Every Chance I Get

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Every Chance I Get Page 9

by Altonya Washington


  “It’s lovely,” she breathed, feeling his eyes on her seconds before she turned and actually saw him watching while he followed her deeper into his home.

  She turned off into the den and Talib grimaced, hoping she’d continue on down the long curving corridor that ended at his bedroom.

  In the den, Misha took note of the pictures lining the walls, mantel, shelving and tables. She tried to maintain her cool by focusing on the pictures featuring people she didn’t recognize.

  “Your family?” Her voice was light and she glanced up in time to catch his nod.

  She noticed the same two men in many of the photos and paused to more closely study one of them.

  “My uncles,” he said, well aware what picture resided in the frame she held.

  “You must be very close.” Carefully, she replaced the frame on the mantel.

  “They raised me.”

  “Oh.” Misha was observing other photos along the pine mantelpiece. “With your mother?”

  “My mother was dead.”

  She whirled around to question him, but cried out instead when she realized he’d come up quickly and silently behind her.

  Questions then were out of the question. Talib was kissing her with a force that had as much to do with arousal as it did with frustration and the need to silence demons that were not quite ready to be shared. Misha could practically feel the emotions surging through him like live beings.

  He lifted her next to him and she gasped. “I can’t stay.”

  “We’ll see about that.” His mouth was smoothing a path beneath her jaw. Infrequently, his teeth grazed her silken skin, lightly scented with her heavenly fragrance.

  Misha whimpered, kicking off her peekaboo pumps and draping her legs around his back. Hungry for him, she wasted no time working to remove his shirt. Talib’s intentions ran along the same track. By the time they reached his bedroom, both he and Misha were half out of their clothing.

  The room was dark and Misha felt herself being lowered, then covered, by his heavy frame. She wouldn’t let him claim total control this time and pushed him to his back. She’d see him totally nude before she was.

  “Misha…” Talib allowed himself to be handled and massaged the heels of his hands into his eyes while savoring the feel of her mouth gliding across his neck and shoulders. Her nails grazed his chest and abdomen with an underlying yet noticeable air of possession.

  Her tongue tickled his navel while she undid his trouser fastening. Talib’s moan held a wavering quality then and he wasn’t in the least bit shamed by it. She had him undressed and her mouth trailed steadily downward until her lips favored the length of his sex. Her tongue darted out to add another level of heat to the caress. She settled her hands to his powerful thighs when they bucked in involuntary thrusts as she pleasured him. She dropped kisses across the tops of his legs and smiled at the sight of him writhing in unsatisfied need.

  At last, she granted his wish and rose up to cover him. Misha’s intent was to kiss him but the instant she lay across him he sat up. His arms were around her waist, holding her close. He massaged her back even as he drew her closer to suckle her ever-firming nipples.

  Misha was so lost in the sensation of it all, she whimpered and enacted the same bucking movements with her hips that he had earlier.

  Talib was fumbling for a condom, but halted the search when he surrendered to the craving for her nipple against his tongue. The sleek lines of his brows drew close as he licked and suckled madly before his nose outlined the circumference of a firm breast and he suckled it all over again.

  “Talib…” Misha’s voice was more air than tone.

  Talib was again in search of a condom. Once located and unwrapped, he eased it in place with Misha twisting and bouncing against him in desire and anticipation.

  Her forehead nudged his when he settled her down to sheath his erection. Misha’s tiny whimpering gained volume, but soon enough the room filled with both of their satisfied cries. She lost her fingers in his gorgeous hair and winced as every bounce upon his length nestled him deeper inside.

  Talib resumed his ravenous feasting on her breasts. He cupped one, manipulating the nipple between thumb and forefinger while his lips and tongue tended to the other.

  “Talib…coming…mmm…. soon…” she warned.

  He pushed her to her back and took her with more determination. Her shrieks of pleasure though, made him pause.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  “Never.”

