A Christmas Affair (17 page)

Corona’s eyes bulged as she attempted to sit straight up.

But Lyfe’s hands stretched over his head and pressed her back down. Now that her lungs had been depleted of air, Corona had a hard time getting oxygen back into them. Lyfe had turned into a Tasmanian devil between her legs. Somehow he managed to slurp and tongue box her clit silly.

The pleasure was so intense that Corona tried to close her legs and push his head away, but he made it clear that none of that was going to happen until he got what he was waiting for. Two seconds later, she cried out and then grabbed fistfuls of the bedding and pulled it to her mouth so that she could bite into something—anything. It wasn’t long before a second cry filled the room.

“Please. Please. I can’t breathe.”

Lyfe smiled and finally showed mercy. He released her pink pearl, but he still cleaned up the juices that ran down her leg. “How do you feel, baby?” he asked.

“Oh, my God. That was amazing,” she panted.

“Well. You haven’t seen nothing yet, baby.” He rained kisses against her flat belly. “We have a lot of time to make up for. Years, in fact.” He climbed off the bed and quickly stripped out of his remaining clothing.

Corona watched him through the long strands of her lashes. She couldn’t convince herself that what was happening was real and not some lifelong dream. She was absolutely hypnotized by his muscles in the silvery moonlight. But having barely survived their sexual appetizer, she couldn’t help but wonder what her chances were of getting through the full meal.

Turned out, she didn’t have a damn thing to worry about. As he returned to the bed, he eased on top of her and kept whispering how beautiful she was and how wonderful her skin felt pressed against his.

He entered her in the middle of moaning her name, and he found her honey walls to be the perfect fit. For the first few precious seconds, he couldn’t get himself to move for fear of becoming a one-minute brother. He vaguely remembered her having that effect on him the first time they joined their bodies. Surely the stakes were higher this time. Coming too soon or crying were still considered big no-no’s, and for good reason.

Once he was able to gather control of himself, he started off with small strokes. He closed his eyes and then buried his head in the crook of her neck while her body continued to perform its magic over him.

Corona slid her hands up his broad back and, before long, she was gripping his shoulders and rolling her hips. After a while, their bodies rocked together in a melodious and hypnotic rhythm. A babble of words tumbled out of Corona’s mouth as she found herself climbing
higher among the clouds. If she could have her way, she would never come down.

So exquisite was his slow, deep stroking that tears gathered behind her closed eyes while the sound of her racing heart filled her ears. Their lips found each other’s again; but their hunger for each other kept growing with every beat of their hearts.

He is your destiny.

The moment that thought floated across Corona’s brain, it felt like it was a true declarative statement and not just her heart’s whimsical fantasy.

And as if he’d just heard her private thoughts, Lyfe started chanting against her ear, “You belong to me. You will always belong to me.”

Her toes tingled. Then it was her knees and calves. Before long, that familiar, sweet pressure started to build in her center.

Lyfe’s intimate chant morphed into low guttural growls for the Almighty. Corona’s muscles tightened into a smooth sheath, causing stars to start dancing before his eyes. Heaven was just a few strokes away. He could feel it. Taste it.

“You coming, baby?” he asked, not wanting to take this celestial journey without her.

Corona moaned, groaned and sighed—but she was incapable of answering him. However, her nails were slowly sinking into his body as her orgasm drew closer and closer. Before they knew it, they were crying out together. Their bodies, as well as the bed, trembled and shook as if the room was experiencing a major earthquake.

Afterward, sweaty and out of breath, they clung to each other.

“I love you, Corona Mae Banks. I always have and I always will.”

I love you, too, Lyfe Alton. I always have and I always will.
Instead of saying those words, she turned her head and looked at the large diamond ring still nestled on her finger.

T
he next day passed by in a blur. Apparently, Corona had agreed to white hydrangeas and soft ranunculuses for the wedding. The original color scheme had been changed from burgundy and emerald to navy and silver because Wahida insisted that navy was Rowan’s favorite color. And another seventy family and friends of her future mother-in-law just
had
to be added to the wedding list.

