by Chloe Blake
* * *
Destin had no idea how long he’d been asleep. He came awake when the bed dipped. Nicole sat on the edge of it beside him, her hair teasing her bare shoulders and her lips glistening in the moonlight. Her eyes were focused, and her gaze ran a path over his naked torso, then lower to where the sheet tangled on his hips. He half rose and propped himself on his elbow, securing the sheet at his waist.
“Nicole,” he said, his voice like gravel. “Are you okay?”
“No, I can’t get out of this dress.” She turned and brushed her hair back. The zipper was halfway down and stuck, but all he could focus on was the silken expanse of her back.
“Here, let me help you.” Her skin glistened, and he couldn’t help but smooth his fingertips down her spine and over her thick bra strap. It was the lightest touch that had her turning her head to the side. Ending his exploration, he tugged the zipper a few times before working it free, then he pulled it all the way down to the stopper.
The dress gaped open, giving him an eyeful of her lower back and a glimpse of lacy red panties. What would she do if he kissed her there?
“Thank you,” she said into the dark, relief in her voice. He stared at her movements as she began to peel her arms from the dress; the hourglass shape of her held him enthralled. Again, her head turned to the side.
“Could you unsnap me?” Her voice turned dark, sexy. His body reacted in kind, and he loosened his bed sheet.
He swallowed hard. “Sure.” The word could barely be heard. He tried with one hand, but the little hooks on her bra were tougher than they looked. He sat up fully, his cover dangerously low, and used both of his hands to free her.
“Thank you.” She stood and turned, holding his gaze as she clenched the dress and bra to her breast. Without breaking eye contact, she let them both fall to her waist, then bent to shove the dress down her hips. Her breasts swayed forward as she worked the fabric down, letting it slide to the floor.
Riveted, Destin watched her step out of the pool of black lace at her feet and step into the moonlight that slashed the room. Her red panties glowed against her dark skin, beckoning him to touch.
He didn’t dare blink. She looked ethereal standing before him, nude and perfect, her nipples diamond hard. She could have been Hathor, the Egyptian Goddess of Love and Beauty, or a mythical siren of the sea, come to use him for her pleasure. He’d be taken, gladly.
Destin eased his legs over the edge of the bed to sit, allowing the sheet to completely slide free. He was erect, and getting more so as the dark challenge in her eyes shifted lower. Nicole. Did she know it was a French name, and that it meant victorious?
And he felt victorious, because he would no longer deny himself what he wanted so badly.
* * *
“Come toward me.” It wasn’t a request; it was a command. Destin’s navy gaze caressed her breasts, her torso, and her thighs and the pulsing apex in between. She simply stood, relishing the sight of his taut muscles and smooth skin, in awe of the power that rose between his legs. “Come here, Nicole,” he repeated, impatient.
She bit her lip and studied his smoldering gaze, relishing her power over him. Slowly she walked forward. Who was she kidding? He had power over her, too.
When she got within arm’s length, he reached for her, pulling her close until she stood just inside his open thighs. She quivered at his touch, and his ragged breath told her he was feeling the same uncontrollable desire.
“I can’t stop this time, Nicole. I won’t stop.” He placed a light kiss on her pelvis, just above her panties, and ran his hands up the backs of her thighs to her bottom. He sank his fingers under her panties, into her flesh, and groaned.
She dug her fingers into his hair and looked into his smoldering gaze. “I don’t want you to stop.”
“You are incredible,” Destin said, accenting his words with another squeeze, worship in his voice. Sliding his fingers to her sides, he slid her panties over her hips and down her thighs to her calves, steadying her as she lifted one leg, then the other. In a bold move, he scrunched the fabric in his hand, brought it to his face and inhaled.
Her lips parted as lust shot down her spine, making her ache and throb between her legs.
“Like wine, I knew it,” he gritted out, letting the panties fall to the floor. “Spread your legs.”
