Ray frowned. “But Red just said—”
“Boy,” Big Eddie chuckled, “don’t ya know when a woman answers a man in that pillow talk voice, it’ll be at least fifteen mo’ minutes. Maybe more.”
“What,” Ray exclaimed and threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Are you sure?”
Big Eddie nodded. “Positive.”
“Daaayuuum,” Ray mumbled under his breath. He sat heavily on the sofa, again. “We’ll starve to death waiting on Red. What should I do?””
Ida Mae answered. “Sit down, hush up, and wait.”
~ ~ ~
“Okay, darling.” The next day, Laney gripped both hands around the steering wheel of Ray’s convertible with confidence. She glanced over at the passenger seat. “I’ve got it this time.”
No she didn’t. Ray sucked his teeth. For the last hour he’d tried to teach Laney how to drive a stick shift. “Okay, baby, let’s take it from the top again. You got three pedals you working with. Got that?”
Laney moved her feet to the side and glanced down. “Gas, brake, and clutch. I’ve got it.”
Ray pointed to the gearshift. “Now you’re working with four gears. Got that?”
Laney went silent and stared out the windshield with a deep concentrated look.
Ray groaned. Mary Mother of Jesus, she was thinking, again.
“Well, why—”
“Look it, Red. The car’s got four gears.” Ray jumped on this one quick. If he let Laney analyze whatever was swirling through her brilliant mind, they could very well be there all night. “See this?” He held up his left hand and folded back four fingers. “One, two, three, four. Four gears. That’s it and that’s all.”
“Okay, darling, I’ve got it.”
Maybe they were getting somewhere this time, Ray thought. At least he hoped so. He’d already explained the difference between the gears. He’d told her how she needed to listen to the sound of the engine so she knew when it was time to shift. He’d even showed her the H pattern on the gearshift. Without touching the shifter knob, he’d pointed to each of the four numbers. Now he discovered driving a manual transmission ranked side-by-side with her culinary skills. Still, Ray flashed a grin of confidence. “That’s my girl. Okay, I want you to do everything exactly the way I explained and showed you. Ready?”
With a look of determination, Laney gripped the steering wheel again and looked straight ahead. “Ready.”
Ray subtly made the sign of the cross. He hoped so, too. It had been the longest hour of his life.
Laney placed her left foot all the way down on the clutch at the same time she placed her right foot on the brake. She glanced over at the gearshift to be certain it was in first gear. Satisfied that all systems were a go, she turned on the ignition.
Ray lifted his brow, impressed. So far, so good.
She lifted her left foot of the clutch a little too soon, though. The car jerked forward and the engine cut off.
“Red—”
“No, no, darling. I remember everything you said. I’ve got it.”
Ray glanced over at Laney and smiled. Although he’d spent the last several weeks planning for her birthday, he wanted to be sure he’d covered all the bases. “So, is there anything special you’d like for your birthday?”
Laney was so focused on driving, the comment didn’t register immediately. She repeated each of the previous steps and this time, she succeeded. In fact, she got to third gear. Then it dawned on her what Ray had muttered a few moments earlier. She took her eyes off where she was headed and offered him a private smile. “You.”
CHAPTER TEN
Ray paced in a tight circle inside Chez Philippe. In celebration of Laney’s birthday, he’d rented out the entire restaurant located inside The Peabody Hotel in downtown Memphis, known for its impeccable French and Asian cuisine for the occasion. And for the first time in his life, he’d gambled. The Presidential Suite was on stand-by. Whether he and Laney occupied it tonight was strictly her call.
He’d checked and double-checked with the staff to ensure his instructions were followed to the letter. Perfection was never more important to him than it was this evening. He glanced at his watch for the umpteenth time. God, he hoped the chauffer he’d hired to pick her up arrived soon. A soft clearing of the throat made him halt mid-stride.
Then he saw her.
