Lovin' Blue (12 page)

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Authors: Zuri Day

BOOK: Lovin' Blue
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23
The air felt warm, almost moist against Eden's bare skin. Tendrils of hair swung close to her nose, teasing her with a whiff of the vanilla-and-gardenia-infused perfume she'd sprayed in it after deciding to let it hang loose and free. Eden felt wanton and sexy as she neared Jansen's front door. She wore the barely there gold nighty as a top, paired with wide-legged pants—shear, paisley-print fabric flecked with black and gold. At the last minute, she'd slipped out of her flat leather sandals and into a pair of four-inch shiny black stilettos.
Eden reached her destination and rang the doorbell. Almost instantly the door opened and Jansen pulled her into his arms. Kicking the door closed, he immediately assaulted her mouth, plunging his tongue deep inside, rubbing her back, arms, and butt with his large, strong hands. “Damn, baby. . . .” Jansen broke the kiss but kept his arms securely around Eden's body. She'd wrapped her arms around his waist and now luxuriated in his protective embrace. He smelled so clean and fresh and . . . male. Both of their hearts beat wildly. Jansen squeezed Eden's luscious butt cheeks while she turned her head to place a kiss on his bare chest. It was hard and soft at the same time—hard with muscle and perfectly placed sinew, soft with skin that was warm to the touch. The merest hint of hair lay across his chest, a trail of it continuing down his stomach and into his crotch.
“Little garden, let me look at you.” Jansen stepped away from Eden and eyed her from head to toe. Eden grew warm under his perusal but met his stare head-on. There was no place for a shrinking violet anywhere among what she'd envisioned for the evening. Jansen licked his lips, and her nipples hardened. “You're looking even better than the last time I saw you.”
“You look good, too,” Eden answered as she did her own quick head-to-toe. Jansen's dress was simple: a pair of black, pull-on pajama pants that rode his hips. No shirt, no shoes. The attire gave Eden an unobstructed view of perfection and caused the now familiar squiggle to begin its dance.
“Mmmm,” Jansen began, pulling Eden farther into his home. “You make a brothah forget his manners. Are you hungry? Want something to drink?”
“I've already eaten, but maybe something to drink.”
A few minutes later, Jansen came back into the living room with a bottle of beer and a glass of wine. “I knew this is what you'd want,” he said, handing her the stemmed glass.
“Ah, thanks for thinking of me.” She took a small sip.
“I told you that is all I've been doing since last night, when our date was rather rudely interrupted. After talking with you earlier, I ran out real quick—bought some wine and some . . . healthy junk.”
“Ha! And what, pray tell, fits your description of that?”
Jansen reclined against the couch. “Some salad, nuts—I even bought some of those nasty patties you fix.”
Eden was touched and impressed. But she hid suddenly vulnerable feelings behind a jokey facade. “Dang, Jansen, I appreciate the gesture, but it's not like I'm moving in.”
“Maybe not,” Jansen answered, pulling Eden into his arms. “But we're getting ready to work up quite the appetite.”
Eden nestled into Jansen's embrace. They shared a companionable silence as they sipped their drinks. “I like your place.”
“You haven't even seen it yet.”
“Well, what I have seen, I like. It looks like you and doesn't have that bachelor-pad vibe I envisioned. You know the look: black leather, wild-animal prints, and a nude painting or two thrown in for good measure.”
“Nah, all that is upstairs,” Jansen joked.
Eden looked around and took in the understated elegance of a room designed to be functional yet warm. The tan sofa sectional dominated the space, a dark cherry wood bringing balance with the large square coffee table and dining room table beyond it. A sleek entertainment center dominated one wall, its doors accented with large bronze knobs. The other wall in the room was bare except for a metal carving of Chinese symbols and two complementing abstract paintings.
Eden's perusal was interrupted by a hand reaching into her top and gently squeezing her nipple. “Let's go upstairs,” Jansen whispered. She nodded. He stood, reached for hand, and led the way.
