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It's Never Easy: A Boudreaux Universe Novel

Page 9

by Dani Rene


  He’s much bigger than any of the guys I’ve been with prior. And I wonder briefly just how I’m going to take that.

  Julian leans over and opens the nightstand, pulling out a foil wrapper, which I watch him rip open. I’ve not really ever watched a guy do this, but seeing Julian’s big hands sheath himself makes my body even hotter than I ever thought possible.

  I scoot back on the mattress as he nestles himself between my thighs. “I’ve been craving to feel you for a while.” His voice is husky, rasped with desire.

  “Then you better have at it, Mr. Elliot,” I tease him, leaning forward and kissing him on the lips. It’s as if our mouths fusing is the fuel on the crackling kindle because he nudges my opening.

  His movements are gentle. He slips inside me slow and steady, but with his girth and length, I feel myself stretching to accommodate him. Julian peppers kisses over my face, my cheeks, and down my neck as he sinks deeper with every thrust.

  “You feel so good, Nea,” he groans when I think he’s fully seated, because he stills for a long moment. My legs are wide. He’s taking all of me, hovering over me like a man in dire need of his release. Our gazes lock, and I offer him a shy smile. He hasn’t taken my T-shirt off yet, and I wonder if he’s going to.

  “Julian.” I whimper his name when he pulls out slowly, then drives back in. His hips pushing me into the soft mattress.

  “I need to see you,” he tells me, moving up so he’s kneeling between my legs, our connection never broken. “Off with that shirt, now,” he orders gruffly, the words racing down my spine and to my clit. I tug at the hem, pulling the item of clothing from my body, and his dark eyes stare down at me with pure, feral hunger.

  “Fuck, Nea, you’re so perfect. So goddamned perfect,” he growls, his eyes practically eating me up just with that dark stare of his.

  His hands reach for my breasts, toying with my nipples as he starts moving. Thrusting into me, deeper and deeper, hitting places inside me I didn’t know were there.

  I watch in awe as his abs tense and relax with every movement, how his body owns mine for those long moments. We fit together. My body molds to his, feeling every inch as he takes me harder and faster with every passing second.

  My toes curl as I feel the pressure build. I’m lost to it. I allow myself to let my guard down. Julian leans in, his face inches from mine, and I wrap my arms around his neck, needing to feel his skin on mine. My hard buds rub along his chest, the feeling sparking desire and life and happiness inside me.

  “Oh god, Julian,” I cry out once more as he reaches between us, his fingers toying with my clit, circling it, over and over again, pressing harder against the hard nub, and I find myself right on the edge.

  “Look at me, Nea. I want to see your pretty eyes,” he tells me, his mouth whispering over mine.

  We’re so close, inches apart, practically one person in this moment. I open my eyes and look directly at him. His tongue darts out, licking my lips, soft and gentle, and I suck it into my mouth, grazing it with my teeth, which earns me an animalistic growl, and I feel his cock throb inside me, thickening, opening me even more, and I can’t help but moan and whimper all at the same time.

  “That’s it, darling, come for me, come with my cock in your tight pussy. Fuck, it feels so good,” he tells me, each word dripping lust. He circles my clit once more before pinching it hard, causing me to cry out, trying to arch myself flush against him, and I tip over that edge. I shudder as pure bliss skitters over me and through me. The knot that had been so tight, so unmoving, unravels, and I come hard.

  It doesn’t take long for Julian to join me in the euphoria that’s taken hold of my body, and I feel him pulse inside me as my body takes his orgasm. He doesn’t move for a long while until I finally open my eyes again. There’s a grin of happiness on his face, and I knew if he smiled like this, I would never be able to resist him.

  “You’re . . .” I can’t find words, so I allow myself to just bask in the afterglow of my orgasm.

  “I think breakfast is over. We may have to have brunch,” he tells me with a wolfish smirk that sets my body alight once more, and I’m ready for round two.

  Giggling, I shake my head. “As long as you don’t make it, I think we’ll be fine,” I tease, earning me a tickling in the ribs, which makes me squeal with laughter.

