by Jianne Carlo
Working with quiet, lithe steps, Su-Lin covered ass to shoulders three times, and he never spoke, not a word, just emitted a series of soft groans. When Terrence released a small snore, Su-Lin took the massage to the floor, kneeling beside his arms, and using her thumbs, she hit each acupressure point for the major muscles.
An eternity later, she rolled him onto his back.
One eye flickered open, and he mumbled, “Heaven.”
“Shh,” she whispered and continued. Starting at his feet, doing a minireflexology massage, working the knots out of brawny calf muscles, caressing his strapping thighs. Heat seemed to rise from his skin and Terry’s legs rippled and shifted under her palms.
In deliberate evasion, she refused to let her eyes wander to his arousal or concentrate on the excitement evidenced by her wet pussy.
Her final destination.
Su-Lin sat back on her haunches and her lungs refused to function, stuttering to a halt, at the wonder of the perfect man, at being able to touch him, at his desire for her.
“You are so beautiful, Terrence. So wonderful.” She traced a finger along either side of his penis, her touch light. “I never thought a penis could be beautiful, but I think we should have yours bronzed.”
Cradling his erection between curling fingers, she ran his foreskin down and sighed when she exposed the engorged satin crown. Closing her eyes, she learned the head of his cock by tongue. Light licks at first, then more of a lollipop stroke, then little sips around the rim, and a teasing insert into the sweet slit.
“Jaysus, take me, darlin’.”
With a surprising gentleness, he cupped the back of her neck and guided her mouth down to him. She suckled the whole head in. One hand keeping his foreskin tight, she cupped one testicle and slid her mouth down another inch. Another minute quarter inch, and then Su-Lin found a rhythm, a slow up and down, his cock slicking with each stroke, each pull and drag of her lips.
Musk overwhelmed her nostrils, hers, his, and a salty precum tingled her tongue, tickling the roof of her mouth and flicking lightning to her pearl of heaven. He fisted a hand in her hair and his hips rose to meet her, thrusting faster, deeper, quickening until he shouted, and she lapped and suckled and cleaned him dry.
Chapter Eight
Terry knew he should move, and though he ordered every muscle into play, not a single one responded. Hooding his eyes, he trailed Su-Lin’s graceful meditative pose, legs crossed, back straight, long, sable hair curling over golden skin, framing a beauty so precious, a face so filled with the best of humanity, it made his black soul seem darker.
“Come here, darlin’.” Crooking a finger, his lips curved when she flashed him that wide, saucy grin he so liked. “Your turn.”
“No,” she said, but moved to lie on top of him, crossed her forearms over his chest, and propped her chin with both hands. “I don’t need a turn. Not right now, anyway. It’s later. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Me. I’m what’s wrong.
A shadow crossed her features and he read every thought in the uncertain tilt of her head as she studied him. “You’d tell me if I did something wrong? You know, before?”
Shaking his head, the lassitude coating his reactions receded, he dragged her closer and cupped one breast, rubbed a thumb over an erect nipple. “You did everything so right, darlin’, that I can hardly move. What did you do today?”
“We went to a bookstore, and Thomas bought an antique map for a friend of his. We had lunch in the Cours Saleya plaza. What did you do?”
“I bought you a present.”
“You did?” She sat up, and he did too, enjoying the delighted little shiver-jiggle she did, palms together, jade eyes fizzing champagne bubbles.
Terry rose, interlocking their fingers, and led her to the bed.
“I want to see you in my bed, darlin’, between the sheets.” He turned down the comforter and waved his hand at the burgundy satin sheets he’d purchased on impulse, picturing Su-Lin naked against the rich vampire color.
“I feel wicked,” she quipped, and her hands slid along the satin, fingers curving into the material. “Samantha on Sex and the City had satin sheets. They feel wonderful.”
Sitting on the bed, he arranged her so she lay in the middle, long hair spread like a fan. “You take my breath away, Su-Lin. You are so beautiful, so brimming with goodness. You shouldn’t be with a man like me, darlin’.”
Scooting over to him, she laid a palm over his heart. “You are a good man, Terrence. I know it here.” Taking his hand, she put it on her chest.
