I’m still mesmerized by his sexy physique when he stands and takes the box to the table. He sits in one of the chairs and arranges the pieces on the board.
“You’re red. I’m black,” he says.
“Is that because red’s for girls?” I ask, grinning.
“Exactly.” He smiles back. “How did you know?”
“I have a brother.”
“Oh, one of your father’s sons? I thought you weren’t close?”
“No, I’m talking about my older brother.”
He lifts his eyebrows. “Where does he live?”
This is the hard part. My legs grow weak, and I sit down in front of the red pieces.
“He doesn’t live anywhere. He’s dead.” I keep my eyes pinned to the board.
I feel Belmont’s reaction in his pause. “I’m sorry. I can see how hard it is for you to talk about it.”
I nod as my eyes water and sinuses constrict. I clear my throat to keep my voice from cracking in case he asks me another question about Daniel.
“This isn’t going to work,” Belmont claims.
The next thing I know, he takes my hands and lifts me to my feet. We shuffle around the table and he yanks my body against his. His tongue is deep in my mouth. Every part of him is rock hard: his thighs, his chest, his hands, and his rod. Belmont has a way of being forceful yet gentle. The way he shoves a hand under my skirt and squeezes is a perfect example.
“Do you have sex often?” He asks as the tips of his fingers slide in and out of my vagina.
“No,” I gasp. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Because you’re waxed.”
“Oh,” I sigh. “I like it. It feels cleaner.” I let out another loud gasp when his fingers curl inside of me, and he pushes them against something. I have no idea what he’s touching, but it creates the most pleasurable feeling.
“I know I’m taking a gamble and I’m asking a lot,” he whispers. “But I want to see this guy, your ex.”
“Huh?” I cry out as his palm shifts against my pubic bone and works in unison with his fingers. I’m on the verge of climaxing. I grab his shirt, clinging to him as he walks me to the foot of the bed and lays me down.
Belmont certainly has the magic touch. He knows how to take me from zero to screaming out of my head in less than ten seconds. That’s exactly what I do until he wraps his tongue around mine. He snatches off my panties. As soon as he unbuttons and unzips his pants, his rock-hard erection springs forward. Instinctively, I spread my legs as he kneels between my thighs, staring into my eyes. I wonder what he’s thinking. His lips are parted, and he’s breathing heavily.
He touches me there and lifts his fingers to his nose. “I love the way you smell”—he puts the fingers in his mouth—“and taste.”
There’s nothing but fiery lust in his eyes. He peels me out of my dress and unhooks the clips at the front of my bra. He watches my breasts fall out of the cups.
“Daisy, he’s not going to leave until he sees you. The faster he’s gone, the better,” Belmont says out of the blue.
At first I’m confused, but then it computes. “Adrian?”
“Yeah, your ex.”
“Do you think we should talk about this right now?” I ask, panting from desire.
“I want him to see that you’ve moved on.” He pauses to get a good eyeful of my naked body. “Hell, I don’t know where to start first.”
“Belmont,” I say, way more sober than he is. I lift myself up on my elbows.
“Yeah?”
“Belmont,” I call louder, hoping to rattle him out of his stupor.
He blinks hard. “Yeah?”
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll do it. I’ll see what he has to say.”
“Will it be hard for you to see him?”
“I don’t know,” I admit.
“Do you love him?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Do you love me?” he asks.
My mouth is caught open. Yes! my heart shouts. But then it tells me to beware. I usually lose what I love. Love has never been my best friend or made me any promises of happiness. For all general purposes, love has become my enemy.
Without receiving an answer, Belmont impales me with his thickness. Slowly, carefully, he thrusts. Our hearts beat near each other and our lips press hard against each other.
“Do you love me?” he asks again.
“So soon?” I whisper.
“Doesn’t take long when it’s like this.” Suddenly he pushes deep inside of me, grunting and quivering. After a few moments, he becomes still. “See how fast that was?”
We both burst out in laughter.
“I already know how you feel about me,” he says after we simmer down. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t love me.”
“Is it love or lust?” I feel comfortable enough with him to ask hard questions.
“It’s both.”
“Or one.”
He turns silent and so do I.
“We could test it by not having sex, but I’ve got to have you. I’m in lust with you. Can’t deny it. But I love a lot of things about you too.”
“Oh yeah, like what?” I doubt he knows enough about me to love a lot about me.
“You’re gentle. I love the way your eyes light up when you’re captivated by something, like the beach or a red bird. You look at me like that sometimes, and it gets me right here.” He pats his chest. “And here.” He prods me with his brand-new erection. He sighs as he continues thrusting me. “And you’re smart. You’re not cheap; you’re expensive. I can’t believe I can afford you. We’re going to grow old and gray together. You watch.”
I can’t focus on all the reasons I feel the way I do about him because he withdraws his rod to trail kisses down my belly and latches onto my hot button.
An hour later, we lay together, loose limbed, on the bed. The checkerboard looms in the distance. Just seeing the perfectly placed pieces makes me chuckle at how easily we abandoned the plan. Belmont looks confused by my laughter.
“I thought we came here to play checkers.”
