by A. C. Arthur
Ballard touched her wrists, holding her still.
“You are beautiful and desirable and there’s no other place I’d rather be right now. No other female I’d rather be with,” he told her honestly.
She hadn’t looked up at him while he spoke, hadn’t commented, had actually not moved a muscle.
“Look at me, Janelle.”
She didn’t.
“Look at me.” He spoke a little louder, waited a beat before applying a light jerk of her hands.
She looked up then, her bare shoulders squaring as if she was ready for whatever he was willing to give her, more words of adoration or, to his dismay, even some of abuse. That chain around his heart tightened and he clenched his teeth.
“I want to do this,” she confessed. “I want to be with you and I want it to be good for both of us.”
“Then you and I are all that matter right now. Understand?”
She nodded and gave a nervous smile that grew instantly to a look of pure passion as she moved her hands over his length, slipping the latex down over him, rubbing the pad of her thumb over his tip. Ballard remained still, focusing on the fall of her hair around her shoulders, the curve of her chin, the unsteady sound of her breathing. Anything but her fingers wrapped around him and the threat of losing himself right there in her hands.
When her lips touched his stomach, Ballard’s eyes went wide. She kissed her way upward until she’d traced a hot path up to his pectorals. His hands went to her shoulders as he finally pushed her back so that he could take her lips once more. This time the kiss was a volatile transaction, one accompanied by the impatience of finally joining, finally becoming one.
Janelle lay back on the bed, spreading her legs for him, and Ballard thought he would weep with joy. Instead he clenched his teeth, kneeling between her. He lifted her legs, staring down at her offering, feeling the urge to simply dive in and explore. He owed her more than that, owed them both more than that. So he lifted her legs, let them fall over his shoulders as he lowered himself to her. With a whisper, just a breath away from plump vulva, he spoke her name.
She arched upward with an urgent “Yes.”
His lips touched her then, felt the warmth of her essence against the softest of skin. Knowing one taste was never going to be enough, Ballard kissed up and down, suckling her into his mouth. When her hands grabbed the sides of his head, guiding him, leading him, encouraging him to take more, he did. With a finger, he spread her juicy lips to find the puckered nub of her center. He kissed her there, pulled the nub into his mouth and sucked until prerelease dripped from his tip into the safety of the latex.
She trembled then, went still and called out his name as her release rippled through her. Ballard loved the sound of his name in her voice. He loved the way she held on to him so tightly, as if she thought he might stop the delicious torture. He loved the way her arousal tasted against the back of his throat. And when he pulled back, placed the head of his engorged erection to the moistness of her opening, Ballard thought he might die if he didn’t feel her wrapped securely, hotly, desperately around him.
Sliding into Janelle was a mixture of pleasure and pain—pleasure in that Ballard was sure he’d never felt anything as tight and as sweet as being buried deep inside her. Pain because he wanted to stay in this very spot forever but knew that was impossible.
She moved beneath him and they developed a rhythm that played out as beautifully as any classical arrangement. It was a slow and steady pace, an exploration of each other as he pulled out until only the tip was left inside, listened for her little gasp of need, then sank back into her waiting heat once more. He loved when her legs were draped over his shoulders, his depth so much more under his control. She liked when he switched places with her, allowing her to straddle him, to ride him into a complete state of oblivion that he barely escaped from. But he did escape, to pull her up on her knees and enter her from behind. There he held her with one arm wrapped around her stomach as he thrust in and out of her, both of them panting and moaning until she shivered with release and he followed with a guttural moan and a fierceness that he thought might be dangerous for them both.
* * *
“Stay with me,” Ballard whispered after they’d showered and were back in his bed, still naked, blankets pulled up to cover them.
She chuckled. “You already asked that and I agreed. I even went home to get an overnight bag—don’t you remember?”
“I remember,” he replied, cuddling her closer to him because he felt as if she couldn’t get close enough, he couldn’t hold on tight enough. “What I meant to say was, stay with me this weekend. We can hang out here and do something neither of us gets enough time to do—relax. Then I’ll see if I can convince Chef Javier to come and prepare us another scrumptious meal so we won’t have to bother with going to a restaurant. On Sunday there’s dinner at my grandparents’, which I think you’ll enjoy.”
She stiffened for one split second. “I don’t want to alter your plans. I can just rent a car and drive home tomorrow.”
Ballard wasn’t taking no for an answer, but if she wanted him to start trying to convince her, he’d gladly do so. He kissed her bare shoulder, lightly nipped the spot with his teeth and then licked over it. She moaned and he smiled.
“I want you to alter more than my plans,” he admitted.
When she backed her bottom farther into his awakening arousal, Ballard smiled.
“How about we work on altering a few more positions right now and talk about tomorrow tomorrow,” she suggested.
Lifting her leg to drape back over his own, Ballard let his hand slip between her legs, sighing when he found her wet and waiting.
“That sounds like an excellent plan,” was his immediate reply. “Sounds like one hell of a plan.”
