Been Loving You Too Long (DuChamps Dynasty)

by Donavan, Seraphina

  They groaned in unison, their gazes locked together as intimately as their bodies. He flexed his hips, delving deeper, his thick length touching every sensitive nerve ending, making her gasp his name.

  Her eyes never left his as he lowered his mouth to her aching breasts, drawing one taut, sensitive nipple into his mouth, suckling deeply and then stroking gently, soothingly with his tongue.

  ~~****~~

  Ophelia rocked her hips against him, matching the slow, easy rhythm that he set. The hot, aching need clawed through her, twisting inside her, but somehow she found the strength to let him set the pace. As the pleasure built, she mentally conceded that patience truly was a virtue. She could see the tension coiled in him, the fire banked in his eyes as he drove her up again, building the pleasure inside her.

  When her eyes shuttered, her senses overwhelmed by the pleasure, by the beauty and perfection of him, she closed her arms around him, holding him closer, clinging to him in a way that made her feel weak. Still, she held on, unable to let go of him as she felt the ripples begin deep inside her. “Vincent!” she cried, her nails digging into his shoulders as each wave crested inside her.

  With the last of her strength, she clenched tightly around him while pressing her lips to his neck, her teeth scraping lightly against his salty skin.

  His movements became less smooth, less controlled, as he drove into her again, his body shuddering against hers as she felt the heat of his essence spilling inside her.

  The only sound in the room was their ragged breathing. They clung to one another, neither of them willing to break the spell. Everything else was uncertain, but there was this one thing that would always work between them.

  Her fingers trailing over his back, drawing delicate circles on his sweat slicked skin, Ophelia wished they could stay there forever. It would be so much easier, she thought, if they never had to speak, if they never had to discuss anything between them.

  She could tell him everything she needed to with her body, that she loved him, accepted him, that she needed him. Whether he could admit it or not, she knew he’d told her those same things.

  A sad smile played at her lips as she closed her eyes and savored the feel of him so close to her. Enjoy the moment, she told herself. Take it for what it is, and when the time comes, let it go.

  ~~****~~

  It was hours later when the dream came. Vincent could feel the panic, the cold dread that gathered in his stomach as the screaming grew louder. The accusations and the tears from the front seat of the car were nothing new. How many times had he heard it? Even at ten years old, he’d become immune to the ugly names and the venom his parents spewed at one another.

  He’d known even then that this time was different. The car was swerving all over the road, going far too fast on rain slicked streets. Justin was wailing from his car seat, terrified by the screaming. Kaitlyn sat beside him, huddling against his side, her tiny hand tucked into his. His mother was begging, pleading with his father to stop and let them out.

  Vincent gripped the sheets in his fists, sweat beading on his skin as the memories invaded his sleep. Trapped in the dream, reliving those moments he murmured a soft protest.

  The car was spinning wildly, his father hitting the brakes. He had one large hand on the wheel, the other was fisted in his wife’s hair, holding her in the vehicle even as she pried at the door, screaming and crying.

  The car had stopped, but his father had never let her go. “Get out! Get the fuck out and take her bastard with you!” he screamed.

  With trembling hands, Vincent had unbuckled all of them, climbing out of the car as the fight raged.

  His mother had stopped her crying and was screaming and clawing at his father then. There was no clear cut vision of who was the victim and who was the abuser. They both liked to play those roles in equal parts.

  Getting out of the car, Vincent had no idea what to do, so he just stood there. The gates to the house were right behind them. Vincent willed them to open, but they refused, and the keypad, to which he’d never been given the code, mocked him as the rain drenched his jacket and Justin shivered against him.

  Panic hit him then, with his baby brother in his arms and his sister clinging to his side. He wanted to push them both away and run, to escape from it all—but he didn’t. He just stood there and watched as the car sped off.

  The crashing sound as it hit the guard rail was so loud, and the splash that followed as it sailed into the swollen river was deafening. There were other sounds that even in his dreams, even as much as he longed for them, he never heard. There were no screeching tires, no squalling brakes. Standing in the rain, he knew, even as a child, that it had been deliberate.

  The threats of his father, to kill his faithless wife and himself, had ceased to be idle.

  Struggling to hold the baby, he held onto Kaitlyn as she tried to run after their parents. He felt her slip away from him, and he reached out, grabbing the only part of her he could. When his hand tangled in her long, dark hair, he pulled her back, even as she screamed. He held her there, just as tightly as his father had held their mother.

  The dream shifted then, no longer a dark memory, but a full-fledged nightmare. His parents stood in front of him, covered in filth from the river, water pouring from their mouths as they spoke.

  “You’re just like me, Vincent,” his father sneered, each word punctuated by Kaitlyn’s screaming.

  He awoke without warning. Sitting up in bed, his body drenched with sweat and his heart pounding furiously in his chest, Vincent tried to shake the remnants of the dream, but they were stubborn.

  Like an avalanche, the memories kept coming, replaying in his mind. Over and over again, he saw the car going into the river. He felt the tug as Kaitlyn tried to pull away from him. The horror he’d felt when she’d emerged from the bathroom hours later, her long hair cut almost to the scalp, was never far from his mind. The guilt had eaten at him then, just as it did now.

