Just Deserts (Kimani Romance)

by Jackson, Brenda

  She freed her mouth from his and inhaled deeply, and from the look in her eyes he could tell the kiss had affected her just as much as it had him. He would show her desperation, as well, he thought, taking a step back and kicking off his shoes. Next came his socks and shirt, and he looked at her when he began easing his pants down his legs.

  He heard her draw in a shaky breath, and the sound of it sent blood rushing through his veins. Desire, more potent than anything he had ever felt before, filled his mind, made his body tremble in anticipation.

  They stood facing each other with nothing separating them but their underwear. A long silence grew between them as they stared at each other and then simultaneously they began removing the last pieces of clothing.

  Somehow Danielle managed to remove her bra and thong before Tristan got his boxer shorts down his legs. When he straightened, she was staring at him. Her eyes traveled all over his body, taking in his broad shoulders, muscled arms, the flat plane of his stomach and then that part of him in the middle, huge and aroused.

  In return, he couldn’t help but take in all of her naked body. The perfect curves of her hips, her firm breasts with the darkened nipples, and especially every detail of her Brazilian wax. Needing to touch her, he took a step forward, reached out and slid his hands over her stomach, her hips, and then firmly clutched her backside, liking the feel of her warm flesh in his hands.

  He looked down at her just as she tilted her face to him. From her expression he knew exactly what she wanted. It was the same thing he wanted. He lowered his mouth and captured hers, immediately using his tongue to explore her, taste her, gently at first, then more deeply, and finally with an intensity that had him groaning.

  Without breaking mouth contact, he swept her into his arms and headed for his bedroom.

  Danielle sighed deeply against Tristan’s solid chest. She wasn’t sure if he was carrying her to his bedroom or hers. At the moment it didn’t matter, just as long as he found a bed. Going without for eight months had taken its toll and she needed relief.

  She needed him.

  She felt the mattress at her back when he placed her on the bed and then stood back and raked his gaze over every naked detail of her body, missing nothing. She felt neither embarrassed nor ashamed at his perusal.

  “I want to touch you all over, Dani,” he said in a husky voice. “And I want to taste you all over, too.”

  She rose on her haunches, letting her gaze take in all of him, and said in a low voice, “And I want to touch and taste you all over.”

  He moved closer to the bed and reached out, and the moment he touched her, she felt fire in his fingertips, heating her skin, seeping into her bloodstream, making her want him even more. Mesmerized, she watched the movement of his fingers across her skin, trailing a path upward to her breasts. Then his hands were kneading her there, stroking her and eliciting a need to touch him as intimately.

  She reached down and took his erection in her hand, hearing his breath catch when she did so. And then she began stroking him with the same precision he was using on her breasts.

  Moments later she felt herself being lowered to the bed. She looked up as he shifted his body to straddle her before leaning down and capturing a nipple in his mouth.

  She let out a long, deep moan and then she felt his hand move to the area between her legs. Her body immediately responded as he painstakingly began stroking her feminine core.

  Her breath seemed to get caught in her throat, as if she was fearful of breathing. Tension filled her body, unlike anything she’d experienced in a long time, if ever. She felt on the verge of breaking in two.

  “Tristan.”

  She said his name as the searing impact of what was happening to her hit home. She felt her insides tighten, and then when he let go of her breasts and lifted his head and looked at her, the darkness in his eyes sent emotions riveting through her.

  “That was the touch,” he whispered in a throaty voice as a slow smile curved his lips. “Now for the taste.”

  And then before she could blink, he had shifted his body and lowered his head between her legs. He grasped her hips, and the moment he inserted his tongue inside her, she felt boneless, ready to shoot off the bed. But his firm grip on her hips kept her from moving, held her a prisoner beneath his mouth. And she gloried in captivity, felt hot clenching pleasure under his restraints. It seemed as if his tongue went deeper, as if it thickened with the places it touched.

  Her hands clutched his shoulders and suddenly she felt her body come apart as she was tossed into a sea of pleasure where wave after wave of ecstasy took her under.

  “Tristan!”

  She screamed his name as she felt her body break into tiny pieces. But he didn’t let up. He didn’t let go. At least not until the last shudder passed through her. After lapping her one last time, as if for good measure, he raised his head and licked his lips before easing his body in place over hers. Then, looking deep into her eyes, holding her gaze, he slowly entered her body.