Chapter 10
As gorgeous as the view from Ballard’s apartment was, Janelle didn’t want to stay inside. Around noon, when he’d kept the television on the movie channels and put the newspaper in the trash can under his kitchen sink, she figured out what he was trying to do. And it was very sweet, but hiding had never been an option for her.
“Let’s go see a movie,” she said finally, getting up off the couch and going into the bedroom.
Ballard was dressed in baggy lounge pants drawn at his slim waist and a T-shirt that displayed every muscle from his perfectly sculpted shoulders to the vein-snaked arms and back to the bulge of his pectorals and his ripped abs. The shirt actually hid nothing and accentuated everything that made her mouth water if she stared at him too long.
“Are you sure? We could get movies on Netflix and order in. I’ve already been in touch with Javier and he said he’d be here around five to get dinner started.”
Janelle had just taken a pair of jeans out of her bag and dropped them onto the bed. “I don’t often get days off, Ballard. And I’m guessing the same goes for you. I want to do something fun, something I haven’t done in a while. Besides, it’s gorgeous outside today. Even a walk along the dock would be great.”
“You know I’ll do whatever you want,” he told her, looking skeptical.
She nodded. “I know and I appreciate your efforts, but I’m not going to stay locked in here just so no one will snap another picture of us and print it. I’m not going to let them win.”
“Is that what you were afraid of? Pictures of us in the paper?”
“Not afraid. Annoyed. I don’t like all that exposure but I know now it’s inevitable,” she replied. “So grab some clothes. We’ll get a shower and head out for the day.”
* * *
The shower lasted longer than either of them anticipated, as about midway through, she’d dropped the soap onto the tiled floor. Bending over to pick it up, Janelle felt Ballard’s hand on her bottom. He rubbed there with soapy hands smoothing over her skin, his slick fingers sli
pping through the crevice to tease and taunt. She attempted to stand up straight but was held in place by his palm to the small of her back. His fingers continued to move, slipping farther between her legs until he found her core, then delving inside. Plastering her palms on the tiled walls, Janelle sucked in a breath and he penetrated her, moving two fingers in and out of her. His other hand found its way around to cup her breast and his teasing continued until she could barely breathe, could barely keep her eyes open. Water pounded onto her back as Ballard continued to move in and out of her. She wanted to call his name, to tell him the plan was to go out, but the words did not come, only gasps of pleasure.
When both his hands went to her waist and then to her bottom, separating her cheeks so that the warm water could stream down and drip from between her legs with her essence, she trembled. Next his erection slipped between her cheeks, the head of his arousal pressing persistently until gliding into her waiting heat. She sucked in a breath and he began to move, pounding into her with almost the same rhythm as the shower water.
Never in her limited sexual experience had Janelle felt this wanton, this uninhibited, with a man. Even last night she’d been afraid of not pleasing Ballard, of not giving him an experience on the level he was used to. She knew he’d been with many women and had most likely experienced much more than she ever had. Janelle had had only two other lovers, including Jack, and neither had been worth writing about.
Ballard’s hand came around to toy with the tight nub of her center while he continued to pump into her and she thought she would lose her mind, the sensations rippling through her were so intense. She wanted to scream with pleasure, yell her release to the entire world. More so, however, she wanted to give Ballard some of the same pleasure she was receiving.
It was a good thing that Ballard’s bathroom was big enough to accommodate a Little League team, his shower stall probably able to fit six people if needed. She moved away from him quickly so he wouldn’t reach for her and turned to see him looking half-dazed at her departure. When he opened his mouth to speak, she moved into him, touching a finger to his lips and making a shushing sound. He closed his lips and she kissed them. She smiled as her next kiss landed on his cheek, then the other cheek, then his chest. Both pectorals and down to his abs, which looked as if they should definitely be photographed and admired on a daily basis. She went lower still, her heart racing with anticipation.
His arousal was hard and long and thick and a little intimidating as she faced it. But when she wrapped her hand around him and heard his quick intake of breath, she grew bolder. She had both hands around him then, one sliding to the tip of his length while the other stayed grounded at the base, two fingers slipping beneath to tweak his balls. Ballard leaned against the wall then, his breathing definitely faster, more labored. Prerelease oozed from the tip and Janelle dipped her head to sample. She pulled back, dipped her head again and had the entire bulbous head of him in her mouth to suckle. Minutes later she was still on her knees, Ballard’s fingers digging into her shoulders before he finally pulled away.
He ground out the words “Come here,” and lifted her into his arms.
She dutifully wrapped her legs around his waist, sliding down over his length. He turned again so that her back was against the wall and worked her until they both were out of breath, both moaning and gasping as their releases hit simultaneously, almost knocking them down completely.
* * *
Another first, Ballard thought as he escorted Janelle through the honey-oak front doors of the senior Dubois estate. He could have sent her home, or rather, let her go home to Wintersage yesterday or earlier this morning, for that matter. He could have simply not invited her to his place Friday night after the dance.
Ballard didn’t even want to think about not having made the choices he had. He didn’t want to think about the past forty-something hours that he’d had with her. The private time they’d shared in his place, in his bed, his shower, his arms. The conversations that had pulled them closer together, that made him understand and admire the woman she was so much more. He would have had none of that had he stuck to his normal dating ritual and had she stuck to her no-dating ritual.