It got to the point that Corona just gave up arguing with the woman. She nodded to whatever she and the wedding planner put in front of her. There was only one thing on her mind: Lyfe Alton.

And then there was Rowan. She had tried to call him several times that morning and had left several messages. She needed to talk to him … so she could call off the wedding. But, until then, she felt an obligation to go through the motions. That meant she had to put up with
these previously scheduled wedding planning appointments and put a smile on her face.

But there were other issues. Lyfe still didn’t know about Melody.

“Chloe,” Wahida shrilled. “Are you listening?”

“Huh? What?” She glanced around and noticed that she was still sitting in the cake shop with a table full of samples.

“Silly girl.” Wahida rolled her eyes. “Well, which one do you like?”

Corona blinked and glanced over the table. Hell, she barely remembered tasting any of them. “The … red velvet was good,” she guessed.

“Yes. It was nice … but what did you think about the coconut? We could have the chocolate sauce off to the side and—”

“I don’t like coconut.”

“Oh. But it’s Rowan’s favorite.”

Corona gritted her teeth. “I. Don’t. Like. Coconut.”

“Yes, dear, but—”

“Damn it. No coconut!”

Wahida leaned back and put her hand over her heart. “I heard you, dear. All of New York heard you. There’s no need to shout.”

“You know what?” Corona jumped up, knocking her chair backward. “I have to get out of here.” She grabbed her coat and her purse and raced for the door. “I’m sorry,” she said as she breezed past the baker. She was certain that everyone in the shop thought that she would be the perfect candidate for the show
Bridezillas,
but she didn’t care. She gulped down as much of the wintry air as she could stand.

After a full minute she calmed down. “What are you
doing, Corona Mae?”
You’re planning to marry one guy while waiting anxiously to go on a date with another,
the voice in the back of her head answered. Hearing her own internal interpretation made her feel worse. “I got to get out of this date.”
Then Lyfe will come to the wedding.
“Grrrr. I should kill Tess and get it over with. It’s not like she hasn’t had it coming for a while.”

She thought about it some more and concluded that, yes, killing her sister would definitely help her feel better. Just when her impromptu stroll through New York’s busy streets was becoming productive, her cell phone rang.

“Of course.” She scooped her cell phone out of her jacket pocket and saw Melody’s name and picture. “Hello, sweetheart.”

“Mom, where are you?”

“I’m at, uhm … Times Square.”

“Did you forget your appointment at Cymbeline’s? Me and Grandma are waiting for you to try on dresses.”

“Ohmigod.” She had forgotten.

“Your driver said that you bolted out of the cake place, and he doesn’t know where you went.”

“I’m, uhm … on my way, sweetheart. See you in a few.” She disconnected the call and rushed to the edge of the sidewalk. “Taxi!”

Twenty minutes later, Corona arrived like a hurricane at the sleek showcase room in the heart in Chelsea.

“Ah. You must be Ms. Banks,” an elegant woman dressed in all black said, approaching with an outstretched hand. “I’m Gabby, and I’ll be your fashion stylist today.”

“Yes. I am. I’m so sorry to have kept everyone waiting.

I don’t know what possessed me to sign off on doing cake tasting and gown shopping on the same day.”

“I completely understand. This is a very busy time for you right now. If you’d follow me, your party is waiting for you in the back.”

“Thank you.” Corona pulled in another deep breath and then followed her stylist to the back.

“There she is,” her mother said, setting down her delicate flute of champagne and coming over to give her a huge hug. “We were really worried about you.”

Tess lowered a magazine while Melody pulled the earbuds of her iPod out. She took one look at her mother’s face and quickly grew concerned.

“Momma, are you all right?”

“Yeah, sure.” She glanced around to see about a dozen women showcasing a variety of wedding dresses. “It’s just that … “ She huffed out a long breath. “It’s kind of hot and stuffy in here, don’t you think?” Corona fanned herself.

Her mother, Tess, and Melody all exchanged looks.

“No? Oh.” She glanced around again at the smiles and the yards of silk and lace. “Maybe I just need something to drink. Maybe I just got hot running around.”

Melody’s frown deepened. “It’s like four degrees outside, Mom.”

