Authors: Pamela Yaye
“Is that what happened?”
“Isn't it?”
Paris unzipped her dress, watched it fall to the floor in a glitzy heap and kicked it aside. Standing in front of Rafael in just her jewelry made her feel confident, sexier than ever. Her alcohol-induced buzz was bringing out her inner sex kitten, a side she never knew she had, but wanted to discover.
“You're not wearing any panties.”
His breath tickled her ears and the lips between her legs.
“Are you disappointed?”
Rafael gave a slow nod. “I wanted to rip them off.”
“Next time.”
Crushing his lips to her mouth, he flicked and licked her tongue with his own. His hands rode up her thighs, stroked her hips and stomach. Moans and groans fell from her lips, becoming a slow, erotic chant. Her heart was beating fast, out of control, and she felt exhilarated, as if she was floating in the evening sky.
The room spun at a dizzying speed. Something primal came over her, something so strong and powerful she could hardly breathe. Her body shivered and trembled.
Her temperature climbed, shot through the roof like a rocket. Paris feared she was going to black out, wondered if it was possible for a woman to die of pleasure. Rafael was the world's greatest kisser, always had been. He did things with his lips and tongue that should be illegal. Tremors stabbed her flesh, zigzagged down her spine and legs.
I can't take any more.... This is all too much and we haven't even had sex yet!
Feeling hot way down below, as if her clit was on fire, she felt her limbs grow heavy and her body go weak. Paris loved taking charge in the bedroom and wasn't afraid to speak her mind, but Rafael didn't need any pointers. It was as if they were still in college, as if fifteen years hadn't passed since they'd last seen each other.
His touch was electrifying, the best thing that had ever happened to her body. Her urges grew stronger, more frenzied and intense. Paris needed him now, ached to feel him inside her, and what she did next shocked them both. She took his index finger, licked it like a lollipop and then guided it between her thighs. Hooking a leg around his waist, she thrust her hips forward, invited him to feel her wetness.
To give him better access to her clit, Paris arched her spine and spread herself wide open. He moved his fingers in and out, back and forth, from side to delicious side. Tingles danced up her thighs and warmed her throbbing, aching clit. Gripping his forearm to hold him in place, she rode his fingers hard and fast, with all the lust and desire pulsing through her veins.
Electric shocks pricked her flesh, stabbed and tickled her clit. Pleasure built, rose to unimaginable heights. Throwing her head back in ecstasy, Paris pressed her eyes shut and rode out the wave that claimed her body. Her climax was explosive, the most powerful orgasm she'd ever had, and several seconds passed before her feet touched the ground.
Hot and desperate for more, she seized his erection and stroked it over the lips between her thighs. Rafael groaned as if tormented, then pulled away. “We can't do this....”
Paris blinked, slowly surfaced from her haze. It was hard to focus, impossible to listen to what he was saying. Rafael was naked, standing before her in all his masculine glory with a long, thick erection. His length was unbelievable, jaw-dropping, and all Paris could think about was riding all eight inches.
“Angel eyes, we have to stop. I don't have any protection on me.”
Paris smiled, and her heart danced inside her chest. Hearing Rafael use her old pet name made her want him even more. “I'm on the pill, and I've never had an STD.”
“Me neither, butâ”
“You know me, Rafael. You can trust me.”
He paused and then shook his head. “There's a convenience store a few blocks from here. I'll be back before you know it.”
Paris locked her arms around his neck. For good measure, she cradled his head in her hands and made sweet, sensuous love to his mouth. “You're not going anywhere,” she whispered, scattering soft kisses along his jawline. “You're staying here with me, and that's that.”
A grin lit his eyes. “When did you get so feisty?”
“When you ripped off my designer gown.”
Rafael chuckled.
She sucked his earlobe into her mouth, showing him what he'd be missing if he ditched her. “Don't go. I need you right here, right now....”
A wild, crazed expression darkened his handsome face.
He gripped her hips, drove powerfully inside her, thrust in and out at a furious, frantic speed. His length consumed and possessed her. Rafael gave her everything he had, everything she needed. His stroke pushed her to the edge of delirium. Every grind shook her to the core. Their lovemaking was everything she was looking forâerotic, sensuous and passionateâand Paris didn't want it to ever end.
Rafael tickled her ear with his tongue, licked and nibbled as if it was a candy cane, and she all but lost her mind. Savage grunts and groans exploded from her mouth, and she bucked against him like an out-of-control mare.