  His head fell to her shoulder and he smiled. He knew she was in the throes of desire and that her response to his inquiry wasn’t in the literal sense. Still…he could pretend. He could pretend that she truly believed he’d never hurt her. That he’d never hurt her again.

  Talib was up and fully dressed before Misha even awoke the next morning. He ordered breakfast, but didn’t dare wake her for it. He enjoyed his food while watching her rest. The sight of her in his bed admittedly fed his ego while it nourished his heart. He’d do whatever it took not to lose this, lose her. Once again, she’d become his lifeline. He wondered if she’d ever really been anything less.

  He felt his phone vibrating against the table and smirked when he saw the name on the screen.

  “Claudette, good morning.”

  “Everything’s set for your meeting with Ducker.”

  Talib poured himself more juice. “And he knows I’m not coming to his hotel?”

  “He knows.” Claudette chuckled. “It was heavenly letting him know you were out here to see him. I think the little prince was a tad bit intimidated.”

  “Humph, we’ll see.” Talib swallowed the juice in a gulp.

  Claudette’s chuckling resumed. “Understood. I’ve got the straight jacket and muzzle beneath my desk, just in case.”

  “That a girl,” Talib commended.

  “Oh, and don’t let this drama with Duck cause you to forget the event for the Arizona Orchestra.”

  “What about it?” Talib tilted his head, hoping to capture a glimpse of something when Misha turned onto her back.

  “The charity concert? It’s this week and since Asher’s back East…”

  Talib suddenly lost his taste for the rest of breakfast. “The fun is all mine,” he grudgingly acknowledged.

  “Sorry, mate,” Claudette teased.

  He smirked. “Watch it.”

  “Seriously, Talib, you’re going to have to get past this aversion to parties. ‘It’s an integral part to an agent’s success,’ as Asher likes to say.”

  “Asher also likes parties more than I do.”

  “Honey, a hermit crab likes parties more than you do. Just show your handsome face for a second or three, all right?”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” He pushed away the table cart and stood. “Talk to you soon.”

  Misha was stirring and opened her eyes to find Talib stooping near the bed. “Nice suit.” She smoothed a hand across the fabric of the sandstone three-piece. “Should I get dressed?”

  Talib held a card key between his index and middle fingers. “I’d prefer you stay just like that until I get back, but if you’re hell-bent—” he wiggled the key “—there’s a suite waiting for you right here in the building.”

  She smiled. “Another amenity?”

  “Of course.” His tone was lighthearted enough but his expression was all seriousness. He studied her sleep-softened face and tousled hair. “I’ll be back by three. Will you be all right until then?” He nodded once she did.

  “There’s breakfast.” He glanced toward the cart. “I ordered a while ago so…you may want something different and…”

  Misha wondered if he knew he was rambling. Probably not, for he appeared more interested in stroking her hair than in the words coming out of his mouth.

  “So I’ll see you at three?” she said once his words trailed into silence.

  He gave her a sheepish smile, kissed her nose and was gone.

  Chapter 12

  “So how�
�s the baby business?” Misha was asking later that day when the receptionist connected her call through to Dr. Lettia Breene.

  “Girl! How are things?” The obstetrician laughed. “We’re gonna have to get together for lunch or something—maybe get Riley to come along so we can all catch up.”

  “That sounds good….” Misha ran her finger along the mouth of the coffee mug she stroked. “Might be a little difficult to get together from Phoenix, though.”

  “Phoenix? A story?”

  “Talib.”

  “Ah…so, um, when do you think you’ll be back?”

  “I went along when he asked because I was curious, Lett.”

  Lettia was silent.

  Misha pushed aside the coffee she’d been enjoying from the living room of the suite Talib had secured for her. “He’s so set on taking the blame for what happened six years ago.”

  “Well, that’s nothing new,” Lettia said. “He felt that way from the night of your accident.”

  “And I’ve got a strong feeling that need to take the blame goes straight to his background. Or at least it plays a role in it.”