“We did, and we will,” he says optimistically. “One day. When this”—he waves a hand across our naked bodies—“calms down.”
“You think we’ll be together that long?” I ask before I can take it back.
Belmont lifts me on top of him. “Always doubting. Why is that?”
“What do you mean?”
He plants a quick yet meaningful kiss on my lips. “You just can’t give in to this. You want to, but you can’t. I think it’s about more than your ex-boyfriend. I thought it was him until you told me about your brother.”
“Huh?” I croak and scramble out of his embrace to sit on the side of the bed.
After a moment, he sits beside me. Our faces are very close.
“I’m not going anywhere, Daisy,” he declares in an intimate voice. “You have to trust someone. Why not me?”
I close my eyes. “I trust people,” I say unconvincingly.
“Is that so? Who might they be?” he challenges.
“My…” I start but stop. I want to say “parents,” but this thing with Belmont makes me more honest with myself. I close my eyes and shake my head.
“It’s okay, babe.” He gently kisses my mouth.
“My parents divorced about a month after my brother died,” I disclose.
He doesn’t drawback or move an inch. He stays close, so close I can feel his breath upon my lips.
“It was like once he was gone, there was no need to be a family anymore. They both remarried, had other children…” I don’t realize I’m crying until one of my tears drops onto my thigh.
Belmont’s lips go to work, kissing and licking the skin beneath my eyes. His tender act makes me able to give in to him fully. I accept his gesture, and my lips greedily seek his. Our arms and hands grasp for each other. Our legs twist and curl. I whimper as my mouth seeks refuge in his.
“Yes,” I finally say. “I do love you.”
Chapter 8
Unburied Secrets
Belmont and I leave the checkerboard alone. He says we’ll come back tomorrow and play a few rounds. I certainly hope not. Since I’ve admitted that I don’t think I matter to my parents, I’m contemplating confessing that I hate board games, especially checkers.
I glance at him as the colonial structures of his beachside estate come into view. It’s hard to believe I’m in a relationship with the person who owns that cluster of houses. It’s so permanent, so adult. And then there’s Belmont himself. He’s so perfect for me, and at first sight—or second and third sight—I would’ve never guessed it.
I didn’t call Maya and tell her we’re planning on meeting them at the restaurant. I hope that she and Adrian decided seeing me again was a lost cause and packed up and ferried out.
Belmont leaves me alone in an office to fire up my computer and work a little before we leave. Lo and behold, there’s an email from Dusty. He’s, checking up on my progress, requesting pictures and reiterating how excited he is about hosting an article for the taxicab series that I haven’t yet begun to write.
I respond that I will get back to him in two days with photos and a teaser. Although to be honest, I’m not quite sure that will happen.
I also have three magazines requesting articles covering Peru, Mali, and cities around the Caspian Sea, which can be a little dangerous. Before all hell broke loose in my life, I would’ve said yes to Peru and Mali and probably to the Caspian Sea. I would’ve penciled each trip in my calendar, and they would’ve brought purpose to my life.
For now, I don’t answer any of the editors yet. I need a few days to decide. I sit back in the black leather swivel chair and look out the window. What a nice office space. The sun has long set, so it’s dark out, but yard lights illuminate the trees beyond the window.
Belmont is somewhere in the house when I decide to get up and get dressed. He sure does know how to give me space, and for that, I’m appreciative.
Funny, I can’t get a song out of my head, and now I’m humming it. It’s “Need You Now” by Lady Antebellum.
I make it to the bedroom. I strip out of my dress and decide to take another shower. The warm water rains down on my skin, and the steam encapsulates me. Now I’ve gone from humming to singing. I sound awful, but it doesn’t matter. I love this song, and not even the water spraying my face can quiet me.
“Who, me?” Belmont whispers in my ear. His naked body rubs against my backside as his hands on my belly draw me into him. “If you need me now, then here I am.”
I giggle like a teenager with a crush. My eyes are still closed when he spins me around to face him. “What are you doing?” I try to blink my eyes open.
“No.” He covers my eyes. “Keep them closed.”
“Why?”
He removes his hand, and I open them. “Trust me, Daisy.” His dry lips kiss my moist ones. “Close them.” He waits for me to do as he asks.
I concede with a deep sigh. Suddenly, the hand that has become as familiar to me as a third limb slides between my thighs. I step my legs apart.
“Don’t move,” he orders and prompts me to move my leg back where it was before. “No matter what I do to you, don’t move.”
I chuckle nervously. I figured Belmont was a sexologist, but he is quite naughty.
“You’re slippery,” he whispers heavily.
His hands squeeze my breasts, and then his teeth bite my nipple. I part my lips to release a gasp when I feel the sting. The throbbing is quickly replaced with a soft, sensual warmth. He does the same thing to the other breast, following the pain with pleasure. Belmont mutters something unintelligible as his hot mouth bites and sucks up to my neck. He’s breathing hard through his nose as he sucks harder and harder.
And then there’s nothing, only the water spraying my back.
“Open your eyes,” he says, panting.
I open them immediately. He’s staring at me, conflicted.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. I would have thought he’d lost his desire to go through with whatever he had planned, but his erection is still pointing straight at me.