His fingers throbbed with the strong beat of her life force, and the moment strummed out; then a snapshot of him screwing Carol-Ann curdled the sweetness of her gesture. Terry stood, the abrupt move unsteadying Su-Lin, and she fell onto her elbows. He stalked over to the dresser, and her jeweled gaze followed him in the mirror moving from the polished furniture to three gift-wrapped boxes lined up in a row on the dresser. Balancing the boxes on one open palm, he swung around and halted when her lower lip trembled visibly.
Turmoil fumbled his fingers, and he almost dropped one of the dainty presents, but scrambled as one fell and scooped it out of the air. The childlike joy that had lit her features minutes earlier had fallen away, replaced by the wary stare of a mouse watching a wild tomcat. He stifled a self-deprecating curse and knew he was bad for her, a corruptor of her innocence.
“You don’t have to give me them, if you don’t want to.” She folded her hands over her thighs, her thumb brushing the inky curls of pubic hair, and the gesture thrilled his cock into seeping a few drops.
“I ruined the whole thing, didn’t I?” He set the boxes next to her. “I haven’t bought a present in years. I’m obviously out of practice.”
Massaging the sudden knot at his neck, Terry finally lifted his head, and when he caught a glimpse of Su-Lin’s face, he crumpled inside.
“Don’t cry, darlin’,” he crooned, lifting her onto his lap. “Shh, don’t cry.” Thumbing away her tears, he rocked her and tucked her closer.
One small hand pushed at his chest, and she swiped across her cheeks. “These are happy tears, Terrence.” She sipped his mouth, champagne tastes, her hot tongue bubbling a path straight to his prick.
Twisting the satin into bunches, he broke the kiss, knowing in one more second he’d flip her onto her back, spread those athletic thighs, and pound into that hot pussy.
“Open your presents.” His voice surprised him, so feral with need it was a wonder she didn’t up and race out of the room.
“Terrence?”
“Open this one first,” he said and picked up the smallest one, a candy cane-striped box with a shell pink chiffon bow.
She didn’t have the usual masks people donned to deal with the cruelty society dosed out as infants grew into adulthood. Childlike wonder lifted the corners of her mouth, and the charm of raised eyebrows, almost-imperceptible peeps at him, washed away the stain of encountering Carol-Ann that morning.
Undoing the bow, careful not to damage it, she peeled away the dainty ribbons, and he watched as her chest expanded and held, uptipped breasts pearling into taut points.
“Earrings,” she breathed and chewed on her lower lip, staring at the two princess-cut emeralds, the exact shade of her eyes.
“Another happy tear?” he croaked, as a lone drop did a graceful slide down her soft, smooth skin. Terry bent forward and drank it, inhaling a faint remnant of a citrus perfume.
She nodded and looped her arms around his neck. “I know I must have gotten presents from my parents, but I don’t remember them. This is my first real present. Thank you. I’ll treasure them forever.”
“Put them on, and then we’ll open the others.” He lifted her hips so his cock nestled in her crease and knew he rained semen there.
Her little wriggles strained his disappearing discipline, and for the zillionth time, Terry searched for a way to take her, claim her, brand her his, but leave her innocence intact.
“What do y
ou think?” She tucked her black hair behind her ears, and the emeralds glistened and sparkled in the faint candlelight.
“You look like an exotic princess, darlin’.” Brushing their lips together, his fingers scrambled for the other two boxes. “Now this one.”
When she set about opening it in the same manner, with slow, precise movements, he snatched the package from her and ripped off the wrapping.
“I wanted to keep the bows,” she muttered and quelled him with a schoolmarm glare.
“Go on,” he said and angled his chin at the box.
“Are they little jams?” she asked, brows slashed.
“They’re flavored lubricants. You put them here,” he said, his voice husking as he separated her folds and rimmed her entrance. She drenched his fingers, tight channel tensing and flexing around them. “We need to make you very, very wet so it won’t hurt.”
“Oh.” Roses bloomed in her cheeks. “Now I feel really, really wicked.”
Su-Lin’s lips pursed into the most adorable pout, and Terry burst into laughter.