  “I have to admit, I love seeing you smile.”

  His words still me. And when I look into his eyes, I see it, the satisfaction that this may have been one of the best sex sessions of my life. There’s still something that could tear us apart. I don’t know what it could be, maybe his past, perhaps the pain of losing everything in your life. I don’t know, but I don’t want to focus on that right now.

  Julian slips from me and disappears from the room into the attached bathroom. I lie there for a moment, enjoying the scent of his spicy cologne, now all over my skin, and I can’t stop smiling. I feel giddy.

  When Julian returns, he’s holding a cloth he uses to wipe between my legs. It’s a strange act, not in a bad way, but I’ve never had a man so attentive to do that. Normally, I would race into the bathroom after him.

  “Are you okay?” The concern in his eyes shines through as he regards me lying on his bed, naked.

  “I am. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever been better.” I push onto my elbows and slowly sit up. When I rise, I look up at him and smile because I can’t find words to tell him what this meant. I know this may not end in a happily ever after, but for now, it’s been magical.

  “Good,” he says, pressing his lips to mine once more before he turns and heads back into the bathroom. I find my T-shirt and pull it on before padding out of the room to the one I slept in, to find the sweatpants that he gave me to wear.

  Once I’m dressed, I hobble into the kitchen to find coffee waiting for me, served by one of the hottest men I’ve ever met.

  “I figured since I ruined your morning coffee, you needed one.”

  I tip my head to the side to regard him. “I’d hardly call that ruining. That was . . . well, that was something else entirely.”

  “I meant what I said,” Julian says suddenly, his expression turning serious. “I don’t know if this will work. I’ve been . . . It’s been a long time.”

  “We’re both grownups, both old enough to do this without feeling guilty. It was fun,” I respond, trying to sound lighthearted, but the disappointment gnaws my gut as I fake my smile. “And if you feel that badly about it—”

  “No, Nea. That’s not what I meant. I just, I can’t get into a relationship. I’m . . . There’s a lot I’m still working through. My ex-wife—” He stops, shaking his head. “I want you, that’s fucking clear to me, but I can’t, and I won’t hurt you. There’s no way I can put you through that.”

  “I didn’t ask for your permission, Julian. I’m an adult, and if I couldn’t handle some fun, I would’ve walked out.” I can see the war raging inside him. His eyes hold ghosts of the past, and all I want to do is exorcise them.

  But it’s not up to me. The ball is in his court.

  Chapter 18

  Julian

  I thought I’d be different with her after what we did. But as the days pass, we’ve fallen into a comfortable routine. Nea arrives early, and we spend time having our morning coffees before we head into the office to finalize preparations for the next event, and then she stays for dinner. After that, I lose myself in her. It’s the only place I feel like myself. I feel normal.

  But being this happy comes at a price. Especially for an Elliot.

  “Good morning.” Nea’s soft singsong voice comes from the doorway as she glides into the kitchen. Dressed in a black skirt that hugs her hips and thighs along with a tank top that seems to be painted over her tits, I can’t help myself from running dirty scenarios in my mind.

  “You seem chipper this morning,” I remark, handing her a large mug filled with steaming java.

  Nea offers me a smile. “I spoke to my friend Phee. She’s final
ly coming home. She decided to leave Rome a week early, so she’ll be coming to New Orleans to visit.”

  “That’s good news. I know you missed her.” I watch her settle on the stool. She swings her legs back and forth excitedly. Nea is the complete opposite of me. She’s happy; she doesn’t allow life to get to her, and I wonder if it has something to do with her past, with her mother.

  “So, what’s on the schedule for today?”

  “We have a new artist coming in to deliver the pieces for our next show,” I tell her. I know she’ll like this guy because he is an abstract artist like myself. “He has about forty pieces we need to find space for.”

  “I can do that,” she tells me, excitement dancing in her eyes. “I think having more art and fewer people inside at a time may be an idea. I wonder if we can get them into groups. Perhaps four people at a time.”

