Valentine's Fantasy: When Valentines CollideTo Love Again

by Adrianne Byrd

  Matthew watched in a dreamlike trance as his wife’s beautiful silhouetted figure glided toward him. He almost wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, but he decided against it in fear that he would wake up.

  “Would it please my love if I took off my gown now?”

  Hell yes! He nearly laughed aloud at his eagerness. “It would please me very much.”

  Like the great tease she was, Chanté’s hand drifted to the small zipper in the center of the gown and then slid it down one inch at a time.

  Matthew couldn’t decide whether this was pleasure or torture. Every impulse in his body demanded that he jump up and rip the damn thing off of her. As much as he loved everything he did for her the previous night, it had been pure agony not to satisfy his own carnal desires—and there was no way he could do it two nights in a row.

  At long last the zipper reached the end of its track and Chanté parted the sheer gown to proudly display her womanly curves to his greedy gaze. Mine. She’s all mine.

  “Do you like what you see, my love?”

  “No.” Matthew licked his dry lips. “I love what I see.”

  Chanté’s lips bloomed wide as she allowed the gown to glide off her body. “May I join you on your pillow?”

  “You most certainly may.”

  She stepped forward and placed each of her long cinnamon-brown legs on opposite sides of his hips, pausing just long enough for him to run his hands against them and enjoy their smoothness. She then lowered her naked body onto his lap and assumed the Yab Yum position.

  “Comfortable?” Matthew asked, mainly because if he didn’t have on his boxers, they would have been joined together.

  “Yes,” she answered, her minty breath blowing softly against his face. “Would my love like some fresh fruit to whet his appetite?”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  Chanté reached out to her side and selected a plump strawberry and carefully dipped it into a bowl of chocolate before she brought it to her husband’s lips.

  As he bit into the juicy fruit, their eyes locked together to do a bit of soul gazing. It was no surprise to Matthew to see so many different layers to his wife. The most dominant trait was her fierce independence, but just below that were layers of uncertainty and even a tinge of vulnerability.

  “How is it?” she asked.

  An instant smile slid into place. “You know how I feel about chocolate. Both it and the strawberry remind me of you.”

  Chanté’s cheeks darkened even beneath the low candlelight. “Does that mean that you’d like another bite?”

  “Yes, to both.” He took the rest of the strawberry into his mouth while their gazes remained locked. He allowed her to continue hand-feeding him an assortment of fruit and even a few oysters before she offered him a bath.

  The routine was similar to the night before with the exception of him trusting her to give him an old-fashioned shave.

  “Don’t worry, I used to do this all the time with my father,” she assured.

  Still, he would have preferred something made in the twenty-first century, but this night was also about developing and deepening their bond of trust. So in the end, he sat still with his head tilted back while his wife shaved him.

  “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  Matthew rubbed his hand against his face and was more than a little impressed. “Wow. I should have had you doing this all along.” He waited until she put the blade down, and then pulled her into the tub.

  Chanté yelped and caused a huge wave of soapy water to splash over the tub’s rim and flood the floor. “What are you doing?” she giggled and floundered around until she lay flat against his chest and smiled into his handsome face. “You know, all you had to do was ask me to climb in.”

  “What—and miss that surprised look on your face?” He blew a cluster of bubbles off the tip of her nose and then leaned in close for a kiss. “I love you.”

  Her eyes suddenly glossed with tears and she responded in a shaky whisper. “I love you, too.”

  Matthew looped his arm around her small waist and drew her back down for another kiss. He took his time exploring and savoring her hot mouth. Despite the tub’s cooling water, he grew hard against her body.

  Chanté moaned as she stretched her hand down in between their bodies and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. With light, feathery strokes, she moved just her fingers up and down and around the tip.

  Matthew, lost in a rapture of soft, silky flesh, continued to arch his erection against the loving strokes of her hands. Meanwhile, he roamed his hands lazily down the blades of her shoulder, then kneaded the skin along the planes of her back, and then finally cupped her firm, yet curvy butt, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  She sighed and opened her mouth wider and allowed him to deepen the kiss. His tongue skated over her slick teeth, danced with her tongue, and savored her unique flavor. Nothing on earth tasted this sweet.