  “A person’s background can haunt them for years.” Lettia voiced the point in a softer tone. “Will you be as honest with Talib as he’s been with you?”

  Misha straightened on the sofa, at first confused.

  “Things got pretty bad for you after the accident.”

  The confusion cleared. “Are you crazy?” Laughter flavored Misha’s words but they lacked humor. “There’s no way I could tell him that. Maybe before. Maybe, but not now.”

  “Honey, isn’t it time for honesty? Full disclosure, if you will—on both sides.”

  “Talib has this need to take the blame for everything, Lett. How do I tell him all about that and not have him add it to the list of things he thinks he’s responsible for?”

  “I think he could be coming clean because he wants a life with you. You need to ask yourself if that’s what you want, and if so, how will you explain your sessions with Dr. Zeitz?”

  Misha cursed.

  “Talib’s too smart to believe you’re just seeing a therapist because of an accident.”

  “He knows my mind was a mess after all that happened between us that day,” Misha argued, picking at a thread on the cuff of her jeans. “Lots of people see therapists for things like that. I won’t ever need to talk about this with anyone except you and Dr. Z.”

  “How long will you guys be out there?”

  “I’m not sure,” Misha sighed, leaving the sofa to take in the view from the tall windows lining the room. “Talib seems pretty content—he got me settled in a room to die for.”

  “You think you’ll have the full story by the end of your trip?”

  “I hope so. He gets so clammy when he starts talking about it.” Misha puffed out her cheeks and sat on the back of an armchair. “Especially when he starts talking about his mother.”

  “Mother?” Intrigue laced Lettia’s voice.

  “Things were pretty hard for them…before she died.”

  “Which explains him clamming up.”

  “I don’t know, Lett.” Misha was back before the windows again. “I can’t figure what it is, only that I think it’s something he believes is his fault.”

  Lettia sighed. “Sounds like it’s getting complicated, Meesh.”

  “More so every day.”

  “Can you handle that?”

  “I love him. I never stopped. I don’t have a choice but to see it through.”

  Following her phone call with Lettia, Misha enjoyed what remained of her day. She didn’t leave the suite at all and couldn’t recall when she’d last enjoyed such alone time. The place was stocked with everything she could want or need. She commended Talib’s thoughtfulness, certain he’d arranged every detail. Lately he seemed to have his finger on the pulse of all her needs—literally.

  Thankfully, her needs now were only a touch or a cup of her favorite tea away. She remembered when her cravings were much harder to satisfy, much more dangerous.

  Closing her eyes then, she sank deeper into the bubble-filled tub. Surely a nice hot bath would soothe those troubled memories.

  It was difficult to follow the order to relax at first. Soon though, the bath foam’s wonderful fragrance worked its magic. Far too soon, almost an hour had passed and Misha had no intentions of leaving. Feeling truly decadent, she inched deeper into the tub and prepared for a second hour. She was lifting her legs in and out of the water, watching the suds stream down one limb and then the other. A low wolf whistle stopped her mid-lift a moment or so later. Water sloshed when she saw Talib in the doorway.

  “Does everyone have a key to these private suites?” She worked to catch her breath while eyeing him warily.

  Talib shrugged, one hand hidden in the pocket of his trousers while the other fingered the key. “I’m the only one,” he promised.

  Misha swallowed, the sound of his accented tone seeming to vibrate amidst the bathroom. “Don’t suppose there’s anything I could do to get it back?”

  Talib smirked, easing the key into his coat pocket while advancing beyond the door. “There’re several things you might do to get it back.”

  “I’ll bet.” She laughed faintly when he kneeled near the tub. Absently, he began trailing the back of his hand along her shoulder.

  “Need help?” He offered as his touch journeyed toward the swell of her breasts barely covered by the rapidly fading bubbles.

  “I can handle it.” She shook her head.

  Talib made a tsking sound and his ebony gaze narrowed sharply. “I fear you’ve been handling too much on your own.”