To stop from crying out and waking up everyone on the sixth floor, Paris clamped her lips together and buried her face in his chest. The tingling sensation in her feet coursed up her legs and shot straight to her core. Spasms caused her muscles to tense, her G-spot to tingle and throb. Rafael had the best sexual technique known to man, and his moves were erotic. But what impressed her most was his selflessness. All he cared about was pleasing her, and she adored him for it. He was in a league of his own, and no one would ever take his place in her heart.
Rafael mashed her breasts together, and when he flicked his tongue over each erect nipple, an explosion erupted between Paris's legs. She couldn't think, lost all sense of time and place. Her body felt weightless, and she was quivering uncontrollably. Her breath came in short, quick gasps and her heartbeat drummed in her ears. Rafael clutched her hips and thrust so deep inside her she shuddered and climaxed. One orgasm followed another, and soon she lost count of how many times she'd come.
Seconds passed before the room stopped spinning. The fragrance of their lovemaking was intoxicating, a sweet aroma that filled every inch of her posh, sixth-floor suite. Paris opened her eyes, took one look at Rafael and decided the businessman with the brilliant mind and quiet demeanor was the sexiest man on the face of the earth. He'd brought her to orgasm in a way no one had before, and although they'd just finished, Paris was ready for rounds two, three and four.
Damn,
she thought, blowing out a deep breath.
“That was incredible,” Rafael exclaimed, lowering her to the ground.
“I bet you say that to all your lovers.”
He shook his head and cupped her chin in his palm. His gaze was deadly, filled with such passion and heat, it consumed her. “Not everyone. Just you.”
He spoke softly to her, in a quiet, subdued voice, but Paris heard his desire, his hunger. “You're a woman who isn't afraid to take control of her pleasure. I like that.”
“And I like the way you make me feel. Your stroke is out of this world.”
Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “Out of this world, huh?”
“You've always been a great lover, but that was toe-curling, head-spinning, mind-blowing good, and I can't wait for round two.”
“Why wait when there's plenty more where that came from?”
Chapter 9
“P
ick up, dammit.” Rafael paced inside the master bedroom of suite 608 in nothing but his black boxer briefs, cursing and mumbling in Italian. He glanced at the bedside clock, saw that it was nine o'clock and hoped luck was on his side. The bride and groom were leaving for their honeymoon at noon, and he had to speak to Stefano before the newlyweds boarded their flight for the Galapagos Islands. Rafael had a score to settle with Paris, and it couldn't wait.
At the thought of the captivating beauty who'd given him the best sex of his life, then promptly skipped town, his hands clenched into tight fists. Making love to Paris was supposed to alleviate his stress, and his growing anxiety about the future, but he'd never felt more alone. He was confused, out of sorts, and couldn't handle his emotions. Rafael felt a twinge in his heart, a pain that burned and throbbed inside the walls of his chest, and wondered what he'd done to deserve being used and ditched. He'd woke up an hour earlier, expecting to see Paris lying in bed beside him, but she was nowhere to be found. He'd never been rejected by a woman before, especially after a passionate sexual encounter, and didn't like the feeling.
His gaze bounced aimlessly around the suite. He felt strange being there without Paris, but didn't want to leave until he knew exactly where she was. But phone calls to the hotel spa, gym and restaurant confirmed his worst fear: she was gone. His first thought was to call her, but he didn't have her cell phone number. And since the front desk clerk wouldn't give it to him, tracking his best friend down was his only other option.
The call went straight to voice mail, and Rafael did what he'd done three times before: he hung up and hit Redial. Sunshine streamed in through the balcony doors, but the warmth did nothing to improve his mood. He was pissed, and he couldn't wait to get his hands on Paris Sex-Him-and-Leave-Him St. Clair. She'd sexed him in a hundred different ways, then disappeared like a thief in the night.
Who does that?
Rafael dropped down onto the chocolate-brown armchair, rested his cell phone on the side table and massaged his tired, aching shoulder muscles. Paris had worked him over real good last night, done things to him in bed that blew his mind. He'd woken up that morning hungry for more, only to find her gone, and her betrayal stung like hell.
As he shrugged on his wrinkled dress shirt and tuxedo pants, he spotted something shiny peeking out from underneath the king-size bed. Rafael bent down, lifted the blanket and picked up the diamond necklace. Holding it in his hands, he studied the delicate, heart-shaped locket.
No way,
he told himself, adamantly shaking his head.
This isn't it.
It can't be....
Rafael turned the pendant over, saw the inscription R.M.'s Girl, and knew it was the necklace he'd bought Paris for her twentieth birthday, the one he'd scrimped and saved to buy. Questions flooded his mind. Why had she kept the necklace all these years? Had she been wearing it all weekend? Why hadn't he recognized it before?
Because you were too busy drooling over her
curves,
his conscience reminded him.
