Pretty Boy Problems

by Michele Grant

  I made a sound that was part animal, part human as I reared back and slammed into her with all that I had. “Sainte Mère de Dieu!” I called on Mary and any other divine being that could explain the wonder of this moment. I thrust with pure passion and very little finesse, driving toward completion.

  “Just like that. Just. Like. That!” Belle screamed and clutched me tighter.

  The fact that she was with me stroke for stroke took it to a whole other level. “Stay with me, bébé.” It wasn’t going to be pretty but it was epic in its goodness.

  “I’m with you, baby. I’m right here.” She began the shivers that preceded her race to ecstasy.

  Ah hell. That got me. I caught her lips in another searing kiss, and our tongues tangoed to the same rhythm of our hips. Faster and more frantic until I felt flammable. Finally, I ripped my lips from hers and seated myself as deeply as I could inside her addictive heat. “Belle!” Her name flew from my lips as I let the explosion hit me. And at that crucial moment, I had one crystal clear and terrifying thought: I was home.

  Without a single clue what to do with that thought, I rolled off of Belle and pressed a kiss to her forehead. I wrapped the condom in a Kleenex and discarded it in the trashcan next to the bed.

  “Can we go again in a minute?” she murmured. “I’ve been deprived, you know.”

  My lips curved up. This was familiar and comfortable territory. “You seemed to be making up for lost time.”

  “What can I say? You’re like a potato chip.”

  I squinted at her. That did not sound flattering. “Ah . . . in what way, exactly?”

  “You’re instantly addictive. Once you have a taste, you want the whole bag. You know the catch phrase—bet you can’t have just one.”

  “At last count, you had three, chérie.”

  “Impolite, sugar,” she tsked.

  “Apologies.”

  “So that’s a no?” she said, sliding her hand down my torso.

  By the time her hand brushed against me, I was stirring back to life. “Have I ever refused you anything?”

  “Well, you did make me play by your rules.” She looked up at me through her lashes.

  I pulled her on top of me and slid a finger across her buttocks. “You loved it. You like a little kink in your potato chip.” I smacked her ass lightly and she shivered.

  “You see too much,” she muttered as she started to squirm against me again.

  “Ditto. First cotton candy, now potato chips. Let’s see what other tasty treat I can bring to mind.” I slid my hand around to cup her. “Hmm, I’m thinking something with honey.”

  17

  We All Make Our Own Choices

  Belle—Sunday, May 8, 3:12 PM

  I glanced at my watch and tried not to make the c’mon-with-it-already motion to my father. He was staying in a small house in Alpharetta we’d rented for him. All of his belongings from Valdosta had been shipped, unpacked, and set to his exact specifications around the three-bedroom, two-bath ranch house. My mother’s picture hung over the fireplace in the living room. Percy Richards sat in navy blue lounging pajamas Beau had bought for him, with his feet propped up on a faded tan ottoman I remembered from my childhood.

  The doctors were ecstatic about his progress, but I’d hired a home healthcare worker who was not only a registered nurse but a chef as well. Nina was a sturdy, no-nonsense woman in her early fifties who won all of us over immediately with her straightforward attitude. The full breakfast of grits, eggs, and ham hadn’t hurt either. When she slapped a bowl of thin Cream of Wheat in front of my father with a look that said not to try her, I knew she was the perfect person for the job.

  Beau and I had a plane to catch in less than an hour. My father had asked to speak to me alone and sent everyone else out of the room. That was three minutes ago. Since then he sat, staring at the picture of my mother.

  With a deep breath, he finally started to speak, and his first words shocked the hell out of me. “Delaney Mirabella, I know you think I put your mother in her premature grave.”

  Whoa! I had no answer to that one. I did think it, but one didn’t say such a thing out loud. So I sat silently.

  “But I want you to know that your mother knew she had a heart condition. She lived her life exactly how she wanted. I never asked that woman to bear five children, work two jobs, and fetch for me like she did. That’s what made her happy, Baby Girl.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “She told me. And she left a letter. I want you to read it. I want you to understand.” His voice shook as he spoke.