  Misha was quiet, only watching as he unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled the sleeves above muscular forearms. She blinked when the clatter of his wristwatch against the counter drew her back to reality. “I, um…I don’t have much choice in that, do I?”

  “Mmm…there’s always a choice.” His unbuttoned vest followed the watch to the counter. “Especially when there’s someone eager to offer assistance.”

  Her lashes batted madly when his fingers drifted around the curve of her breast, down her breasts, lower… She bit her lip when an unexpected cry lilted from her throat. Her legs were parting on their own accord in response to his infrequent grazes against her thighs.

  “There just some things a girl has to handle on her own,” she said.

  “Some things.” His eyes were focused on the water. “Not everything.” His thumb applied a sinful massage to her sex.

  Misha almost slid beneath the water. Instead, she pressed her lips together and closed her hands over the tub’s beige porcelain edge. Giving in, she took the probing caress allowing her legs to part in silent invitation for more. In moments, Talib’s hands had her calling out for him not to stop. She was cursing herself in moments, when he did, in fact, stop. His hand rose up and out of the water, fingers trailing her jaw before he left her alone in the bathroom.

  Misha was moving to pull the water plug when Talib returned. She was too weakened by the sight of him to do anything other than take in the sight of his body, thoroughly nude and fully erect. Her mouth went dry. He mentioned something about her needing more water and hit the knob.

  “Talib—”

  “Shall I leave?”

  “Please, no.” She averted her gaze yet smiled when he tossed down a condom.

  Setting aside the package, Misha rose to her knees and grazed her nose along the powerful chords in his heavy thighs. The caress ventured upward along his rigid length, pulsing with arousal. Her mouth covered him, giving her a shrill of delight when he groaned. Misha held him snugly, working her mouth along his length until he begged her to take things to the next level.

  With protection firmly in place, Talib wasted no time with foreplay. Misha braced her hands behind her on the bottom of the tub when he gripped a thigh, holding her secure as he claimed her.

  The sight of their reflections in the mirror roused a sharp cry from M
isha’s lips. Shallow light radiated in from the bedroom and provided an intriguing shadow. Misha swallowed around her heart lodged in her throat. The powerful vision of him kneeling above as he thrust relentlessly inside her rushed the sensation of sheer bliss through her body.

  Misha threw back her head, so overwhelmed by sensation then that she couldn’t even gasp. Before either of them could reach release, Talib withdrew. He repositioned Misha effortlessly and took her from behind. She was orgasmic the second he added his mouth to the act, working his lips and perfect teeth across her shoulders as he continued to lunge until they both came to a shattering release.

  Afterward, the lovers lounged in the tub of tepid and clear water. They felt more content than ever. Misha raked her fingers across the unyielding curves of Talib’s sculpted pecs. Her thumbnail raked one nipple while her lips brushed the other.

  “How’d it go with your client?” she asked.

  “Humph. Ducker Conrad.” Talib brushed a hand across his damp curls and grimaced. “Kid thinks he’s entitled to having it easy because he came up hard.”

  “Mmm…” Misha focused on the engravings decorating the bath tiles. “I grew up with a lot of people like that. Hell, I was like that,” she said with a chuckle. “Then, I finally got it. Nobody was gonna give me a damn thing just ’cause I expected it.”

  “And you’ve put your finger right on Mr. Conrad’s problem.” Talib smirked while massaging the bridge of his nose. “It’s a damn shame anyway. It’s not difficult to see why he’s having such trouble—kid had all the makings of a great childhood. Just wasn’t meant to be. Unfortunately, nobody warned him of that part.”

  Misha inched up, taking in his expression as she moved. She wondered how much of that explanation reflected on Talib himself. “So did he grow up that hard?” she asked, hoping in turn to obtain more information about the man she rested against.

  Talib rubbed the small of her back and sighed. “Not in the way you think, though. His family’s financially sound. His dad owns a place on the outskirts of Tucson—incredible ranch.”

  “So what happened?”

 

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