He teased her with his fingers first, probing, exploring, his gaze repeatedly flicking to hers to gauge her reaction. She stood still, her breathing shallow, her lids fluttering against the onslaught of sensation.
Her breath caught at the first slick glide of his tongue. His moan ended on a sigh, and her hips surged forward, reaching for him when he pulled back. His palms grabbed her hips and held her in place as he reached for her again, tasting and teasing, nipping and sucking, tormenting her as she got closer and closer to the edge.
Her eyes drifted shut, and she let out a moan before his name drifted from her lips into the darkness.
“Destin...” she panted.
“Stay with me.” As if she’d go anywhere.
Her eyes flew open when he lifted her onto the bed. He eased up her body. Shifting so she didn’t take his full weight, he kissed her fully, thoroughly, consuming her as if he were dying of thirst, and she was water and wine. Her body undulated under his and her fingers locked in his hair. His lips found her shoulder, her throat and the swell of her breasts.
Her nipple tingled under the warmth of his breath and the tickle of his beard. She moaned when he took her fully into his mouth and then transferred his attentions to the other breast. She arched under him, begging for the velvet smoothness of his tongue.
Destin shifted again and came back to take her lips in a series of slow, soft kisses. Her pulse hammered and her body felt like a battery, charged and ready. Gripping his back, she wound her legs around his waist in invitation. He broke their kiss and smiled, a wicked, devilish smile that had her blood thickening in her veins. Without letting go of her, he reached into the nightstand for a condom, took her mouth in a kiss, then drove himself inside of her with a series of measured, rhythmic thrusts that had her breaking his kiss and whispering his name.
She’d never made love like this. Never. He drove himself deep, growling low in his throat, rocking her into the bed. She couldn’t think, gasped for breath in her lungs, was overwhelmed by the thick, heavy feel of him, and the relentless, unyielding surge of his hips. She wanted to stay there forever.
Another moan ripped from her throat, and her body trembled under his. He shifted, releasing her mouth, staring down at her, his breathing harsher. He was close. She was, too; her nipples ached against his chest. She felt his rhythm shift, felt the increased passion of his kiss. He slid his hand under her and pulled her up to meet him. It was dizzying—every stroke brought her closer, every thrust took her higher.
“Look at me,” he grunted.
Her cloudy gaze caught his. Their pleasure built, then burst. He gripped her, and she him. Her body shook around him, stretched taut, then finally released. Destin pumped furiously, his arms locked around her, kissing her through every wave of their simultaneous climax.
* * *
Nicole lay awake under the luxurious sheet, warm and contently tucked into the crook of Destin’s arm. He slept on his back, his breathing silent, and the rise and fall of his chest was slight and even.
Her body was still humming. Maybe that was why she couldn’t sleep. No, that wasn’t it. Clay’s words were haunting her. Nobody wants it more than me. Clay was her sure thing when she was out to sell the land, but now her feelings had changed.
She’d been a lawyer long enough to know that family business disputes were rarely just about business; they were about sorting out old issues of rivalry and dominance. If Destin and his father were locked in a room for twenty-four hours, would this rift go away? Could Destin keep what was rightfully his? The ceiling had
provided no answers.
“Hey.” He propped himself on his elbow and captured her lips in a soft kiss. “You’re awake.”
“Can’t sleep.”
He deepened the kiss, his thumb grazing her jawline and his thigh slipping between her legs to get closer. He broke the kiss and studied her face. “Everything okay?”
She nodded but lowered her head, afraid he’d see her thoughts.
He softly lifted her chin with his knuckle. “Are you having regrets?”
“No. God no.” She snuggled closer.
“Then what?”
She opened her mouth but nothing would come out. His hands came around her face and he rolled up to kiss her again. “The moonlight can be blinding. I’ll close the curtain if—”
“That’s not it,” she whispered. He caressed her cheek, waiting patiently, his eyes imploring her to trust him. “What if you and your father talked things—”
With an exasperated, sigh, Destin rolled onto his back. “It won’t help, Nicole. I’ve tried so many times. Once my mother passed away he became a tyrant. Really, the only person that could talk to him after that was...” he paused “... Nina.”