Rafael heard his cell phone ring, surged to his feet and snatched it off the side table. He checked the screen, saw his best friend's phone number and sighed in relief. “I must have called you a dozen times. What took you so long to hit me back?”
“Well, good morning to you, too,” Stefano said with a chuckle. “What's up?”
“I need Paris's cell phone number.”
“That's why you've been blowing up my phone?”
Rafael tucked his wallet into his front pocket. “Just give me the number. I'm pressed for time.”
“What's the emergency?”
I had sex with Paris, and she skipped out on me in the middle of the night.
I want an explanation and I want it now!
Since Rafael couldn't tell his best friend the truth, not without raising suspicion, he lied. “I found her diamond necklace and I want to return it before she leaves for the States.”
“You're too late. Her flight was at 7:00 a.m. She's long gone.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, she had breakfast with Cassandra before she left for the airport.”
Rafael hung his head and dragged his hand down his face. He felt winded, as if he'd been kicked in the stomach.
“Just hang on to the necklace, and return it when Paris gets to Washington next Friday.”
His ears perked up. “Paris is going to be in Washington?”
“She didn't tell you?”
No, but I'm sure there are a lot of other things she conveniently forgot to share.
“She has some important business matters to attend to at Excel Construction, and she's also speaking at the Women's Business Expo in March,” Stefano continued.
Rafael's heartbeat quickened. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I got Cassandra tickets last week and she's superexcited about the event....”
An idea took shape in Rafael's mind as he listened to Stefano discuss the three-day conference at the W Hotel in Washington. Surprisingly, plotting his revenge, his sure-fire, get-even plan, gave him a natural high. He had to teach Paris a lesson, and knew just what to do to even the score.
“Thanks, man.” Rafael shoved the necklace into his pocket and slipped on his leather dress shoes. “Have a great honeymoon. We'll talk soon.”
Rafael snatched his tuxedo jacket off the chair and exited the suite. He heard someone shout his name and froze. Hanging his head, he released a deep, heavy sigh.
Damn.
Rafael glanced over his shoulder, spotted his brothers standing at the elevator. “Hey, guys, what's up?”
“I thought your suite was on the twentieth floor,” Demetri said, leaning against the wall.
“It is.”
“Then why are you sneaking out of Paris St. Clair's suite?”
“That's none of your damn business.”
Nicco snapped his fingers. “I knew it. You ditched us last night to hook up with Paris, didn't you? That's why you ignored my calls and texts.”
“I'll see you guys later. I have a meeting in Tuscany today, and I can't be late.”
“Not so fast, Casanova. Your meeting isn't until three o'clock, so that gives you plenty of time to have breakfast with your brothers.”
Rafael shook his head. “I have to pack.”
“You brought a carry-on bag. Won't take you long.”
The elevator doors slid open and his brothers pushed him inside.
“You have a lot of explaining to do, so we're heading down to the hotel restaurant.”
“I can't go in there dressed like this,” Rafael argued. “My clothes are a wrinkled mess.”
“That's your fault. Next time you get your freak on remember to hang up your suit!”
“Shut up, Nicco.”
Demetri wore a sympathetic smile. “Don't sweat it, bro. You look fine.”
Then looks can be deceiving,
he thought sadly.
I feel like crap.
An hour later, Rafael, Nicco and Demetri were sitting at a corner booth inside the hotel restaurant eating breakfast. The dining room was occupied with a few sleepy-eyed diners, the air was filled with lip-smacking aromas and the pop song playing created a light, festive atmosphere. His brothers were having a great time, laughing and cracking jokes about their night out on the town, but Rafael couldn't get his mind off Paris. And every time he spotted a women with long black hair enter the restaurant his heartbeat sped up.
“So, how was your night of sex and debauchery?” Demetri cut a glance at Nicco and cleared his throat. “What happened between you and Paris?” he asked, draping an arm casually over the back of the booth. “And what's with all this secrecy?”
“What is this, twenty questions?”
“I'm serious, Rafael. You've been acting strange the past few weeks, and this situation with Paris St. Clair just proves how much you've changed.”
I'm not the one who got engaged and became a love-struck fool, Demetri. You are!
Rafael picked up his mug and tasted his coffee. His brothers were watching his every move, and the air was thick with tension. Needing to clear his head, he told Demetri and Nicco about his mind-blowing attraction to his first love. He deliberately skipped past the intimate details of his erotic encounter with Paris and instead spoke about all the fun they'd had together last night.
“Where is Paris now?”
Rafael shrugged and picked up his fork. “Your guess is as good as mine. I woke up this morning and she was gone.”
