by Emery, Lynn
Eric closed his eyes. He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I love Chinese takeout,” he murmured.
Dinner was a delightful game of tease. Shani took great pains serving their plates. They sat across from one another at her dining table. She lit candles that gave off a mild scent of spice that went well with the meal.
“Umm, this shrimp Schezuan is tasty.” Eric put down his fork. “But I’m stuffed.” His plate was more than half-full.
Shani savored a helping of moo goo gai pan. “China Garden is the best in town. Is that all you’re going to have?” She pointed to his plate. “Have another taste.”
“All right, I will.”
He came to her in one quick motion and lifted her up from the chair. Swinging her around in slow motion to the rhythm of a blues ballad playing soft and low, he let his tongue roam across her lips. Pressing her body to his, she matched his movement to the music. Shani no longer wanted to play the game. She wanted to feel his bare chest against hers. Her hand guided his fingers to the front buttons of her sweater.
“What about going slow?” Eric said between short gasps.
“Oh we will definitely go slow, sugar. Nice and slow.” Shani led him to the bedroom.
True to her word, even their undressing was a sweet, sensuous ceremony. Shani ran her tongue down the middle of his chest and around each nipple until he cried out. Yet still she took her time as they stood naked in front of the full length mirror near her bed.
“What are you doing?” Eric watched in fascination. Her hands moved over his body without touching the one spot that ached the most.
“I’m taking my time,” she whispered, her mouth against the flesh of his shoulder. “I want you so bad, baby. But I don’t want this to end too fast.” Shani made the act of wearing the condom an act of erotic play.
She pushed him down on the bed. Eric moaned deep in his throat as she lowered herself onto him. The gentle rocking motion propelled them both to cries of pleasure. The lingering motion went on for a long, luscious time until Eric began to buck beneath her. With one elbow braced on the bed, he lifted his pelvis while clutching her waist. His thrusts sent shudders through her. Shani dug her fingernails into his shoulders.
“Now, baby,” Eric said through clenched teeth. “Now.”
Shani let control of her passion slip just enough. Ecstasy raked her body like thousands of needles. Tiny needles of both pleasure and pain.
“Please, please. Oh, Eric!”
His cries were a mixture of grunts and groans incomprehensible except for her name repeated with each bone shaking stroke as he climaxed. Shani crumpled in a heap on his chest. Eric eased her down to stretch beside him on the sheets. Minutes stretched into an hour before either spoke.
“Now that you’ve seduced me and made me into an obsessed man …” Eric began.
“Say what?” Shani poked him in the ribs.
“That’s right, young lady. You have to take responsibility for your actions and do right by me. I’ll need treatment.” Eric combed his fingers through the tangle of her thick hair.
“What kind of treatment?” Shani snuggled into the crook of his arm.
“Regular doses of your voice, your face, and . ..” He squeezed her thigh beneath the sheet. “Everything else your hot little imagination can cook up.”
“Well under the circumstances it’s the least I can do.” She giggled.
“Good. And about our politics,” he said lifting her face to his, “Don’t ever suppose what I believe could lead me to intentionally hurt you. Promise you’ll trust me, Shani,” he whispered.
“I promise, baby. I promise.” Shani gave him an ardent kiss that rekindled smoldering embers.
Chapter 4
“Hey good-lookin’.” Eric planted a solid kiss on his mother’s cheek.
“Hello, dear,” Adeline Aucoin said. She gave him a maternal pinch of his cheek in return. “Well, you look okay I guess. Getting plenty of rest?”
Eric shrugged. “Enough. I try not to work late too many nights in a row. Yum-yum, you’ve been baking again.” He reached for a plate of brownies under a round glass cover on the kitchen counter.
“Your favorite.” Adeline beamed at his sighs of satisfaction.
“You must be feeling pretty good then.”
