The easy jazz number flowed into something more melodic, more sensual, a bit reminiscent of Luther Vandross’s “If Only For One Night,” and she wanted to have just one night with Leo.
She lifted her head and found him staring at her. The love and sadness she read in his chocolate-brown depths lodged a lump in her throat. It was as if everything he was was laid bare in one look. But she had to know one thing.
“Was it worth it? Was ending our marriage worth your career?”
Leo stroked her cheek before he threaded his fingers through her hair. “No.”
“Then why?” Her voice broke on the question. She couldn’t stop the lone tear from sliding down her cheek.
He lowered his head until he rested his forehead against hers. “I thought it would endear me to the partners more.”
She flinched.
“I’m so sorry, Symmone.”
Nodding, she stepped away. “I should really get home.”
He grasped her hand when she would have walked away. She gazed into eyes desperate for her forgiveness.
“Just one night.”
Maybe if she wasn’t so tired she’d have resisted more, but she wanted the same thing. At her nod, he led her from the dance floor and to the elevator. Not once did he let go of her hand; whether he was afraid she would change her mind or needed the assurance she was real, she didn’t care. She needed the contact. She needed to know he wasn’t a figment of her imagination.
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open.
He led her out of the car, down the hall, to the room next to the exit sign. When he faced her, he seemed to struggle with something before he drew her close.
She flattened her hands against the hard muscles of his chest. The cotton of his shirt warm beneath her palms. She gazed into his face, found a plea for understanding. If only he knew how much she wanted to give him a second chance, to let him into her life as if nothing had happened.
Rising on tiptoe, she touched her lips to his.
When his arm tightened at her waist she kissed him with a hunger at odds with her projected calm. She just wanted one night, a few stolen hours where nothing else mattered.
He pressed her against the wall, the plaster cool through her rain damp shirt. She barely registered the click of the door opening and he maneuvered her inside. The door slammed shut and she tore her mouth from his.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
He silenced her apology with a searing kiss of his own. She sighed and he deepened the kiss, tongues dueling. Time seemed to stand still. One kiss gave her the assurance she needed that he desired her. Tears burned behind her lids. She stepped back, her body raging for more.
His gaze drifted over her as he smoothed her hair from her face. “I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart. I don’t want to make another mistake.
I want you, but I want you rested and clear before we take this further.”
Her heart melted at his restraint. Once more she lifted to her toes and swept her lips against his.
“I can live with that.” She glanced around the room, mildly surprised to see a small kitchen which opened into a roomy living room with a leather recliner and matching sofa.
“Would you mind if I took a shower?”
Desire leaped into his eyes, and she smiled.
“Whatever makes you comfortable.” He pivoted on his heel, led the way to the bathroom, and flicked on the lights.
Cocoa slate greeted her. The bathroom sported a large walk-in shower with a glass door.
Thick, fluffy towels waited on a shelf.
“Wow.”
He chuckled. “Yeah.” He moved to the door.
“I’ll hang one of my shirts on the door knob.
A shy smile creased her lips. “I’d like that.”
****
Nodding, he closed the door. The sound of water running filtered through the wood, as did the click of the lock. He smiled. She’d removed temptation. For a moment he stood, listening to the flow of water, imagining how her lush curves would look after all these years. How he longed to run his fingers over every supple inch of her satiny flesh.
He forced himself to leave the door and move into the bedroom. Flicking on the lights, he crossed the room and tugged open the closet door.
Reaching into his open suitcase, he extracted a pajama shirt. One night with her in his arms, that’s all he really wanted.
He hung the shirt on the knob and returned to the bedroom. The last thing he thought she’d ask him was if sacrificing their marriage for his career had been worth the pain. It hadn’t. When he said he didn’t want to make another mistake, he wasn’t lying. He wanted her back, but he needed her to know everything. Somehow “I’m back because I need you to further my career” just didn’t have the right ring to it, but it was the truth.
Or was it? Was his career the only reason he was here? The door clicked open and a moment later Symmone appeared in the doorway.
His jaw hit the floor as he plopped on the bed. His pajama shirt stopped mid-thigh on her and treated him to a generous view of her long, sexy legs. Was it so wrong to want to have them wrapped around him? He worked his gaze upward, lingering on the soft swell of her full breasts. If he just had time to bury his face in the valley of her breasts, it still wouldn’t be enough. By the time he reached her face she was grinning.
“God, woman, you are temptation.”
She inclined her head.
“C’mere.” He held his arms out to her.
After a brief hesitation, she settled in his lap. He buried his nose in her hair, taking the scent of soap and peaches deep into his lungs. So many lonely nights, and now here she was, warm from her shower, in his arms. He shifted and stretched out on the bed. The shirt bunched, giving him a hint of dark curls. He groaned.
“You really are tempting me.”
She giggled. “Not intentionally.” She tugged at the hem of the shirt, snuggled closer, and exhaled.
“Why do you work so hard? You’ve sent back every check I wrote.”
“I didn’t want to be reminded.”