Without saying a word, he takes me by the waist and lifts my feet off the shower floor. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around him. We haven’t broken eye contact.
He’s shivering like he’s cold as he inserts himself in me. I whimper because it feels so good.
“Shush,” he pleads. “I want this to last.”
I nod, making sure I don’t make a sound. He doesn’t shift my hips or his. This is the strangest moment ever.
“What’s wrong?” I finally whisper.
“I want to be inside of you, that’s all.”
“Oh…”
“I think I’m going to lose you,” he confesses.
I flinch, taken aback, and as soon as I move, his body jerks and he grunts, letting loose inside of me.
“Shit.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on with me when it comes to you.”
“It’s okay.” I try to sound consoling. I unhook my legs to stand on my own two feet, but he lifts me higher, signaling me to put them back.
Belmont opens the shower door, carries me out, and walks us to the bed. He lays on top of me. “You’re on the pill?”
“Oh, now you ask.”
He plugs me once, twice, three times with his brand new, hardening erection. We grin at each other.
“Yes, I am,” I answer. “Although I never tested its potency to this extent. Heck, I hadn’t had sex in three months before you came along.”
He kisses me. “Happy I could oblige.”
I sniff, chuckling.
“We could do it you know.” His eyes are all alight.
However, my eyes widen in horror, knowing exactly where he’s going. “Do what?”
“Have a kid. You and me.”
I grunt and try to wiggle out from under him. He jabs me with his penis a few more times, and I end up holding on to him again.
“You don’t want to have children?” he asks after he’s regained control of me.
“Why are you asking me this when you’re inside of me injecting me with baby-making juice?”
He laughs out loud. “‘Baby-making juice.’ I never heard that before!”
“Well that’s what it is. And you know the pill isn’t a hundred percent, so we should be careful. Especially in six days.”
“What’s happening in six days?” There he goes prodding me with his penis again, sliding in and out of me slowly, indulgently.
“I think I ovulate.”
“So we have six days to fuck non-stop.”
“Stop it,” I say with a moan.
“Do you really want me to stop?”
There he goes, knowing exactly where he’s poking me.
“No, don’t stop doing that. Stop talking…” I whisper.
He stabs me in that spot and rotates his hips. I whimper as that sensation stirs inside of me.
It’s coming…
I try to grab the sheets, but they’re not strong enough. My hands clamp around his hilly biceps. That does something to him. His hips move faster, and he stabs me harder.
“Come for me, baby,” he coaxes me. “Feel it… Do you feel it?”
“Yes,” I screech.
“I can feel you tightening around me,” he says breathlessly as he continues his relentless attack on that spot. “You like this?” He reaches under to grab my butt, and he shoves me into him.
Suddenly I experience the explosion. It’s severe and saturates my entire nether region. Belmont doesn’t release the pressure until long after the feeling subsides.
I’m breathing heavily when I open my eyes. He stares at me, smiling and satisfied. As soon as I smile back, he shoves deeper inside of me, thrusting and thrusting until he lets go in his usual dramatic fashion.
Once he stills, he flips me around to lie on top of his chest. I close my eyes to listen to him breathe. I’m safe in his arms a
nd completely relaxed.
We lie like that for a while. My skin is drying, but his body is so strong and warm. He wraps his arms around me, still inside of me, and I melt like butter against his chest.
“Daisy!” Belmont’s body quickens. He rattles me out of the sleep I fell into. “It’s seven!”
We both hop out of bed. He rushes to call the restaurant to let Maya and Adrian know we’re on our way.
I get dressed, but there’s no time to be meticulous. However, I can never go wrong with my black-and-white, polka-dot, cap-sleeved Dior dress. Instead of twisting my hair into a tight bun like I usually do when I wear this dress, I fluff out my already puffy mane. It’s been duly noted that Belmont likes it this way. I slip my feet into a pair of red, ankle-strapped Sergio Rossi sandals.
“Whoa, you look like a million bucks,” Belmont says when he walks into the bedroom.
He once again takes me by surprise. He’s not big on announcing himself or knocking, and I’m shocked that it doesn’t bother me. I love seeing his big smile and bright hazel eyes. I’ll never stop loving the way he looks at me.
“Thanks to the consignment shops in the East and West Village,” I say, showing off the Dior.
“I like that about you,” he says, revealing the thought behind his admiring smile.
“What? That I chase down big-name labels in the consignment stores of Manhattan”—I dip my head to one side—“Paris, Milan. There are some really good ones in London too. Oh”—I lift a finger because I almost forgot—“and of course L.A. But the best ones are in New—”
I can’t finish the sentence because he draws me against his body. Note to self–he likes pulling me into him.
Almost ceremoniously, he puts his lips against mine. “Um, you smell good,” he whispers once our lips part.
“By the way,” I whisper, “you look really good too.”
He has on a camel-colored vest over a crisp white button-down shirt. His gray, pinstriped trousers fit him like they would a male runway model. I never noticed this until now but his legs are slight bowed. Goodness, he’s so sexy.
“Thank you.” He smiles.
“We fit.” I grin.
Find Her, Keep Her (A Martha's Vineyard Love Story) (Love in the USA) Page 9