His Golden Heart (25 page)

Beau’s hungry tongue continued to probe her mouth. Delightful sensations ricocheted through her body, and she kissed him back with an enthusiasm never displayed before.

His fingers plucked at her nipples, circled, squeezed, molded. The kiss was broken only when he drew a nipple into his mouth and laved it with his tongue. His hand worked magic on the other one.

“Oh, God!”

Was that her voice she heard? It sounded hoarse, needy, out of control. Was that her pressing up against him, gyrating like a pole dancer with wild abandon?

“Time to move things to the bedroom,” Beau said, his own voice rough with need.

“No. Not a good idea. What if Kelly comes home?”

“What if she does? This is my home. We’re consenting adults.”

She’d forgotten about Kelly. Forgotten about everything except the way he made her feel. Still, going with him to his bedroom meant that she’d made a commitment to move this relationship along. She couldn’t deny that she wanted to make love to Beau. But once that line was crossed there’d be no turning back. And she still wasn’t sure what she wanted from him.

Beau was already up, leaning heavily on an ornate walking stick. He held out a hand to her.

“Wouldn’t you be better off in your chair?” she asked, stalling.

“I’m not about to roll out of a wheelchair and make love to you,” he growled. “I’m walking up that hall.”

She watched him; every step required effort. She held his hand, hoping to bear some of his weight. Slowly they treaded down the hallway.

Beau’s bedroom had been made wheelchair accessible and held minimal furniture. The idea being that Beau would not have to navigate around unnecessary obstacles. The walls were sand colored and the ceilings high. A giant bed with an elaborate wrought iron headboard and plush rust comforter dominated. Two nightstands were positioned next to it. A Queen Anne chair sat in close proximity to the bed, and an armoire holding a flat screen television and an assortment of audio equipment, had its doors wide open.

“Close the bedroom door,” Beau ordered, plunking himself down on the bed and gulping deep breaths of air.

Shayna poured water from the pitcher on top of the nightstand and handed Beau a glass.

He took a long sip, before saying, “Light those candles, will you?”

Shayna lit them inhaling the subtle scent of vanilla. Who would have guessed Beau was so romantic.

“Now pick out something you want to hear. Usher, Beyonce? We need mood music.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Sorry,” he said, sounding sheepish. “Guess I better tone it down.”

“Good idea.” She tried not to a smile. Beau’s personality was to take the lead. He needed to be in control. She selected a suggestive Beyonce tune and turned back to him. “Is this okay with you?”

“Perfect.”

The only thing missing was wine. But who needed it when she was already heady with desire? Desire for the man seated on the bed looking at her with such pent-up passion in his eyes.

Returning to Beau’s side, she took his face between her palms. “You are sweet so why don’t we take it nice and slow? Foreplay is a big thing with me.” The one thing she’d learned was to be assertive and ask for what you want.

“With me too,” Beau said, exhaling a breath slowly in her ear and sending the heat spiraling through her.

Shayna kissed him with all the love she’d held in these last few months. Soon she was lost in the feel of him, aware of only the candle’s smoky vanilla scent.

Beau’s hands were on her body, molding her flesh. She worked the remaining buttons of his shirt open and spread her fingers, letting them tangle in his chest hairs. She nuzzled her nose against his chest, found an already taut nipple, and tugged at it.

“Easy. No teeth,” he growled.

But even as he said that she noted he pebbled.

Time to turn the heat up another notch or two.

Shayna caressed the spot where Beau’s pants had tented. He gasped, and his hands moved lower, slipping under the elastic waist of her leggings, to cup her buttocks. Together they fell backward on the bed.

Beau tugged at her leggings, sliding them down past her ankles. Shayna toed off the bundled mass and heard his sharp intake of breath as he spotted the red lace panties she’d impulsively picked. She tugged at his zipper and was surprised to find that he wore black briefs.

“Let’s get you out of these,” she said, sliding his pants down muscular legs then helping to peel off his shirt.

He was beautiful to look at. All Hershey skin and toned physique. His shoulders were wide, his waist tapered. Those black briefs held a definite promise of a sizeable package. The remaining buttons of her shirt were ripped open, the fabric pushed aside. With a deft movement Beau unfastened her bra and her breast spilled out into his hands. She heard him gasp even as his mouth paid homage to her nipples and his hands kneaded the surrounding cushioning.

Shayna responded to his caresses with an abandon she did not know she possessed. She needed him to stroke her all over and touch all the places where she pulsed. She rubbed up against him.

Beau’s hands moved lower, circling her belly button, outlining the tattoo of the hummingbird on her hip. He slid his hand under the elastic waist of her panties, his fingers moving, probing, exploring.

“Get rid of these,” he whispered, sounding like he was choking.

“Help me get rid of them,” Shayna challenged.

“So we’re going to play that game, are we?” He asked, snapping the elastic band playfully.

“Ouch. No, we’re going to play this game.” Shayna clasped him through the black material of his briefs, reached inside, circled his shaft, and squeezed gently.

“Ah, baby, that feels good.”

“This will feel even better,” Shayna said, pushing his underwear aside and bending to give his throbbing member attention.

“Oh, God, it does. It does.”

The vanilla scent of the candle filled the air. Beyonce’s sultry voice took them to another place. Shayna wanted Beau wrapped around her. She wanted to get lost in all that body heat. Her gut told her he would be a safe place to let all her raw emotions out. She was drunk on him and totally mesmerized. Even wine didn’t have this hypnotizing effect.. Every pulse point throbbed and she tingled in places she didn’t know she could tingle. Her heart pounded. There was a roaring in her ears. Beyonce provided an alluring background beat. Shayna was on fire and felt like she would spontaneously combust.