Eric gazed at his mother, searching for signs that she was in pain. Adeline suffered from rheumatoid arthritis, high blood pressure, and asthma. Though she had never been strong, her health had grown worse in the last four years. There were days she could not get out of bed without assistance. Dalton Aucoin treated his wife with a tender concern in stark contrast to the brusque manner he usually displayed.
“Tip top.” Adeline smiled at him. “Really dear, you shouldn’t worry about me,” she replied seeing the small crease remain in his forehead. She patted his arm to reassure him.
“What did the doctor say?” Eric knew from his father that she’d had her checkup the previous day.
“I’m doing well all things considered, baby.” To prove her point, she walked over to the refrigerator. “You need something to wash that down.”
She poured him a glass of milk much as she’d done when he came home from school as a boy. Adeline sat next to him at on a stool. With long fingers showing slight swelling from arthritis, she arranged the ankle-length green silk lounge dress. Her hair was a lustrous silver gray perfectly styled. Adeline was meticulous with her hair, makeup, and dress. And despite her illnesses, she was still a handsome woman at fifty-three.
“Now I want to catch up on you. How is work coming along? I hear a real fight over the budget is shaping up.”
“Yes, a lot of sacred cows are on the carving board. It’s not going to be pretty or polite this session,” he said referring to the upcoming legislative term. “There are some pretty determined folks on both sides.”
“Indeed. One in particular seems to have made quite an impression. On the media, I mean.” Adeline pretended not to notice his darting glance.
Eric cleared his throat. “Oh? Think I’ll have some more milk.” He went to the refrigerator.
“There to your right on the top shelf,” she pointed to the red and white carton. “An attractive, articulate young woman was shown tearing into you at one of your committee meetings. Now what is her name? Morton, Morrison …”
Eric came back and gave her an admonishing look. “Mama, let’s cut the cat and mouse game. You’ve got a better pipeline of information than the FBI.”
Adeline looked innocent. “Why I don’t know what you mean.”
“Mama.” Eric stared at her hard.
“Well it just so happens my friend Imogene Hampton’s son is a member of the Mid-City Board of Directors. She says …” Her voice trailed off at his frown. “I wasn’t being nosy. Immy and I got to talking one day over coffee after garden club meeting.”
“Sure.” Eric looked skeptical. “And it just happened to come up.”
“Immy might have said she saw you two having lunch.” Adeline fussed with her hair. “Of course I told her she must have been mistaken. Eric would most certainly have introduced me to her, I said.”
“Mama, we only started seeing each other a few weeks ago. And you haven’t met every woman I’ve dated in the last seven years.”
Adeline’s finely shaped eyebrows went up. “Only the two you were serious about. Or thought you were serious about. Thankfully you came to your senses both times.”
“Mama—”
“I know you too well, Eric Paul Aucoin. If it meant nothing, you would have mentioned having met her over lunch when I first brought it up.” She waved a finger in front of his nose. “She seems to a nice young woman from all I hear.” The word “nice” was said in a disparaging tone meant to provoke him into talking. It worked.
“Shani is a caring committed professional and yes, Mama, she is a very nice person; someone who cares about other people. Unlike most of the silly women you’ve shoved at me.” Eric wore a sour expression.
“I don’t shove women at you, Eric,” Adeline said in an injured voice. “I’ve merely introduced you to some of most beautiful young ladies from the finest families in Baton Rouge.”
“With nothing heavier on their minds than the next shopping trip in New Orleans or Houston.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Jalisia Minor is a top marketing consultant. Why you don’t see her anymore is a mystery to me. The poor girl adores you.”
“Jalisia works, if you can call it that, for her uncle. She’s looking for a husband so she can explore new frontiers of credit,” Eric retorted.
“Nonsense. And what about Helene Cavalier? She’s the top assistant to the secretary of the Department of Health and Hospitals.”
Eric laughed. “Who made it clear when we first met that she had an income requirement for any man she’d let in her life. Don’t get me started, Mama. I could tell you things about those lovely ladies that would curl your hair.”
“Don’t be crude, Eric.” Adeline looked away in an attempt to hide the spark of interest his spicy tidbit caused.