  He worked his hands in a circular motion—caressing, squeezing and parting her cheeks. In seconds, he set a slow, hypnotic rhythm that Chanté began, rotating her hips to join the fun.

  A long groan rumbled in Matthew’s chest as his wife’s fingers accelerated their strokes and increased his need to be inside of her, but first, he had to make sure she was ready to receive him. Releasing one of her butt cheeks, he glided his soapy hand farther down and then dipped it between the tuft of curly hair between her thighs.

  His wife moved as her body quivered against the intimate invasion. Delighted that the slick passageway was just as warm and inviting as her mouth, Matthew navigated another finger inside and began a languid pump.

  Chanté stopped rotating her hips and instead rocked against his plunging hand. Almost immediately, her breath became erratic and the soft lapping of the tub’s water became just as melodic as the jazz music playing throughout the lodge.

  “I need you, baby,” Matthew rasped. “I need you right now.”

  “Yes, love.” She moved to climb out of the tub. “Let me get—”

  “No. I don’t want to get out of the tub.” He took his erection out of her hands and held it up straight up so that the tip poked out of the water. “Slide it in for me, baby.”

  Chanté’s lustful gaze met his own while a mischievous smile curled her lips. “As you wish.” She reclaimed possession of his hard shaft and inched her body upward and slid her knees to opposite sides of his hips. The porcelain tub made for a tight fit, but she managed the task set before her.

  As she eased down his long, throbbing shaft, they moaned together in mutual satisfaction.

  Matthew lolled his head back against the tub as he reveled in the unbelievable sensations of her sweet, tight body.

  His deep, guttural moans echoed and bounced off the bathroom’s tiles as Chanté continued to rise and fall against his powerful thrusts while squeezing her internal muscles. Heavy-lidded, he watched her lustfully through the mesh of his lowered eyelashes and felt his mouth water for the taste of her bountiful breasts bouncing above him.

  Pulling up into a sitting position, he pressed her wet body closer, and then drew a pearled nipple into his mouth.

  Gasping, she quivered again, but didn’t stop rocking her body. As he suckled and polished the black pearl, his wife’s hand clawed at his wet back, running her nails over his shoulders and driving him crazy.

  With a rarely displayed strength, Matthew planted his feet firmly at the bottom of the bathtub, wrapped an arm around her waist, and propelled their bodies upward with one mighty push from the tub’s rim.

  Water splashed and ran down from their soapy bodies. Matthew remained careful as he carried his wife out and sloshed through the bathroom. They fell onto the bed not giving a damn about ruining the silk sheets. The only thing that mattered was finishing what they started.

  He reentered her body with a long, easy thrust. Her body’s warm honey was so unbelievably slick he clamped his teeth together as if it would help him maintain some type of control
. Slowly, he moved within her, trying his best to practice restraint but that was shot to hell when Chanté matched his rhythm, thrust for thrust, and then urged him to a faster tempo with her hips.

  He was more than accommodating.

  Soon, they were rocking at an exhilarating pace and Chanté’s cries of pleasure drowned out his own. When she reached the brink of her climax, she tried to inch higher along the bed, but Matthew’s hips dogged her trail and he could feel her body explode and tremble around him.

  One of her body’s tremors detonated his gargantuan climax as he tensed and drove deep, burying his head against her neck and releasing a throaty growl.

  Holding him with both her arms and legs, Chanté rocked with him until he quieted and his shaft stopped pulsing. At this moment their bodies and their hearts beat as one. This was how they were meant to be—none of the craziness that had filled their lives in the past few months.

  Matthew finally rolled onto his side, but remained welded inside of her. After their hearts returned to a normal pace, he brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. “Whatcha thinking about?”

  “You. Us.” She fluttered a shy smile. “The last two nights.”

