by A. C. Arthur
She didn’t turn but stopped walking, waiting for the inevitable touch.
The moment his hands rested on her shoulders, Karena melted against him. It felt so right, was so easy, to let him hold her. Moving his hands down her bare arms, he embraced her.
“What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?” he whispered against her ear because the sound of the rushing waves was louder down here on the beach than it had been from the balcony of her room.
“I need to think.”
“I know what you mean. Eduardo gave us a lot to think about. Sometimes you can get so caught up in your own life, your own problems, that you forget that somebody else might be doing a lot worse than you.”
“I want to help him.”
“I figured as much. What are you going to do? Refer him to the Lakefield Foundation?”
“I was thinking of referring him to my mother,” she said, for the first time voicing the thoughts she’d been having for hours.
Sam was quiet for a minute, and she was almost sure he was thinking of a way to put the words he wanted to say.
“Don’t set yourself up for disappointment,” he finally managed.
Karena sighed. “I just want so much more for her.”
“She has to want more for herself, baby. You can’t give her a life that’s not right for her.”
“I know,” Karena reluctantly admitted. “I’m going to suggest it and let her take it from there.”
“Good girl,” he said, and she could hear he was smiling.
“You say that as if I’ve done something to please you.”
He was holding her tighter and Karena loved the feeling. His breath whispered over the sensitive skin of her neck each time he spoke, and she could feel her nipples tightening.
“You always please me, Karena. Except when you’re being hardheaded.”
At that she gave a little chuckle. “Let’s not talk about the latter right now,” she said, slowly turning in his embrace. “I’d rather hear more about how I can please you.”
It was risky, she knew, but she wanted him. No, tonight she needed him.
“I’m a simple man, remember, who likes simple things.” His voice had turned deeper, his fingers running through her short hair until his hands were cupping the back of her head.
Around them a warm breeze blew, the evening tide washed up against the shore, crashing loudly against the sand. The spot where they were standing was pretty secluded, not to mention dark since it was well after midnight. But none of that mattered.
Karena let her eyes flutter shut as Sam’s lips touched her forehead. The thin material of the cover-up she’d slipped over her night shorts and sports bra clung to her skin as her body heated.
Dropping featherlight kisses all over her face, Sam whispered her name repeatedly, until her mind was completely full of him.
Bringing her palms to his chest, Karena leaned forward, kissing his hard pectoral muscles through the white undershirt he wore tucked into dark basketball shorts. He sucked in a breath as she moved over slightly, taking his small nipple into her mouth. His hand tightened at the back of her neck and Karena’s heart thumped with desire.
To say she wanted him, needed him, was definitely an understatement. They were miles and miles away from home, away from her family and the pressure she felt she was under. They were on a beautiful beach in South America, just the two of them. She felt like the famous saying, “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” Only they weren’t in Vegas, there were no bright lights and cha-chinging slot machines.
There was only her and Sam.
Slipping her hands down his sides, she lifted the shirt up and over his head then flattened her tongue over the ridges of his chest once more. He stood perfectly still, letting her have her way. The power of lust ripped through her with ferocity similar to the waves of water just a few feet away.
Emboldened by that power, Karena kissed lower until her tongue slipped into the indentation of his navel.
“Baby,” he whispered, his voice dying slowly as she used both hands to slide his shorts down his muscled legs.
The salty seawater scent of the Atlantic Ocean wafted through the air as Karena’s lips grazed his lower stomach. Her small hands had returned to his hips, moved around to cup his taut buttocks. Again his hands were cupping her head, holding her still.
“I’m a simple man, baby,” he said hoarsely.
She looked up at him, saw the mere slits his eyes had become, the ragged in-and-out movement of his chest, the tiny muscle ticking in his jaw.
“And I simply want to please you,” she whispered, licking her lips only seconds before lowering her head to lick the tip of his aroused penis.
His fingers flexed, released her head then rested on her shoulders. She shifted again, anchoring her knees in the sand, keeping one hand on his buttocks but moving the other to wrap around the base of his length. Using only perception to guide her, she lowered her head once more, positioning her mouth over him before using her tongue to lick the underside.
The muscles in his buttocks clenched as he moaned. She opened her mouth wider, took him in slowly, all the while using her tongue to massage his pulsating member.
It was intoxicating, this power mixed with the musky, all-male taste of him. It was more than she’d ever experienced in her life. Emotions swirled through her in a tidal wave as she continuously worked her lips over him. He was gasping for breath, digging his fingers into her shoulders as he stood at her mercy.
She didn’t just want him or need him. It was deeper than that, and at this very moment she knew it, felt it and let the fear mix with the interminable pleasure inside.
When he pulled away from her and pushed her back onto the sand, Karena was breathless. Bending over her, it took him less than five seconds to rip the cover-up away and pull her shorts down. The moment the material was free from her ankles, he was lifting her legs, anchoring them on each of his shoulders and driving his penis, still damp from her ministrations, into her center.
