by Dawson, Zoe
The longing in his voice to me he was homesick, which softened me. He stirred me in so many unexpected ways, and more than anyone else I had ever met. It was a dangerous feeling.
“It’s a dirty, overcrowded city,” I said.
He looked at me and my heart tripped a little. “You’re cynical?”
“I’ve been in the U.S. for most of my adult life.”
“Where are you from?” He folded his arms and propped one of those lean hips against the balcony wall.
“I haven’t been back to Kent in such a long time. London, yes, but not Kent.”
“What’s it like?”
It was only because his homesickness seemed to rub off on me that I decided to answer. I knew getting cozy with Deke wasn’t a good idea, but… “Talk about beauty,” I said. “It’s not described as the garden of England for nothing. It sits on the sea, with a landscape of fragrant, gentle hills, fertile farmlands, cultivated country estates, and fruit-laden orchards. It produces the world-renowned Kent hops, and some of our country’s finest ales and wines come from its numerous vineyards. It’s the home of both the spellbinding Canterbury Cathedral and the White Cliffs of Dover.”
“I’ve heard of the White Cliffs.”
“How did you hear about them?”
“I was bored a lot in school. Did a lot of net surfing. I found it on one of my landmarks kicks.” He stepped closer, and I shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the chill. “I found out they are composed of chalk. I thought that was pretty cool when I was a kid.”
“You are still a kid.”
“No, I’m not, shug,” he said, while I watched the wind playing with the thick hair falling across his shoulders. “The English Channel is narrowest there,” he continued in a musing tone. “Lots of invasions from Europe. I read people watched dogfights from the White Cliffs during the Battle of Britain. I got curious and looked up more information. You guys were pretty brave during most of your wars, ah, even in the Revolutionary War, but especially in World War II. It’s impressive.”
“Ha! You Yanks. Yes, you bested us during the American Rebellion. Really, we had bigger problems back then, as I believe our history shows. We weren’t too affected by it.”
“You have to say that because we kicked your ass.”
“Perhaps that’s true, but we’re friends now.” He smiled and nodded. “And, yes, we’re a tough and stoic people and all that. Did you ever go?”
“To the cliffs?”
I nodded.
He shrugged. “No, I couldn’t travel because we were too poor, so I went there in my imagination.”
“Your imagination.”
“Yeah, it worked well for Max.”
“Who’s Max?”
“The kid in the book Where the Wild Things Are.”
“Oh, yes, I know that book.”
“It’s something I learned from the book. Imagination is a powerful thing. You must believe in that.”
Because I was melting inside, I felt the need for armor. “I don’t go for fanciful notions, if that’s what you mean.”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” he said impatiently. “I’m wearing something that you conjured up in your imagination. I’ve been looking at concrete proof of it all day today.”
My heart beat triple time. “You are very clever, aren’t you?”
He unfolded his arms and leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Why don’t you hang with me and find out for yourself?”
I turned away, changing the subject to something less volatile and intimate. “The cliffs are a well-known landmark. My da owns a vineyard between Dover and Folkestone. It’s where I grew up.”
“So different from the bayou. Sounds like a place I’d love to visit.”
“It’s incredibly different from the bayou’s lovely, hanging moss and mysterious swamp. Maybe someday you’ll be able to go there.”
He gave me an assessing look. “Maybe, if you’ll go with me.”
“You are a persistent one,” I said as a flash went off and my gut tightened.
Damn, Kathy Stokes, busybody fashion elitist, stood on the balcony and said, “Mr. West, I’d like a word with you.”
I took that as my cue to leave. Even as Deke gave me a pleading look, I passed the jacket back to him, ducking back inside. It was bad enough that busybody fashion reporter saw me with him…alone…in the moonlight. Grabbing another flute of champagne, I decided that drunk was preferable to feeling sorry for myself.
