere.
She slid her hands over his obliques and across his back. His smooth skin was soft and warm to the touch. In continuous slow motion, he slid up into her aroused flesh. With his knees far apart, he kept her splayed wide for his pleasure while he took his time to savor the moment. He sank his teeth into her shoulder, and her nails raked his back as she met each thrust, desperate to control the speed but he refused to let her.
“You ready, sweetheart? You ready to come again?”
She whimpered an answer because she couldn’t talk. She could only think about the connection they shared and the sweet friction between her legs.
He rotated a thumb over her hard right nipple and his hips lunged faster as he picked up the pace.
She found his mouth, using a hand at the back of his head to force him to kiss her. Their mouth-to-mouth contact was erotic, setting aflame her already heated body. Her other hand wrapped around his neck, holding him close as she kept time with each pump of his pelvis.
Terrence sank into her in a relentless pattern and she came hard, quivering around him. Her nails dug into her palm and a sharp cry split the air. She turned her nose to his throat and forced his head lower. She needed him closer, needed to meld their bodies into one being. She whispered his name like a prayer as a tidal wave of pleasure billowed through her body.
He groaned and came, too. The sound was guttural and harsh. There was nothing sexier than hearing him lose control like that. Clutching the pillow and arching his back, he emptied inside her.
He collapsed with a shudder. For a moment, only their heavy breathing could be heard.
“I love you so much.”
Charisse pretended not to hear the words he whispered, but she kept her arms wrapped around him, holding on tight for a little bit longer.
11
Charisse stared up at the ceiling and listened to Terrence in the bathroom down the hall. She still felt him between her legs, his mouth on her skin, his hands kneading her breasts.
What had they done? They’d had sex, that’s what they’d done. She’d loved every minute of it, but they needed to talk. He had a woman in his life, and she had a man in her life. They had messed up.
The years since the divorce helped dull the ache in her chest, and except for most recently, the smiles came easier and more naturally. She couldn’t go back down the road of misery and pain she left behind years ago.
Terrence reentered the room and she held her breath, mind racing to find the right words. She closed her eyes to buy herself more time, but when he climbed onto the bed, he pulled off the covers, and her eyes flew open.
Before she could protest, he used a warm wet washcloth to clean her up, sending a renewed surge of heat through her still sensitive flesh. He tended to her with such care, she simply lay there, watching him. When he finished, he set the washcloth aside.
“Better?” he asked.
“Mhmm.”
They lay on their sides, both uncovered, both naked. Her nipples were hard and her body hummed from the pleasurable lovemaking, but she remained still. She hated him a little bit. Why did he have to be such a good lover? Why couldn’t any other man make her go through the same intense, almost violent waves of passion he awakened inside her?
“You’re so gorgeous, you know that?” Terrence whispered.
“Thank you.”
Her fingertip traced her name written in cursive on his skin. Didn’t his lovers have a problem with him having his ex-wife’s name tattooed on his chest?
“I can’t believe you never covered this.”
“Told you I’d never cover it. You didn’t believe me?”
“I guess I’m surprised.”
Whenever he posed shirtless for the gram—hanging with the fellas, during a workout on the set of a video shoot, or partying at some other celebrity’s pad—her name was obvious for the general public to see. Right after the divorce, occasionally interviewers asked if he would cover it up.
“Why would I?” he’d retort, and he’d mean-mug them, daring them to pursue that line of questioning. The stare off usually ended with the reporter laughing uncomfortably and sa
ying something like, “Just asking.” Then they’d move on to the next topic.
After a few of those awkward moments, he was never asked about her name on his chest again.
“We need to talk,” Charisse said.
“About what?”
“About what happened tonight.”
“What happened is that we had sex.”
“I know.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then reopened them. “But what we did—”
“Shh.” He scooted down in the bed and pressed his lips to her hip. His moist tongue lapped the curve of her skin, and she closed her eyes, shuddering and wanting more.
“Terrence, we can’t. We can’t do this.”
“We already did. What’s one more time?”
Her throbbing core agreed with him.
He came higher and covered her right breast with his hand. He knew that was the most sensitive one, so he’d basically declared war on her resistance.
He kissed her neck, and she arched into his lips and the squeeze of his hand. She let him suck his way down to her breasts. He squeezed them both together and when he fanned his tongue across the swollen tip of the right one, she almost came. Gasping, she clutched the back of his head.
She wanted him. Oh god, how she wanted him again. Over and over. As much as he would give her. The greedy little monster between her legs hadn’t had nearly enough.
“Terrence, wait…”
“Hmm?” His teeth grated over the tip of her breast, and she shivered.
Focus. She pushed at his shoulders and he reluctantly released the nipple, a lazy smile crossing his lips.
Finally able to breathe easier, Charisse met his gaze. “We have to talk about this.”
“What is there to talk about?”
“You’re hurting right now. You’re not thinking straight.”
“I’m thinking straight. I told you before we came here that I wanted another chance with you.”
“Okay fine, I’m not thinking straight!” She needed to get through to him.
He smirked. “We had a good sex life, and tonight proves we still have that fire. Why you want to fight this when it feels so good?” He slid a hand between her legs and fingered her moist flesh. “Give me one good reason why I should stop kissing on you, loving on you, when we both want it.”
Without You (Quicksand Book 2) Page 6