  His arms tightened around her as he drew in a deep breath. “What about us?”

  “I was just thinking about how nice it is to fall in love again.”

  Matthew met her steady gaze unblinkingly. “Yes, it is.”

  Chapter 16

  Matthew and Chanté made love throughout the night. Each time, the pleasure intensified and strengthened the newly formed bond between them. By the time morning spilled sunlight through the windows, they were no more than two heaps of flesh piled onto each other.

  “What time do we have class?” Chanté asked, lacking the strength to even lift her head.

  “Who cares?” he groaned. “I may never leave this bed for as long as I live.”

  She chuckled and then yawned lazily. When she realized that she was still lying on top of him, she asked, “Am I too heavy?”

  “Don’t even think about moving,” he warned and yawned himself. “As soon as I get my energy back, I’m going to make love to you again.” Another yawn. “Any minute now.”

  “No worries, baby. I’m staying right here.” She planted a kiss against his chest and drifted off to sleep again.

  The next time she opened her eyes, the daylight had softened and there was the unmistakable sound of rain drumming against the windows. Still straddling her husband’s hips, she sat up and glanced groggily about the room.

  Matthew groaned as his eyes fluttered open. However, a smile quickly slid into place at the sight of his wife’s breasts. “Now this is how a man should be greeted in the morning.” He reached up and ran his hands over the soft mounds and loved the way her nipples hardened at his slightest touch.

  Before he could get the party started, they jumped from the phone’s sudden ring.

  Matthew frowned. “Who in the hell would be calling us?”

  “I’ll give you one guess,” Chanté said, reaching over and snatching the headpiece off the receiver. “Good morning, Edie.”

  “Morning? Try afternoon,” Edie corrected. “Wait. How did you know it was me?”

  “Simple deduction, my dear Watson,” she said, laughing and dismounting her husband.

  “Wait. Don’t go.” He reached for her, but she bounced off the bed, leaving him to grasp nothing but air.

  “Was that Matthew?” Edie pried.

  “No. Denzel Washington,” Chanté shot back. “Who else would it be?”

  “Then I take it that last night was another success?”

  Chanté watched her husband as he stretched lazily among the sheets. “You can say that,” she said, as another wave of desire spiraled through her.

  “Good,” Edie said triumphantly. “I told Seth you were okay, but he thought that I should double-check to make sure that neither of you reverted to your old ways and tried to kill each other.”

  “Well, he can relax. We’re both alive and breathing.”

  “Just barely,” Matthew shouted. “She wore me out!”

  Edie “whooped” loud enough for Matthew to hear and the three of them laughed good-naturedly. “All right. Are we going to see you guys for dinner?”

  “Dinner?” Chanté glanced around. “What time is it?”

  “Two o’clock,” Edie sang merrily. “But don’t fret. I was told a lot of people missed the morning classes.”

  “Told?”

  “What—you think you’re the only ones who can work it all night long? I am the original Energizer Bunny, baby.”

  Chanté rolled her eyes and quickly disconnected the call.

  “Well, what did our self-appointed babysitters want?” Matthew asked, sitting up. “Or should I even bother to ask?”

  “Nothing too serious. She was just spying on us and reserving us for dinner.” She waltzed over to him on the edge of the bed and popped a squat on his lap. “But I’m starving now.” She leaned forward and nibbled on his ear.

  Matthew opened his mouth but he was unable to respond with her warm tongue getting him all excited again.

  Chanté chuckled at seeing her husband rendered helpless and decided to cut it out—especially if she wanted to eat anytime soon. “You call room service while I go freshen up,” she instructed with a departing kiss.

  “Ah, we’re not going to eat in the nude?”

  “We can.” She shrugged as she headed toward the bathroom. “But don’t you think we should go to at least one class today?”

  “The point is for us to have sex. I think we have the gist of it now,” he joked. “We just needed a refresher course.”

  Laughing as she entered the bathroom, she gave him one final reminder to call room service, then closed the door.

