Southern Seduction ; Pleasure in His Arms

by Carolyn Hector

  “With pleasure.” Demi pressed her hands flat on the raised, white cabinet, and thrust her bottom into his crotch.

  “Good girl.” Chase undid her bra, tossed it to the ground, and yanked off her panties, stroking her skin as his hands moved down her hips.

  Demi craved him, could almost feel his erection between her legs, turning her out, and was desperate to make love to him. “I’m waiting,” she trilled in a singsong voice.

  Watching him undress, she moaned. His shaft was long and thick, standing tall, ready to please. Chase positioned his erection between her legs and slid it across her clit until she was throbbing and wet. He thrust it inside her, and Demi cried out. Shouted his name. Tossing her head back, she arched her back and closed her eyes, sealing her in the moment. He knew exactly what to say and do to please her, and she responded eagerly to his touch. She kissed him hard on the mouth, reached around to squeeze his ass and opened her legs wider, inviting him deeper still. Her desire grew, rose to dangerous heights.

  Filled with a sudden burst of energy, Demi turned around and hopped onto the cabinet. She draped her hands around his neck, pulling him on top of her. Demi kissed him hard on the mouth. Licked and teased and sucked his tongue. Chase moved inside her, thrusting and swiveling his hips. Clamping her legs around his waist, she enjoyed the thrill of his lovemaking, his fervor. Demi couldn’t stop herself from moaning and cursing and begged for more. Their lovemaking was fast and furious, as passionate as long-lost lovers who’d reunited after decades apart, and Demi relished every minute of it. His groans intensified, filled every inch of the room. They were in the groove, moving as one, pleasing each other with every kiss and caress. Being with Chase was like having her favorite dessert every day, and there was nothing better than being in his arms.

  Chase picked her up, carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed. Hiking her legs in the air, he placed soft kisses against her inner thigh. He eased his erection inside her, one mind-blowing inch at a time. Reaching for him, she stroked his neck and shoulders, and rubbed his dark, erect nipples with her thumbs.

  “Demi, you’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else,” he confessed. “You’re everything I want in a woman, and more, and I’m absolutely crazy about you...”

  His words made her feel desirable and she basked in his praise and affection. Pleasure rained down on her, stealing her breath, and seconds passed before Demi could speak. His touch electrified her and her body came alive as he caressed her skin. The spontaneity and variety of their lovemaking thrilled her, was exactly what she craved. “You’re incredible, Chase, and I can’t get enough of you.”

  “Baby, I feel the same way. We’re magic together and I want to spend all my days and nights with you.”

  Overcome with emotion, Demi blinked back tears. Her skin was drenched in sweat, and her throat was bone-dry, but she’d never been happier. She was making love to Chase, experiencing the pleasure of his touch, and there was no greater joy.

  His eyes bore into her and shivers rocked her spine. He kissed her, ravishing her lips with his mouth, and passion ignited inside her. Melting and exploding at the same time, Demi shook uncontrollably. Her orgasm consumed every inch of her body and, as she collapsed onto the pillows, Chase climaxed. He growled in her ear, causing Demi to giggle. Typical Chase. He wasn’t happy unless he was teasing her, but Demi loved his playfulness. Knew their joking and goofing around strengthened their connection, and nothing mattered more to Demi than their rock-solid bond.

  “Chase, please tell me you turned off the stove before coming in here to seduce me,” she said, resting her head on his chest. “I don’t want to be homeless because you burned down my kitchen.”

  “That would never happen. You’d move in with me and we’d live happily ever after.”

  Demi pinched his butt and Chase yelped.

  “I’m serious—”

  “So am I. And to answer your question, yes, I turned off the stove and our dinner is in the oven.” Staring deep into her eyes, he brushed a lock of hair away from her face. “Demi, this has never been a fake relationship to me. It’s always been the real thing.”

