by Tiana Cole
His tongue filled her mouth and they melded together. He pushed her back onto the bed and when their lips finally parted he feverishly kissed her face, her neck, and then he pulled the covers from over her, baring her naked body to his touch, and his kisses moved down so he could taste each of her breasts, suck her stiffening nipples into his mouth.
The moan that escaped her lips urged him on, and his mouth made its hot and wet way down over her belly. His hands held her thighs, sending ripples of excitement through her as he spread her legs apart. She gasped as his face moved to her pussy and his tongue attacked her. When he ran his tongue through the tender pink flesh, she tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his face tight against her.
Nothing had ever aroused her like this, and she pressed her thighs to his cheeks, feeling the scratching of his stubble as they wrestled in the dark. He devoured her, eagerly running that amazing tongue into every nook and cranny before uncovering her clitoris. She arched her back and let out an animal hiss as he ate her, as he worked fingers into her vagina and fucked her with them while his mouth consumed the hard nub of desire.
When the arousal grew too fevered, a cry, a different kind of scream than the one that had awakened them, filled the room. This time she knew it was her own scream, her pleasured cry as she rode the crest of an orgasm.
And when she sank down on the bed, he kissed his way back up her body until his face, wet with her juices hovered over her. She reached down to tug down his boxers, working them over his hips, and then he helped her. As he kicked them off it was her spreading her legs wide, inviting him to bring his hard cock into her wet and wanting pussy. As he moved close, she encircled his rigid shaft with her fingers, feeling its heat, its fleshy strength, and guiding it into her.
The burn of his entry into her was marvelous and she heard a sigh of pleasure from him. She hooked her legs around his and lifted her ass from the bed, taking more of him inside her. “Fuck me hard, James,” she said.
Whether or not he heard her, he began thrusting into her with his powerful body flexing. She felt the ripple of his muscles through her hands resting on his shoulders, and in her calves. Most of all, she felt the magnificent heat of his cock moving in and out of her, stretching her muscles. She flexed her muscles too, caressing that shaft with her cunt.
They bounced the bed and their breathing synchronized in a series of grunts that came with each thrust deep inside her. At the end of each one, she let out a little cry, and the cries were strung together in that room in some magical tune of lust.
And then he bit her earlobe. Her body exploded again, and she felt him stiffen, driving into her and holding himself inside her as his magnificent cock twitched. She felt his seed shooting up inside her, flooding her and mixing with her own juices.
And then he collapsed on her, and she held him, taking his weight, loving the feel of him lying on her.
This time he had made love to her knowing who she was. He’d wanted her. And she wanted him.
As she drifted into a new kind of sleep, one that was peaceful, calm, and resting, she wondered if there was any chance of this continuing. After all that had happened, did they stand a chance of finding anything real?
CHAPTER NINE
One of the things James normally admired most about Shen Liang’s ability as a negotiator was driving him nuts. He was almost totally unreadable. His face gave away nothing. Even his habit of smiling at odd moments, or letting his eyes flick around as if someone weren’t there, had to be either totally random or carefully practiced.
Either way, the result was the same—one quickly came to understand that his smiles had absolutely nothing to do with the subject at hand, and breaking contact certainly didn’t indicate that his attention had lagged. As you talked, he lulled you into thinking that something you’d said pleased him or upset him, when the truth was that you knew nothing of the kind.
His mastery of that technique was both effective and maddening. James enjoyed watching him work. Being the person across the table from him, the one he was dealing with, was a different kettle of fish.
“I don’t think there is much new to say,” James told him.
“So you’ve taken no action.”
“Not yet. I don’t want to do anything hasty.”
“What will you use as a basis for deciding?”
James spread his hands open. “Even that isn’t clear. The marriage is a fact and, as you’ve pointed out, its fate concerns us both. She’s spoken up on that point herself—and her needs have to be considered.”
“What is she asking for?”
“Nothing at all. Well, she’s asking to be treated decently.”
“She’s made no request for money?”
“No.”
“Do you care for her?”
“I’m not certain. I find her incredibly attractive. She’s complicated. So are my feelings.”
They sat in silence for a time. That was another technique of his, but it was more than that. James had learned that when Shen Liang received new information on something important, he had a habit of closing his eyes and going away, deep inside his head to analyze it. That someone was sitting still in front of him, waiting for him to respond while he turned it inside out and upside down, looking for any ways it fit into the puzzle he was trying to solve, didn’t matter.
“You are fitting the new pieces into the puzzle,” James said.
Shen Liang opened his eyes. “Yes. Success in life, or business, is a process of solving puzzles. We face a never ending supply of puzzles to solve, so a wise man learns how to select the puzzle he wishes to spend his valuable time on. Otherwise, when you pick up a new piece, you can spend far too much time trying to determine which puzzle it is part of, and not have enough time to decide where it fits.”
“Do these new pieces belong to the current puzzle?”