  “Daddy, you’re not supposed to get upset. It’s fine. It’s okay. I understand.”

  He slapped his hand down on the side of his lounge chair. “No, you don’t! And you need to before it’s too late.”

  “Don’t say things like that!” Was he not feeling well? Was there a chance he wouldn’t recover?

  “Not too late for me, too late for you!” He was adamant.

  “What do you mean?” I was thoroughly confused.

  “When your mama died, a part of me shut down. It was like a lot of the color just seeped out of my life. I didn’t feel the joy. I did the basics to raise your sisters and brothers, and I let them lean on you for the rest.”

  I let out a breath. “It all turned out all right.” Now that he acknowledged it, I was willing to let the whole thing go.

  “No, let me finish. From the day you were born, your mother and I knew you were special. At the age of four, you had me drive you to the city limits of Valdosta and you pointed and asked, ‘What else is out there, Daddy?’ I knew then that you were destined for more than I could offer. At the heart of it all, I’m just a good old country boy. I’m ashamed to say it hurt me some to see you so happy away from home. And then after you started making more money in a month than I made all year, I didn’t know what to do with you.”

  “Oh.” I never thought of it from his side before.

  “Then, after I lost your mother, I had no idea how to be a father to you. I didn’t think I could guide you or teach you nothing. You were always speeding so fast in the other direction. But I was always proud of you, Baby Girl. You done real good by all of us.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “Mirabella, you have your mother’s heart and my stubborn pride.”

  “Well now—” I wasn’t sure I agreed with that assessment.

  “It’s true girl, just own it. But don’t let that pride block your blessings.”

  He lost me again. “Which blessings are those?”

  “That pretty Cajun boy who can’t take his eyes off of you.”

  “Now Daddy, we’re just . . .” I cast around for the right word to use with my father. “Fooling around a little bit. It’s nothing serious.”

  “No?”

  “No. Beau doesn’t do serious, and I don’t want serious right now.”

  “Well, I don’t know who’s lying to who but somebody sho’nuff lying,” he cackled.

  “Beau is kind of a player, Daddy. He’s not in love with me.”

  “Baby, every man’s a player until he meets his other half. And that boy looks at you like you’re his other half. Don’t count him out and don’t sell yourself short.”

  “Yes, Daddy.” At this point, whatever it took to cut the conversation short.

  “That’s the tone you use when you just want your old man to shut up and change the subject. Listen good now. We all make our own choices, Dela-Bella. Your mother chose to live the time she had as she saw fit. She lived full out, no regrets. Will you be able to say the same?”

  That was food for thought. I’d been so busy hustling, I hadn’t stopped to reflect on the journey. “I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

  “Well think about that. You’ve been a success in every area of your life except your personal one. I don’t know if our stuff has held you back or you miss a mama to talk to about it. But either way, we’ve both learned that life is s
hort and tomorrow ain’t promised. You take what that boy offers with both hands, hear?”

  Damn he was on a roll today. “I hear you, Daddy.”

  “Think on it, Baby Girl.”

  “I guess I have to.” He hadn’t left me much choice.

  He reached beside his chair and pulled out a flat, square box. “Tuck this away and look at it in a few weeks.”

  I got up and walked over to retrieve it. “A few weeks?”

  “Weeks, months, whenever you feel you are ready. Wait until after all of this has settled down and marinated a little bit.”

  “Okay.” I tucked the box into my tote bag.

  “Now, call everybody back in so we can let you and your young man get on up outta here. And Delaney?”

  “Yes?” I paused on my way to get the others.

  “I love you, Baby Girl. Don’t ever doubt it.”

  I knelt down to hug him tight, and he kissed my cheek.

  “Wipe those tears; you’re too pretty to cry.”

  I wiped my eyes with a laugh. He’d been telling me that for as long as I could remember.