The master suite was at the end of a short hallway. Eden could see the glow of candles before they entered the room. Once inside, her eyes immediately went to the king-size platform bed that dominated the space, made up with fabrics in chocolate and gray. The headboard was tall, almost to the ceiling, and seemed to be made out of the same wood as the tables downstairs. Eden was vaguely aware of the pewter candle holders from which the flames danced, but then Jansen turned around, and her eyes were for him alone.
“Come here.” Jansen looked massive and majestic, his authoritative voice matching his stance.
Eden complied. When she reached him, Jansen buried his hands in her hair, gently pushed her head back, and rained kisses down on her face and neck. While he claimed her mouth, branding each crevice with his tongue, Jansen reached underneath her top, felt the elastic band around her pants, and eased them downward. He went down with them, easing himself into a kneeling position as he silently commanded her to step out of the material now pooled on the floor. He pulled her close to him, buried his head in her heat, and inhaled deeply. “Mmmm . . .” His tongue was stiff and forceful as he licked her there through the wispy fabric of the thong. Eden shivered, placing a steadying hand on Jansen's shoulder.
“Spread your legs.” Again, Eden complied. At the moment, Jansen could have told her to turn a flip from the top banister to the floor below—and she would have complied. Jansen eased a finger between the flimsy thong material and Eden's hot skin. He looked up and into Eden's eyes as he slowly stroked her rectangular patch of hair. He ran a finger along the folds to her treasure. She looked at him for a moment before her eyes fluttered closed. For this reason, she didn't see when Jansen's tongue replaced his finger, only felt the wet tip as it slid inside her heat and flicked her petal, just like he said he would. The apex of her thighs felt the void as soon as Jansen raised his head and ran his tongue up to her navel. He squeezed her lush booty as he placed feathery kisses across her waist and then reached for the thong's string and pulled. He eased the triangle of fabric down her legs and then stood, picked up Eden, and walked to the bed.
Eden's breath caught as she was whisked up in Jansen's arms. She felt the evidence of his desire while pressed against him, which was only for a moment. Jansen reached the bed and placed her at the center of it. He stepped back and released the drawstring on his pants. Nine inches of throbbing masculinity danced before her, like a fencer's sword or a ballplayer's slugger. His dick was thick and perfectly formed. With her ex-husband, Eden hadn't been too into oral sex, but at this moment her mouth watered with anticipation. She wanted to taste Jansen the way he'd tasted her.
But not yet. Jansen had other plans. He eased onto the bed, reached for Eden's top and pulled it over her head. His eyes drank in the body he'd viewed with new eyes ever since seeing Eden again after so many years. “You're even more beautiful than I imagined.” He slid his body next to Eden's as his lips grazed hers. He continued his assault, on her neck and shoulders, all the while flicking and rubbing one nipple and then the other with his thumb. By the time he covered the hardened peaks with his mouth, Eden was on fire. Her body writhed this way and that. Jansen was driving her crazy, and after four years without intercourse, she wanted to feel his hard, thick flesh inside her, and she wanted to feel it now.
“Jansen, now, please . . .”
“Baby, I want to take my time with you. You taste so good. . . .”
“Please . . . I need it. . . .”
Jansen placed his hand between her legs and slid his middle finger in deep. “You need
it,
or you need
me.
I want you to need me, baby . . . only me.”
“I need . . .” Eden couldn't think, much less talk, with Jansen's hand causing such delicious sensations throughout her body.
Jansen slid down farther, and soon, once again, his tongue replaced his finger. But this time his strokes were deep and aggressive, branding her with his hotness, driving her over the abyss with the sweetest torture.
Just as Eden felt the tremors of an oncoming orgasm, Jansen stopped, rolled over, and reached toward his nightstand. “No, don't . . .” she whimpered.
Jansen quickly unrolled the condom and shielded his sword. “Eden, do you want me? Do you need me?” He placed his shaft at the tip of her entrance, taunting, teasing. . . .
“Yes!” Eden gasped.
“Then say it.”
Eden reached for his hips, tried to force him inside her.
“Say it,” he murmured, grinding his hips and slipping in just a bit more.