Destin was blinking up at the ceiling, the moon outlining a stoic look on his face. He was thinking of the fire.
Nicole swallowed. “Destin...what happened?” He was silent for a long moment. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.” There was more silence, and then he began to speak.
“We had a break-in in the main house. Nina kept oil lamps in each room. We used them for power outages mostly, but she would light one for me in the foyer by the door when I worked after dark. I had fallen asleep on the couch in the cellar. Magnus was barking when I woke. I remember thinking he must have seen a rabbit, he was so excited. When I opened the door, the house was engulfed in flames.”
Nicole stayed silent, but her heart beat in her ears as he continued in a low whisper.
“I ran around the front and the back, trying to find a space to get in. I broke through a side window and ran to the bedroom.” His voice caught. “I was too late. The police had conducted an investigation and concluded a lamp had been knocked over. There seemed to be evidence that someone tried to put it out, but they couldn’t find any leads on the intruder.”
Nicole swiped at a few tears. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
Destin rolled up onto his elbow and cupped her face.
“Please don’t cry.”
“I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, I’m glad you did,” he said into her eyes. “I think I’ve been wanting to share that with you. It’s not something I talk about, but I wanted you to know. It says something.”
“What does it say?”
“That maybe I’m not dead inside like I thought I was. I will always love Nina, but I’m ready to have a life again. You’ve brought me out of a living coma.”
Destin kissed her tears as she tried to get control of her emotions. They held on to each other for a long moment, kissing and touching.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” Nicole said.
Destin brushed her tousled hair from her face. “I’ve been thinking. Back at the château when I asked you about children, I made you upset. I wondered what that was about.”
She blinked, suddenly feeling defective. “I told you, you can’t always have everything you want—that’s life.”
“I’m not judging you, Nicole.”
She took a deep breath. He’d bared his soul and now she was crawling back into her shell? No, he deserved an answer.
“I know that.” Her voice calmed. “Actually, I’ve been in the process of adopting a child. I’d like a daughter. It’s been hard because they have all of these rules, which become even more important when you are single.” The word turned to ice on her tongue. “Financial stability, a home with a room for the child, access to a nanny, etc. And it can take years for a family to pick you. Everything has to look perfect on paper. Right now, I don’t look perfect. A one-bedroom apartment, with no man and no parents, doesn’t scream stable home.”
“You look perfect to me,” he said, his gaze softened. “And I think you’d make a good mother. You’re strong.” More tears came so quick, she was embarrassed to let him see, but he wouldn’t let her pull away.
No one had ever said such beautiful things to her before. No one. He held her for a long moment, placing kisses in her hair. Nicole’s head came up and she gently pushed him onto his back. “Destin, I...” His hand came up to her face. And she lost her nerve. “Make love to me again.”
In one powerful motion, he smoothed a hand under her bottom and lifted her over his body. They both moaned when she eased slowly down onto him. “Destin,” she whispered over him...
Chapter 19
Destin woke to find himself awash in the hot Brazilian sunlight, caught in a tangle of sheets and Nicole’s gorgeous limbs. He didn’t need a watch to know it was late morning. Nicole’s breathing was even on his chest, and he shifted his head to gaze at her sleeping form. She must be exhausted, he thought. He smiled. He was, too, and yet as he gazed at her long exposed legs, he debated kissing her awake and hitching those legs on his back until well into the afternoon.
No, she needed to sleep. He raised his eyebrow and grinned. It would give her a fighting chance against him later. Carefully slipping out from under her, he rolled from the bed and closed the curtains. Turning, he saw Magnus in the doorway, ready and waiting for his breakfast.
Destin tossed on his lounge pants, gently closed the bedroom door and shuffled into the kitchen. Magnus’s kibble pounded into the metal bowl and set off a hammering in Destin’s temples. He needed to crawl back into bed with his woman.