She gasped at the force of entry, digging her nails into his biceps. His hips moved with quick, deathly precision as he thrust deeply inside of her before pulling almost all the way out and repeating the action again.
He was filling her, taking her in measured steps, but with enough force that she knew it was serious. This wasn’t just sex, it had surpassed that level long ago. Tears stung the backs of her eyes, even as she reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer.
It seemed like forever that he thrust inside of her, then suddenly not long enough when her body shivered, her release covering him only moments before he joined her.
Seconds ticked by as they lay on the beach, sand rubbing against her back while the weight of Sam’s body cocooned her front.
She was quiet, her heart just settling to a normal rhythm when he lifted a bit, cupped her face in his hands and said in the words of such a simple man, “I love you, Karena.”
Chapter 23
He hadn’t said the words once in the next two days they were in Pirata.
Did she want him to?
Hell no! That’s why she kept moving through their outings and lovemaking as if nothing were missing. Because nothing was.
The words weren’t needed. Weren’t wanted.
Besides, they were like a broken record with the needle permanently stuck repeating them over and over again in her mind. If Sam had actually said them again, she probably would have screamed.
Yet Karena would be a fool not to admit that the time spent with Sam was more than wonderful, more than anything she’d ever expected with a man. But Sam was perfect. She already knew and accepted that.
So why was she sitting on the plane beside him wondering how to approach the subject of their relationship—the rules of their relationship?
In a little under an hour they’d be landing on a private airstrip just north of LaGuardia. He would probably want to share a car to her apartment then head on to his house
in Connecticut.
The house she’d dreamed about last night.
It was silly, she knew, and she whispered the same to herself as she’d crept out of the bed she and Sam were sharing to go into the bathroom and splash water onto her face. It was just a house, a building built on a wonderful piece of land. It wasn’t the answer to all her hopes and dreams, the ones she kept tucked deep in the recesses of her mind. It wasn’t her salvation.
To top all that off, it wasn’t hers. She owned her condo overlooking Central Park. She loved the walks she took through the park and sometimes even farther to work. The city was refreshing and energizing, it was where she wanted, no, needed to be. Why? Because it was her choice.
“What are you over there thinking so hard about?”
She actually jumped at the sound of his voice, feeling as if he’d been eavesdropping on her private thoughts. Giving herself a shake for silliness, she mustered a smile and looked over at him. “Nothing.”
His brows raised and she sighed. He always knew. Well, no time like the present.
She cleared her throat. “Okay, I was thinking about us.”
At that he smiled and reached for her hand, entwining their fingers as if they were juveniles walking down the street. “Good thoughts, I hope.”
She nodded. “Yes. I think they’re good.” He lifted her hand, kissed the back of it and continued to smile at her. Oh, boy, this was a little harder than she’d anticipated.
“So, were you thinking of all the wonderfully sinful things you’d like to do to my body when we get home?”
He sucked one fingertip into his mouth and she felt a shiver of warmth etch down her spine. “Ah, no, not exactly.”
“Hmm, then maybe you’re thinking of all the wonderfully sinful things you want me to do to your body when we get home?”
Home. Why did he keep saying that?
“I was thinking that we could maybe see each other for dinner once during the week and then rotate spending weekends together,” she said in a rushed voice before his touch made her forget everything but her name.
Sam paused instantly, the finger that was in his mouth slipping out slowly. His hand placed hers gently on the arm of the seat as he sat back eyeing her closely.
“Are those your terms?” he asked solemnly.
“I wouldn’t make it sound as serious as ‘terms.’ I just thought it would be good to set aside enough time so we could be together. Isn’t that what you want?”
He was nodding, but Karena had the sinking suspicion he wasn’t agreeing with her.
“So what’s this, like, the negotiation stage? You suggest a schedule, then I suggest one and we meet somewhere in the middle? Sort of a relationship mediation.”
“I’m not liking your sarcasm, Sam.”
“Good, because I’m not liking your idiotic suggestion.”
“Don’t call me names!”
“Don’t change the subject. You know damned well I’m not calling you names. I’m telling you that what you’re suggesting is crazy. When two people decide to pursue a relationship they just do it, they don’t pencil each other in the BlackBerry. That’s not how it works.”
“Well, Mr. Relationship Master, tell me how it does work. Or better yet, tell me again why it didn’t work between you and Leeza.”
He looked incredulous. “What? Why are you even bringing her up? I told you about Leeza when we were in Maryland two months ago.”
“Yes. You did. You told me how you met her, thought she was the one, proposed and then had a change of heart because she wanted to manipulate you, change you into the man she wanted you to be.”
“And how does this relate to us?”
“What do you want from ‘us,’ Sam? What do you foresee happening with us?”
