He sighed, rubbing his eyes as the interval began. Despite his almost miraculous recovery from the horrific injuries Eugenie had inflicted on him, the pace of their lives ever since had left him feeling exhausted—not that he would change a thing about Tomaso or his life with Boh.
But he was feeling his age, now, despite his body being fitter than it had in years, and he wondered if he were succumbing to a depression. He hoped not—right now, he had nothing, nothing, to be sad about. One of the things he loved most about Boh was that she noticed, and he found it so easy to talk about it to her.
“I wouldn’t be too hard on yourself, baby,” she said, late one night as they lay in bed. “You went through hell.” Pilot smiled at her as she stroked his face. There was so much love in her sweet eyes that he knew whatever came for them, they would get through it together.
Later, as they took their sleeping son home, Boh smiled at him. “Hungry?”
“For you? Always.”
She giggled at him. “I’m always available for you to, um, munch on.”
Pilot pulled a face. “Yeah, that killed the moment.” He laughed as she chuckled. She opened their refrigerator and sighed. “Pasta?”
“Pasta.”
They ate together, holding hands, at their breakfast bar in the kitchen. Boh studied her husband. “You okay, baby? Stressed about the trial?”
“I have no reason to be, but, yes,” he shrugged, wanting to be honest with her. “I hate the thought of us being in the same room as that bitch.”
“For one of the very last times, and then she’s gone from our lives. From everyone’s life, apart from Big Bertha in the shower.”
Pilot blinked. “Huh?”
Boh grinned at him. “Big Bertha’s very popular with the girls in prison.”
“Ah, I see.”
“She has her special girlfriends.”
Pilot laughed, grateful she was trying to cheer him up. “I hear that.”
After they ate, Boh took his hand. “Come to bed, gorgeous man, I’ll make you forget about everything else.”
In the bedroom, they undressed each other and Boh kissed from his lips to his throat, nuzzling her nose along his jawline, before sinking to her knees and taking his cock into her mouth. She traced a line along the thick shaft, making Pilot suck in a deep breath.
“Christ, Boh …”
She gave a deep-throated chuckle which made his cock quiver with desire. She pushed him back onto the bed and crawled on top of him, straddling his thighs. She gripped his cock in her hand and moved the tip along her damp sex. “Can you feel how wet I am for you, baby?”
She guided him inside and he groaned as her velvety cunt enveloped his cock. Boh gave a shaky moan as he filled her and she spread her legs wider to accommodate him. “God, you’re so big, Pilot …”
She began to move, her full breasts moving with her. Pilot stroked her belly, feeling the slight bump, tracing his fingertip around her navel because he knew it drove her crazy, marveling at her beauty. Her dark hair tumbled down her back, almost to her waist now, and her golden skin was covered in a light sheen of dewy sweat.
Goddess. He’d called her that since the beginning of their relationship and it was still true today. His fingers curled around her hips, gripping her, keeping her impaled on his cock as she rode him.
He came, groaning her name again and again as his cock pumped his seed deep into her belly and Boh shivered and moaned as she too reached her peak. Afterward, they lay side by side, legs entwined, talking softly until they fell asleep. As Pilot drifted off, he realized Boh had distracted him from his worries.
In the morning, though, the dread returned. Today. Today they would face their worst nightmare—and he didn’t know if he was ready.
Boh could feel the tension rolling off of her husband and wishes she could give him some relief from it. There was no way to avoid today if they wanted to see Eugenie get her just desserts. Boh had wanted to rip the woman limb from limb for hurting Pilot, but she knew she would never have gone through with it. It wasn’t in her nature to kill. Just maim, she thought with a grim smile now. They sat in the courtroom, waiting for Eugenie to be brought in. She felt Pilot tense every time the door that led to the holding cells opened.
Finally, it opened, and there she was. Eugenie, in an orange jumpsuit, her hands cuffed to a chain around her waist, flanked by two female prison guards. The blonde woman, even thinner than when they saw her last, her face pinched, her beauty gone, stared at them with dead, cold eyes and Boh shivered. She felt Pilot squeeze her hand, comforting her now.