He stared into her face, noticed her eyelids were dropping, and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. We’ll talk more after you’ve had some rest.”
Her head moved against his chest, and he studied the sooty thickness of her lashes resting on her cheeks. A few moments later her deep even breathing let him know she was sound asleep. He traced the outline of her lips before tucking a curl behind her ear.
One night with her in his arms. He jerked the blanket over them. He wasn’t going to waste it sleeping.
Chapter Six
She was warm and snug for the first time in years. Strong arms tightened around her as she settled deeper into the security of the embrace.
Lips, moist and soft, nibbled the hollow of her shoulder, while a solid erection bounced against her butt.
A sigh left her lips. If she was dreaming, she didn’t want to wake up. Familiar hands traveled down her body and slid beneath the cotton of her shirt. She arched into the palms cupping her breasts. One hand delved lower, while the other remained to tease the soft globe.
She shifted, throwing her leg over a powerful thigh to give the fingers brushing her mound better access to her aching folds. She held her breath as those digits slipped between her legs and slid inside her heat.
Her hips jerked at the welcome invasion and she moaned. She turned her head until her lips touched his, demanding more, yielding everything.
When he flicked his thumb against the button of nerves her entire body clenched.
Gone was the languid lover. Intimacy had been lacking in her life for far too long and she needed the fire of this man. With trembling hands she tugged at Leo’s shirt. She had to feel his skin against hers. Somehow, between desperate kisses, he managed to disrobe, leaving her in his borrowed top.
Early morning light fell across his features, stark with unrestrained passion. She lifted a hand and traced
his lips. He grabbed her hand and planted a kiss in the center of her palm.
He traced the triangle of skin at the opening of the shirt before he slipped each button from its mooring. The garment fell away, exposing her skin to the cool air. Her nipples tightened further under his scrutiny. She reached up and drew him down for a kiss. He obliged her mouth before moving to her chin, the hollow of her throat, and the valley of her breasts. Attention was laved on each puckered peak before he moved down her body, trailing kisses against her heated flesh.
She clutched the sheet in her hands as his tongue swirled against her stomach, teasing the raised edge of a scar, before traversing lower. A moan eased past her lips as his thumbs parted her labia. Air skittered across her exposed sex. When his tongue licked her from top to bottom she sobbed in pleasure.
He wedged his shoulders between her legs, exposing her even further to his oral exploration.
When she tried to wiggle away from his marauding mouth he grasped her buttocks and hauled her closer.
He took his time alternating between long slow licks to rapid flicks of his tongue, which left her moaning and sighing his name. Her hips thrust toward his questing mouth while pleasure swamped her. Flames flickered and sizzled through her veins as he kept her focused on what he was doing. He slid two fingers into her channel, stretching her while he teased her clit with his tongue. She relished the tight sensation but craved more. His fingers moved. In and out. In and out, urging her closer, stoking her passion until she burned for him.
She rode his hand and prayed this sweet torture wouldn’t end. He withdrew his fingers only to spear deep, lapping at her cream.
She didn’t want his loving to end, so exquisite was the pleasure he offered. Once more he sealed his mouth to her delicate flower, his tongue delving deep. Her hips bucked, riding the wave of ecstasy he provoked.
Tension coiled tighter, her belly bunching under his tender ministrations. Everything centered on the delight of his lips and mouth. Each rasp of his tongue brought her closer and closer, until her world narrowed. So close.
She whimpered as he eased the assault on her clit to place feather light kisses around the area. When he pulled his mouth from her entirely she shrieked a protest.
“No worries, sweetheart.” He teased the head of his cock against her weeping entrance. In one powerful stroke he entered her.
Tiny fissures built and shattered as her orgasm overtook her. He didn’t allow her to savor her climax but dragged her legs over his arms and kept the pressure where she needed it most.
Each slam of his hips built heat her body eagerly craved. She matched his pace, demanding as much as she gave. He smiled before he dropped a kiss on her waiting mouth.
His pelvis butted against her clit, teasing her, nudging her closer to her precipice. Everything centered on their intimate joining, her muscles bunching in anticipation of the orgasm she knew was to come. Ecstasy swept over and around her until she was plunging headlong into a massive climax. Her vaginal muscles clenched and spasmed around the hard cock impaling her. He stiffened, his fingers clutching her hips as his release overtook him. His thrusts slowed and he collapsed next to her.
They lay there panting, limbs tangled. After a moment he reached over and caressed her lips with his own.
“You’re not a dream,” he said.
She chuckled. “I was thinking the same thing.”
He gathered her close. “Let me take you out to dinner.”
“Okay.”
He leaned away to stare into her eyes.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
His response was a searing kiss that curled her toes.
She wrapped her arms around him and clung to his shoulders. He drifted his fingers over her abdomen as he circled her waist. She stiffened when he found and traced the raised skin.
When he leaned away, she shivered without his body heat. He slanted back and flicked on the light. She blinked in the sudden brightness. With growing trepidation she retrieved the nightshirt.