Laney wore a simple, red, raw-silk strapless dress with a colorful shawl draped artfully over one shoulder and held a tiny beaded purse. She wasn’t a clotheshorse, but her sense of style and color added elegance to practically everything she wore. Ray needed a moment, just a little while to stare, to drink in her beauty. His gaze began at the two pearl studs at her ears, slowly drifted to her bare throat, and finally rested at her tiny feet covered with thin strapped, open-toed heels.
Dressed in a black, mandarin collard tuxedo, Ray walked over. He waited until she gave the maître d’ her shawl, then handed her a single red rose. He held his arm out and escorted them to their table in the middle of the restaurant. Under normal circumstances, he’d order a bottle of Dom Perígnon, but opted for sparkling water instead.
Ray peered over his menu. “You’re awfully quiet, Red.”
“I’m a little overwhelmed, that’s all.”
Now it was time to worry. What had he not thought of that she needed or wanted? Anxiety hit him and he nervously chuckled. “Why?”
Laney glanced around the semi-lit dining room. It was just the two of them. Never in life had any man gone to these lengths for her. She not only felt beautiful, but special. Excitement thumped in the pit of her stomach, tightening every muscle in her body, and produced an ache between her legs. “You’ve created such a wonderful environment. This is pure magic. Thank you, darling.”
“No, thank you,” Ray uttered quietly. “If it had not been for you, I wouldn’t have known what it is like to court a woman. It’s like I told you before, Red. You give me perspective.”
“I’ve gained a lot of perspective being with you, too,” she said just above a whisper.
They sat quietly for the next few moments. When their gazes finally locked, Laney felt a dull heat creeping between them, which she wanted to turn into a raging inferno. “There are so many entrees to choose from,” she said, finally breaking the silence and placed the menu on the table.
“Perhaps we could give the Scottish salmon a shot.”
She offered him a private smile. “What I want isn’t on the menu.”
“All right.” Ray leaned in closer until his chest collided with the table and placed his menu aside. “Want me to get the chef to prepare a special request?”
She toyed with the stem of the rose, looking directly at him. “I don’t think he can.”
“He could give it a shot.”
“His efforts would be in vain. You see, what I want was wonderfully and uniquely prepared just for me thirty-eight years ago by Alcee and Angelique Baptiste.”
Ray swallowed hard, his brain nearly on overload, and his eyes at half-mast. His voice came out on a ragged whisper. “You’re sure?”
“I’m very, very, sure.”
Ray knocked over a crystal stem water glass when he signaled the maître d’ to their table.
“Monsieur Baptiste, is something wrong?” The maître d’ asked when he rushed over.
Ray searched Laney’s face for any hint of uncertainty. Those green eyes were calm and filled with desire. “We need to leave.”
The maître d’ scanned the table. “If the sparkling water is not to your liking—”
“You drink it.”
“Monsieur Baptiste—”
“Bring the lady’s shawl,” Ray growled, cutting the maître d’ a lethal glare. “She’d like to leave. Now!”
Finally, comprehension dawned on the man. “I’ll take care of your request immediately, sir.”
After they left the restaurant, Ray and Laney walked hand in hand to the bank of elevators. She looked up at him with dreamy, green eyes, a
nd parted her lips. That did it. His hands found the side of her face, cradling it with care as his mouth captured hers.
When the elevator door opened and they stepped inside, her single request sent him into oblivion. “Hurry.”
~ ~ ~
Ray froze the moment they got to the Presidential Suite. It took a split second for the coordination between his brain and eyes to sync up. Now was not the time for his fingers to act stupid. He clumsily wrestled with the card key, then backed away and allowed Laney to stroll past. Closing the door, he never took his eyes away from her.
Rose petals scattered on the floor, renditions of his musical arrangements played softly in the background and countless scented candles caused tears to shimmer in Laney’s eyes.
“I hope this is okay?” Ray whispered.
