“Are you all right?”
Michelle blushed under his gaze and nodded. She rested her head against his shoulder and let herself be held in the haven of his arms.
When she could breathe normally again, Michelle lifted her head and kissed Rashad’s lips. No one had ever made her feel this way or this much, and she didn’t know how to convey the feelings that inundated her. Being with this man let her reclaim her sensuality, let her experience her sexuality.
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much.”
“One, stop thanking me. I loved doing that. And two, we’re not done yet. Are we?”
Michelle ran her hand along the front of Rashad’s jeans and felt his manhood.
“Not by far.”
“Thank goodness,” he said. “Because you’ve turned me on so much that I’m ready to explode.” He laughed.
“I can fix that,” she said.
Michelle took Rashad’s hand and led him to the bed. He stopped at the dresser to get a condom and then followed her lead. She took his clothes off, kissing his body as it was revealed. The firmness of his chest and shoulders and thighs was making her feel sexy again, and when she rolled the condom onto him, she could feel her moisture flowing again.
She patted the bed for him to lie down and pressed his shoulders back, settling him onto the bed.
Then she climbed onto the bed, still wearing her heels, and straddled his thighs.
His back arched and his hips bucked as she began gyrating over his body. She bent down to kiss him briefly and then leaned up to rock up and down along his length. When she brushed her breasts across his chest, he murmured and twisted. She dragged herself down his torso to nibble at his nipples, and he groaned, thrusting upward.
His pleasure and the feel of his sex against hers had excited her again, and when she was ready, she unsnapped the crotch of her teddy and lowered herself onto him. He filled her with delight, and she felt him arching toward her in the midst of his own pleasure.
He reached up for her breasts, and she bent down for his lips. His hands grasped her hips and began moving her upon his sex. He called her name, and his thighs tensed. He called her name, and his thrusts became short and hard. He called her name, and his breaths became heavy and labored.
Her body tightened around his, and she felt the first waves of her release ripping through her. She moaned and rocked upon him.
His body tensed and began to shake, and he poured upward into her, all his pent-up desire thundering through him.
After their bodies calmed, Rashad removed the condom and covered them. Michelle spent the night in the harbor of his arms, their bodies pressed together, their fingers woven into one. How she adored this man.
Yet, being with her was exposing him to danger. The contradiction didn’t escape her thoughts, not even as she began to drift. What they shared was something she’d only dreamed of, but it couldn’t erase her past. Could it close that black hole? Could she?
Chapter 18
Rashad applied his Ferragamo pour Homme cologne and some lip balm and was finished in the bathroom. He wrapped a towel around his waist and padded into his room for clothes. Tonight was special, not only because it was just a couple of days until Christmas but also because he had made a decision, and he was acting on it tonight.
He took his two-button, navy Brooks Brothers suit out of the closet and laid it on the bed. It was his Madison Saxxon Herringbone 1818, and it was one of his best. He selected a striped Oxford button-down dress shirt to go with it and pulled an undershirt out of his dresser, along with a pair of boxer briefs and navy socks. He tossed those on his bed and started pulling on his underwear.
He was seeing Michelle tonight, and he wanted it to be special, as special as it had been when she’d stepped out of his bathroom in a white teddy and two-inch heels, as special as it was when she smiled at him. He wanted that smile around him every day.
Rashad buttoned up his shirt, stepped into his trousers and found his navy-and-black-checked tie. He put on the tie and sat down in his armchair to pull on his socks and his black calfskin wing tip shoes. He got his good black leather belt from the rack and threaded it through the hoops along his waist. He tossed the towel in the hamper and went to his dresser. Shaka had come in and now followed him, getting between his legs. He picked up his little Yorkie, rubbed his head and put him on the newly vacated armchair.
He’d been thinking more and more about it, more and more about her, more and more about them—Michelle and Andre. He loved the woman. There was no denying it. And he adored Andre. Everything in him wanted to protect them and keep them safe. This simple, unadulterated urge had overcome any hesitation he had had over getting serious with a woman, over committing to a relationship, over thinking about marriage.
Rashad emptied the dish he kept on his dresser into his palm and dropped the contents on his bed. He plopped down beside the little pile and put on his class ring, his gold tie clip, his curb link gold chain and his Invicta watch. The rest of the pile he scooped back up and returned to the dish.
Rashad took a final look in the mirror above his dresser, confident in his decision. He wanted Michelle to marry him, and he wanted to raise Andre as his own. She may have defied his initial expectations, but those had been long rewritten. She was the perfect fit.
On the nightstand next to his wallet sat a small black jewelry box. He grabbed them both and headed downstairs.
Shaka had yelped at his departure and then followed him downstairs. At the chime of the doorbell, Shaka bolted to the foyer. Rashad put the jewelry box in the candy dish on his end table; they would be going out first. He grabbed his overcoat and met Michelle at the door.
Michelle drove them to Georgetown, where they parked and walked to 1789, the restaurant Rashad had chosen.