In that respect he was glad for change.
Walking through the house he’d loved as a child to the family room with its three couches, full-service bar, French doors and terrace that wrapped around a good portion of the side of the house, he felt proud and pleased at the same time. He felt good about bringing her here and about what this action meant. What Ballard would not allow himself to feel was curiosity. He wouldn’t ask himself why—why her? Why now? He would not wonder at what all this really meant. He couldn’t afford to.
“This is a beautiful home,” she was saying from beside him.
He guided her to the couch. “I loved coming to visit when I was young. Pops used to have this butler named Oz.”
Ballard moved to the other side of the room, where the bar was located, as he continued talking, taking down two glasses and going to the small refrigerator to pull out two bottled waters.
“He was as wide as a door and so tall I used to call him a giant. He was from the West Indies and had this great accent. We’d play hide-and-seek and he’d take forever to find me even though I think he knew where I was all along.” Ballard chuckled at the memory.
“Sounds like fun. DJ and I played hide-and-seek until the day when I was ten and he locked me in the closet I hid in instead of coming to find me. I was in there for at least an hour before I realized he wasn’t coming to get me and that he’d locked the door. My dad was livid. I thought he was going to kill DJ.”
This time Ballard tossed his head back, he laughed so hard. That was another thing he’d done a lot of this weekend. He’d laughed and relaxed and thought of other things besides work. They’d gone to the movies to see something he would have never thought to see in a movie theater on his own or to rent and watch alone. Superheroes weren’t his thing but Janelle had been adamant about seeing the new Thor installment and even more over-the-top excited as the movie progressed and one of her favorite actors, Idris Elba, made his screen appearance. He’d been happy that she was happy and slightly jealous at the obvious affection she had for the movie star.
Now he was laughing with her again, being comfortable and at home with a female he’d met only about a month ago.
“Nora told me you had someone with you,” Leandra said, coming into the room, her cream-colored skirt sparkling with the same floral design as the matching jacket she wore.
She looked from her grandson to the woman sitting on the couch and her smile almost touched from one ear to the other. As for Ballard, his hand tightened on the glass he held.
“Hello,” Janelle was saying as she stood and took a step forward to greet Leandra, who had moved across the room faster than Ballard had seen her move in quite some time. “I’m Janelle Howerton and you have a gorgeous home, Mrs. Dubois.”
Leandra clasped Janelle’s outstretched hand, cradling it in both of her weathered ones.
“And you are pretty as a picture. Look at that smile, Ballard. She’s lovely. Here, sit back down, Janelle, and let me get to know you better.”
Ballard still stood at the bar, lifting his glass to his lips for a gulp. The hand that clapped his shoulder had him just about to choke because he knew who it was and what was about to be said.
“Good job, son, good job,” Hudson whispered to him, which was unnecessary, because across the room his grandmother had Janelle totally engaged in another conversation. “She’s prettier in person than her pictures. And she’s polite. Your grandmother likes her already.”
“Of course she’s polite, Pops. She’s a lady.”
“Yes. Yes, she’s a lady. From a good family. Her father’s got a good shot at winning that seat.” Hudson moved around where Ballard stood, fixing his own drink, Hennessy, as always.
“He’s looking for our support,” Ballard said, remembering Janelle’s email that he’d never responded to.
“And he should get it. His platform’s solid, his business is booming and we might just end up being family. Your father’s met him, too, said he’s a good man who lost his wife some time back. Yeah, we should talk about what we can do for Howerton’s campaign and how long I’ll have to wait for you and that pretty one over there to make things official.”
“There’s nothing to make official, Pops. We just met not too long ago, so we’re just trying to get to know each other.”
“All you need to know is that she’s the one,” Hudson said before taking a swallow of his drink. When he put the glass down on the marble-top surface, he looked over to where Leandra and Janelle sat, then back to Ballard. “If it feels right, if you can’t sleep without dreaming of her, can’t breathe without smelling her scent, I don’t care when you met her, she’s the one.”
Throughout dinner, after having introduced Janelle to his father and his grandfather, Ballard thought of Hudson’s words. He thought of the impressions they’d put in his mind as the conversation buzzed around them. Leandra and Janelle talked about Europe and he didn’t miss the slight edge to her voice throughout that exchange. She hadn’t had a good time while she’d been there. His fists balled in his lap as he thought of why. If he weren’t the businessman, the face of Dubois Maritime, he would have beat the hell out of Jack Trellier Friday night as he’d stood in that hallway insulting Janelle as if she’d actually deserved to be faced with him again after all he’d put her through.
Instead he’d opted to get Janelle out of there before all his reservations were dismissed and he did what his gut told him he should. As he’d thought it would be, yesterday’s tabloids had featured an old picture of Trellier and Janelle, then another more current one with Ballard and Janelle leaving Area Four hand in hand. The headline had been High-Society Love Triangle. He’d gone into his home office and shredded the paper immediately, before Janelle could see it. His fingers flexed as once again he thought about punching that jerk Trellier.