Authors: Destiny's Surrender
Alanza chuckled softly. “You’ve strength and heart, Billie. Careful. I’ll wind up loving you as much as I do Mariah.”
Even though it was nice to hear, Billie didn’t believe a word of it.
After Tonio was placed into the crib and covered up, Billie said quietly, “The only thing I will insist upon is being the last person to kiss him good night.”
“Then I shall give him my kiss now and step out of your way.”
The kisses were placed and both mama and
abuela
were pleased.
While he slept on oblivious to the issues surrounding the adults in his life, Alanza asked her, “And how did the wedding go?”
She responded with a shrug of her shoulders. “We said, I do. We didn’t kill each other. We drove back here.”
“I hope you forgive me one day.”
“No forgiveness needed. I got what I wanted for my son. That’s all that matters. I’ll live.”
“And Drew?”
“He’ll live, too.”
Amusement curved Alanza’s lips. “There’s dinner for the two of you in his room. I know neither of you wish to celebrate but I thought you might be hungry.”
“Thanks, but I’m not. I think I’ll take a walk to clear my mind and then call it a day.”
“After we have dinner,” countered a firm, familiar voice.
Billie spun to see her husband standing in the doorway. “I’m not hungry.”
“Hungry or not, there’s business to discuss before I leave in the morning.”
“Can’t it wait until you return?”
“No.”
Her sigh of angry frustration was audible. “Where are your rooms?”
“Backside of the house.”
She gave a quick look to the sleeping baby. Alanza seemed to sense her unspoken concerns. “I’ve some reading to catch up on. I can wait here with him until you’re done.”
“Thank you.” After giving her son and the silently observing Alanza a parting glance, she crossed to the door. Drew moved aside to let her pass and she was escorted away.
H
e led her down the hall and around to a section of the sprawling house she’d not yet seen. The large wooden door that he stopped before appeared to be very old. The corners of its face were embellished with vertical strips of scrolled metal held in place by aged silver hobnails. She wanted to ask about its origins but he opened it, stepped back and gestured for her to precede him in. As she did so, she stopped. A beautifully set table covered with a flowing gold cloth sat like something out of a dream in the middle of the room. Tall silver candlesticks held burning candles whose twinkling points of flame played gently over the elegant china, the silver tops of the covered dishes and tableware. She turned to him with surprise.
Again, he gestured her forward. Everything her eyes touched made her heart beat harder—from the table to the large crystal vase of red roses in its center, to the fire dancing in the grate. An archway at the far end of the room led somewhere but she was too busy marveling to give it more than a passing glance.
“My mother went a bit over the top, I’m afraid.”
“I think it’s very beautiful,” she whispered as if speaking loudly might somehow break the trance.
“Shall we?”
She sat down in a lovely upholstered chair, and once she made herself comfortable he walked around to his seat on the opposite side of the table.
To Drew, she was even more beautiful than he remembered, thus the problem. Thanks to the vows he’d made to Rosaline and her mother, he’d been celibate for the past twelve months, and just looking at Billie brought home how long he’d gone without. Every fiber in his being wanted to scoop her up, carry her into his bedroom and make hard, hot love to her until sunrise, even as his mind recoiled in response to the maddening circumstances that brought them together. Outwardly he was hard as a beam of steel. Within, anger boiled like a witch’s cauldron. Pushing that aside, he picked up the bottle of champagne standing near the roses. “Would you care for some?”
“No, thank you.”
He slowly poured the fine liquid into his flute. Compared to the tequila he’d overloaded on last night, the champagne would be potent as lemonade, but he needed something to take the edge off in order to maintain his control. Sipping, he watched her silently.
“So, what is this business you wanted to discuss?” she asked.
He set down his drink and removed the tops from the dishes to reveal an array of meats and vegetables. “I’m hungry, so let’s eat first. What would you like?”
It was easy to see she hadn’t enjoyed being put off, but she begrudgingly held out her plate. “The chicken and some rice.”
He did the honors and handed back the now filled plate.
“Thank you.”
For himself, he forked out a steak and added vegetables and bread.
While they ate in silence Drew mentally recounted the problems he had with this marriage and they were as many as the Sierras were high, least of which being his continuing belief that she’d gotten herself with child on purpose. She’d never impressed him as the scheming type, but what was a man to think when presented with a child out of the blue? Then there was the problem of scandal. Billie was fairly well known in San Francisco, and even if no one in the small towns near Destiny knew of her background, he doubted it would remain a secret for long. His mother seemed certain she’d weather the storm, but people were cruel. Some in and out of her circle of acquaintances, like Emmalina Ruiz, would take great pleasure in disparaging her because of her infamous new daughter-in-law’s past. Another issue high on his list was his personal doubts surrounding the child’s upbringing. His own father died when he was young and outside of a few male relatives in Mexico and the presence of Max Rudd, there’d been no influential men in his life. Sure, he could teach the boy to read, ride, and shoot, but everything else of substance had been taught to him by his mother. Did fathers teach things differently? Drew didn’t know. He sighed. What a mess, and he’d yet to tell Billie their marriage needed to be consummated in order to insure all the legalities.