  “It has?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  “Yeah, from day one. I went along with the publicity stunt because I knew it was what you wanted, but in my eyes you’ve always been my girl, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Her heart stopped and Demi thought she’d die of happiness. For the first time in her life, she had a loving, supportive boyfriend who cared about her wholeheartedly and, for as long as Demi lived, she’d never forget how special Chase made her feel in that moment. Kissing him passionately on the lips, she rolled on top of him and positioned herself on his lap.

  “What are you doing? I figured we’d get dressed and go downstairs to have dinner,” he said, an amused expression on his face. “Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Yeah, but not for food. You’re leaving for London in the morning, so we have to make the most of tonight. Now assume the position or else.”

  Chase erupted in laughter. “Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”

  “No,” she countered, dropping her gaze to his stiff erection and slowly licking her lips. “I’m about to make you the happiest man alive, and when I’m done you’ll be singing my praises!”

  Cupping her face in his hands, he brushed his nose against hers and said, “Baby, I always do.”

  Chapter 18

  Maidstone Club attracted New York’s most prominent families, and as Demi entered the centuries-old building on Sunday afternoon with Geneviève and her girlfriends at her side, she resisted the urge to dance through the doors. Giddy with excitement, she admired her chic surroundings. Set high on a hill, the country club was filled with dark, gleaming wood, antique furniture and tall windows offering striking views of the Atlantic Ocean. Everyone from billionaires to former presidents frequented the establishment and Demi spotted several famous faces as she strode through the club with a bounce in her step.

  “Welcome to the Maidstone Club, Ms. Harris,” greeted the slender British woman with red eyeglasses and a feathered hat. “The Hamptons Women’s Society is honored to have you with us and we’re excited to hear you speak.”

  Demi recalled meeting the president last year at a networking event and smiled as she shook her hand. “Thanks for having me, Ms. Wright. I’m thrilled to be here.”

  Entering the grand ballroom moments later, Demi’s mouth watered at the delicious aromas in the air. The wait staff served refreshments, women in extravagant hats and designer dresses sashayed around on high heels, and a pianist played beautiful music. All across the room, people socialized, hugged and posed for pictures.

  Eager to join the fun, Demi smoothed her hands down her hips. The canary-yellow fit-and-flare dress was a gift from her mom, and she loved how it skimmed her curves.

  Demi socialized with attendees, snapped selfies and uploaded them to her social media. Within seconds Chase commented on her photographs, calling her a ravishing beauty, and her heart swelled with emotion. He’d returned from London two hours earlier and had called her from the Crawford family plane. Hearing his voice had given her a rush. He’d wished her luck, told her to wow everyone at the tea, and insisted on taking her out for a celebratory dinner that evening. Demi couldn’t wait for their eight o’clock date. While Chase was in London they’d video-chatted daily, but it wasn’t the same as seeing him face-to-face and Demi was counting down the minutes until she was back in his arms.

  A hush fell over the room and attendees hurried to their seats. The music faded and an Asian woman in a teal fascinator appeared at the podium. She greeted the crowd then spoke with pride about the history of the fifty-year-old organization. Standing beside the display table, whispering with, Gigi, Demi’s gaze panned the crowd. She didn’t see Mrs. Crawford anywhere and wondered if Chase’s mom had changed her mind about attending t
he event.

  “Ms. Harris, it’s time,” said the president. “Are you ready to deliver your speech?”

  Demi flashed a thumbs-up. “I was born ready. Let’s do this, Ms. Wright!”

  “I love your enthusiasm.” Ms. Wright patted Demi’s hand then gave it a firm squeeze. “I must admit, Ms. Harris, when the planning committee brought forth your name as the possible guest speaker, I was very apprehensive, but now that I’ve spent some time getting to know you, I can see that we made a fine choice. You are truly a delight, Ms. Harris.”

  “So are you, Ms. Wright, and I look forward to attending more events in the future.”

  “I would love that. You’re just the kind of woman this association needs.”

  The president escorted her to the front of the room. Demi stood to the left of the stage, listened to the emcee read her biography and took a deep, calming breath. She heard Chase’s voice in her ears, reminding her that she was smart, capable and talented, and stamped down the butterflies in her stomach. Adjusting her wide-brimmed hat, she noticed her girlfriends waving wildly and blowing kisses at her, and laughed at their antics.