Michelle took off her long winter coat. She had on a navy skirt suit. It fit close to her body and had a ruffle at the hem of the blazer that spread out over her hips. She had on black pumps and carried a black pocketbook. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, and she wore a string of blue pearls and blue pearl stud earrings. Her makeup was done to perfection, and the smile on her face set off everything else. She looked like every fantasy he had ever had.
Michelle ordered the lamb leg, and Rashad got the duck breast. They needed help with the wine selection but ended up with the perfect matches for their meals.
“If you’re still going home for Christmas,” Rashad said, “I need to give you your presents to take with you when we get home tonight—yours and Andre’s.”
“I’m not going home. I talked to my parents yesterday, and we all pretty much figure that Lucius will be back in Charleston for the holiday.”
He covered her hand with his, and she linked their fingers.
“It’s just best for me and Andre if we stay here,” she said.
“Then come home with me to Baltimore. I want to be with you on Christmas, and Andre can meet my nieces and nephews. They’ll have a great time together. We can stay over with my parents and unwrap presents in the morning. I would love for us to be together.”
She hesitated.
“I already have plans to spend the day with Regina and Nigel. Let me check with them before I say yes. I don’t want to be ungrateful to them. And we’re family—they might have feelings about me ditching them on the holidays.”
“Check with them, and if they have to have you there, then we can house hop. We can go to my parents tomorrow, open presents Christmas morning and both get to Nigel’s in time for lunch or dinner.”
Michelle smiled at that.
“Okay, let me check.”
He loved her smile and couldn’t help returning it, especially knowing that they would be with his family for Christmas. He had really wanted that.
He ran his fingers o
ver hers, wondering if he should have brought the ring. He could have proposed at the restaurant. But then he wanted it to be a private moment. He wanted to be able to kiss her afterward, take her in his arms, make love to her. He wanted it to be...special.
After dinner they went to Blues Alley to listen to some jazz. It was two days until Christmas, so there were jazz arrangements of Christmas songs mixed in throughout the traditional jazz selections. Michelle watched the bandstand, but Rashad was looking at her. She was crazy gorgeous. He couldn’t keep from touching her, even if it was just his palm to her back or his hand over hers. It was even better knowing that she was the one whose hand he would be touching for the rest of his life—he hoped.
They each had a glass of wine, and then they danced to a set.
“You know,” Rashad said, “I have to find a club to take you to one day. I have to see the wild girl.”
Michelle backed up from him, still holding his hand, and did a couple of club moves before cracking up. Rashad loved it.
“Yes,” he said. “We’re definitely going.”
“Let’s do a club for New Year’s,” she suggested. “I haven’t been in forever, though, so be forewarned. I may embarrass you.”
“Never.”
“Aw,” she said. She cupped his jaw and kissed him. “Thank you.”
“You’ve got to stop thanking me.”
“But I do. Look, I’m out in D.C. at a jazz club. I have a life. And I even know how to get here now.”
They both laughed.
“You’ve given me a life, too,” he said.
He was thinking that he wanted that life—his life with her—until the day he died. He didn’t say that, but he sighed.
“See,” she said. “See how sweet you are. Thank you.”
“Stop it.”
I love you, Rashad thought. But he only gazed into her eyes.
“Hey,” Michelle said. “If I’m going to see your parents, I need to bring them something.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. I’m from the South, and when we go visit people, we bring something. It’s a sign you were raised well. What can I get them? Do they drink wine?”
“How about a bottle of champagne to usher in the New Year? We can stop on the way up.”
“Perfect.”
When the music turned slow, Michelle stepped toward him. Rashad took her in his arms, and her hands went to his shoulders. He felt proud to have her in his arms, blessed to have her gaze on his face. He was also excited to have her body sway against his. As she moved with him, he felt himself grow heady and hot.
She could probably see the passion in his face. He knew she could feel that he was becoming aroused. He stepped back to give her space, but she stepped toward him, bringing herself harder against him. She ran her cheek against his jaw and then closed her eyes and kissed his lips. Damn, this woman made him yearn.
He wanted her right then, wanted to toy with her until she was the one wanting to lose control, but he settled for the sweet agony she stirred inside him. He settled for the thought that tonight she really would be his. He hoped.
“I can’t wait to make love to you,” he whispered against her ear.
“Soon,” she said, and they both smiled.
They walked the long way back to her car. Rashad needed the time to cool down a bit, and she seemed to want a stroll. They took in some of the shops along the main strip and then cut up toward the car.
Michelle drove them home, and Rashad let them in. He let Shaka out for a little while and then left him in the kitchen with a cluster of dog treats lining his dinner bowl. He came to the living room to find Michelle standing in front of one of his paintings.
He stepped up behind her, put his arms around her waist and kissed the side of her head. He wanted to run his hands down the front of her blazer and up the hem of her skirt, but he put such thoughts aside to focus on the moment at hand. This was one of the most important moments of his life, and he wanted it to be special.