They all stood as the judge came into the room, and she waved them down.
“Mr. Holden,” she spoke to the lead defense lawyer, “I believe you have something to say.”
“Yes, your honor. My client wishes to change her plea in exchange for the opportunity to make a statement.”
The judge peered at him over her glasses. “A plea change?” She looked at the district attorney, who shook his head.
“We know nothing about this, your honor.”
The judge looked at Holden. “What does your client wish to plead to?”
“On condition she is allowed to speak … she will plead guilty to all charges.”
A shocked murmur went around the courtroom. Boh and Pilot looked at each other. Could it really be over in a matter of minutes? What was Eugenie playing at?
The judge looked at Eugenie. “Miss Radcliffe-Morgan, please stand.”
Genie shuffled to her feet. “Yes, your honor.”
“You wish to make a statement?”
“Yes, your honor.”
The judge tapped her pen on the desk in front of her, pondering. “Fine. Before you speak, what do you plead guilty to?”
Eugenie’s voice was clear. “To the murder of Serena Carver, the attempted murders of Pilot Scamo and Boheme Dali …” She turned to look straight at Pilot, and she smiled. “… and the murder of my unborn child with Pilot Scamo five years ago.”
As the courtroom erupted, both Boh and Pilot stared at each other in horror.
Boh ended the call and went to find Pilot. He was sitting on the balcony of their apartment, staring at nothing. Boh slid her arms around him and he leaned into her embrace but stayed silent and Boh could tell he was absolutely broken. The pain that she had first seen in his eyes when they first met was back and she felt helpless to make him feel better.
“Your mom is keeping Tomi for another couple of days, baby.”
Pilot nodded, but Boh didn’t know if her words had sunk in.
After Eugenie’s statement, the truth had come out. At the time she had been eight months pregnant with Plot’s child, Genie had manufactured a “fall” which resulted in a miscarriage. She had given birth to a dead, but otherwise perfect baby girl, and Pilot had been shattered by the loss. Genie had acted her part, but really she had thrown herself down a flight of stairs because she had found out Pilot had consulted a divorce lawyer and was planning to leave her. Genie had known Pilot would go for full custody of their baby—his love for his unborn child unlimited.
Boh knew now the depths of Eugenie’s evil, and she was at a loss as to how to help Pilot out of his slump. She knew he loved her and Tomi and their unborn child more than his own life, but this had to be the worst thing to come out of the trial. The cruelty of Eugenie took her breath away.
The judge had been equally unimpressed. “Ms. Radcliffe-Morgan,” her voice was like ice, “the fact that you are prepared to come into this courtroom and plead guilty just to cause your ex-husband even more pain is quite simply beyond the pale. There are no words to describe the depths of your depravity.”
She had sentenced Eugenie to four life sentences—Genie would never see the light of day again. Eugenie smirked, staring at Pilot until she was led away, back to the cells.
Pilot had been frozen and Boh had to gently pull him to his feet, away from the sympathetic glances of the court. He hadn’t broken down, but she had seen how shatt
ered he was.
She sat down next to him now and took his hand. “Baby?”
He looked at her and she had to hold in a gasp of distress. His usually brilliant green eyes were dulled and he looked like a man broken. “Why? Why would anyone do that?”
Boh shook her head. “I don’t know, baby; I can’t fathom the cruelty. I wish, I so wish, I could take your pain away for you.”
Pilot suddenly leaned into her and she wrapped her arms around him as he laid his head against her chest. “I love you so much, Pilot. Me, Tomi, your Mom and sister … even our little bean inside me. You are so loved.”
“I know, and I’m sorry that this is affecting me so much when I have all the reason in the world to be happy.” He sat up and looked at her. “And I am … I just—”
“—need time to process. Of course you do.” She stroked his face. “Listen, your mom had a suggestion and I told her I’d talk about with you.”