But Eric was not deceived. “You’d love to hear it. And no doubt you’ll get the full details by sundown tomorrow.” He grinned at her.
“Don’t try to change the subject. Shani Moore doesn’t seem to have much in common with you.” Adeline walked with some effort to the den beckoning him to follow. She sat on a large sofa with huge stuffed pillows. A fire burned brightly in the brick fireplace.
“You mean her family background.” Eric poured his mother a glass wine.
“I meant what I said. Thank you.” She took a delicate sip of her one drink for the day. “Relationships are hard enough these days. It helps when you share the same views.”
“We don’t differ that much,” Eric stared into the fireplace.
The yellow flames brought back the searing heat that had flashed through his body when he made love to Shani. She worked a kind of sorcery on his senses. Memories of her smile, the sound of her voice in his ear set his heart thumping and his mind reeling.
“My goodness. Things have gone that far then.” Adeline clucked her tongue.
“What?” Eric started. He wiped perspiration from his upper lip with a handkerchief.
She gave him a wise smile. “It doesn’t take a mind reader to know this Shani Moore has a special place in your heart. Just be careful. Opposites attract, but fights that electrify and stir passion early in a relationship can become bitter later on.”
“That won’t happen to us, Mama.” Eric took her hand.
“Hello, hello. What this? Are you all right, darlin’?” Dalton sat next to his wife and peered at her with an anxious frown. “What’s wrong, son?”
Adeline kissed her husband’s cheek then wiped away her lipstick from it. “Nothing is wrong, Dalton. My, what a pair of worriers you are.”
Dalton’s shoulders relaxed. He grinned at his wife with affection. “Not me woman, I just want to know what you two are cooking up. What about a drink, son? Your mother won’t object,” he teased.
“No thanks, Dad. I’ve got to keep a clear head these days.”
Adeline stood up. “That’s my boy. Now y’all have to excuse me. I’m going to bed and watch a little television.”
“I’ll try not to disturb you when I finally turn in.” Dalton said. He watched her walked away with a stiff gait. Seams of worry were etched into his face. “Your mother tries to hide just how bad she feels most of the time, Eric. I know it.”
Eric pushed away his own fears. His voice had a forced heartiness even to his own ears. “Mama is doing much better. It’s been over a year since she was in the hospital. Look how she’s gotten back into the swing of her social life.”
“Maybe you’re right. Still, I’m going to get her to slow down some.” Dalton turned an appraising eye on Eric. “Now what about you? Are you keeping a clear head?”
Eric lounged against the chair back. “Yep. I’ve been spending my days working on building coalitions and nights pouring over budget figures for three of the largest state departments. I don’t intend to be caught off guard when the session begins.”
“Good, do your home work. Don’t let distractions trip you up, son. Or hormones rule your head.” Dalton got up and went to the bar. He poured himself a glass of Chivas Regal.
Eric sat up straight. “What have my hormones got to do with anything?” A sinking feeling began in the pit of his stomach.
“Women are a gift, Eric. I’m the first to say so. But the wrong woman can be curse.” Dalton waved his glass to punctuate his words.
“Dad, you’re talking in riddles.”
“I’m talking about that social worker you’ve been seen with lately. The one that’s over…what’s it called? Oh yeah, Mid-City Center. A lot of misguided social engineering that only helps people stay dependent.” Dalton gave a grunt of disapproval.
“Dad, Mid-City has some very fine initiatives. And so what if I’m seeing Shani?”
Eric’s jaw jutted out in a defensive expression that bordered on sullen. His father was making him feel like he was ten years old and had just broken a neighbor’s window with his softball. Still, these were some of the same thoughts he’d had trying to convince himself not to get any closer to Shani. Now here he was defending the social programs his own party held in such low esteem. His conservative colleagues, Senator Raymond in particular, would not be pleased to say the least. It was obvious his father was thinking along the same lines.
“Son, you need to look to the future. I mean your future in politics, in the party. We need to establish credibility with men like Raymond.” Dalton took a swig of his drink.