“Possibly. And, unfortunately, they might be pieces for two different puzzles that I need to solve at the same time. That makes it much more difficult.” Shen Liang stood. The meeting was over. “I think that’s all for now. I feel that I am still missing at least one piece.” He frowned. “I don’t care for missing pieces.”
“Can I help you find the piece?”
Shen Liang smiled. “You are welcome to try. It is a piece that fits at the bottom, and provides the foundation for the scene above. I don’t know if it is dark or light, if it is a rock or water. When I see it, I will know. If you see such a piece, kindly point it out.”
“Can you tell me what the scene is?”
“It’s a picture of character, James Andrews.”
Having no idea what that meant, James nodded and left the man to his puzzle. He hated meetings that proved inconclusive, but at least they were still talking. That had to be a good sign.
When he reached the lobby, James checked his watch. The meeting had been short. Well, there hadn’t been much to say.
As he rode the elevator down, he played with Shen Liang’s idea of a puzzle that represented a person’s character. It was an interesting concept, mapping their actions, their words into a picture, a visualization of who they were.
What would a painting of character look like? Putting himself in Shen Liang’s shoes, what would he want to picture? Each of the pieces would represent some aspect of character as he wanted to understand it—trust, loyalty, integrity, and even qualities like clear sightedness would have to be part of it.
If Shen Liang was hesitating in making his decision, he had questions about all of the people he was considering dealing with. James had no idea who, besides Alan, would be in the running, so he couldn’t begin to find out anything about them, and that meant he had to imagine the picture the man was creating of him. He seemed to still be in contention.
He leaned back against the elevator wall and imagined a picture of himself. He had a good business track record. That would paint his abilities in bright, solid, bold colors. His bad judgment in getting drunk and acting foolishly…that would be watery, s
wampy even. Not good, but not a missing piece, either. Not exactly.
What else? Shen Liang valued actions over words. He seemed to think that how James treated his accidental bride, what he did in this situation, was worth noting. And that was a complex situation.
That meant that the piece Shen Liang was looking for wasn’t about the mistake. No, it was the piece that should how James dealt with his mistake. That was why he had questions about Deja. Shen Liang was actually looking for the same answers he was—how to deal with his marriage. His actions would show his character, his true nature. What if he decided to stay married and see how it went? He liked and lusted after her, so it wouldn’t be onerous, but would it mean that he was weak and unable to take a hard decision? Or would it mean he was honorable? Or would it be more honorable to admit the mistake?
Whatever he did would provide a puzzle piece that was at the bottom, underlining his character.
But character was reflected in much more than how one’s domestic and business lives were acted out. Other people came into the picture as well. Not trying to sabotage Alan, regardless of what he’d done, by blaming him for his own mistakes…that was painful but honorable. That piece, even if Liang saw it differently was already on the table. It wasn’t missing.
As he went through the ornate lobby, James realized he might actually know the nature of another missing piece—another piece that would be at the bottom, providing a baseline. And again, he and Liang might not read the piece the same way, but the reality was that Shen Liang wasn’t hesitating in making a decision. He was waiting for James to provide those two missing pieces. Once he had them, he could put them in place and see if he liked what he saw.
As he settled in the taxi James decided that he’d have to make a decision about Deja, let her know what he wanted and see what she wanted, sooner rather than later. He’d make a decision on the other piece quickly too. Both had to be in front of Shen Liang.
James felt a bit of relief. For the first time in several days, he understood the game he was being asked to play. He sank back in the seat. All he had to do now was be the man he thought he was—be strong and do what was right.
Whatever that was.
* * * *
The next day James wanted to see Barbara again. “We barely got a chance to say hello yesterday,” he said.
Deja seemed pleased. “You like her, then?”
“So far. What’s not to like?”
They headed to the hospital, arriving to find her with the doctor. “She’s very tired,” she said. “Please keep it short. She needs your kisses and love, but don’t make her have to work hard. She’ll put on a brave front for you and that exhausts her.”
“We’ll keep it brief.”
They did, doing little more than say hello, but again, even in that brief encounter, James was taken with the way the sisters brought out the best in each other. Clearly Deja’s visits made Barbara happy and stronger; a smile from Barbara seem to melt any stress Deja felt, and she came away from the visits magically energized—better equipped to deal with life.
Before they left, Deja told Barbara a short version of her nightmare, and Barbara found it funny.
“If they disassemble me, they are required to put me back together,” she said. “So no need to worry. And maybe they’ll get me right this time. Watch them close and throw away the pain module when they aren’t looking.”
And they both laughed.
James laughed too, but he was jealous of them and delighted by them.
Outside of the hospital, they got in a taxi. On the way back to the hotel, she stared out the window. He took her hand and she simply let him hold it, not encouraging him, but not objecting. Distracted, he thought. Her mind was on her sister and she felt helpless. Helpless and sad.
As they pulled up in front of the hotel, James held the door for Deja.
“Listen, my lawyer, Kieran Oliver, the guy I called, was supposed to fly in today. I left instructions for the hotel to let him in my suite. He’s probably up there now.”