Hours later, I wasn’t feeling any pain, and most of the guests had left. Braxton and River Pearl had gone up to their room an hour ago. I saw Boone and Verity heading that way, and the caterers were cleaning up the kitchen and living room areas. As I ushered them and the last guests out of the penthouse, Deke came down the stairs dressed in the clothes he’d arrived in.
I thought he had slipped out long ago, but unfortunately he hadn’t.
He brushed past me and settled on the couch. Actually, he sprawled, legs apart, his groin accentuated by the way his sexy jeans tightened over his man parts.
“It’s getting late,” I said.
“It’s barely eleven.”
“Don’t you have classes tomorrow?”
“Yes, but not until the afternoon.”
Deke. Decon West. Eighteen-year-old Deke, a freshman at Columbia, I reminded myself. Brains to go with all that brawn, and there was a lot of it. Six feet four inches of it. The alcohol I’d consumed was making things a bit muzzy.
He looked sexy and sleepy, a take-his-time-kind of guy. Which was strange, because he was so young. Most young men were all about getting somewhere fast. He took up way more space than you’d expect, too, so my world seemed to narrow down to only him.
“I won’t protest too much if you come over here and kiss me. I have a powerful craving for you, Minnie. I think you have the same kind of craving.”
I was riveted to the spot, my heart slamming against my chest. His confidence was astounding for one so young. There was nothing to build my resistance on here.
Back in Suttontowne I had absorbed everything I could about him while I visited Verity. He was solid, dependable, and sweet. No one had anything terrible—or even half-hearted—to say about Deke. And I'd heard plenty. “He knows where he’s going and what he wants.” “That boy has a head on his shoulders and his heart in the right place.” “He’s not a heartbreaker. He’s a heartrocker. Rocks my heart hard.”
He sat forward, and a tendril of his burnished hair escaped the band and brushed the golden stubble on his face. He’d pulled it back, leaving his striking face exposed, his broad shoulders filling out the simple blue button shirt he wore tucked into his jeans.
“Aw, come on, girl. I don’t bite.” He gave me a playful look that pulled on me. I took a step forward. “Well, only a little. And, from the way you been studying my mouth ever since we laid eyes on each other, I can deduce that you want to see what ol’ Deke has to offer.”
With the coolest, frostiest voice I possessed, my British accent icing over, I said, “Are you thickening your accent on purpose?”
“I’m turned on. That usually does the trick.”
“That country boy thing really works for you, doesn’t it?”
He smiled, and I decided his smile really worked for him, too. God, I wanted to release all that hair. Had been dying to since I first laid eyes on him in Suttontowne.
“That’s a nice accent you got going there, too. But you ain’t foolin’ me, Minnie. I see the heat in your eyes.”
I had inadvertently gotten too close, and the long reach of his arm snagged my hand. His touch was warm and sent tingles all over my skin.
“You a heartbreaker, Deke?” I whispered, my voice drying up.
His thick blonde lashes dropped over his ocean blue eyes, and he shrugged. “I don’t mean to be. You work in a world of beautiful people, shug and…looks…they’s just skin deep. Only plain ol’ me underneath all this skin and muscle.”
“I believe you
don’t mean to be a heartbreaker. It’s getting late.” It was a dismissive tone, but he only smiled wider, as if he knew he was getting to me. My body was on hormone autopilot, and I had to resist the urge to look down to see if my panties had melted off.
“You’ve already said that.” His smile faded and his eyes went oh-so-serious. My insides went jingle-jangle. He was incredibly fine-looking, and his laser-bright intensity was focused inescapably on me.
“Come over here, girl. And bring your mouth with you. I think we’ve played this game long enough.” He tugged and I stepped a bit closer.
“How did you learn to be so charming in eighteen years?” He ran his hand up my arm and back down. Just the lightest of touches. I shivered, wondering where my will of steel had gone. Probably melted right along with my panties, and every other part of me.
“Just like the beauty you haven’t even realized you possess, and I ain’t just talkin’ ’bout your looks, shug. It’s born ’n bred, is what my momma says. I was charming kisses outta my momma for a long time before I was charming them outta the ladies. There’s all kinds of kisses.”