“Which is?”
“That she keep Tomi for two weeks, like she was planning to anyway, and we go away. Just the two of us, somewhere private, so we can regroup. Heal. Have some us time before the new baby. I think it’s a good idea.”
Pilot was silent for a few moments, and Boh wondered if he felt he was being managed. But then he nodded. “I think that would be good.”
Boh’s body relaxed and she felt as if a weight had been lifted. “Good. I’ll make the arrangements.”
They flew down to the Caribbean the following day, to a secluded private villa on the island of Guadeloupe. They took a cab from the airport and as they traveled, the fresh, warm air of the tropics breezed over them. Pilot drew in a lungful of the air and felt a slight lifting of the pain that had wracked him since Eugenie’s confession.
He’d hardy slept, remembering holding his daughter in his arms, willing her to suddenly open her eyes and live. It had shattered him then, and now he realized, he had never processed what happened.
His arms tightened unconsciously around Boh and she smiled up at him. He knew, without a doubt, that she would be the key to his way through this. He pressed his lips to hers, tasting her sweetness. “I love you,” he whispered, and she grinned.
“Good,” she whispered back, shooting a quick look at the driver, “because I’m going to be doing some very, very dirty things to you when we get to the villa.”
He chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”
The villa was gorgeous. Set on a tiny private beach, it had wall-to-veiling sliding glass windows, which Boh immediately went to and opened, letting the breeze in. Pilot dumped their cases in the large bedroom, a four-poster bed swathed in white mosquito netting. He heard Boh pad into the rom behind him.
She was already naked, her dress in her hand. She grinned as he laughed. “Just thought I’d save some time.”
Pilot slid his hands down her body as she tugged open his shirt. “Have I told you how goddamned beautiful you are today, Mrs. Scamo?”
Boh grinned. “Eighteen months and I still love hearing that name. I’m yours, Pilot, forever and always.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Her hands were at his fly now, and she rubbed the length of his stiffening cock through his pants. “All that for me?”
“All of it,” he leered playfully and she giggled. Pilot kicked his jeans off and Boh freed his cock from his underwear.
“Want me to suck you, baby?”
Pilot grinned, shaking his head. “No … my turn first.” He swept her onto the bed and kissed her lips, her throat down to her belly. “Open your delicious thighs for me, baby.”
Boh gave a little gasp as his mouth found her sex, his tongue flicking fast around her clit, teasing it, tasting her. “Oh, God, Pilot … Pilot …”
His fingers massaged the soft flesh of her inner thigh as he brought her close to orgasm, his tongue plunging deep into her cunt. Boh’s hand were tangled in his curls, pulling on them slightly as she gave in to the sensations he knew she was feeling. As her back arched and she came, gasping and panting, Pilot moved up her body and plunged his cock deep inside her.
Boh kissed him fiercely. “I love you. I love you,” she gasped, then let out a cry as she came again, tightening her thighs around his hips as he slammed his cock into her again and again, wanting to consume her and give her the ultimate pleasure. He came, murmuring her name, burying his face in her neck as he pumped thick, creamy semen inside her.
Afterward, they lay on the bed, limbs tangled, talking until they fell asleep, tired from the journey.
When Pilot woke, it was early evening and the bed was empty beside him. He tugged on his jeans and went to find Boh. She was in the kitchen, preparing supper, cutting up Asian pears for a fruit salad. Wearing just denim shorts and a white cotton top, her hair loose down her back, she had never looked more beautiful to him.
“The tropics suit you, baby.”
“Hello, gorgeous man. Hungry? There’s a grill outside and I went to the little store to get some fresh tuna steaks.”
Pilot’s eyebrows raised. “You’ve been out? How long was I asleep?”
“About four hours.”
“You should have woken me.” He stole a piece of pear and crunched down on it, the sweet juices running down his chin. Boh grinned and kissed it away.
“Nah, you needed to sleep. That’s what this vacation is about. When this nugget comes, neither of us will get much.” She patted her belly. Pilot put his hand over the small bump, splaying his fingers.