  Logically, he knew that he hadn’t been trying to hurt her, only to save her. But the parallels between what he’d done to keep Kaitlyn safe and what their father had done to control their mother were just too sharply drawn. She’d never worn her hair long again after that.

  Just as always, the weight of responsibility ate at him, pressing in until he felt he couldn’t breathe from it. Pushing the covers back, he rose and walked to the window. Looking out into the street, he tried to push it all back, to lock it back up in that place inside himself where he kept all his darkest secrets.

  He focused on the scene outside the window, on anything outside himself. It had rained sometime during the night, and the reflected glow of the streetlights cast a glaring light on his face.

  “Vincent, are you okay?”

  He looked back at the bed, at the concern etched on Ophelia’s face. Had it really only been a week since they’d played an identical scene? Vowing not to lash out at her, not to hurt her again, he took a moment before answering. With a shake of his head, he dismissed her concern. “Just a bad dream.”

  “What was it about? Sometimes it helps to talk about them.”

  “I don’t remember,” he lied. It was better than the truth, of telling her that she’d married a man whose father was a murderer—the spitting image of a controlling, abusive, bastard who’d murdered his wife and killed himself while his children watched.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Vincent walked into his office on Monday morning in a foul mood. The dreams had come every night since the wedding. The nightmares became infrequent over the years, but now they were back in full force. He knew that it had to do with his newly married state.

  The question had never plagued him before, but now, he found himself wondering if his parents had ever been happy? Had their relationship always been the dramatic, tumultuous wreck that left the three of them orphaned? There was no one left to ask that question. The only person who might have known had been Thomas, and now he was gone too.

  He chose to ignor
e the curious stares of employees and the uncertainty of nearly everyone in the building. He could hear the whispers. Was it true? If he’d just gotten married, why was he there? Why hadn’t they ever heard about him getting serious with anyone?

  The questions uttered about honeymoons did have him thinking. It wouldn’t hurt to take Ophelia somewhere, to get away and enjoy their time together. Entering his office, he met Ramona’s less than happy gaze. She’d been a guest at the wedding and he didn’t have to guess that she was very unhappy to see him back in the office.

  “I’m a very efficient assistant, Mr. DuChamps. I could have cleared your schedule easily enough.”

  “I got married, Ramona. I’m not sick or dead and you and I both know that’s the only reason I miss work,”

  “Perhaps that should change. Your new wife might enjoy some of your time.”

  “In that case, why don’t you make a reservation for Ophelia and I at Galatoire’s? I’ll take my bride to lunch,” he conceded and sent a text to Ophelia with the details.

  “A long lunch,” she insisted. “I’m clearing your afternoon schedule, whether you like it or not.”

  He didn’t have a problem with that. The idea of taking Ophelia to lunch and then taking her home and back to bed was very appealing. “That’s fine. Is Claude in?”

  Ramona looked uncomfortable. “He’s in a meeting with Marvin Tate—and Melina Tate.”

  Nothing like bearding the lion in its den, he thought and headed down the hall towards the boardroom. Even through the heavy door, he could hear the sound of raised voices. Knocking quietly, he opened the door and stepped into the room.

  The tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Looking at the tense faces of Claude and Marvin and the tear stained face of Melina, he knew instantly that there was far more going on than the deal Claude was pushing. “What’s going on here?”

  “Your cousin was just explaining to me that you think our products are too cheap for your hotels,” Marvin replied, his tone sharp and offended.

  Vincent looked at Claude, noting the smirk on his face. “Marvin, you and I both know that you produce inexpensive linens. Luxury hotels are not your market.”

  “Goddammit, Vincent, I’ve been friends with your family for decades and we’re sinking here!” Marvin exclaimed, slapping his palm against the table and making Melina jump.

  “Marvin, I’d be happy to put in a word for you with some of the other hotel chains. If you want to explore a new product line that suits DuChamps Hotels’ standards, I’d be the first one to give it a go.”

  “We don’t have the money to launch a new product,” Melina retorted bitterly.

  Vincent shook his head. “I know business is tight. Too many of the mid range hotels have shut their doors permanently, and too many budget retailers have gone out. Sometimes, you have to take a risk. You all come up with the specs and I’ll consider investing, but I’m not putting a product in our hotels that our guests wouldn’t have in their homes.”

  Marvin shook his head. “I kept telling Claude this wouldn’t work— and him trying to make my sweet girl here cozy up to you to set the deal, just makes me mad as hell.”

  Vincent didn’t acknowledge that statement. To his mind, there was nothing he could say that would go over well, so it was best just to keep his mouth shut. “I’ll be happy to offer you any help I can, Marvin.”

  “Melina, let’s go...Claude, I’ll see you at the club. Just cause I’m going broke, doesn’t mean I’m willing to give up golf, yet.”

  The two left and Vincent met Claude’s steely gaze.

  “Are you happy now?” the older man demanded. “We could have cut our linen budget in half.”