“I want you,” Eden murmured. “I need you, Jansen. Please, I need you now!”
“And you are going to have me, all of me, for as long as you can stand it.”
Jansen inched his way inside her, giving her body time to adjust to his size. And then, for the next hour and a half, their hot, impassioned lovemaking was the only conversation.
24
“Damn, man! What's up with this whistling?” Alberto closed the passenger door of the police cruiser and buckled his seatbelt. “Did you win the lottery or something?”
Jansen went through a quick check of the radio, mirrors, and laptop. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Jay, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were on the rag. Yesterday you barely said two words and then almost snapped my head off when I made the observation. Now today you're whistling and grinning like . . . Wait a minute. Of course! The feline!”
Jansen shot a quick glance at Alberto. “You're reading too much into my good mood. You need to get out more, son.”
“From the way you're acting all chipper after a little
cho cha
. . . you don't need to get out more, you just need to
get
more.”
“You might be right,” Jansen agreed, refusing to say more about how one night with one woman had turned his world upside-down. In the past, it wouldn't have been unusual for Jansen to kiss and tell, to rehash with Alberto a night of freaking some lovely. But nobody would hear about what he and Eden had shared. The beauty of that was special and for them alone.
Jansen turned off Crenshaw onto Slauson Avenue, headed toward the scene of a recent robbery. This crime had turned ugly because, unfortunately, on this day that the store was closed to the public, the owners had been in their office at the back of the store when the would-be burglars had come in. The man had pulled out a weapon and tried to defend his property and had gotten shot for his troubles. His wife, who'd stepped out of the office to use the restroom, had heard the confrontation and jumped into a large utility closet to hide. From there, she'd viewed the surveillance camera and gotten a stellar view of her attackers. Jansen and Alberto were on their way to interview her.
“You think it's the same dudes trying to rob this spot?” Alberto asked, changing the subject. It was clear that whoever had Jansen as giddy as a schoolgirl would remain his secret. For now. But Alberto was sure he'd learn the details eventually. There was very little about the Gonzalez family to which Jansen was not privy. That's just the way these partners rolled.
Jansen nodded. “Probably.”
Alberto flipped through a stack of papers. “I got a report on her old man. He's out of intensive care but still in serious condition. The bullet missed main arteries by inches but is still lodged in his back. They're waiting until his organs get a bit stronger before making the final decision on whether to try to remove it.”
“His wife was smart to do what she did,” Jansen said. “If she hadn't hid, she would have been shot, too.”
“Hell, yeah, they would have got her. No doubt about that. They probably thought they killed her husband. That's—hold on a minute.” Alberto reached for his cell phone. “Yeah,
mami
,” he answered. “Probably the same time I always get home. Why?” Jansen could hear Delphia's animated voice from where he sat, though he couldn't make out her words. “What is it? Just go ahead and tell me.” Alberto frowned. “Why did you even call me then? Damn, girl, you trippin'.” He ended the call.
Jansen waited a beat before speaking. “What was that about?”
Alberto sighed. “Delphia's pregnant.”
“What? That's what she just told you?”
“No. She wants to tell me tonight in person.”
“So how do you know she's pregnant?”
“The same way I knew she was pregnant the first two times. My ass gets morning sickness before she does.”
Jansen laughed. “Right! I remember that time we stopped and ate some Louisiana Chicken, and you got sick as a dog! Seven months later, your son was born.”
“Yeah, I thought I was going to get to retire after suing the restaurant, and then I found out it was little Alberto making me sick!”
“So number four is on the way, huh? Is this the last one?”
“It could be as far as I'm concerned, but not if Delphia has anything to say about it. That woman loves being pregnant.”
“Well . . . congratulations, man.”
They neared the jewelry store that had been robbed. As they turned into the parking lot, Jansen thought about how it might be to have a family, and how cute a certain female would look if she were carrying his child.
“Her name is Eden,” he said to Alberto as the two exited the vehicle.
Alberto nodded, a big, knowing smile on his face. “I know a
cho cha
whistle when I hear one.”

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