“Everyone here thinks my pictures are happy.”
She shrugged. “Everyone here is probably on uppers.” She froze and turned back to him. “Sorry, that was callous.”
He waved a hand and leaned forward. “And probably true, to some extent.” He said with a smile before pointing to the painting. “So tell me why this one is happy and the others aren’t.”
Shayla motioned to the painting. “There’s nothing hidden in the background, that I can see, which shows the underlying hypocrisy of the world. All of your other paintings show what people want to see in small town America, but you sneak in the story behind that picturesque scene. The fakeness of it all.”
His dark gazed bore into her. She tried not to appear unnerved and met his gaze dead on. “Do you have a problem with that? The hypocrisy I show in my other paintings?”
She frowned. “Why would I? It’s true. It’s life.”
He nodded slowly. “True, but most people call me a cynic for adding that to my landscapes.”
Shayla sighed and looked back at the painting. “Most people go through life pretending as if unhappiness didn’t exist.”
Again he studied her before saying. “I paint these scenes to show that outside perfection often hides inner turmoil. I’ve found people either love it or hate it.”
Shayla looked around the crowded room. “I’d say most people love it.”
He shrugged. “They love to see a senator’s son-in-law indulge in his little art hobby.” He leaned in and smiled. “Behind their wine glasses they’re calling me a skeptic. They’re trying to figure out why I paint such unhappy pictures when I live such a wonderful life.”
Shayla returned his smile. “I’d gather from these paintings your life isn’t as wonderful as they all believe.”
He gasped with mock horror. “Are you implying I don’t love my charmed life?”
Shayla bit her lip and really looked at him. He was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There were small lines around his mouth, proof he used to laugh a lot, but now his smiled was guarded. He was someone used to holding his feelings in check. Someone who used their face as a mask.
“Let’s just say I recognize a kindred spirit,” she said.
His eyes traveled over her and he shook his head. “I thought I recognized something special about you.”
His perusal sent an unwelcome shiver down her spine. As much as she was enjoying their conversation, it was time to pump the brakes. She wasn’t about to go back down the road of mistress to a politician. “There’s nothing special about me.” She took a small step back. “The kindred spirit comment was just a joke.”
He threw back his head and laughed. A few people next to them turned, surprise evident on their faces. When he stopped, he held up his left hand. “There’s no hidden meaning behind my words. I’m married, unhappily maybe, but married.”
She didn’t relax. “I’ve heard that line before.”
“I’m sure you have, and while I won’t lie and say I’m not flattered that you thought I was hitting on you, I will have to set the record straight.” All humor left his eyes. “As much as I hate pretending to live the life of a happily married politician’s son, I can’t afford to embarrass my daughter.” He stared back at the beach scene. “She’s the reason I stay. The reason I play the game.”
The sincerity and pain in his voice hit her. She’d had every slick man in Atlanta try to run game on her. Unfortunately, she fell for the game of the wrong one, but for some reason she believed Tyrell. She knew what it was like, to smile on the outside and want to die on the inside. She’d done it for years.
“It sucks doesn’t it? To experience happiness but know you’ll never have it?”
He grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to her. “At least we knew it for a few stolen moments.” He stared wistfully at the painting.
Shayla looked at the profile of the woman in the painting and then back at Tyrell. “Is that her? The one who made you happy?”
He downed his champagne in one swallow. “Yes. That’s why this one is happy. I painted it years ago.”
“Why isn’t it one of your favorites?”
His eyes met hers. “Because it’s too painful to look at. Hopefully someone will buy the damn thing tonight.”
Her lips lifted in a soft smile. She liked him. Not in a sexual way, but as a potential friend. If she were dumb enough to befriend a high profile man. He smiled back before he looked over her shoulder. His smile quickly changed. Became tighter around the corners and the warmth in his eyes disappeared. The game was back on.
At the same time her scalp prickled. Someone watched her. When she turned around her gaze collided with Devin’s across the room. The desire, anger and frustration in his eyes zeroed in on her, sucking the air from her lungs and causing her to forget everyone else around them. His hunger called to her, and for the life of her she couldn’t remember why she continued to fight her need.
“It looks as if your happiness has arrived.” Tyrell spoke, jerking her from her spell.
She blinked rapidly to clear her mind. When she looked at Tyrell he smiled. “From the looks he’s shooting my way, I’d better make a quick exit. Have a good night … ” he held out his hand and lifted an eyebrow.
“Shayla,” she said shaking his hand.
“Goodnight, Shayla.” He dipped his head and glided away.
She turned back to Devin. Her stomach quivered as he crossed the room. His eyes never left hers and she didn’t know whether to run or stay. One hand clenched the champagne flute, the other tapped against her leg as he stalked toward her.
When he was in front of her she couldn’t speak. She stared into his eyes, the gold flashed dangerously within their depths. His warmth and scent surrounded her. A woodsy mix of bodywash and him.
Instead of being frightened, or upset by his anger, she was turned on. Her breathing hitched as anticipation danced across her skin.