  Vincent shook his head. “No, Claude we couldn’t have. We could have purchased cheaper, inferior linens that would have to be replaced more frequently and that could very well have made loyal guests go elsewhere. We cater to a pampered clientele. They expect the best and if we don’t deliver it to them, someone else will.”

  “You just said it! The mid range hotels have been dropping like flies. There’s a market there for us to grab!”

  “There will be, but it would require a different brand. I’ve been considering it for the future, but for right now, the middle class is the hardest hit by the economy. That‘s why those hotels closed, because their customer base no longer has the means to travel for pleasure. When things begin to turn around economically, we may branch out. But that doesn’t mean we lower the quality at our existing properties. I’m done with this conversation, Claude. Right now you are the head of the financial department, but when it comes to decisions about the hotels themselves, that comes to me. Don’t overstep again.”

  “Or what? You’re going to fire me?”

  “If need be. Right now, I have controlling interest. I don’t need the board’s approval.”

  “Only if you can manage to stay married for the next year,” Claude sneered. “I always wondered about you, Vincent. Just how close were you and Thomas?”

  If the loss hadn’t been so fresh, if the idea of anyone maligning Thomas’ memory hadn’t been so offensive, he might have held his temper. Crossing the room in two strides, he pulled Claude up from his chair by his collar and shoved him against the wall. “Don’t open your fucking mouth again! You say another word about Thomas, and if you even utter Ophelia’s name, I will personally remove you from this building and make damn sure you never cross the threshold again.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Damn straight. Don’t push me on this, Claude. I don’t know what you’re angle is, but I’m hiring an independent auditor to come in. You’re so damn desperate to cut corners in a business that should be flush...Let’s see why.”

  Claude’s face purpled with rage, paling with the threat.

  “What have you done, Claude?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he denied vehemently.

  Vincent felt that sick, twisting feeling in his gut then. There was no avoiding it. “You’re gone, Claude. If I have to get a whole team of forensic accountants in here to figure out what the hell is going on, I will. In the meantime, you’ll turn in your badge and security will be instructed not to allow you on the premises. Your salary will be paid until this is resolved.”

  “You can’t do that to me! I’ve been working here longer than you’ve been alive!”

  “I can and I have. Make a list of things you need from your office and I’ll have Ramona get them for you. We’ll try to keep this discreet. I’m even willing to say you’re taking time off for health reasons...but make no mistake, Claude. If you’ve done something illegal, I don’t care how embarrassing it is, you will be prosecuted,” Vincent promised.

  Claude said nothing else, just angrily straightened his tie and walked out.

  Hanging his head, Vincent turned and walked back to his office. Claude was a pain in the ass, but he was also family. It wouldn’t save him, but it would make his betrayal sting even more. Entering his office again, he gave the appropriate instructions to Ramona.

  She didn’t ask questions, but simply went about her job as efficiently as always. She might poke into his personal life a little more than he liked, but when it came to business, she knew when to push and when to keep quiet.

  Seating himself at his desk, he made a call he didn’t want to. A forensic accountant, someone who could keep things discreet and had no previous interactions with Claude was what he needed, and there was only person he knew who could provide that service.

  Once the arrangements had been made, he began tackling the other items on his desk. It was a big job to act as CEO of the company and to be managing the renovations of the Marquis Royale, but that hotel was special to him and he wasn’t ready to turn that project over to anyone else.

  After spending the morning handling the things that wouldn’t wait, he found his mind wandering back to Claude. It was a complicated situation and he would have to tread carefully. There were s
o many things about the family that Claude was privy to, things that if revealed, could have a devastating impact on the business.

  Shoving those thoughts aside, he rose and headed for Galatoire’s. A long standing tradition, it was one of the best restaurants in the quarter, and he imagined that the old world charm of the place would appeal to Ophelia. Seeing her smile would improve his day, and that had more significance than he wanted to consider.

  Strolling down Bourbon Street, he entered the restaurant, noting the polished brass and crisp table cloths.

  Ophelia was already there, seated at a table in the corner.

  Moving towards her, he exchanged greetings with the manager before reaching her side.

  She looked lovely, but then she always did. Her hair had been left down, the dark strands flowing over her shoulders and the thick fringe of bangs framing her large, dark eyes. The strapless summer dress she wore was a pale blue, feminine and pretty. “You don’t look like you’re having a very good day.” She tilted her head to the side. It wasn’t intended to be a seductive gesture, but it was nonetheless. Her hair slid over her shoulders, baring more of her skin.

  The memory of how soft her skin was would be etched forever in his mind, as well as the memories of her swift and intense response when he kissed the tender flesh where her neck and shoulder met. “It’s better now,” he replied taking his seat across from her. “I think I just fired Claude.”

  Briefly, he relayed the confrontation and the decision he had made. He hadn’t realized until that moment that he wanted her input…hearing her opinion was important to him.

  “You didn’t really have any other choice. Claude obviously has an agenda, and you have to find out what that is.”

  Vincent didn’t reply as the waiter had approached to take their orders. After he had walked away, he said, “I’ve taken the rest of the day off. I thought we could spend it together.”