Eric spoke in a tight voice. “My record should more than speak for itself. The party doesn’t rule my personal life.”
“Listen, Eric, I understand.” Dalton winked at him. “I was young and single once. Have your fun, boy. But don’t advertise it.”
Eric had a hard time checking his anger. He and his father had discussed his romantic escapades many times before. Yet this was very different. What he felt was different.
“Shani means a lot to me, Dad,” he said speaking with measured deliberation.
Dalton eyed him steadily for several minutes. “I see. Then you need to rethink that, boy.” He rose and put his now empty glass on the bar. “We’ve worked too hard to see it all unravel because you’re infatuated.”
Eric gripped the arm of the chair. “You mean you’ve worked too hard.”
Dalton whirled to face him. “Damn right. For years being a conservative has gotten me scorn from the liberal black leaders; so-called leaders living off our community like parasites. And the white conservatives treated me like dirt, hell worse than dirt sometimes. But I held on to my principles and worked to build something for you. Don’t throw it away for a little—”
Eric shot from his chair. “Don’t say it, Dad.” He turned his back to Dalton.
Dalton looked taken aback then contrite. “I’m sorry, son. I didn’t mean to disrespect the young lady. But think of the consequences.”
“My objectives haven’t changed. Raymond knows that. I don’t think anyone can question my commitment to the party platform.” Eric took a deep breath and faced him. “My private life has nothing to do with it.”
“Don’t be naive, Eric. They’re watching you like a hawk.”
“Then I’ll tell them exactly what I’ve just told you. Dad, Shani is a beautiful person. I want you to get to know her as a person, not a political label.”
“Son, I’m sure she’s a nice person…”
“I’ve invited her to our Christmas party at the club.” Eric went to his father and put a hand on his arm. “Please, don’t make this hard for us. Shani would really like to meet you and Mama. And it’s important to me that you give her a chance.”
After a long moment, Dalton covered Eric’s hand with his own large one. “All right, son. I’ll give it a try,” was all he would venture. “But maybe an intimate dinner here just the four of
us would be a more personal way to get acquainted first.”
Eric brightened. “Hey, that’s a great idea. Shani will be thrilled when I tell her. Thanks, Dad.” He gave his father a rough embrace. “Well, I better get going. Lots of work to do.”
“No problem, son. I’ll see you later.” Dalton smiled at him, but the smile faded when Eric turned away. His face became a rigid mask.
***
“And this is my office,” Eric said sweeping a hand around. He wore a nervous smile. “The scene of the crime. What do you think?”
Shani stood between the door and his desk twisting the strap of her leather purse. She was not at ease either. Eric’s last comment echoed her thought, making her wonder if it was written on her face. This is where plans were hatched to change the face of social service funding.
“Very nice,” she replied with a smile. “Is your father here?” Shani resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder. Meeting Dalton Aucoin was the second cause of her discomfort.
“Oh, he’s on a conference call with a couple of our satellite offices. He’ll be here in a minute. Come on, honey, sit down. You look tired.” Eric closed the door and fixed her a cup of coffee from the pot in his office.
Shani sat down. “You know how it is when you supervise a bunch of people. Why folks won’t do right is a mystery to me.” She shook her head then tasted the coffee. “Hey, your secretary makes great coffee.”
“That is a sexist remark. Nedra didn’t make it.” Eric grinned at her expression of surprise.
“You mean …?”
“Yep, Trumaine,” Eric said with a laugh.
Shani gave his knee a playful swat. “Very funny.”
“It’s good to see you smile. You seemed really down all through lunch.”
“Trying to rescue people from drugs seems like a losing battle some days. We can’t seem to counter the call of street life.” Shani closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
“Baby, I’m sure you’ve gone to the limit trying to help them. So if you’re beating yourself up thinking you could have done more, don’t.” Eric kissed her hand. “Mid-City is a lifeboat in a sea of troubles because of you.”