  Surprised to see just how much water they had splashed on the floor, Chanté retrieved a few towels from the rack and made floor mats out of them before she went about washing her face and brushing her teeth. When she reached inside of her cache case for her morning pills, she stopped.

  “What are you doing?” she asked her reflection. She waited as if her mirror image would actually give an answer. If this was to be a new beginning then she needed to start with being honest—and doing the right thing.

  Chanté left the pills in her bag, and then turned to the tub to let out the previous night’s water and to take a quick shower. When she finally emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in one of the resort’s robes, their late lunch was just being delivered to the room.

  Matthew, who’d put on a pair of white boxers to answer the door, glanced up. “Hey, honey, we had a note on the door from Dr. Gardner. She wants to schedule a one-on-one consultation. Do you feel up to it?”

  “Psychologists seeing psychologists. Maybe Tom Cruise was right and we’re all just crazy.”

  “Or we all just need someone else to talk to.”

  Chanté lowered her gaze as she slid her hands into the pockets of her robe. “We should be able to talk to each other.”

  “True,” he said thoughtfully. “But when you’re dealing with a proud man who finds it difficult to apologize, then talking to him may not be the easiest thing in the world to do.”

  “Or when you’re dealing with a woman who thinks it’s easier to leave than deal with a problem.” Sadly, she shook her head as she moved over to the sofa. “It’s funny. I give millions of listeners and readers advice, but when it comes to me...?”

  “Neither of us has claimed to be perfect. It’s hard for teachers to be students and for doctors to be patients. We’re learning and growing from our mistakes just like everyone else. Sure we have issues. You like to poison people and I like to cut things up. We’re perfect for each other.”

  Chanté laughed and loved him for brightening her mood. “Hey, did you know that psychologists had the highest rate of suicide?”

  “Huh, I thought it was dentists.”

  * * *

  Chanté and Matthew emerged from their da
ylong hibernation to rejoin their group for a class in tantric dance. At first, Chanté thought she would never be able to master the belly rolls and simultaneous hand gestures, but soon, she found the sensual snakelike movements fun and exhilarating.

  Plus, Matthew was completely turned on by her efforts.

  After class and a pleasant dinner, Edie asked Chanté to join her for a trip to the ladies’ room.

  “I take it that you want to talk to me about something,” Chanté said, checking her appearance in the mirror.

  Edie nodded and turned toward her friend with her arms crossed. “Have you told him yet?”

  Chanté’s genial smile melted from her face. “Told him what?”

  “Come on. This is me you’re talking to.”

  Turning away from the mirror, Chanté met Edie’s laserlike gaze dead-on. “Not yet.”

  Edie rolled her eyes with a loud sigh. “Mind if I ask what you’re waiting for?”

  “I don’t know.” Chanté’s shoulders slumped as she exhaled. “Something called the right moment?”

  “He talked nonstop throughout dinner about it.”

  “I know. I know.” She shook her head. “It’s just that it’s so important to him and after so many...I can’t...” She stopped herself and closed her eyes. “He may not forgive me.”

  “Aww.” Edie moved in close and wrapped her arm around her friend’s shoulder. “Of course he’ll forgive you. He’s in the forgiving business.”

  Chanté had her doubts but didn’t voice them. Instead, she lifted her head and wiped a few errant tears from her eyes. “Maybe you’re right. Tomorrow we scheduled a one-on-one therapy session with Dr. Gardner. It’s as good a time as any to talk about it. Who knows—maybe there’s something to this therapist needing therapy thing.”

  “That’s my girl.” Edie squeezed her shoulders. “Let’s take those men back to our rooms and work up a black sweat, separately, of course.”

  Laughing, Chanté quickly fixed her makeup and waltzed arm in arm back out to the resort’s grand dining room. However, through the rest of their meal, Chanté’s reservations and doubts began to pile on top of one another. Soon, she found it difficult to keep her smile angled at the appropriate levels while the beginnings of a migraine throbbed at her temples.