“She left without saying goodbye?” Demetri gave his head a slow shake. “That's cold. No wonder you're pissed.”
“I'm not pissed.”
“Yes, you are. That's why your eyes are narrowed and your jaw is clenched. And if you gripped your water glass any tighter it would shatter into a million pieces.”
Rafael took a deep breath, hoping it would calm his nerves, but it didn't. Every time he thought about Paris skipping out on him he wanted to punch a hole in the wall.
“I have to ask.” Nicco leaned forward in his chair and stared Rafael dead in the eye. “Did you handle your business...in the bedroom?”
Rafael spoke through clenched teeth. “Just because I don't screw everything in a skirt doesn't mean I don't know how to please a woman.”
Nicco held up his palms. “Bro, relax! I'm just playing devil's advocate.”
“Spit it out. What are you trying to say?”
“Maybe it wasn't as good for her as it was for youâ”
“Or maybe Paris left because she's scared,” Demetri interjected.
“Of what?” Rafael asked, confused by his brother's words. “We're not strangers. We dated back in college, and we were extremely close.”
“That was fifteen years ago.” Demetri tossed a piece of cantaloupe into his mouth and chewed slowly. “Things are different now. Paris has changed, and so have youâ”
“Thank God for that, because you used to be the biggest geek ever!”
“At least I wasn't a man-whore,” Rafael retorted, glaring at Nicco.
“All right, guys, knock it off. We came here to talk, not to crack on each other.”
Silence fell across the table. Rafael finished his omelet, washed it down with the rest of his coffee and wiped his mouth with his gold-rimmed napkin. Hearing his cell phone buzz, he took it out of his jacket pocket and punched in his password. He had dozens of new text messages, but found his mind wandering as he stared at the screen. He longed to hear Paris's voice, to see her, and wondered if she was thinking about him.
Doubt it,
he thought glumly.
Why can't I meet an honest, trustworthy woman with family values and morals? And why can't she look, smell and sound like Paris St. Clair?
“Gerald called me this morning,” Nicco said.
Rafael glanced up from his cell phone. “He did? What did he say?”
“It looks like the arson investigation is finally heating up. No pun intended.”
“Was he able to get a copy of Gracie's cell phone records?”
“Yeah, and he struck pay dirt.” Nicco's eyes darkened a shade and held a menacing glare that spoke of his disgust. “The files prove Gracie and her brother, Trevor, were in Jariah's area at the time of the fire, and that's not all. Gracie was captured on video buying spray paint and bleach from a hardware store just days before Dolce Vita was trashed.”
“So the police think she's good for the break-in at your restaurant, the shooting at the Beach Bentley Hotel and the arson attack at Jariah's condo complex?” Demetri asked.
“Can't say for sure. I'll know more once Gerald meets with detectives on Wednesday.”
Rafael frowned and scratched his head. “You won't be at the meeting? But I thought you guys were heading back to Miami tonight?”
“We are, but Jariah and I have premarital counseling on Wednesdays, andâ”
“Premarital counseling?” Rafael repeated. “But I thought you were the perfect couple! At least that's the impression you've always given me.”
“We have a great relationship, but we don't always see eye to eye. No one does!”
“Are you thinking about postponing the wedding?” Demetri asked.
“Hell, no!” Nicco struck his fist on the table. “I'm marrying my baby and nothing's going to stop me.”
Demetri and Rafael chuckled. Nicco was a cutup, always laughing and telling jokes, but when he spoke about Jariah and her daughter, his eyes brightened, his chest puffed up with pride and he became serious.
“Jariah's my soul mate, and I plan to be with her until the day I die. Thanks to couples therapy I've found even more things to love about her. I know deep in my heart that I wouldn't be the man I am today without her.”
Intrigued, Rafael leaned forward. Normally, when his brothers started talking about their relationships, he zoned out, but today he wanted to hear what Nicco had to say. A year ago his bad-boy kid brother had had more groupies than any basketball team. Now he was crazy-in-love, engaged and so anxious to tie the knot it was all he could talk about.
“Relationships aren't easy, but I'm committed to making things work, and so is Jariah. We're in this thing together, and nothing can tear us apart.”
Maybe I'm going about this situation with Paris all wrong,
Rafael thought,
stroking his jaw
. Maybe I should take a softer approach.
“What are you going to do about Paris?” Nicco asked.
He shrugged a shoulder.
“Don't leave us hanging, bro. Spill the beans.”
“Why, so you can run back and tell your fiancées?” He gave a bitter laugh. “No way. Forget it. The fewer people who know about me and Paris the better.”
“I thought you liked Angela.” Demetri's voice was filled with hurt.