They’d crossed a threshold last night. Shared things. They’d been intimate, in more ways than one. He wanted to know more about her, wanted to know everything.
He poured water into Magnus’s other bowl, then downed a glass himself. All he could taste was her. They’d made love in multiple positions until morning, and the images were burned into his psyche. He was getting turned on just thinking about it. That’s all it took. A single thought.
Destin turned toward the bedroom, but stopped when he heard a loud knock on the door. Magnus let out a gruff bark.
“Destin?” came his brother’s muffled voice.
What was he doing here? Destin glanced at the bedroom door, debating whether to let Elliot in. Another knock.
“Destin, we’re coming in.”
We? Suddenly a key was shoved into the lock. The only other person who had keys was...merde! Destin walked to the foyer and watched in horror as his father’s small, yet formidable form came through the door. The cane Armand carried held the gold Dechamps crest. Elliot’s lean frame followed, mouthing an apology over their father’s head.
“You didn’t answer the door,” his father said in his signature monotone. Armand stopped and leaned on his cane, his focus on the women’s shoes in the middle of the foyer. His silver head swiveled up to Destin’s half-dressed body, and he let out a heavy sigh of exasperation.
“Bonjour Father. Elliot.” Destin followed them into the living room and placed himself so he could keep an eye on the bedroom door.
Elliot stood next to his father. His gaze swung from the women’s heels to the closed bedroom door. Destin met Elliot’s knowing look with his own defiant stare.
Nicole could wake at any moment. He had to get them out of there.
“You’re still sleeping,” Armand cleared his throat. “Have we disturbed you?”
“Surprised me, more like. It’s good to see you, of course. But whatever this is, can it wait till later?”
“We’ve accepted an offer. Our agent, Miss Parks, was quite industrious in securing a generous offer from The Texas Casino company. I’ve spoken to Mr. Winchester, and we’ve agreed to close in thirty
days.”
Destin’s heart stopped. His gaze slid to Elliot, who was staring at him with genuine concern as his father rattled on.
“We are meeting as a board tomorrow at noon to properly vote and sign the paperwork so Miss Parks can begin finishing the deal. I have yet to meet her in person, but Elliot speaks quite highly. Have you met her?”
Destin swallowed, trying to find his voice. “Yes.”
“Good. Tomorrow, then. We can discuss your coming back to France, then, as well.”
Destin froze, swallowing the urge to raise his voice. “You said you’d give me time.”
“You’ve had time. I can wait no longer.”
“Thirty million.” Destin was clumsy in his delivery, he knew, but he was having trouble keeping his cool.
“Not good enough.”
“Thirty-five!” He didn’t have it, but he’d get it. Somehow.
“The casino is at sixty.”
Destin’s mouth dropped and the oxygen seemed to leave his lungs. That was over the asking price. “I’m your son!”
“And you should be running our winery in France!” Armand smacked his cane on the floor for emphasis. Then he composed himself and continued in an even tone. “Tomorrow we will finish this.”
“You don’t need my vote. You have control.”
“Yes, but I want your concession, in case you decide to sue me again.”
His father’s cane struck the kitchen floor as he hurried out. “And if you don’t show, consider yourself fired from the board. The deal can still go through without you. And Destin—” His father turned back around. “Tomorrow we will discuss the cellar.”
Destin couldn’t think of anything to say. He couldn’t think at all.
Elliot came forward and grabbed his shoulders, murmuring so their father couldn’t hear. “I’m sorry. I tried. Have Nicole call me when she wakes.”
“She said they hadn’t made an offer,” he whispered.
“It wasn’t a formal offer, they were still in negotiations. There was a number but it was contingent upon seeing the wine cellar. But when Mr. Winchester couldn’t get a hold of Nicole last night, he called Father directly. Father was already in Brazil. That’s all I know so far. Make sure she calls me.”