She knew what he would find when he examined her. An ugly, jagged scar ran low on her abdomen before disappearing into her bikini line.
When she tried to bring the front of the shirt together he stilled her hands. For a long moment she stared into his eyes. Something akin to compassion and love flickered in the coffee-colored depths, and she allowed him to brush the garment away. His warm breath teased and tickled the sensitive area, producing an ache between her legs.
“What happened?”
She swallowed. “I was in a really bad car accident.” It was all she could say. She didn’t want to mention how she nearly lost the twins because of some careless driver on his cell phone.
“You mean I almost lost you and never even knew?”
Too overwhelmed by tenderness to speak, she nodded.
He blanketed her body with his. “Say you’ll come back with me.”
“I can’t. I have a life here.”
“What do you have here that you can’t do close to my office?”
She clamped her lips together.
“Symmone?”
“Tonight over dinner I’ll tell you everything, but I’m not going to drop everything I’ve done to be with you.”
“Asking you to drop two crappy jobs to be my wife isn’t a good idea?”
She sucked in a breath and shoved at the hard wall of muscle. He didn’t budge. “You arrogant jerk! Get off me.”
As soon as he rolled to the side, she scooted to the edge of the bed. Her crappy jobs? Was that what he really thought? While he was off pursuing his all-powerful career designing multimillion-dollar buildings, she was only raising children and doing her best to balance life and motherhood. She dragged her fingers through her tangled curls and yanked on the ends.
“I can’t believe you could be so callous as to dismiss what I’ve done just because it isn’t ‘corporate’.” She stood and found herself staring at the solid wall of his chest. When had he moved?
He rubbed his hands up and down her arms.
“You’re right, you’re right. I was a little harsh. I’m sorry.”
She studied him a moment. “I’m going to leave now.” She stepped around him. “Maybe we both need a little time to put things in perspective.”
“Wait–”
She slammed the bathroom door and leaned against the wood. It was too soon. He didn’t even know about the kids and already he was trying to dictate what she should and shouldn’t do. She couldn’t give up her independence again. Not for him.
Once dressed, she was a little more composed. She stepped into the living area and found him seated on the couch, clad in black pajama bottoms. He tapped a business envelope in his hand.
“I got carried away. Tell me what you want,” he said, holding her gaze.
She studied him, trying to determine if he was serious. “I need to trust you. Just because we’re still attracted to one another doesn’t mean I’m going to drop everything and be your wife again. What makes you think I want to get married again or need you to take care of me?”
He sat back, his brows lifting. “But I thought…” He shook his head. “I guess it doesn’t matter what I think.” He held out the envelope.
“This is yours.”
She snatched the paper from his outstretched fingers. “An envelope?”
“A peace offering.”
Great, just great, as if the flowers and sex weren’t enough. She opened the flap and out tumbled a plastic card. She turned it over then looked at him for an explanation. “Okay. This isn’t mine.” She held the card out to him.
He nodded. “Yes, it is. On the advice of my lawyer and accountant, I opened an account. The money you returned has been held in trust. That is your account. Your money.”
She pursed her lips. “I told you I don’t want–”
“Would you even care to know the balance?”
Shaking her head, she slipped the card inside the envelope and laid it on the table. He jus
t didn’t get that she didn’t want him to take care of her. She was fine without him. “Thanks, but no thanks.” She glanced at her watch. “I really need to leave now. A plumber is due at my house in thirty minutes.”
Ignoring the disappointment on his face, she moved toward the door.
“Let me help.”
She spun on her heel only to find him mere inches from her. Somehow he’d moved without her hearing…again. She lifted her gaze from his bare chest to his face. A frown adorned his delectable mouth.
“How else am I supposed to get you to trust me if you won’t let me do anything?” His gaze roved over her face. “I understand I really hurt you, but I know you have feelings for me or you wouldn’t be here.”
She lowered her head, hating he was right.
But there was so much she had yet to tell him. If they were going to have any type of amicable relationship, she needed to tell him about the twins…before someone else did.
“Fine.” She reached in her purse, pulled out pen and paper, and scribbled her address on the page. “Be there in an hour. I need you to meet someone.” Before he could answer she slipped out the door.
****
What had she done? She hadn’t even prepared the kids for Leo’s arrival. Symmone walked through the house wiping imaginary dust from shelves and tables. The plumber had long since left and the bathroom was functional. When she arrived home to tell Melvin what transpired, she found a note saying he’d taken the kids to breakfast and hinted at her getting some rest after her date.
She sank onto the sofa. He didn’t know the half of it. She had no idea what time they would be back, and Leo was due any minute. What would he say when she told him? Her pulse pounded. What would he do? She sprang to her feet; she couldn’t sit still any longer. Maybe some sunshine would calm her nerves.
The sun bounced its blissful rays on the sidewalk and the few children brave enough to use their imaginations. Symmone sat on the front stoop watching a small group of girls take turns twirling the ends of a jump rope. A smile touched her lips.
The Pick-Up Wife Page 4