“Are you here for him?” his voice was low, but urgent.
She quickly shook her head. “No.”
Relief flashed in his eyes, but the frustration and desire remained. “I’m not tap dancing around this anymore.” He stepped close enough for her breasts to brush against his chest. She gasped at the touch. “We’re leaving.”
She swallowed. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere with a bed.” He held out his hand.
If she went she betrayed her cousin. She would prove to everyone she was the selfish whore they all considered her to be. Her mom would hate her. The blissful peacefulness she’d found in Helena would be shattered.
But if she didn’t go, she’d betray herself. And if he was here instead of with Kia, that had to mean the date had been brief. She hated herself for hoping it had been a disaster.
She placed her hand in his. When his warm fingers wrapped around hers she wanted to cry with happiness. Instead she lowered her eyes so he wouldn’t see how ecstatic she was and let him lead her out of the building.
Chapter 21
Shayla didn’t remember what happened between Devin leading her from the art show to him walking her into a room at the Marriot downtown. Frankly, she didn’t care about any of that when he pulled her against him and closed the door behind them. He walked backward toward the bed. One hand held firmly but gently onto her waist, the other cupped her face. His gaze held hers captive, his brown eyes lighter with the fire of his desire.
He stopped when the backs of his legs bumped into the bed. The hand on her cheek moved to run through her hair. Each individual strand tugging against her scalp sent an answering jolt of anticipation through her. It was hard to breath, her breasts were heavy, and the liquid proof of her desire dampened her panties.
He slowly pulled her head forward until their lips met. All of t
he craving and frustration she’d held in check for the past few weeks rushed to the surface. Instantly, her hands were up and diving into the soft curls on his head.
She pulled back, her hands still running through his hair. “When was your last haircut?”
“Not since you mentioned liking it longer.”
Her heart constricted. No declaration or love or flowery phrases would have made her forget all of the repercussions of this night like those simple words. The extra hair on his head was a far cry from the afro she braided in high school, but it still lent him a more relaxed air. The soft tresses on her fingers were as much of an aphrodisiac to her now as it had been then.
She opened her mouth to tell him she loved him. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but for all of Devin’s promises that he wanted to be with her, he hadn’t said for how long, or that he felt the same.
“I love it,” she said instead. His lips spread into a grin. The fullness of the lower one set her insides on fire. She twisted her hands in his hair. “It’s sexy.”
He pushed her back just enough to let his approving gaze roam over her body. “Not as sexy as you are in that dress.”
“Wait until I’m out of it.”
He pulled her back against his hard body, his demanding mouth taking claim of hers. She met his hard kiss head on, delighted by same urgency in him. The cool air in the room teased her back as he unzipped her dress. She shivered from the shocking heat of his wide hand as it dove beneath the fabric to gently massage the taut muscles in her back.
His lips stayed on hers and his other hand left the thick tresses of her hair to push down the one strap of her dress. She had to drop her hands from his head to let it fall, but quickly returned them to their exploration as soon as it hit the floor. His powerful arms engulfed her in a hug as he continued to kiss her. Her senses were inflamed; the protective gesture combined with his kiss sending her over the edge. His thick erection pressed heavily against her belly, but that wasn’t where she wanted it. She wrapped a leg around his waist, getting his hardness closer to her dripping wet center.
In a flash, he spun her around until her knees were against the back of the bed. He broke the kiss and Shayla stared at him in a daze. He slowly turned her back to him and unfastened her strapless bra. She sighed in pleasure when her breasts were released from the confines, and again when his strong hands kneaded the throbbing flesh. He gently brushed her erect nipples, sending another torrent of desire flowing between her thighs. His fingertips danced across the oversensitive skin of her belly to the top of her thong. His forefingers hooked into the edges of the skimpy material before continuing his slow descent down her body. After she stepped out of the underwear, he pressed a soft kiss the dip in her back just above her butt before standing and turning her to face him.
“You’re so beautiful, Shayla.”
Goose pimples shivered across her skin. She wanted him. Not just tonight, and not just physically, but she wanted Devin Jones to belong to her. It was a silly dream, one that would alienate her from everyone in her family for years if it came true, but when he looked at her as if she were the most wonderful treasure in the world, it all seemed worth it.
Without a word, she reached out and pulled the bottom of his sweater up and over his head. She ran her hands across his sinewy frame, delighting in the way his body jerked and his breathing caught whenever she dragged her nails across his golden flesh. Lowering her head she kissed the center of his chest, the light brushing of hair tickling her lips. His hands smoothed the curtain of her hair away from her face as she traced her tongue from one of his hard nipples to the other. Lightly flicking the pink tip across each one until his breathing became haggard. She took her time to suck one flat nipple while her hands busied themselves with unbuttoning his pants. She didn’t waste any time pushing them down his trim waist.