Billie was uncomfortable to say the least, and it kept her from fully enjoying the well-prepared food. Although Drew was being polite she sensed the roiling beneath the mask, and it, coupled with her lingering resentment over the nasty argument they’d had earlier, made the atmosphere tense.
“I assume we’ll be consummating the wedding.” The way he paused and studied her let her know she’d caught him off guard. “Is that why we’re here?”
He put down his fork and sat back with his arms folded over his chest. For a moment he said nothing as if trying to gauge her mood. “Yes. You’re thinking?”
“What has to be done, has to be done.”
His jaw tightened but she didn’t care. After all the fun and laughter they’d shared, being called a conniving bitch hurt. “Then let’s get it over with so I can return to the baby.”
Tossing her linen napkin onto the table, she stood. “Do you want me clothed or nude? Your choice.” Her hands went behind her neck to remove the emeralds.
“Leave them on.”
The heat in his eyes was as familiar as her own heartbeat, and in spite of her intent to remain cold and unfeeling it lit her as well.
“Come here.”
Lips tight, she walked over. When she reached his side he took her hand. Gently drawing her down onto his lap, he raised her chin so her angry eyes would meet his. She saw a mixture of pain and yearning, and what appeared to be concern before he eased her close against his chest and whispered, “My apology for being so callous earlier.”
Billie swore she would strangle herself with her own bare hands if she showed him her tears.
Again, he whispered, “I’m sorry.” He drew back and used a finger to gently trace her cheek. “This is our wedding night, the only one we’ll have. Can we pretend, just for tonight that all’s well between us?”
A portion of her heart leapt with joy, but the parts that knew he’d be leaving in the morning doused the joy like water on a fire. “Sure, Drew. Whatever you want.”
“You aren’t going to make this easy, are you?”
Regardless of the future, she knew she had an array of weapons at her disposal; weapons he’d succumbed to willingly once upon a time. If she wielded them correctly, her revenge would not only be sweet, but could possibly leave him with plenty to think about on the train ride away from her. With that in mind, she asked sultrily, “You prefer I make it—hard?” and she moved her hips slowly and enticingly against his lap. A smile slid into his eyes. As long as she kept her emotions in check, all would be well.
But he began to brush his mouth lightly and compellingly against hers, something he’d never done before. It was so enticing and touched her so deeply, her lips parted of their own accord. His tongue came next, lightly tracing the fullness of her bottom lip, releasing small frissons of need as he seduced the corners and slid it inside to taste her. She needed to stay aloof in order to have the upper hand, but her walls were dissolving.
And this is why whores don’t kiss
, complained a small voice somewhere in her head. This was too dazzling, too arousing. The pressure of his mouth, the gentle possessiveness of his hand as he brought her closer, the feel of his lips against her jaw made her senses open like a rose at sunrise, bringing to the fore all she felt for him in her heart and the urge to kiss him back so that he’d be lost just like she’d become.
And she was lost, in the intensity of him, the scent of his cologne, the memories they shared. He lowered his lips to her throat and drank in the flesh above the emeralds while the hot point of his tongue singed the expanse below. She’d always been good at pretending at passion, but this was so real, he could take her right there in the center of the table or on the rug covering the floor, and she wouldn’t care. He enjoyed going slowly however. Making her soar to the pinnacle of pleasure with his touch and the placement of his kisses had always been his way, and as they sat in the candlelit silence, tonight was no exception. His hands relearned the lines of her spine and the small of her back, while his kiss greeted the soft skin beneath her ear. He recaptured her lips and as he did, she ran her hands slowly up and down his powerful arms encased in the fine cloth of his coat and bit his earlobe softly.
“
Dios
, I want you.”
“Then have me,” she whispered invitingly. “However you want, wherever you want.”
With a groan, he picked her up and carried her through the archway into his bedroom.
Under the soft glow of the lone lamp, he set her on her feet. Lips locked to hers, he managed to shuck free of his jacket, then stepped back. The sounds of his heightened breathing mingled with hers. She slid her hands behind her to undo her dress but the hooks were unfamiliar and her efforts only resulted in frustration.
“Turn for me,” he coaxed softly.
