My lips parted slightly. I closed my eyes. He kissed me softly once and then again with lingering. I returned it, liking the warmth and moisture and the way his soft bottom lip fit between my full ones. We kissed more deeply for a while but finally he broke away slowly and gazed into my eyes.
“May I?” he asked quietly and his molten green eyes were filled with intent yearning as they flicked down to the waiting hand at the edge of my collar. I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I couldn’t break eye contact as I nodded minutely.
The back of his hand stroked the exposed skin a few times, and he held my gaze as I felt him unbutton my buttons, I felt every one, down to my ribs. My breathing hitched as he slowly slid his warm hand inside the fabric.
My chest was rising and falling heavily now, and I know he felt my heart pound slow and hard as he pulled down the stretchy sheer fabric of my bra cup and I felt the cool hair hit my breast, hardening my nipple. His fingers danced lightly, inspiring a shiver and he pulled the collar down over my shoulder, until my neckline and breast were completely exposed to him. He slid his hand slowly down from the skin of my bare shoulder and began circling my nipple with the tip of one finger, teasing and tickling as light as a feather.
“Look how lovely you are.” It sounded like poetry. His hungry eyes dropped from mine, down to admire himself touching me, encouraging me to follow his lead.
I kept my eyes on him because I knew watching him pleasure me in that way would send me over, his touch already too much.
“May I?” he asked as his eyes flicked back up to mine, on fire with want—dangerously so. The air seemed lethargic, not urgent, like an elixir and each breath was a drink. My chin moved slightly without my permission, and I saw the corner of his mouth lift fractionally, in satisfaction, before lowering himself down to my breast.
His hot mouth began gently sucking and licking as his large hand slowly kneaded, while my hands gripped the edge of the seat, keeping my eyes fixed on the roof instead of on the beautiful man at my chest. He slowed and twirled his tongue, the contrast between the cool ventilated air and his mouth driving me wild inside, and then he affectionately licked me one last time.
“It’s only us, Gabrielle. No one else can see,” he assured in a smooth, deep voice, his breath fanning the moisture his lips left on my skin, and I felt like there was no one else in the world but him and me in the back of a black limo on a nameless street on a city night.
I couldn’t resist anymore, or didn’t want to, and I combed my fingers into his thick hair, pulling him in to me and a long moan of pleasure escaped me as he went back to his work. I felt his other hand on my knee and he rubbed it in signal, but I was already wet as my legs parted for him and he slowly slid his hand upwards.
His now ravenous mouth kissed and sucked its way higher, to my collarbone, then my neck. His hand slid under my hair and pulled me closer to him, my head rolling back granting him better access, his broad chest pressed against me. I felt his fingers graze me below gently, like a whisper, and my thighs spread further. He began rubbing me along with the tempo of his mouth at my neck, and I was moaning as my eyes fluttered closed and I let myself feel it completely.
I felt his finger hook the fabric before plunging it inside me and then another as he slowly pumped his long fingers in and out, and his thumb found me. I was moaning and breathing hard and the throbbing increased as I started to feel the rush and I pressed myself into his hand.
Suddenly, he removed his hand and my thighs squeezed, wanting it back, but his slick finger trailed across my thigh and he leaned completely over me as both his hands went to the sides of my panties, and I lifted off the seat as he slid them down my legs and off and let his hand stroke its way back up slowly. I looked at him, desperate for the release he denied me.
“May I kiss you, Gabrielle?” he asked smoothly, and to my ears it sounded like song. I gasped as his thumb strummed me like a master at his instrument and my breathing hitched because I realized what he was asking.
“Yes,” I gasped, panting as his fingers slid up and down against me and his eyes glinted with lust. He quickly removed his jacket and lowered himself to his knees on the carpeted floor in front of me and nudged his hips into my knees, spreading them wide to make room for himself between them.
He kissed his way slowly down my chest, sharply sliding me forward; opening my dress, then slipped a finger inside me again, quickly joined by another. My heart was fluttering as he got lower, and I felt his silky hair brush the inside of my thigh just before he reached his destination, feather light, and my whole body shuddered from the rush, his skilled tongue slowly teased me in circles.