  “We can. Since the weather is holding out, we can have the drinks and snacks set up outside. People can mingle on the lawn while those who would like to view the art can enter.”

  “Are we going to have him curate, or will you?”

  “I’d actually like you to do it.” I shrug. “Unless you feel like you aren’t up to the challenge?” My suggestion has her eyes widening. It’s the first time I’m stepping back and allowing someone else to do this. Normally, I focus on every aspect of the actual show, but I trust Nea, and her taste in art is second to none. We’ve spent some time talking about her love of the mediums, of various artists, and what she looks for in pieces. And that’s why I know she’ll knock this out of the park.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Of course,” I tell her. “I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I wasn’t. Also . . .” I allow my words to drift between us, but Nea’s too clever because she narrows her gaze on me.

  “Also?”

  “I want to take you out tonight.” This has her expression morphing from cautious to excited. “Dinner, perhaps a walk around the French Quarter,” I suggest, knowing she’ll want to see it at night. There’s something magical about New Orleans, there always has been. And even though I’ve lived here all my life, I never truly took the city in. And from her point of view, I’m sure it would be far more exciting than what I would experience.

  “I would love that,” she tells me. “I haven’t had a chance to do that. Perhaps we can even do one of those ghost tours.” I knew that was coming. Nea strikes me as the type to go off on adventures, whereas I’m the one who’d rather spend money on a fancy dinner or head to a bar of some sort.

  “If that’s what you’d like to do, we will do it.”

  “I didn’t think you were a dating kind of guy,” Nea says, setting her empty mug down as she grabs her laptop bag.

  “Not usually, but I have to be honest. I enjoy spending time with you, and if that means a date is in order, then it has to happen.” I can’t stop my chest tightening when I see her smile. It does something to me. It burrows itself into my soul, and I wonder if I can do this. If I can truly be with someone and not hurt them.

  “Well, I look forward to it, Mr. Elliot,” Nea says with a wink. “I better get to work, or my boss will have my ass if I’m not at my desk.”

  “Perhaps your boss will have your ass over your desk,” I counter, a wolfish grin curling my lips as her cheeks turn bright red.

  “Behave. Work first.” Nea disappears down the hallway. My phone buzzes, and I pick it up to find Eli’s name.

  “Hey, man,” I answer, a smile still dancing on my lips.

  “Now, that’s definitely new.”

  Leaning against the kitchen counter, I ask, “What is?”

  “You’re smiling the moment you answer the phone. I may not see it, but I definitely hear it,” Eli says. “Does this have anything to do with the pretty new assistant you have?”

  “Sometimes, I wonder how we’re still friends after this long. I mean, you can be a pain in my ass, Eli.” He chuckles at my response, but he knows my mood has everything to do with the beauty currently working in the office.

  “It’s my unwavering charm and wit that has you coming back for more,” he retorts, and we both burst out laughing. That’s one thing about Eli — he has an answer for everything.

  “I’m thinking of taking her to dinner tonight. And maybe a walk through the Quarter afterward.”

  “Are you serious?” I can tell he’s shocked at this outcome. And to be honest, I wasn’t expecting to want to spend time with her. Yes, we’ve been intimate, but dating is a whole other kettle of fish I haven’t done in a while.

  “I am.”

  “Well, that’s definitely a turn for the better. It’s been too long, Julian.” He’s right, and I know it. “Perhaps you can bring her around to ours for dinner or lunch?”

  I don’t know if I’m on that level just yet. Having her meet my friends in a personal setting can make this seem more serious than it is.

  “I can already hear you trying to find excuses not to.” Eli can read me like a fucking book. “Tell me something, Julian, does she make you happy?”

  “Yes, I’ve . . . I’ve felt lighter than I have in a very long time. When Shay left, I didn’t think I’d want this again.”

  “And you do now?”

  Do I? With Nea, yes. I do.

  “I think so,” I finally answer Eli because I know he won’t stop asking until I’ve admitted my feelings. And that’s definitely not something I’ll do.