“I need to talk to you,” he said.
“Okay. Is everything all right?”
“Everything is perfect. Come sit on the couch.”
Rashad guided Michelle to the couch, and when she had taken a seat, he took a breath, kneeled down in front of her on one knee and took one of her hands in one of his. He picked up the candy bowl from the end table and held it in front of her.
“Would you like a piece of candy?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
He smiled and held the bowl closer to her.
“Are you sure? They’re chocolate, and one of them is calling your name.”
She finally looked at the bowl. On top of the bed of Hershey’s Kisses with Almonds wrapped in gold foil sat the black jewelry box.
“What’s this?” she asked, picking out the box. “It’s not Christmas yet.”
He just smiled until she opened it. Inside she found a one-and-a-half-carat diamond solitaire set in fourteen-karat yellow gold.
Her mouth fell open, and she looked back at him.
“Michelle, I love you. You are exactly what I’ve always waited for. And I love Andre. I want to be there for both of you, protect both of you, be with both of you. I’ve never loved anyone this way—ever. I want Andre to be my son, and I want you to be my wife. And I can only promise that I’ll never stop loving you, and I’ll never stop wanting you, and I’ll never stop trying to please you, and I’ll never need anyone else. If you love me, please be my wife. Michelle Johns, will you marry me?”
Tears had come to Michelle’s eyes as he spoke, and she clutched the box to her chest and squeezed his hand. Rashad held his breath and waited.
She didn’t say anything for a long while. Then the tears that had welled up in her eyes dripped down. She started shaking her head.
“I can’t.... We can’t....” She was searching for words. “It would...”
“It would what, Michelle? Tell me.”
“It would be a mess. It already is a mess. There’s a maniac in my life who’s already pointed a gun at you—a gun, Rashad. It wasn’t a toy. We have to look over our shoulders constantly, wondering when he’ll reappear, whether he’ll try to take Andre, what he’ll do next. This will hang over our heads like a guillotine, just as it does now.”
“He’ll be caught, Michelle. This is just temporary.”
“This isn’t going to go away. It might—for one year, two years, three years. And eventually it starts all over again, probably with even more vengeance. It will always be nagging at us. I can’t allow that.”
“Let me help protect you, protect Andre, keep you both—”
“You can’t be there all the time. Nobody can. And I can’t let you think I’d marry you so that Andre and I can be protected or supported.”
“Marry me because you love me. That’s the only reason I’d want you to. Michelle—” he squeezed her hand “—do you love me? Are you in love with me?”
Another set of streaks joined the first set as fresh tears spilled down Michelle’s face.
“That’s not the point. In a way, that doesn’t even matter. If I do love you, I shouldn’t put you in even more danger than I’ve already put you in. If I do love you, I shouldn’t drag you into this black hole with me.”
“Your life isn’t a black hole. And I love being with you. I love you.”
“You’re not getting it. Lucius could have blown off half your head, and I could be visiting you on the coma ward right now. I hate it. I hate that he’s a constant threat to everything that I love, everything that makes me happy. But he is. He is.”
“If that means that you love me, that I make you happy, then marry me. Don’t let him win.”
“I’m trying to be fair,” she said. “And I’m trying to tak
e control of my own life. I have to sort this out and resolve it before I try to build something new with someone else.”
“What we have is already a structure. It’s already furnished and ready to occupy. I would go anywhere we needed to go, do anything that needed—”
“The reason I didn’t come back here after he broke in through the window, the reason I stayed with Nigel and Regina, the main reason—it’s because I didn’t want the situation with Lucius to force this relationship, to turn this into something it wasn’t ready to be. Now I’m getting ready to go meet your parents again.”
Rashad didn’t know what else to say. His world seemed to be falling down, and no words he had seemed able to prop it back up.
“Okay,” he conceded, shaking his head. “Let’s take it slower then.”
“There’s more of a problem here,” Michelle said. “I’ve sent mixed signals, and I need to stop. Until this is over, I can’t be fully there for anyone, and that isn’t fair to you.” Michelle withdrew her hand from his and stood. She handed him the jewelry box she had been clutching to her chest. “I can’t marry you, Rashad. I can’t be your wife. And until I can give myself freely to another person, it’s not fair for me to be with you, to confuse you. I can’t see you anymore.”
She ran to the door while he was trying to figure out how they had even come to the turn they had just taken.
“Michelle,” he called and followed.
She was fumbling with his locks with tears pouring down her face.
“Michelle, wait.”
She undid the last lock, and, without looking at him, she flew from the house.
He watched her get in her car and drive away, toppling the final pillars of his realm.
It was two days before Christmas, and his world had collapsed. Great. She didn’t take his calls or return them, and he finally had to get her cousin’s number from the directory and call him just to make sure that she was okay. He left a message for her to return his call, but of course, she didn’t. Her presents and the things he had gotten for Andre sat piled on his dining table. Not even Andre would get to enjoy his things.
In His Arms Page 17