She looked at his wonderful dick. Long, thick, and dripping with his desire. Slowly, she lowered to her knees hoping he wouldn’t stop her as he had before. Instead, he pulled her hair back and held it in one hand at the base of her neck. Without hesitation, she took the swollen head into her mouth. His precum was sweet, like the pineapple he loved, and she couldn’t get enough of it. She pulled him deep within her mouth. Then slowly worked her way back up to the blunt head where she sucked out more evidence of his desire, before repeating the motion. He worked his hips back and forth, making love to her mouth and causing her own body to thrum with desire. Her excitement flowed down her leg, and with each thrust she grew more aroused as she imagined him doing the same within her.
His grip tightened on her hair. His movements increased in frenzy. She wanted him to come, wanted to suck him dry and celebrate in the victory of having him tremble just from the actions of her mouth. But he quickly pulled out. Gasping for breath he reached down and pulled her up, taking her lips in a searing kiss that doused any complaints she may have made. One of his hands plunged in her hair, the other reached down to part the swollen folds of her sex. His finger sunk into her creamy wetness and she gasped. His mouth left hers to suck on the sensitive flesh where her neck and shoulder met. He pushed another long finger within her and she moved up and down, craving the release that was hovering in the distance.
Quickly, he pushed her back onto the bed. He grabbed his pants off the floor and dug out a condom which he quickly put on. Her legs dangled on the edge and he spread them wide. Using two fingers he rubbed both sides of her swollen clit, causing her to clutch the duvet. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, she spread her legs wider, and rotated her hips. His other hand ran up her body to gently grasp her chin. She opened her eyes only a slit, but it was enough to see the claim within his.
“I don’t care what happened before,” he said softly. “But you, this — ” he slid two thick fingers within her wetness and she clenched her walls around them “ — is mine.”
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Good.” His fingers slipped out of her and he thrust his rock hard dick within her before she could utter a complaint.
Her breath came out in a hiss, and she reached up for him.
His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her further up on the bed. Again it was perfect. The softness of her breasts absorbed the hardness of his chest. The heat from his skin matched the heat of hers. Her wet core contracted and hugged his rigid flesh with the comfort of a glove. He began the same slow, deliberate strokes, the same pleasurable rotation of his hips as before, each slippery glide creating an exquisite pleasure inside of her. It didn’t take long for her to near the peak. Arousal had been her constant companion since the day on the back of his truck. With each solid plunge she cried out. Louder, and louder until she finally shattered and clung to him. Tears filled her eyes. Tears of joy, pleasure, and contentment. His body tensed, he pulled back but she clenched her legs around his waist and contracted the muscles of her sex around his solid shaft. He yelled out. She joined in as the warmth of his orgasm burst and spread within her.
• • •
Devin tried to catch his breath. His face was buried in the space between her neck and shoulder. Already her scent mixed with his cologne, an intoxicating concoction that would haunt him for the next few days. A late spasm from her climax flexed around his now semi-hard penis, sending a rush of satisfaction through him. He could lose himself within her and fall asleep with her body wrapped around him forever. But would she want the same?
He lifted his head. Once again tears were streaming down her face. Concern for her quickly pushed aside his doubts.
He wiped the tears off her cheek. “What’s wrong?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Nothing. That was … perfect.”
“Twice you’ve cried. I’m beginning to think my performance is bad.”
Her eyes widened and she reached up to run her fingers through his hair. Desire flexed within him when her hands gripped his hair. H
e was too old for braids, but he was beginning to reconsider ever cutting his hair again.
“Your performance was excellent.” she said.
He leaned down to rub her nose with his. “Then why the tears?”
She sighed. “Because I’m so happy when I’m with you.” She lowered her lids, avoiding his gaze.
He lifted her chin with a crooked forefinger. “I’m happy with you, too,” he said when her eyes met his.
Her full lips spread in a smile that warmed his heart far more than he wished it did. He’d loved Shayla once, and if he didn’t remember that she planned to leave town one day, he’d blurt out that he was still in love with her like a fool.
Forgetting the fact that she hated living in Helena, he kissed her. Letting the memory of her body against his, and the feel of her lips while he was still buried deep within her flood his senses for easy recall after she left.
He broke off the kiss. A look of contentment enhanced the exotic flare of her eyes. To his utter satisfaction, she continued to play with the hair on his head. “I’m not hiding what’s between us anymore. While you’re in town, you’re with me.”
Her hand dropped from his head and she looked away. “It’s not that easy.”
He turned her face back to his. Pushing back his frustration as he tried to remember not to push or judge her. “Tell me why it isn’t.”
“Devin, my life has finally gotten easier in Helena. My mom actually looks me in the eye. The people at the church are listening to my ideas, and people are no longer treating me like I’m there to steal their husbands. It’s nice. And I know you’re not supposed to admit to caring what other people think, but after years of having people look at me like I’m just like my dad, it’s good to have them view me as a productive member of society.”
“How is dating me going to change that?”
“You should have seen how happy my mom and Aunt Linda were when Kia told them about your date. They practically danced on my mom’s porch. If I came home tomorrow and announced that you were my man, they’d think I set out to steal you on purpose.”
Southern Love Page 66