Temporarily lost was the fact they’d lived in the same house for months while he’d recuperated. They already knew each other. She’d made the internal adjustments of the sizzling physical desire between. In all the ways that mattered, they were already lovers. The pact between them was made months ago. Invisible strands of love had wrapped around her heart from the start, and the web entrapping them for a lifetime was at hand. She simply offered him a slow, sweet smile. “It’s perfect.”
Ray asked, again. “You’re sure you want this?”
“It depends on what you plan to do,” she said in a sultry voice and looped her arms around his neck.
His eyes grew dark passion. The desires of his heart, the ones he’d wanted to act on all these months, but couldn’t, took center stage. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do and everything you’ll let me.” Finally he heard the arrangement of a melody he’d recorded just for her. He circled his arms around her waist. “Dance with me?”
“If I were your woman,” she crooned, “and you were my man.”
Ray’s eyes slid shut. He stroked his hands down her back. Months of wanting but denying, and needing but not having, was in the past. He stopped their movements and framed her face with his hands.
“Take your clothes off,” Laney whispered against his lips, her fingers in all-out combat with the buttons on his shirt.
Ray didn’t want to rip the wrappings off this package too fast. She meant too much to him to rush. She’d taught him patience. And her courage both stunned and humbled him. She didn’t play games. She simply knew and accepted.
No, he had to take his time tonight. This woman, his woman, was made to be loved. She was made to be savored and cherished.
His mouth closed on hers and his tongue moved into hers in a deep rhythm she instinctively accepted. The slow movement of her hips against his throbbing erection caused a pressure so great he thought his head might explode. A low, rough growl erupted from the back of his throat, and he turned her around. The dress slid off her shoulders, and he planted open mouth kisses at the base of her neck, his tongue dotting at the freckles scattered along her collarbone. No, the cancer hadn’t killed him, but the need to touch her might if his hands didn’t connect with the silky texture of her skin soon. Ray tried not to be rough and eased the dress away, followed by everything else.
His shirt went first. He bent and slipped off his shoes and socks, then straightened and unbuckled his belt. Without hesitation, he pushed down his pants and silk underwear and stepped free of them. The aching passion he’d had for her for so long surged to full strength when he crushed her against the mattress.
Laney squirmed against the sheets, but she never once looked away. Love and passion collided head-on and she opened her arms to him. “Hurry,” she whispered.
He laughed a little, although there wasn’t an ounce of humor in the sound. Instead, he touched her breasts, gently squeezing them. With exquisite slowness, his fingers rubbed at the nipples until they stood upright, then he bent over to kiss the enticing buds. Her breathing had changed; it was deeper now. A flush warmed her skin and a fierce masculine satisfaction flooded him knowing it was his touch that made her look and sound this way.
His hands stroked down her body, savoring the silky texture of her skin, shaping the curves and indentations from the swell of her breast to the flat surface of her stomach. A powerful finger slide over the triangle of reddish curls, then slipped into the softness of her folds, stroking her to delirium.
“Raphael,” she whimpered with frantic need as her eyes slid shut.
“Hold tight, mon ange.” He gently cupped her face in his hands. “Look at me, baby.”
Maybe it was her raspy moan. Maybe it was the way her legs fell open in welcome invitation. Maybe it was the shudder that raced down his spine when he heard her sweet voice whisper, “Je t’aime.”
Every thread of willpower he had nearly vanished, but he reined in control, barely.
The needed to taste and sample the sweetness of her mouth was up next. He made love to her mouth with long, deep thrusts of his tongue. His lips found the fragrant hollow of her throat. He lingered there for a long time until his hands knotted the sheets when her hips surged against his throbbing sex.
Ray positioned himself over her and framed her face once again. In the past, when he had sex, he always used protection. There wasn’t a need for that now because tonight, he wasn’t having sex. For the first time in his life, he was making love. He pushed into her body slowly, deeply, his face only inches away. Then realization dawned.
He didn’t say a word, didn’t ask any questions.
Tears seeped along her cheeks as her body stretched to accept him, touching a place in his heart no other woman had ever found before. Ray licked the salty wetness away and kissed her, his buttocks flexing to exert more pressure until her barrier gave way. He waited for her body to relax, waited for the acceptance of this new intrusion.