His fingers pumped faster as his tongue began to swirl, and he lifted one leg over his shoulder and slid me closer to him as his talented tongue delved deeper. I combed my hands in his hair, pulling him right into my center, and he moaned with pleasure as he held me firmly against him while I writhed. I was still quaking from the aftershocks as he gently lifted my leg, setting it back down, and I felt his finger under my chin but I was still flying.
“You taste so good,” he said, and in one swift movement, he sat, yanking me on top of him in a straddle. He looked up at me through his dark lashes and he began teasing me with his fingers, and I’d thought I’d orgasm again on the spot. His other hand unfastened his pants, setting himself free. It was beautiful sight. “Now show me how good you are, Gabrielle,” he said in a husky tone with his eyes smoldering. I leaned down and licked his bottom lip because I liked the way it glistened and the way I tasted on him, in word and in flavor. His mouth curled a little in the corner as he pushed me down, onto him, around him, and we both groaned while he ground me down and slid me back up to the edge. The heat and size of him was jarring and comforting all at once as he shoved me back down.
I took over automatically and began rocking against him while his hands dug into my thighs. He leaned back in his seat watching me work, and his eyes were on fire as I felt his hand slip up my spine to my neck. Suddenly he jerked me against him, and I gasped as he put his lips to my ears.
“You’re so good now, aren’t you?” he taunted roughly, and at the sound of his voice I whimpered and ground against him again, but he just gripped my bottom tighter and shoved me harder down on him. “But you’ll have to do better than that for me.”
Without thought, I leaned my body back at an angle with his big hand on the small of my back, guiding me, and stretched my body out for him, raising my hands to press against the roof of the limo.
He grasped me with both hands then and moved me once and I instinctively followed his lead, pressing down on him hard, using the resistance and riding him with every inch of his length. The pace got more desperate, harder and harder, and I was making noise like a drowning woman, panting, gasping, as he filled me and took me, and he thrust up to meet me and then I was right at the edge again.
He groaned loudly and then slammed me down, dragging me against his chest, and then thrust up again, hitting the spot that caused me to burst. My body snaked against his hard chest in impatience, and I whimpered as I felt his lips at my ear in a hoarse growl. “Only I can do this, do you understand? Only me.”
Then he showed me what he meant. I heard his hard breath in my ear as he rocked me faster and faster, his hands gripped me tightly, and I clenched around him as I rode out wave after wave of euphoria with his body in mine. I felt weightless, suspended, my skin sparking all over. He leaned his head back and groaned as I felt him pulsing inside me, and I couldn’t stop until finally I collapsed on his chest and his arms encircled me.
We stayed like that for a few moments, calming our breathing as the air seemed to thin.
The electricity unplugged as the small static snaps silenced, and his body in mine began to seem foreign. Reality rejoined me, and I gingerly laid my hands on his chest to push myself off, his hands tightened. Our eyes met, but he relinquished his grip and when his body slid out of mine, it felt like mine took a deep breath.
&nbs
p; He was still breathing heavily when he opened his eyes, wearing the same glazed over, vacant stare that I was sure my eyes reflected.
I rolled onto the seat, pushing myself into the far corner and began to button my dress and refasten my belt as I saw him reach for his jacket coat and slide it back on after he adjusted his pants and buttoned and tucked in his shirt. Back in order, like it was just nothing.
I felt every pothole and heard every hum of the city as the silence grew strained, caught in some vapid vacuum as my mind raced in loops of what the hell just happened like a skipping disc that wouldn’t stop. The cab of the limo was stagnant with the collateral damage left behind by the crashing of an uncontrollable wave.
I watched life roll past outside the window in streaks of bright lights because I didn’t like how I felt and this wasn’t who I was. This was empty. This was sex without love. This was sex without like. This was only lust. I knew; it felt good, but this wasn’t me. I wouldn’t let it be me. I felt brainwashed around him, disoriented, a stranger in my body, and it scared me.
I chanced a glance over at Daniel and couldn’t even be upset with him because his brows were knitted together and seemed to be just as deep in thought as I was. I wondered who he was thinking of. I felt the car coming to a halt, and when it did, I wordlessly opened the door, stepping one barefoot out onto the pavement and steadied myself.