  “Then take a chance. Bring her around for dinner, and Kate and I can make sure she’s legit.” This time, he chuckles over the line at him, attempting to be an adult when it comes to making fun of me.

  “You’re a dick.”

  “I know. This is why we’re friends. Takes one to know one.”

  “I’ll bring her around, just not tonight,” I tell him, then an idea comes to mind. “Are you busy this weekend?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll check with Kate when I get home, but probably not.”

  “Perhaps we can set up a date for this Saturday night then,” I ponder. “I would like you to meet her outside of the gallery.”

  “Good, I’ll let Kate know.”

  “Was there an actual reason you called me besides wanting to be a pussy and talk about our feelings?” I taunt him.

  “Actually, I was going to ask you about her because Kate and I were chatting last night about the show. It was great. I think you should really look at getting your work online.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know if I’m ready to dive headfirst into fame right now.” Even the thought of it has me panicked. Even though I’m sure I can handle it, the memories of my father are still fresh in my mind.

  “Think about it. This could be your break from being at that gallery all day every day. Maybe you’ll be able to take a proper vacation,” he suggests, but there’s a hint of amusement in his tone.

  “Did you want to say something? Because I’ve never known Eli Boudreaux to keep his mouth shut when he had something to say.”

  “I mean . . . You could always take Nea somewhere nice. I’m sure she’d love to go to Hawaii or Belize, some tropical beach where you can finally admit you’re in love again.” The guffaw that greets me after he speaks is the one reason I hang up, but I can’t stop my laugh as well. However, I won’t give Eli the benefit of hearing that I actually laughed at him making fun of me.

  A text comes through not long after from Eli.

  You can’t deny that I’m right, as always.

  I can’t deny it, but I won’t tell him.

  Chapter 19

  Nea

  The restaurant isn’t busy with only a few tables filled, including ours. We have the privacy that allows us to finally talk. I want to know more about Julian and, for some reason, I could never ask the questions I’d like to ask while we’re at the house. It seems too personal to bring up his father or the fact that I found out he had a wife.

  I need to know more about the man, and I take a deep breath before I finally ask, “So, will you ever be able to
talk about your past with me?” It’s a leap because I know how much Julian enjoys his privacy.

  He seems pensive at first but, slowly, he settles back in his chair and regards me while he toys with his glass of beer. We’d both enjoyed a drink, dinner, and now that we’re almost ready to pay the bill, I wanted to ask before time ran out.

  “My father enjoyed the fame more than I ever did,” he starts, shocking me because I was almost certain he was going to take me home and tell me never to return. “But when I was twenty-one, all things came to a head with his agent and the press. They had found pictures of him drunk, in various clubs with girls, models no less. He didn’t care what they said until the article came out talking about his drug use and the fact that his art was no longer of the quality they had come to admire.”

  The pain in Julian’s words is evident, drenching the air between us in sadness. I wanted to go to him, to hold him and tell him he’s nothing like that, but I couldn’t know that. Perhaps if fame got to be too much, Julian could turn to alcohol the same way his father had.

  “That’s why I am so afraid of finally putting my work out there. My best friend, Eli, keeps telling me to do it, to show more and more people what I can do. But with that talent I got from my father comes the other, darker side to it.”

  “But would you go out partying and doing drugs with girls half your age if you were to finally become a household name in art?” I don’t know why I can’t believe that Julian is that type of man. He’s serious, grumpy at the best of times, but I don’t see him losing control like that. However, with fame comes a lot of pressure. “Is that why in the past you have never allowed people to see you? Even when you do your reviews?”

  “Yes. For years I hid away, I had specific rules about any press coming to the shows. No photos, and I never featured in any articles,” he says, nodding before he takes a sip of his beer. When he sets the glass down, he looks at the liquid as if it were poison. “I love painting, and I enjoy the looks on people’s faces when they try to assume what a particular canvas means, but other than that, I don’t want anything to do with it. Not the art world. My father’s friends were always there, egging him on to do more and more shit.”

 

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