  “Though I liked your hair longer, Baby Girl.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “But once you start having those bayou babies, you won’t have time to keep yourself looking so perfect all the time.”

  “Now there’s the Percy Richards I know.”

  “Yeah, I said it.” He grinned mischievously.

  I kissed his cheek and brushed his hair back. “I love you too, Daddy.”

  “Of course you do. C’mon now, you don’t want to miss your plane.”

  I called everyone back into the room and the round robin of good-byes started.

  Thirty minutes later, Beau and I were striding across the tarmac toward the jet.

  “You do realize this is ridiculously extravagant, right?” I looked over at Beau through my dark sunglasses. It was a bright, sunny, and hot day in Atlanta, Georgia.

  He shrugged in typical Beau fashion. “I figured we’d leave the way we came. Besides, I had to pay for the round-trip when I booked it. It would have been a waste to pay to fly commercial at this point.”

  “Well, when you put it that way.” I flashed him a grin and trotted up the stairs. Now that I wasn’t scared and tired and stressed and pissed off at Beau, I could appreciate the luxury of the jet. It sat ten people comfortably, more if you weren’t concerned about the safety of those on the sofa.

  There was a small galley with seating for the staff near the cockpit in the front. There was a sleeping cabin at the back along with the bathroom. I slipped into one of the chairs that folded down into a sleeping pod in the middle of the plane. The crew closed the plane door and the air conditioning came on. I got comfortable and watched Beau talking with the pilot.

  He was wearing black cargo pants and a plum-colored fitted tee. The pants hung low on his slim hips, the tee stretched across his broad chest. Beau was the kind of fine that was undeniable. Match that with his features, tight cropped hair, and lethal who-me? smile—I don’t know how anyone could resist him. On top of that, damned if he wasn’t a far more decent guy than I’d given him credit for being.

  Trailing my eyes along his tall frame, I all but licked my lips. Now that I knew what it was like to have him inside me, his eyes turning from gold to antique bronze as he stroked every inch of my body inside and out...I wasn’t sure I could pull back from him . . . even if I wanted to.

  I had hardly been a nun before I met Beau, but I could say in all honesty that no man had ever taken me to the heights of passion I scaled with him. It was almost embarrassing the way he could bend me to his will and make me want him again and again. I could completely let go with him. Thankfully, he seemed to be equally drawn to me. I didn’t know if this would burn itself out or turn ugly, and God knew with the close way we worked together, the whole thing had the potential to get messy.

  Even without my father’s words ringing in my ears, I wasn’t prepared to settle for a professional-only relationship with Beau. I wondered if everyone in the office would know just from looking at us that we were together. The energy around us was palpable. My siblings had teased me about it all week long. If the snap, crackle, and pop between us didn’t give the relationship away, the way I couldn’t stop eating him up with my eyes probably did.

  My eyes returned to him as if pulled by magnets. I felt myself heating up just looking at him and knowing what he was capable of. He nodded at something Samantha, the smiling flight attendant, said before sensing my eyes on him. He shifted and caught the expression on my face. I watched as a tension came across him. His stance widened slightly, his jaw firmed, his nostrils flared, and his eyes went laser hot. He murmured something to the pilot and the flight attendant, and they turned and disappeared into the front of the craft, pulling the partition closed behind them.

  He advanced toward me, a decidedly predatory aura about him. “You’re gonna get what you’re asking for, Baby Girl. You’re gonna get it good.”

  Coming from anyone else, that would have sounded ridiculous. But hearing it from Beau when I already knew he could back it up? Well, that just made me hot.

  He slid into the seat next to mine and examined me from head to toe. I was in a teal blue short-sleeve wrap dress with a ruffle around the neck and hem with peach wedge slingbacks and a peep-toe on my feet. I crossed one thigh over the other as his eyes ran down the length of my legs.

  He crooked a finger at me, and I leaned in. He put his lips next to my ear. “You’re wet already, aren’t you?”