She shrugged. “I assumed I’d meet him sooner or later.”
“I think we should all have dinner together,” James said. “Is that okay?”
“I get a choice?”
“Of course. That was an invitation, not a command.”
“So you didn’t plan a dinner for three so that you two can gang up on me.”
“No. This is the onset of my charm offensive.”
“Really?”
“It is. I’ve reluctantly accepted that I can’t do much about the business deal—nothing at all, that I can think of. Eventually Shen Liang will make a decision and I can’t do anything to influence it one way or another—I’ve already done what I can, so I’ll let that go. Meantime, you and I need to work out our…relationship, situation, whatever it is.”
“I feel the same way about our ‘whatever it is,’ as you so romantically refer to our marriage. I’m not sure I have anything to work out. I gave my word to do what you want, so I’m waiting to see what you decide. I won’t fight you.”
“But I don’t need to act like an ass while we decide what that is. My problem is that I can’t quite figure out what to do about you, us, on my own, because it isn’t just about me. Even if you are happy to do what I want, my only hope of doing anything sensible is to learn more about who you are.
I haven’t been patient with you. I assumed you knew what you wanted and when I get sharp with you, tried to make you tell me, you’ve gone on the defensive and shut me down. So, seeing as I can’t force the truth from those lovely lips, I’ve decided to charm you into letting me see who you are.”
She looked relieved. “Okay, then. I can deal with being charmed.” She looked flushed. “You certainly charmed me last night.”
The memories of the night made him flush. He wanted her again. “And that managed to complicate a situation that I thought couldn’t get any more convoluted.”
“Why?”
“Because it shows me that I’m still infatuated with you. But infatuation isn’t love. Of course, it isn’t not love either. It’s a confusion.”
She put a finger to his lips. “Then let’s be confused for a while. I rather enjoyed your confusion.”
He kissed her. “I need to run a couple of errands before dinner. Do you think you could go to our suite and introduce yourself to Kieran and entertain the man until I get there?”
“I suppose he’ll want to cross examine me.”
“The nature of that beast, I suppose. Don’t take it too seriously. He won’t make my decisions for me.”
“He’s also a friend whose opinion you value. But sure, I can deal with an LA lawyer.”
“Just pretend he’s an old friend. And if you can also manage to pretend he’s handsome, you’ll get along great.”
“I’m not sure flirting with him would be the best way to win him over. It wouldn’t exactly convey the impression I’m trustworthy.”
He laughed. “Probably not. Do the best you can and I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” Then he kissed her, and noted how the touch of her soft lips on his made his head spin and his heart pound. If he didn’t love this woman, there was something in their chemistry that made being with her more special than he ever thought possible.
James stood in front of the hotel and watched her walk inside, thinking how lovely it was to simply see her move. Her elegant body and purposeful stride got to him more than he liked. She was definitely under his skin, and when he was around her he did things he shouldn’t. He’d either have to hold her so close they moved as one, or push her far, far away. The thought of that doing made him grow icy cold. But it might be necessary.
He took a deep breath, shook off the unusual feeling of being overwhelmed, then hailed a taxi. The text from Shen Liang said he wanted to meet now.
* * * *
At first glance Deja loved the way the Irishman’s eyes sparkled with a boyish mischievousness. She’d come up to the room and found him sitting ther
e. As she entered the room, he stood up and held out his hand. “You must be Deja Fontaine. I’m Kieran Oliver. I’m sure James has told you all about me.”
“I do know who you are, but the truth is that James has hardly said a word about anyone. If I hadn’t been in the room when he called you to find out the least painful and most proper way to scuttle our marriage, I wouldn’t even know who you were.”
“I knew it. His rudeness and jealousy know no bounds.”
She laughed. “Rudeness and jealousy? Is that what it is?”
“Assuredly. In this case, I imagine his fear of having me sweep you off your feet strikes fear into his cold heart. He can’t stand the idea of competition.”
She laughed again, enjoying the banter. “It might also be that he’s had enough to think about without taking time to extol the virtues of his friends.”
“There is that. And now he is off doing God knows what while we are thrown in together and forced to fend for ourselves.”
“You might have been thrown, Mr. Oliver, but I’m afraid that I put myself here. However inadvisable my actions, I did it to myself.”
“I love how you cut to the chase! No false sentiment, no fake humility. By God, I adore you already. I can see why he likes you.”
Hearing that from the lawyer surprised her.
“He likes me?”
“I’d say so. On a scale of one to ten, my guess is rates you at about a twelve.”
She had to take the idea with a large grain of salt, but the possibility teased and tormented her. More and more she found herself hoping for some miracle that would allow him to like her, or at least not be totally angry with her. “I’m not sure that he does. Especially under the circumstances.”
“I can read him. The man is an open book.”
“Really? To me, James seems so controlled and keeps things so close to the vest that I suspect his real emotions might be a mystery even to him.”