“It’s not funny,” she said and hit him on the shoulder.
“Feel that,” he ordered, twitching his cock into her cupped hand. “I know how not funny this whole situation is, darlin’. All I can think about, dream about, is being inside you.” She didn’t look convinced. “Open the last one.”
Preempting her struggle with the bow, he ripped it off and gave her the box.
“I thought about buying one of these after that morning in the steam room.”
“Sweet little you? I don’t believe it.” He twined a silken lock around his forefinger.
“I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”
Seeing her fingers caressing the flesh-colored vibrator fevered his prick into a furious jerking and weeping. Terry groaned aloud when her uncle’s deep rumble carried through the open doorway connecting their cabins.
Su-Lin flinched and guilt stained every delicious inch of her flesh. She scurried off his lap and sprinted into the other room.
He eyed his randy cock, and his mouth twisted into a rueful grin. “Later, boyo, later.”
His Asian aphrodisiac proved intoxicating indeed. In the space of mere minutes, Su-Lin had somehow cleansed the Carol-Ann filth scouring his soul.
Did Thomas know their stepmother was in Nice? Did Father?
Cowardice had dictated his reaction to the nightmare of Carol-Ann walking toward him wearing a sultry smile. He’d whipped around and scuttled away like a stalked mouse. A shiver of shame raised goose bumps on his neck, and he kneaded the bunched muscles with a thumb.
Issues he’d avoided for a decade tunneled toward implosion, and he could no longer delay the inevitable confrontation. Admitting to his relationship with Carol-Ann would only widen the rift between him and his father. But could he continue to live with himself if he didn’t? What would Su-Lin think of him when the truth came out?
The bottle of Jameson whiskey glinted almost-irresistible temptation, but the expression on Su-Lin’s face when she saw the earrings earlier held sway, and he kept that picture in his head while showering and dressing. For too long he’d let alcohol dull his pain; not anymore, not with Su-Lin in the picture.
An hour later, he found Thomas and Su-Lin laughing, her tinkling giggle music to his ears.
“What’s up with you two?”
“Thomas was telling me about the time you two streaked the championship soccer game.”
“I hope you stopped with that,” he said, warning a flick at his brother.
“You know better. I promised her a picture,” Thomas said, and Terry had to smile when he recognized the devilish intent promised in his brother’s sparkling eyes. It felt like old times.
Su-Lin sidled closer to him, her actions unconscious, and a stray ray of sunshine highlighted the dazzling shine of his emerald earrings. Unable to stop, he draped his arm over her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. Sniffing, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the familiar lemon-scented shampoo she used.
“Did anyone inform you about this evening’s plans?”
A warming sun cast a honeyed glow about the entertainment room, and it shaded her loose hair the inkiest soot possible. The morning spent under a cloudless Mediterranean sky had kissed roses on her cheeks and dusted gold on her bare shoulders.
With a start, he recalled his brother’s question. “Plans, Thom?”
“Emma and James ran into Geoff and Suresh. We’re all invited out for dinner. Father’s already declined. He’s heading up to Grasse and will return with us after the masked ball.”
“Masked ball?” Terry asked, and his Su-Lin glow faded. “You agreed to all this, darlin’?”
“My uncle and aunt have already accepted,” she replied. “I’ve never been to a ball, far less a masked one.”
The CNN announcer’s voice grated a background headache at his temples, and Terry fought to control the pettish irritation the thought of sharing Su-Lin’s company spurted.
“What time is dinner? And when and where is this masked ball?” He knuckled the side of his head. “Wait a minute, how do your relatives know either Suresh or Geoff?”
She lifted a shoulder and replied, “I didn’t know they did. Maybe through business matters?”
“I’ll find out from Geoff. I guess we have no choice about dinner tonight.” Terry pursed his lips. “This is not what I had in mind, darlin’.”
“We’re meeting everyone on deck in ten minutes.” Thomas’s glance strayed to the white outline of a strap where his watch used to sit, and he winced. “I have to buy a new watch. The masked ball is tomorrow night at a hotel in Grasse. It’s to raise funds for Suresh’s new charity.”
“What happened to your watch?”