“And what category would you put my kisses in? You haven’t kissed me yet.” I couldn’t help it. I stepped even closer, and he opened his legs so I brushed against the insides of his knees, the denim rough against my bare skin. Why had I worn such a short skirt?
“In the slow, take-your-time, no-hurry category, right up there with morning sex, ’cause I get a powerful hard-on in the morning. In fact, it’s so powerful, if I don’t have myself a lady in bed with me, I jack off.”
I took a breath. My panties had to have disintegrated by now.
“So come over here, Miz Tattersall, because I’m hopin’ I don’t have to jack off in the morning.”
I took in a heated breath and fell against him when he tugged, my legs folding up on either side of his hips.
“Don’t make me beg,” he said. “I will. I’ll beg.”
#
Deke
Tangled up with Minnie, finally, on her couch, her straddling me. She was motionless, her hands still clutching my shirt, her breath in my ear. Having her snug against my dick was both bad and good. First, not having been with a woman made it even more of a turn-on to have her fitted against me; second, I was afraid that the stimulation of her delectable butt on my dick would make me shoot my wad.
Not sure why I talked about having a lady in bed with me, since I haven’t done it, but the part about being powerful was true.
Her mouth was only inches away, but I wasn’t going to make a move toward her. Maybe I’d learned a thing or two in my young life, but a willing woman who’d made the decision to consent to having my mouth on hers was much better than me forcing the issue. I was cajoling her, but I was pretty sure she wanted me. Otherwise, I would have left her alone. She hadn’t really said yes or no at the runway show.
I was a little at a loss.
Every time she exhaled, my temperature jumped ten degrees, and I was damn close to critical meltdown, because this was Minnie on top of me, molded to my body—wild Minnie with the wary green eyes who’d held me at bay all day, Minnie, who was definitely out of my league and in one of her own, Minnie who looked much too uptown girl for my small town boy.
Minnie, who fascinated me with her hot, needy gaze and sidelong glances, with the way she moved.
Minnie whose fingertips were drifting over my face, looking at me like she actually saw me, had been thinking about me.
I dropped my head forward, let my nose slide through the silky strands of her hair and brush against her skin. Her breath caught softly in her throat, which was a good sign, and she didn’t pull away, which only increased my confidence.
She reached back and pulled out the elastic holding my hair, making a soft sound in her throat as it released and tumbled to my shoulders. I was sinking into Minnie, into the scent and softness of her, opening my mouth on her neck, sliding my hand up into her hair, holding her—filling myself up with her. I grazed her jawline with my teeth, and she shivered, all over. I slid my nose down the side of hers, and her hands tightened in my hair, which was such a perfect turn-on, having her hold onto me.
“Minnie,” I whispered, pleading in my tone. She cupped my face so tenderly, her thumb moving along my jawbone. I was powerless, weak in her grasp.
“Damn you, Deke,” she whispered softly, her fiery gaze slamming into mine, so close my head dropped onto the back of the couch as I went weak. She followed unerringly.
Her mouth covered mine, her lips incredibly soft, her breath catching in her throat again, her body melting against mine, the heat and pressure of her unbearable against my aching dick.
Oh, hot damn, she did want me.
I could feel it in her heartbeat, in the silent thrum of energy suddenly holding her so still on top of me. Her secret was compromised, and there was no mistaking what I wanted.
If she’d out-and-out told me no, it would have been one thing, but her breathing was shallow, as if she was feeling the same thrill that was coursing through me, and she was still holding on to me like her life depended on it, so I went ahead and kissed her back. I breathed her in and teased her, rubbing my lips over the corner of her mouth so very, very gently, and I whispered her name again.
“Minnie.” Beautiful Wild Thing…open for me.