She complied, and as he freed the hooks, his lips slowly toured her bared shoulders and back. Although they’d come together in bed dozens of times before, this felt different somehow. There was a gentle savoring he’d never exhibited before. His caresses lingered. His hand slowly circling her spine touched her as if she were a woman he treasured and adored. She had no idea what it meant but she gave herself over and reveled in it.
Dazzled by sensations, and holding the opened dress close to her body, she turned to face him and took a small step back. His glowing eyes matched the tongue of flame in the lone lamp and the flame he’d put in her blood. Emboldened, she let the dress slowly slide to the floor and stood before him nude as Venus. His stunned face made her laugh softly, “What’s the matter?”
“You’ve been like that all evening?”
“I don’t own any underwear as fine as the dress, so I went without. I’d have let you know earlier but you didn’t seem much interested.”
“Cheeky woman. I should paddle your luscious behind.”
“I’m waiting.”
He beckoned her with a finger and she sauntered over.
He took her in with hungry adoration. “You’re fuller.”
“It’s from the baby.”
“I owe him my thanks.” The pregnancy hadn’t added much flesh to her frame, but where before she’d had the lean lines of a thoroughbred, there was now a lush voluptuousness in her breasts and hips that made him want to demand she be nude forever. A small voice reminded him that he could now that she was his wife, but he pushed it aside, preferring to concentrate on the present. And what a present she was. He teased a finger over a nipple until it berried then lowered his head to feast. While she moaned softly, he coursed a hand down her belly to her thighs and explored the dark humid place within. He increased the intensity of his explorations until her hips were moving and she widened her stance for more.
“Come for me, baby.”
It had been so long since she’d been touched that Billie abandoned her plans to conquer, and surrendered to the wanton workings between her thighs and his mouth on first one breast and then the other. The tugs of his teeth and the hot circling of his tongue made every inch of her body bloom. She sensed the orgasm forming and beginning to rise like swells on a sea and she tried to stave it off so the pleasuring wouldn’t end, but he knew how to send her over the edge. Her cry of completion pierced the silence. He smiled and kept up his play until she was twisting and calling his name in a voice made raw by passion. Only then did he lead her to the bed.
He joined her, kissing her, mapping her shoulders and waist while gruffly promising how he planned to love her and for how long. Fitting actions to those promises, his lips traveled over her skin, stopping along the way to feast again on the damp tight buds of her breasts and to smooth his hands over the curves and valleys he’d once known so well. He journeyed lower to greet the small indentation of her navel while his hands spread her legs and caressed them from thigh to knee, and then up to the center of her soul.
Billie had been celibate for over a year and even with the release of her first orgasm she was well on the way to paradise again. Whatever possessed her to believe she could remain immune to a man who knew her body so intimately and who possessed a host of carnal weapons uniquely his own? The soft touches made her moan. The leisurely tasting that followed made her raise herself greedily to his ardent mouth and croon for more. He spent a few scandalous moments concentrating on the small fleshy nubbin that defined her as woman, and when he suckled it in and bit down gently the second orgasm broke her apart with such force, joy sprang from her lips. Her body bucked and stiffened, but as always he wasn’t done with her. He continued the pleasuring, holding her in place even as the sensations drove her mad. “Drew . . .” He added his fingers to the overwhelming plundering, making her cry out again and again. Finally when she had nothing left to give, he smiled up over her thighs like a pleased male and withdrew.
Shaking, dazed and so deep in the throes of passion, Billie could do nothing but lie there on the bed and pulse.
God, she’d missed him—this
. Only he had the ability to make her lose her sanity, and even if the house were suddenly afire, she wouldn’t have been able to move, but move she did, because she had to pay him back for such sweet torture.
When he stood to remove his trousers, she whispered. “Let me.”
His hands fell away in tandem with his smile. “Whatever the lady wants.”
Locking onto his smoldering gaze and wanting him to remember this night and her for eternity, she made short work of his belt and freed the buttons on the placard of his trousers. With a bold move she slowly pushed them down his thighs and took hold of him through his underwear. A slow stroking commenced. His head rolled back. His eyes closed, and he gritted out, “Damn, I’ve missed you.”
Soundlessly, she lowered his underwear and dropped to her knees. “I’ve missed you, too.” And proceeded to show him just how much.
Drew almost came there and then. Her scandalous expertise made his knees buckle and fight with everything he had not to explode like a virgin adolescent. While she kept up her erotic ministrations, he growled his pleasure and leaned forward to slide his palms across her damp satiny back and the tempting flare of her hips. Because of all the pleasure so far, he felt himself tottering on the bright edge of his limit, so he backed out of her hold, breathing like he’d run a race. Her ragged breathing matched his and was manifested in the tantalizing rise and fall of her breasts.