“We ran into a group of Gypsy children in Nice. Su-Lin wanted to help them, so we gave them food and a change of clothes. In the process, one of them nipped my watch.”
“You? Suckered by a Gypsy child? Fricking hell, you’ve lost your touch, boyo. A time back you could outdo us all.”
“You can pick pockets?” Su-Lin asked.
“I will not teach you how to pick pockets, Su-Lin. Don’t even think about it.” Thomas used his Scout leader, lecturing tone.
Terry grinned as his little aphrodisiac blushed.
“May as well start heading up. Unless either of you wants a drink? Thom? Su-Lin?”
She shook her head.
“A headache’s been simmering all day. I took pain pills, so no alcohol for me tonight.”
“Before we go up, Thomas, let me do some acupressure for your headache, it’ll help, I promise. Sit on that chair.”
Jealousy bit the throbbing in Terry’s head into full bloom. His eyes traced Su-Lin’s fingers as she tousled his twin’s hair. Thom leaned back, and her stomach cradled the back of his head.
Terry’s short fingernails stabbed his rough palms.
“Better?” she asked and twisted around to see Thomas’s face.
“Marvelous. Too bad that won’t work on the tumor.”
“I could do it every day, if you’d like. It may stave off the headaches.”
CNN faded into a commercial, and the volume increased threefold. Terry snatched up the remote and hit the Power icon. Blessed silence reigned until Su-Lin spoke, her voice wavering over the first few words.
“Terry, I don’t want my uncle and aunt to know about you and me.”
Color ripped across her cheeks, and the insult sent Terry’s stomach into a boil. “I guess that’s why you’re not wearing my earrings. You certainly won’t want my company tonight.”
“Don’t be a jackass, Ter. These people are virtual strangers to Su-Lin, and she can’t anticipate how they’ll react to her sleeping with you. And that’s all that it is, isn’t it? According to you, you don’t have relationships, you screw.”
“Shut your fricking mouth, Thomas, and scram. Su-Lin, look at me.” He tipped her chin up, desperation forcing a gentle murmur while his brain screamed obsceni
ties, and his heart stammered into a barrel-roll nosedive.
Tears swamped her eyelashes.
“This time it’s different. You’re different.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered, and her honey-scented breath warmed him from thumb to miserable, aching prick. “I know we only have these three weeks.”
“Maybe I want more,” he rasped and slanted his mouth over hers, cupping her bottom and grinding into her. Aided and abetted by avaricious lips, he stamped his possession, dueling with her tongue, nipping flesh, groaning when she tiptoed and her fingers cupped his jaw, stroking, caressing.
“Terry, get a grip. If we don’t get on deck soon, Su-Lin’s relatives will be down here hunting for her.” The words only penetrated because Thomas had his forearm in a snare’s vise grip, and the pain managed to register in Terry’s bemused brain.
“Go ahead,” he ordered, never breaking their manacled gaze. “We’ll be there in a second.”
“I’ll wait. You can’t be trusted alone with her.”
“Su-Lin, are we okay?”
“Yesss.” She drew the word out in a faint hiss.
“Let me escort her up, Ter. I suggest you find a jacket. That boner’s hard to miss.”
He took Thomas’s advice and went to his cabin in search of clothing. Terry joined the assembled group on deck as their taxi boat arrived ten minutes later. Dusk’s wavering shadows held sway over a navying Mediterranean, and the temperature dipped as a tacky gust swept across the deck riffling through Terry’s hair. Muddled aftershaves and a cloying, flowery perfume enveloped the gathered dinner group.
A sweep of the deck showed Thom and Harrison standing to one side, and Su-Lin bracketed by her relatives. He identified the source of the too-sweet aroma, Emma Lockheed, when he pushed between her and Su-Lin.
Something had changed.
Terry cut to James, and surprise lifted his eyebrows at the man’s scowling face, the tight set of his mouth. He no longer appeared the doting, jovial uncle. Instead, James radiated a piercing fury, and he had a dangerous edge to his squared shoulders. His pale blue eyes settled on Terry, and the menace in that gaze bristled old commando habits to the forefront.