Corona glanced up, but when she saw her daughter’s steady gaze that looked so much like her father’s, she quickly looked away. “Oh … yeah.”

“How about some champagne?” Gabby asked, reappearing with a small tray.

“Thanks,” Corona said, grabbing the glass and slamming it back almost in the same motion.

“Ooookay,” Tess said, tossing her magazine onto the
coffee table. “Things look like they’re getting a little more interesting.”

“I think Melody is right,” her mother said. “You don’t look so good.” She reached for her daughter and then placed the back of her hand against her forehead. “You’re not running a fever, but you do look pale.”

“I’m fine,” Corona said and set her empty glass back on the tray. She turned to Gabby and said, “I’m going to need another one of those.”

“Alrighty. Coming right up.”

It actually took three drinks before Corona was ready to take a look at the dresses that she had described during her phone consultation. But the moment she was zipped into a strapless, mermaid gown with a pleated bodice, all Corona could see in the mirror was the yards of fabric of her mother’s old gown with the million buttons.

Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. The dress felt like it was slowly suffocating her. “Get it off,” she panted, tugging at the bodice. “Please, help me get it off.”

Tess and her mother’s eyes bugged.

“Please, hurry,” Corona panicked. A second later, there was a loud rip from the dress, but she didn’t care. She grew more frantic and began clawing at the zipper.

“Alright, baby. Calm down,” her mother said, trying to get to the tiny button.

Corona dropped to her knees. “Please, please. Hurry.”

“Momma?” Melody rushed over and pulled her mother’s head up against her chest. “It’s all right. It’s okay.”

At last, her mother and Tess worked the zipper down and then raked the gown off her body.

“My God,” Gabby said, looking too shocked to process what had just happened.

Unable to answer, Corona busted into tears.

“Shhh. Mommy, it’s okay,” Melody said. She rocked her mother back and forth as her tears drenched her Christmas sweater. “It’s okay.”

Hours later, Corona woke up in her bed with her daughter curled up next to her. Confused, she tried to remember why and how she got there; but the effort brought on a serious migraine. Pushing herself up, she looked over at her sleeping daughter again. A smile touched her lips, and she reflected on how it’d been just the two of them for so long.

You have to tell her about her father.

The moment the thought snaked across her head, another wave of tears blurred her vision. She had put off this day for as long as she could—and she was no better prepared to talk to Melody about her father than when Melody had been in kindergarten, drawing her family tree.

What will she say? What will she do?

Knowing Melody, she’d want to meet him.
But what will he say?

More tears skipped down her face as she tried to imagine Lyfe’s reaction. The one emotion she knew he would feel would be hurt. It might even destroy him. A mountain grew in the center of her throat.

“I’m a horrible person,” she choked out. Even as more tears poured down her face, she leaned over and pressed a kiss against her daughter’s forehead. She turned and climbed out of bed. In the bathroom, she found her bottle of Excedrin and downed two pills.

After that, she was left to just stare at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair pointed in every direction, and her eyes were swollen from hours of crying. “You know
what you have to do.” She closed her eyes and pulled in another breath. This time there wouldn’t be any chance of packing up her things and flying to another city. It was time to face the music.

Sighing, Corona turned and walked out of the bathroom. She remained quiet enough to tiptoe out, grab the cordless phone and creep into the living room. Surprisingly, she found her father crashed on the sofa. She really must’ve passed out. Spotting his jacket draped over a chair, Corona grabbed it and then tiptoed out onto her private terrace.

Once there, the below zero chill had her tugging her father’s coat tighter across her body. She numbly dialed a number. While the phone rang, her heart abandoned its cozy spot inside her chest and decided to take up residency inside her throat. But the call wasn’t picked up, and she was forced to leave a message.

“Hello, Rowan. This is uhm, Coro—I mean Chloe. Forgive me, but I’ve had a very long day and I’m currently freezing my butt off out here on my terrace.” She swallowed and then tried to get to her point. “Look, I really need to talk to you—”
And I can’t break up with you over the phone.
“—so, please, give me a call as soon as you get this message. All right. ‘Bye.” She disconnected the call but continued to stand outside, while the cold wind crystallized the few tears that tried to slide down her face.