  “It’s my pleasure to introduce to you, beauty and lifestyle expert, Demi Harris!”

  The applause was deafening. Her legs wobbled as if she was walking on stilts, but Demi climbed the stairs, hugged the emcee and took her place behind the glass podium. “It’s an honor to be here,” she began, ignoring the quaver in her voice. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m the fun, boisterous girl from North Philly who turned her passion for fashion, dating and YouTube into a lucrative career.”

  Whistles pierced the air, drawing everyone’s attention to the back of the room and Demi hoped her girlfriends hadn’t spiked their tea with whiskey. I can’t take these heifers anywhere!

  “The motto of the Hamptons Women’s Society is simple—One Mind. One Purpose. One Mission. ‘Helping one woman at a time.’ Those are words I hold close to my heart,” she continued. “Everything I learned about kindness and compassion, I learned from my mother, Althea Harris. She was a single mom with two daughters to feed, but she was generous with her time and money and taught me that nothing matters more than helping someone in need...”

  People nodded their heads and leaned forward in their seats as she spoke. Realizing she had the audience in the palm of her hand, she spoke with confidence and conviction. Demi only wished her mom was there to hear her speech, but she remembered Esmerelda was recording it with her iPhone and was going to share the footage. Speaking from the heart, Demi implored every woman in the room to make a difference in her community, her city and the world. “Thank you for being such a great audience, and for welcoming me into your organization with open arms. Until next time, friends, be kind, be generous and stay fabulous!”

  A black woman in an ivory pantsuit surged to her feet, cheering at the top of her lungs. An oversize feather hat covered the top half of the woman’s face, but Demi would recognize her anywhere. Beaming, she descended the stairs and marched purposely toward table twenty-eight. “Mom, you made it! I’m so glad to see you.”

  “I wouldn’t miss your speech for anything in the world.”

  They embraced and Demi held her tight, not wanting to let her mom go. Althea smelled of peppermint and perfume and her warm hug made Demi feel loved. In spite of their differences, she adored her mom and wanted them to have a healthy, loving relationship.

  “You were incredible,” Althea praised. “Way to go, baby girl!”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Demi wore a sad smile. “I know you’re still mad that I resigned, but it had nothing to do with me being jealous of Gigi. I just wanted to pursue my passions. I’m sorry if I upset you or came across as ungrateful. That wasn’t my intention.”

  Althea clasped her hand and led her over to a quiet corner near the window. “Honey, I owe you an apology. I was scared and upset, and I took my frustrations out on you.”

  “Scared of what? You’re the most fearless woman I know.”

  “Gigi’s busy with Roderick, you’re off chasing your dreams, our relatives only call when they need money, and these days I don’t have anyone to spend time with.”

  “Mom, that’s crazy,” Demi said, slowly rubbing Althea’s back. “You’ll always have me and Gigi in your life. We’re your daughters and we’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

  Geneviève appeared, holding her iPhone, and snapped pictures of them hugging.

  “We meet again,” trilled a female voice. “Cute dress. Forever 21, right?”

  Frowning, Demi glanced over her shoulder, saw Juliet standing directly behind her, and forced a smile. She’d expected to see the therapist at the event, but had hoped they wouldn’t come face-to-face. “No. My mom bought it for me at a Paris boutique—”

  “Stay away from my man,” Juliet hissed, interrupting her midsentence. “Chase loves me, and we’re going to get married, so back off or you’ll be sorry.”

  Demi forced herself not to laugh in the therapist’s face. She couldn’t believe Juliet’s nerve and was shocked she was making a scene at the Maidstone Club. Before she could respond, a dark-skinned woman in a floral-print dress and a red, vintage fascinator joined them. The sound of her low, haughty voice seized Demi’s attention.

  “So, you’re the sex-crazed YouTuber dating my son,” the stranger said, peeling off her satin gloves. “I wish I could say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but it’s not.”