He dragged a hand down his face as if he were growing tired of this conversation. Well, she didn’t care. They were going to get this over with. She had limitations, whether Sam Desdune liked them or not, and he could either deal with them or he couldn’t. Better she find out now before her own feelings grew too out of control.
“I love you, Karena. Love to me means forever. So having dinner with you once a week and alternate weekends just isn’t enough. I want to see you every day, hear your voice when I close my eyes at night to go to sleep, see your face when I wake each morning to face the day. I want it all.”
And although her heart hammered in her chest and her head throbbed as if someone was using it for a bongo, this was exactly what she was afraid of.
“I want you to move in with me. I think the house away from the city would be good for you, good for your stress level. I want to take care of you, to love you.”
“When did you ask me what I wanted?”
“Excuse me?”
“When…did…you stop planning your little fairy tale to find out what I wanted? Because I would think that should matter, since I’d be the one uprooting and changing my entire life. I’d be the one bending to your will.”
Why did she do this? Why was she twisting everything he said to make it seem wrong?
“I thought we had a great time together these past few days.”
“We did,” she said, sighing. “And we did when I was at your place. Look, Sam, I know there’s something between us. I accept that and I’m willing to take the chance to see where it goes. But I can’t just jump blindly, giving you everything without considering what’s best for me.”
“You don’t think having a place to come home to after leaving the gallery, a place that will let you completely relax—you don’t think that’s best for you?”
“I can relax at my place.”
“But you don’t. You work and you take your sister’s calls and you work some more. You don’t relax and you don’t make time for yourself.”
“So now the suggestion is to move to your place and cut off my family? You’re out of your mind. I’d never ask that of you.”
“And I’m not asking it of you. I’m telling you that you need to learn to live for you, to make decisions that will be best for you.”
“That’s what I’m doing.”
He knew it had been coming, it always did. Sam Desdune had a breaking point. He had a line that once was crossed, there was no coming back from. Karena had just stepped one foot over it.
There was the telltale drop, slight shake of the plane and then definite touchdown of the wheels hitting asphalt. They’d landed. And they’d ended.
“I won’t lie to you, Karena. This is not how I work. I’m a marriage-and-family kind of guy. I thought we were on the same wavelength there. I guess I was wrong.”
“You know how I feel about marriage, about giving up everything that I am for a man.”
“Not a man, Karena. Your man. Your husband. And it’s not about giving up everything that you are, but about entering into a relationship that will make you both as one. I would never ask you to give up who you are for me. But I won’t sacrifice what I need, either.”
She’d been in the process of unsnapping her seat belt when her head shot up and she glared at him. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you have a choice, you can step out of that box you’ve created for yourself using your mother and her decisions as a crutch, or you can act like the independent, sophisticated woman I fell in love with and take a chance on me, on love, on yourself.” Then he shrugged. “It’s that simple.”
Karena stood slowly, being careful to take deep breaths, hoping to calm the fierce anger growing inside her. “Is that an ultimatum?”
Sam stood, walked to her and let his finger trace the line of her jaw. “It’s my final offer.”
Chapter 24
A week later Karena sat in her office going through her mail. Halloween was last week, and she’d spent the evening alone in her condo with art catalogs spread out around her, a cup of flat soda since she’d let the ice cubes melt in it and a headache that just would not quit.
Today she felt a little better, just a little. She was mov
ing robotically but refused to believe it had anything to do with the last words she and Sam had shared. She hadn’t spoken to him since they’d both climbed out of the jet. He’d let her get into the waiting car and called himself a taxi. She wanted desperately to argue how stupid that was and that they could share, but she really didn’t think that was possible.
How dare he give her an ultimatum and then expect her to answer at the raise of his eyebrows. He’d taken the word arrogant to another level, one on which she was not about to go with him.
If that’s how he was used to dealing with women, then she didn’t need to be in that group. The decision to let him in even marginally was hard enough to make. She knew it would be a big mistake to give in to his ultimatum and give him the impression that he’d always win that way with her.
Hell no, that just wasn’t the life she predicted for herself.
Still, it had her wondering what exactly her future held.
With a sigh, she opened the next envelope and read the ecru-and-brown-embossed invitation with a feeling of warmth spreading through her.
In the spirit of peace and joy this holiday season Mr. and Mrs. Reginald St. Claire request the honor of your presence at the marriage of their daughter Tia Marisal to Trenton Desmond Donovan on the twenty-fourth of December at six o’clock in the afternoon Mt. Charleston Resort Las Vegas, Nevada
They were getting married. Another couple was making the ultimate commitment to each other. All she could do for the next few minutes was stare at the invitation. Inside the envelope amongst the thin slip of paper and a card with all the information pertaining to the resort and making reservations, was a response card.
At first she’d thought it a no-brainer. Of course she would go. The Donovans had come to be like extended family to her through Noelle. In fact, they were Noelle’s family, and since Noelle was her best friend, she should have been rushing to fill out the card and put it back in the mail. But she wasn’t.