“I hope it’s a girl,” he said now, but couldn’t go on. Boh stroked his face.
“You know, if you want to talk about your daughter, you can. It might help.”
Pilot shook his head. “I can’t. Not yet, Boh. I can’t.”
She brushed her lips against his. “Okay, sweetheart. When you’re ready.”
But he didn’t know if he’d ever be ready to talk about it. The pain was just too searing. His murdered child. Christ …
“Pilot, want to come help me fire this grill up?”
They worked together to prepare their supper of grilled fish and vegetables, followed by the fruit salad. A bottle of white wine later, and they cuddled up on one of the sun loungers to watch the sunset.
“Could we be more cliché?” Boh chuckled and Pilot laughed.
“I don’t care. All lovers should do this at least once in a lifetime.” He tangled his fingers in her long hair and tilted her face up so he could kiss her. “This was a good idea to come here, Boh. Thank you.”
“Your mom and I conspired,” she said with a laugh. Since the wedding, she and Pilot’s mom, Blair, had grown even closer, much to Pilot’s joy—and Boh’s. Her own relationship with her birth family was non-existent now. She hadn’t invited them to the wedding—in place of her father walking her down the aisle, she had chosen Grace to accompany her.
Pilot pressed his lips against her forehead. This young woman was his life now, his family. Tomaso had been born, and the love he felt for his son was limitless. The little boy, so full of joy and mischief, adored both his parents, and they doted on him. When Boh had told him she wanted to go back to work so soon after Tomi’s birth, Pilot had been supportive. “Boh, I’ll stay home with Tomi—your career is important to both of us. All of us.”
And he’d loved it, staying home with Tomi, bonding with his son. Taking him to play with other kids, Boh teased Pilot that the mommies would all fall in love with Pilot. He rolled his eyes, and actually, there were a couple of other stay-at-home dads with whom he had become friendly.
He’d never talked to Boh about how he thought about his dead daughter at those times. How she would be old enough to appreciate her half-brother right now. He had known that he was going to leave Eugenie for the good of both himself and their child. He’d readied everything, the divorce lawyer, the case of full custody, all with burner phones and the help of his mother and sister.
Then a temp secretary from his lawyer’s office misread the file and called the house directly. Eugenie talked to
her and guessed what he was doing. She played it as if she were sad but resigned, even treated him with respect and not the usual screeching harpy he’d been living with for the past few years. Had they ever been happy? During the months of her pregnancy, there were hints of what it had been like at the beginning; joyful, happy, together.
Eugenie waited until the eighth month to kill their child. Even now, having heard it from her lips, he couldn’t believe the sheer cruelty of it. He had been ready to be a father, ready for that responsibility, almost too excited, and she had known it.
Pilot shivered now and Boh looked up, her lovely eyes concerned. “Okay?”
He forced a smile. “Never better.”
He would bet all the money in the world that Boh, his sweetheart, his soulmate, knew he was lying.
Boh stepped into the shower and slipped her arms around Pilot’s waist. She pressed her lips to the scars on his back from Eugenie’s knife, then, as he turned, to the jagged surgery scars over his heart. God, how close she had been to losing him. Months and months of rehabilitation, and she still woke up from nightmares where his damaged heart gave out and she lost him.
She said nothing as she gazed up at him. The water from the shower dripped down, plastering his curls to his face. He was in all kinds of pain, she could see that, and today … she would try to break him, make him face it. She and Blair had come up with the plan, but it terrified her. She’d brought him to this secluded, private place so he could break. He could rage, scream at her, break things—and it would be okay. Nothing he could say to her in the midst of his pain would ever make her leave him. Boh knew she had to do this to him so he could heal.
After showering, they dressed, chatting idly, then as they walked into the living room, Pilot smiled at her. “So, what shall we do today? We could explore the island.”
The Virgin’s Dance_Older Man Younger Woman Romance Page 15