Beau gently nudged her onto her back. His tongue trailed her stomach, licking and nipping before diving into her belly button and tugging at the little gold stud. Then he moved south and she thought she had gone to heaven. Beau’s fingers stroked her inner thighs, and she clamped them shut, successfully trapping his hand in the moist, warm, heat that he’d created. Beau’s finger plunged, exploring until he found her nub. Satisfied by her urging and writhing against him, he inserted another and again she thought she would die.

The heat spiraled through her. Her body was burning up, aching for him to fill her and give her the release she craved. She writhed beneath him, urging him on and then claimed his other hand, positioning it where she wanted it. But even his hand on her breast was not enough to satisfy this all-consuming need to have him inside her. She was beyond

caring about whether they would work or not. She was living in the moment and wanting him more than she had wanted any man. Everything would work itself out, somehow. Beau was well on his way to a complete recovery. He could find himself another therapist In fact, she would recommend one. That would leave them free to pursue a relationship.

Beau paused to kick off the briefs trapped at his ankles. He returned to kiss her in all her sensitive pulsing places and bury his nose in her mound. He plunged into her with his tongue. Shayna wrapped her thighs more firmly around his broad back, urging him to enter her.

When Beau surfaced to catch his breath, he claimed her mouth. “You’re ready, hon.”

Speech was beyond her and she could only nod. Beau reached onto the nightstand, found a condom, and slid one on. Propping himself up on his elbows, he used his knees to ease her legs apart, positioning himself to enter her. White heat engulfed Shayna as his hot breath warmed her face. Beyonce’s voice dipped and soared in the background and the scented candle mingled with the pungent smell of sex. There was no turning back. Beau was inched himself inside of her and she was loving that feeling of him stroking, stoking a fire and letting the rhythm build. Although he didn’t know it, he was driving her wild. She clutched the bedclothes and tried not to scream out his name, but even so she couldn’t help herself.

“God, Beau,” she said, stuffing a curled fist in her mouth. “I want every inch of you inside me.”

Every entrance and exit made Shayna want him even more.

I love the touch of your skin, baby,” Beau whispered in her ear. “Can you feel me inside you? I love the way you smell. I love you. Say it, baby, say it. Tell me you feel the same way.”

“I love you, Beau.”

“Oh, baby. That’s music to my ears.”

He slammed in and out of her and in again, pounding away, demanding what she wasn’t quite ready to give; her total commitment. Not until after the trial, not until she knew how things shook out.

“I love you, Beau.” Was that her really saying that?

She’d never have guessed he could be so intense. So good at making love. He called out her name again. “Shayna.”

She now matched him move for move, oblivious to anything else except his body wrapped around hers and the driving heat that kept building. The muscles around her vagina clenched, trembled, and spasmed. She exploded in a white ball of fire, choking out one last sentence. “I love you, Beau.”

“And I love you,” he gasped, before he too exploded.

Somewhere in the background a phone rang and voicemail eventually picked up. The requisite greeting came on before a woman’s voice came over loud and clear.

“Beau-Beau, I’m back. Missed you like crazy, baby. Ice the champagne. Get out the caviar. I’m coming over.”

“Better get dressed,” Beau ordered, breaking their connection abruptly. “That was Chandra. She’s still got my key.”

Reality had returned rudely in the form of the woman, supposedly his former lover.

Chapter Twenty-one

Chandra’s call couldn’t come at a worse time, not when he was finally making headway with Shayna and was attempting to convince her he loved her. She’d told him she loved him too.

By expressing that sentiment she’d granted him a very special gift. Hope! He felt as if anything was possible now, that soon he might even ski again. Beau bolted upright, that abrupt action successfully dislodging Shayna, who was cuddled up against him.

“Get dressed,” he repeated, dousing cold water on any shred of after-lovemaking intimacy. He was already scrambling for the clothing he’d tossed on the floor. He flung items he thought were hers at her, found his pants, struggled into them, minus underwear, and helped her button her shirt. Shayna still hadn’t uttered a word.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Beau said. “Let me get rid of her.”

She eyed him as if he were a lunatic, words finally pouring out of her. “Don’t do it on my account, I’m leaving.”

“What? Why? I said I would get rid of her.” He found his shirt and buttoned it quickly.

“I should never have allowed this to happen,” Shayna said, looking at him like she wanted to take off his head. You’re a liar. You told me you and Chandra were over.”

“We are,” he said, kissing the back of her neck.

She jerked away from him. “Don’t touch me.” Shayna’s voice was as cold as ice chips.

“I didn’t know she would come over uninvited,” Beau argued, attempting to touch her arm.

Shayna faced him, looking ready to spit “The woman has your key,” she enunciated. “That implies she’s welcome here anytime. Men don’t give women keys unless they’re important to them.”

“At one point she was,” Beau admitted. “But she no longer is. We’re over. I just didn’t have time to get the key back.”

Shayna shook her head and turned away from him. “Tell that to someone else. Is there another way to get out of here?”

The sound of the front door slamming got both of their attentions.

“Shit,” Beau repeated. “Shit.” It was the only word that seemed fitting for the pickle he’d gotten himself in.

“Yes, there’s another way out.” He grabbed Shayna’s shoulders and steered her toward the French door at the rear of the bedroom. “Cross the patio and you’ll come out at the back of the house. I’ll call you later.” He tried a quick kiss, but she glared at him, making a fist as if he repulsed her.

“Don’t bother.”

Shoeless, she took off.

Footsteps headed his way. Too late Beau realized that Shayna had left her bra and panties on the floor. He picked up both garments and stuffed them in his pocket.

There was a pounding on his door.

“Beau. Open up.”

“Can’t a man have his privacy?”

“Beau, it’s Kelly. Is everything okay?”

His sister, thank God. The fight went out of him.