  Demi froze. Taken aback by Ms. Harris’s cold demeanor, she didn’t know what to say in response and stared at her for a long moment. Geneviève elbowed Demi in the side and she snapped out of her haze. Even though the expression on Estelle’s face could scare a hardened criminal, Demi greeted her warmly. “Mrs. Crawford, it’s great to finally meet you,” she said, determined to make a good first impression. “I’m Demi Harris.”

  “No, you’re a home wrecker,” Juliet spat. “And I’ve had enough of you.”

  From the stage, the emcee called for attendees to join the group picture, but Demi didn’t move. “I don’t understand why you’re pursuing a man who obviously doesn’t want you. Chase has moved on with his life and you should, too.”

  Estelle spoke through clenched teeth. “I know what my son needs, and it’s not you...”

  Juliet wore a triumphant smile.

  “Chase needs a professional, educated woman, not an immature girl who spends her day posting about asinine things such as glitter makeup, sex toys and one-night stands.”

  Althea stepped forward and raised an index finger in the air. “Insult my daughter one more time and I’ll give you the beating of your life.”

  “You don’t scare me,” Estelle said, folding her arms across her chest. “I grew up in the South in the sixties, and if I can survive the race riots, I can beat anything, including you.”

  Demi’s mouth fell open. Despite her wealth and sophistication, Mrs. Crawford was worse than a schoolyard bully, and Demi feared the women were going to come to blows. She certainly didn’t want to see her mother get hurt in a fight, and she could imagine the headline now: Pop Star and Lifestyle Expert Brawl at Maidstone Club. She shuddered at the thought.

  “Is that right?” Althea yanked off her gold, clip-on earrings. “Bring it on.”

  Thinking fast, Demi linked arms with her mom and gestured to Geneviève to do the same. Scared all hell was going to break loose in the grand ballroom, Demi searched for the nearest exit. “Goodbye, Mrs. Crawford. Enjoy the rest of the afternoon, and all the best in your recovery.”

  “Mom, let’s go,” Geneviève said, patting her arm.

  Althea argued and protested as her daughters led her past the dessert tables, through the open doors and out into the corridor. Attendees joined them, praising Demi’s keynote address, but their kind words didn’t boost her spirits. Her conversation with Estelle Crawford had left a bitter taste in her mout
h and she couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling of sadness.

  “Who does Mrs. Crawford think she is?” Althea asked, her lips curled in disgust. “I have half a mind to go back in there and knock her out. High-and-Mighty-Gucci-wearing bitch.”

  “Mom!” Geneviève glanced around the corridor. “Don’t say things like that. You never know who might be listening.”

  “I. Don’t. Care. Estelle Crawford is a snob with an ugly personality, and I hate her...”

  Demi stood silently, listening to her mother vent, hoping Althea wouldn’t make good on her threat. She’d sent her girlfriends a group text, asking them to join her outside, and once they did, she was going home. After her run-in with Juliet and Mrs. Crawford, she’d lost all interest in having a celebratory dinner with Chase, and now had even more doubts about their future.

  “Mom, you don’t mean that.” Geneviève gripped Althea’s shoulders, forcing her to look at her. “Demi’s crazy about Chase and if you trade insults with Estelle, every time you see her, you’re going to put Demi in a terrible position.”

  Demi swallowed hard. She agreed with her sister, but she remained silent. She didn’t want her mom to think she was taking sides or condoning what Estelle had said. After months at odds, they were finally in a good place, and Demi didn’t want to do anything to rock the boat. “Can we go? I’m exhausted. The girls can take a cab back to my place whenever they’re ready—”

  “Estelle Crawford will never accept you,” Althea said in a firm voice. “And it would be foolish of you to date a man whose mother thinks you’re beneath him.”

  Geneviève shook her head. “Mom, that’s not true. Chase adores Demi—”

  “I’m sure he does, but he’ll never choose Demi over his family. Men like him never do.”

  A burning sensation coursed through Demi’s chest. Dropping her gaze to her feet, she closed her eyes and waited for the moment to pass. She heard conversation and laughter and classical music, but the soft, soothing sounds didn’t alleviate her stress.