“I’m honored your first time was mine,” he whispered and began to move, with a slight rock that only nudged him back and forth, at best.
He took exceptional care with her, tempering the power of his thrusts to a slow, easy pace, even though anticipation clawed at him. Sweat beaded his taunt face and the slow roll of her hips drove him mad. He moved with her, overwhelmed by the glory of the dance, their race to ecstasy, and the precious gift she’d just given him.
“Raphael,” she moaned in a thin, questioning tone.
“Let it go, mon ange,” he groaned, his climax only a heartbeat away. Pleasure beyond description raked his body. He dropped his head, his body convulsing from his own powerful release.
He cradled her afterwards, stroking her with shaky hands. She was so quiet and still. He trailed his fingers along her cheek. “Mon ange, talk to me?”
Tears pooled in her eyes and her simple response said it all. “At last.”
~ ~ ~
A soft morning light filtered across the room the next morning. Laney opened her eyes, acutely aware of how Raphael’s fingertips rolled her nipples back and forth until they hardened.
Ray leaned on his side, bracing his weight on his elbow. Noticing the passion in her eyes fueled his. He slid his hand down the flatness of her stomach until it rested between her legs.
“Raphael…please.”
“You’re sore. Let’s wait a while.”
Laney smiled. She was greedy and wanted it all, wanted everything this man had to give. She loved him. She always had. He’d claimed her body, and in return, had given her his own. Last night she’d been opened up to a new world. This morning she felt like an adventurer in search of a hidden treasure. There was so much to see and do, and she quivered with excitement. “I don’t want to wait.”
Her gaze roamed his face. Bald and lean, he was every bit as gorgeous now as he was before the cancer. She’d longed for the freedom to explore his body and touched the curve of his shoulder. Her hand grew hot from the warmth of his skin. She focused on his hairless chest and ran her hand across it. She found a nipple. The tiny point on the flat brown circle hardened at her touch. Boldness made her gently scrape her fingernail over the tip.
A deep rumble worked
its way up from deep in his chest. “Girl, you gonna make the wave come in too soon.”
Her morning voice sounded husky and sexy. “Don’t worry, darling. When it comes, I’ll be riding it.”
Ray rolled to his back and spread his arms and legs wide. “Surf’s up.”
Temptation gave way to boldness and she rose to her knees, her nudity exposed for his eyes to see and hopefully, enjoy.
Laney ran both hands over the smoothness of his bald head. There was actually more masculinity to him now than before. “You’re a beautiful man, Raphael Baptiste.”
Slowly, her hands drifted from his head and lay flat against his chest. With her thumbs, she circled both nipples this time and felt them hardened again. She looked down at him. “Does that feel good?”
Ray swallowed hard. His chest expanded with such force, the rush of air escaping his lungs hurt. “Oui.”
Laney focused her attention back to the man beneath her. She leaned forward and circled a nipple with the tip of her tongue. His groan caused her to shudder, but not before she gave the same loving treatment to the other. Her hand slipped down to his rib cage. She let them glide up to his hairless armpits. He’d not only lost his dreads, but his body hair as well.
“Mon ange,” Ray uttered in a strangle voice. He sucked his breath in and prayed for control. He would hand over everything he owned to touch her right now. He’d never felt anything so agonizingly wonderful, yet so exquisitely gentle in all his life. He grabbed the mattress and dug his fingers into them. This was her show, and he had a feeling it would be a long time before the final curtain call.
Laney let her hands follow a path down the center of his belly, stopping briefly at his navel, then moved until it land at his erection. Her fingers curled gently around the length of him. He was thick and the thought of taking him inside of her again caused her to breathe in soft, hurried pants. Gently, she cupped his testicles and held them until his back arched. He was gorgeous there, too.
Ray shook from head to toe. “Have mercy,” he pleaded.
IF I WERE YOUR WOMAN Page 14