And finally, she did, her lips parting on a ragged sigh I felt all the way down to my groin, a sigh of surrender. I didn’t hesitate. I slid my tongue inside, into soft, wet heat, into the sensual seduction of her mouth—into serious trouble.
I’d wanted to kiss her. God, how I’d wanted to kiss her, had known it would be good, but I hadn’t known it would instantly make wanting the rest of her so much more intense.
I should have expected it. I’d been kind of crazed of late, and all because of her. I’d let my imagination get way out of hand, but maybe so had she. When I buried my fingers deeper into her hair, she pressed her body down harder onto my erection. When I slanted my mouth across hers, she moved with me, making the kiss hotter, deeper, giving herself up and all but turning me inside out.
Geezus. She was incredible.
I should have done this weeks ago. I’d needed this weeks ago, to be with her physically, to make a connection. The dreams I’d had about her had been intense and hot, making me crazy when I woke up. Crazy and hard. The kind of dreams that brought on a full-body sweat.
There had been lost sleep, loss of any appetite, and, if I wasn’t careful, I was going to lose it right here in her living room with the two Outlaw brothers and their women just upstairs.
We weren’t alone, and no matter how good the kiss was, it wasn’t going to go nearly far enough to satisfy me—not with her on top of me, devouring me.
After waiting so long to get this close to her, I needed something. Something more than a kiss. I gathered her more tightly to me, loving the feel of her arms, the melting heat of her body against me, the shape of her where she rested. She made another soft, surrendering sound in her throat, her arms sliding up around my neck, her fingers tunneling up into my hair, and every functioning brain cell of my 145 IQ dissolved into pure instinct and sensation.
I thrust against her, my hand slipping under her dress, sliding up over silky skin. Everything felt so good, and there was absolutely nowhere to go with it, not when we were on her couch in the open. I heard the door open upstairs and footfalls, then a knock. “Minnie?”
I shouldn’t be kissing her the way I was. I knew it. She knew it. And thanks to the two of us knowing so damn much, the kiss slowed to a stop, until the only thing moving between us was our breath—our lips touching, our hearts racing.
And then it was all over.
“Minnie?” Verity called again.
Quickly I set her off my lap when the footfalls headed toward the stairs. She was smoothing down her dress while I reached for the discarded elastic and pulled my disheveled hair back. Untucking my shirt from my jeans, I stood just as Verity came down the sta
irs. She had a sheepish grin on her face.
“Deke. I just remembered you were here and you need to get home. I wasn’t sure if Minnie had gone up, but I see she hasn’t.”
“I’ll take care of him,” Minnie said, her voice soft.
I could see that Verity wanted to get back to Boone. “Good night, Verity. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Okay, have a good night. And, Deke, thanks for filling in and for supporting us.”
I nodded and smiled beyond words. She turned and hustled back up the stairs.
I wasn’t ready to go, not yet, not like this. But Minnie was staring at me, not moving. One look at her and I was about done in all over again.
She looked like she wanted me to be the strong one, like she was going to need days before she would be willing to let me go. Her mouth was soft, her cheeks flushed, and I could tell from her eyes that she was still just a little bit lost in that wonderful place we just visited.
I didn’t blame her. I would have stayed there, too, for days, right along with her, except I had to let her go because there were people here. People she didn’t want to know she had a crush on me and had given in to it.
Sonuvabitch. This was damned annoying and frustrating.
I had to go, and I had to go now.
She hesitated, then cupped my cheek and kissed me, her lips brushing across mine, not once, but twice. In the next instant, she whispered, “Go, I’ll have Daniel take you home.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow is another day, love. Now, go.”
I went because I didn’t want to embarrass her by being here in the morning, even though I would have followed her anywhere.
Back on the street, I headed for the limo parked at the curb. I glanced toward the intersection as a noisy bunch of people crossed against the light before settling into the soft leather seat.
Yeah, the City that Never Sleeps.
I twisted and ducked my head to look up at the penthouse, wondering how much sleep I would get tonight.
Or how many times I would relive those last moments in her arms.