  I shook my head to deny the truth. Who admitted that kind of thing?

  “Tell me, or I’ll reach down there with two fingers and find out for myself.”

  I shivered. Part of me wanted him to and part of me was scandalized at the mere thought of it. That gray curtain wasn’t exactly a privacy screen.

  “Belle?” His hand was on my thigh and sliding upward.

  I put my hand over his to stop him. “Beau, there are other people on this plane.”

  “They’re paid well for their discretion. Besides . . .” His hand slid higher and higher, hovering over the juncture of my thighs.

  I bit my lip between my teeth and debated whether to part my thighs or not. I was entirely too easy when it came to one Beauregard Montgomery. “Besides?”

  “The thought that they might catch a peek or hear you cry out has got you boiling.”

  With a deep breath, I uncrossed my thighs. Two long fingers he promised slipped under my panties to stroke the swollen and ready flesh there. We both groaned at the contact.

  “You’re dripping with it.” He rimmed the opening before pressing once against the bud that was already hard and throbbing underneath his touch.

  “I know, I can’t help it,” I murmured, keeping an eye on the curtain.

  “I don’t want you to. I love how hot you get for me. This is for me, right?” He scissored my button between his fingers in a fast staccato that took me to the edge in no time flat.

  “It’s for you.”

  “Only me.”

  I’d deal with this new possessive streak later. For now, I wanted what he could give me. “Only you.”

  “Are you ready to come all over my fingers?”

  I really was. I nodded.

  “I can’t hear you, Belle.”

  “Yesss . . .”

  He fluttered his fingers along my slit before thrusting both fingers inside me. The shock of it sent me over the edge. His mouth clamped over mine to muffle my scream. I shamelessly rode his hand as the delicious rapture sent me soaring.

  My head fell back against the seat. “You make me forget myself.”

  He removed his fingers from me and began to lick them clean. Damn if the sight of that didn’t get me worked up all over again. He sent me a look that said he knew what he was doing to me. “We’ll finish this after take-off.”

  As if on cue, Samantha came out and asked us to buckle up. She promised to return after take-off with
beverages. To her credit, she acted as though she didn’t notice Beau was hard as a rock, I was squirming in my seat, and the air was scented with sex.

  I straightened up and buckled the seatbelt. “I can’t decide if you’re heaven-sent or the devil incarnate.”

  He sniffed his fingers and smiled at me. “Probably somewhere in between, chérie.”

  Only time would tell.

  18

  What Are We Arguing About?

  Beau—Monday, May 9, 6:47 AM

  “You’re almost there, aren’t you?” I groaned into her ear. She was bent at the waist grasping at the vanity while I stood behind her, pistoning into her silky depths. I had stepped out of her shower to find her standing nude bent over the sink washing her face. That’s all it took to get us from there to here.

  “Yes. Don’t stop. Don’t stop!”

  “Look at us.” I pointed.

  She raised her head and stared into the mirror. We were surrounded by the fog from the shower, making our reflection look surreal as we moved together. I placed the heel of my hand against her and ground down in a circle once and then twice.

  On a long, low moan, she came around me, triggering my own climax. Our eyes stayed locked on each other as we rode out the sensation. There was that strange intimacy again. Beyond the physical and into a place that gave me pause. I didn’t have time to pause this morning. Discarding the condom, I reached for a washcloth.

  She cleaned up, splashed water on her face, and started applying makeup. “So being naked in front of you is just an invitation for kick-starting the good ’n plenty.”

  “Apparently, that’s all it takes. Keep some drawers on about yourself,” I teased.

  “I’ll remember that.”

  “And don’t give me the ‘do me baby’ look when we have other places to be.”

  “So noted.”

  “Or wear those sandals that wrap around the ankle.”

  She shimmied into underwear and looked at me over her shoulder. “Doesn’t take much to rev your engine, huh?”

  “You’re a fine one to talk, chérie. Who was all ‘Beau stay with me’ last night?”