“Take as much time as you need,” I said. “For Tristan. I want you to know that the door is always open. But I can’t do this anymore. This…whatever this is, it ends.”
I’d only gone a few steps when I heard the power window behind me. “Gabrielle.”
I turned. His eyes were hard. “You forgot these.” I closed the gap in two steps and snatched the forgotten panties off his fingers. The window rolled back up, and the car pulled away.
Chapter 16 - The Celestial Harvest
Jill peered down at the frosted mound. “What kind of cake is that?”
“It’s a race car from that movie,” I answered, arranging sugar eyes on the “windshield”.
“Dukes of Hazard?” Ian asked, leaning in above me.
“Cars,” I corrected. “It’s a movie about cars.” I angled my head to check to the proportions.
“Huh. Okay, I see it,” Vi said, then circled a finger over the front end. “Is this a post-collision effect happening here?”
“Violet, don’t you need to go snag a goodie bag for some boy-toy of yours?” Jill interjected.
“Oh, come on,” she said, leaning back. “They’re not that immature and neither am I.” She’d slid the elastic bands up her arms and adjusted two cone party hats on her shoulders. Coupled with her blue-streaked hair and galactic print dress, she looked like a rainbow doll gone metal. Ian chuckled.
“Good grief,” Jill rolled her eyes. “Ian, help me with these drinks.”
“You got it,” he said, grabbing two lemonade pitchers, eyes fixed pointedly on Jill’s back view as she exited.
“Huh. I thought Ian was a boob man,” Vi chuckled, popping a grape in her mouth.
“I’m a woman man, half-pint,” he called cheerfully over his shoulder. “If you got it, I like it. If you let me touch it, I like it even more.” We could hear an irrepressible grin in his voice.
Vi giggled. “What a putz.”
I squeezed more frosting on the headlight of the cake. It was a little droopy up front, but nothing more icing couldn’t fix. I felt Violet’s eyes on me as she spoke.
“Are you upset?” she asked carefully, perching on the counter. I stood back, eying my race car, piping bag in the air like a detective with his piece pointed securely to the sky. I was done. The car looked good. She was still staring at me. I exhaled a deep breath.
“What?” I said, eyes shifting to her.
Her lips quirked up in a wry look, revealing what I would call her “slim girl dimple”. Violet had full hips and chest, with a tiny flat waist but her neck shoulders and arms were more slender than her derrière implied. Too much definition in her bone structure for a full nail-peg dimple. That took baby fat. It was more like a deep crease. She deepened the look with a brow raised.
“I can’t be, really. Like I said, it’s been his choice all along,” I answered, attempting neutrality. I laid down my “piece” and began poking candles in the blue fondant frosting.
She was the only one who’d I’d confided in about inviting Daniel. What was the point? I’d received no reply, no RSVP. The email reminder invitation I’d sent him the day prior showed as unopened. We’d had no contact. He wasn’t coming. I stopped short of bitterly thinking he owed me, considering that meant my end had been paid for in full in a car ride.
My feelings were so mixed up they were hardly discernible in the emotional batter, but looking at the sloping front end of my pastry Mustang, I was commiserate. I wasn’t entirely sure who I was feeling that on behalf of anymore. He’d been just as absent from my sleep; it was a small favor.
I pressed the last candle in a little too vigorously.
“It is pretty crappy, though,” she empathized, studying the party horn in her hands as it twisted between manicured fingers. She always did them differently. They were black and gold French manicure this time—real gold leaf and all.
“It’s not important,” I bolstered—for both of us. “Today is a happy day and I’d rather not brood.” But I realized that’s exactly what I’d been doing. It would have to wait.
“That’s right. Because brooding is for who?” she said, her impish smile spreading.
“Teens in black eyeliner and James Dean?”
She chuckled. “No. It’s for losers.”
“That was my next guess.” I searched for a grin and came up short. Instead I reached for the cake and paused a moment, looking down over it. She patted my shoulder, letting her hand linger there.
I smiled a synthetic smile, and she did the same as we lit the candles and headed for the small group of excited children waiting in the dining room. Then there was a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it,” I said, passing Violet the cake.
I licked the blue icing off my thumb before opening the door. The man standing on the other side surprised me, in all black, cradling a brightly wrapped box under one arm, and a giant gift bag spouting rainbow tissue paper in the other. We took each other in.
“Don’t look so happy to see me,” Zack said.
“I’m always happy to see you, Zack,” I assured, a welcoming smile dawning on my face, realizing I was very happy indeed. “Always.” I gripped him in a hug. The gift bag he held crunched, then thudded landing on the ground, and an arm encircled my waist.
“You sure are turning into a hugger, Bree,” he observed. He smelled of city wind and motorcycle leather.
“Turning over a new leaf,” I joked. I was sure he wasn’t coming. We hadn’t spoken since my visit, and I had counted him out completely. I hadn’t been looking forward to explaining that to Tristan.
More seriously, he said, “Ya happy, Bree?’
“Sure,” I said, releasing him. “Come on in.”
Tristan dropped what he was doing upon seeing Uncle Zack and came over to show his friends the tattoos, which drew many ooh’s and ahh’s. Even Chen’s mom, Annie, the only parent who volunteered to stay, seemed impressed by the exhibition.
I lit the candles and we all cheerfully sang “Happy Birthday” before having cake and opening presents. Tristan and a few of his guests were ogling his new mini telescope courtesy of August when there was a knock. Probably an early pick-up, I began to lift from my seat, but August smiled, directing me, “Relax. I’ll get it.”
“Mr. Baird,” August said, sounding surprised. My head spun in equal surprise.
Daniel gave August an appraising once over. “I’m here by request of Ms. Valentine.”
“Yes, of course,” he inclined. “Come in.”
Daniel took one long step past August—who threw me a bewildered look—and into my small apartment. He was in a leathe
r jacket, blue jeans covering his long legs. The casualness of his attire seemed half of what had startled August. It’s started me too, when he wore the same to take me away. Still it didn’t negate an ounce of Daniel’s presence of authority as he entered. He surveyed the room with vague indifference, lingering on no one but assessing. I could see Zack’s mind struggling to place the late arrival then Jill leaned in for a whisper. Understanding clicked when he visibly bristled and his eyes tightened.
All of a sudden, the room seemed very, very small. As though all the air was escaping a balloon with an almost audible leak. Deflating. I hadn’t considered this beforehand, but it seemed like too much male for my little condo. Too many alphas. Daniel saw me and looked down at my hands. The blue frosting dye staining my cuticles. August approached his side.
“Daniel, please come in. Let’s get you some cake,” August said warmly.
I felt a tug at my sleeve, it was a little girl named Maddie, wearing a frown to accompany the lemonade stain soaking her dress. I got her cleaned up and dressed in a fresh aquarium shirt with soccer shorts. I was swept up tending to the birthday boy and his guests, stealing occasional glances towards Daniel. Kid problems were easy. Adult problems, not so much.
Daniel was engaged in conversation with August, and Ian joined in. I silently thanked them. Zack and Jill, normally civil adversaries, had suddenly found common ground as they spoke in whispers beside the television console. Violet flitted around working on her love/fear with small children as she mimed funny impressions, then squeaking as they got too near her designer dress with sticky cake fingers. It was only then I noticed I wasn’t the only one stealing glances; I caught Tristan taking Daniel in curiously above the heads of his buddies. He must have remembered him from their encounters prior, and at least the dirty look from Del Posto was gone. These were definitely uncharted waters.
The kids decided to take the new toys and play with Herman, Tristan’s lizard, and when Ian, Annie, and Vi joined us at the lizard tank in his bedroom, I was able to break away. I found Daniel sitting on the sofa alone distracted with his phone. On his lap were a set of keys, which he pocketed. Even in the mundane act, the man was photo worthy. He could grace any cover just as he was, and it would sell. He tucked the phone away, too, leaning back into the seat. I took the seat beside him. Many awkward seconds ensued, and I chastised myself mentally. He was leaning back, his leather against the leather of the sofa. I glanced at him, at his profile, catching a glimpse the center peak of his lip where it sloped at the cupid’s bow, under his sculpted masculine nose. I’d seen him in all forms of undress, shouldn’t I be able to break the ice with him? No words came easy. Our ice felt as fragile as winter’s first spidery freeze on an endless lake, no land in sight ahead. The nerves took over.
In the Land of Milk and Honey Page 21