  Before she could pull in a breath, he began moving, stroking her insides with long, hard thrusts, and she suddenly felt the buildup of passion and desire all over again. The tempo of his thrusts increased. It might have been her imagination, but she felt the bed shake, everything begin to spin. The appeasement of desperation had never been so good, so full of fire and physical responsiveness.

  He was taking more than she thought she had to give and was giving more than she thought it was possible to receive. And then she heard his throaty growl and felt his body jerk the same moment she felt another explosion rip into her. She screamed, marking his shoulders with her fingernails, but his thrusts kept coming, going deeper and deeper.

  When the room finally stopped spinning and the bed stopped shaking, she gave in to sensations that were too numerous to name, but she felt each and every one of them. And she was helpless to do anything but tumble into sweet, sensual oblivion.

  Chapter 6

  There were very few reasons for Danielle to sleep late on any given morning. Being tired from making love all night had never been one of them.

  She could barely open her eyes to glance at the clock on the nightstand, and at the moment she couldn’t recall whose bed it was. They had started out in Tristan’s bed, but sometime during the wee hours of the morning after they had gotten up to take a bath together in the large Jacuzzi tub, they had ended up in her bed.

  “Ready for a few more rounds?”

  She shifted her eyes to Tristan. He was lying on his back, totally naked and definitely aroused. He had to be kidding. But the heated look in his eyes told her that he was dead serious. She wondered what kind of vitamins he was taking and somehow found the strength to laugh. “Are you trying to scare me, Tristan?”

  He smiled. “Scare you about what?”

  “The size. It seems to have gotten bigger.”

  Now it was Tristan who laughed, not believing the conversation they were having. “You’re imagining things, Dani, but there’s one way to find out.” And before she could blink he had straddled her body, sliding between her legs as if he rightly belonged there.

  Tristan heard Danielle’s sharp intake of breath when he gripped her hips and nudged her legs apart, then lowered the tip of his aroused shaft very close to the entrance to her feminine core.

  “Let’s see if it can still get in,” he said in a husky voice as he slowly began easing inside of her. Their gazes held as her body automatically stretched to accommodate him.

  Danielle held tight to Tristan’s shoulders, and what she felt was not discomfort but an immediate stirring of desire and passion. The deeper he entered her, the more she felt the fullness of him. It seemed her senses became aligned with a momentous need that only he could appease. When he sank into her to the hilt, he paused, making her fully aware of just how deep he had gone, how tight the connection. She studied his features—the clenched jaw, the nostrils that were flaring with each breath he took and the dark eyes that bore into her.
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br />   “Do you want me to start moving now?” he asked moments later in a voice so low she had to strain her ears to hear it. Gripping his shoulders tighter, she whispered back, “I’d be tempted to hurt you if you don’t.”

  She could tell by the look that touched his features that he was amused. Amused and aroused. From the feel of things that was a fascinating combination. “Hurt me?” At her nod, he couldn’t help but ask, “How can you hurt me?”

  “Like this, Tris.”

  She began clenching her inner muscles, securing him with a strong hold and then releasing him. She did it over and over, and the action had a milking effect on his shaft, as if she was deliberately pulling everything out of it. He found her actions so mind-blowing that he had to remind himself to breathe. He shook his head, trying to retain control of his senses, the same senses that were getting shot to hell each and every time she clenched her muscles. When he was finally capable of speech, he said, “Sweetheart, if this is your brand of torture, then you can torture me anytime. This is definitely the kind of pain I enjoy.”

  She smiled. “Glad to hear it. Now will you move? The wait is killing me.”

  In response to her request he began moving, releasing a slow breath with each and every methodical stroke inside her. She took advantage of the rhythm and began moving her hips in a well-blended, near-perfect rotation to his, a mating dance created just for them.

  “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he said when she moved and then clenched her muscles, moved and then clenched, doing so with agonizing precision, fine-tuned deliberation. If she was priming him for something, what she was doing with her body was one surefire way to ignite the flame inside of him.

  He moved his hands under her to lift her bottom for even deeper penetration, seizing the moment to drive her over the edge while knowing he would be following close behind. He felt blood, hot and thick, flow through his veins, especially the ones in his shaft. It felt engorged, close to erupting.

  When she began tumbling she screamed out his name and clamped her inner muscles tight around him and then started milking him furiously, with everything she had, demanding everything from him that he had to give. His thrusts increased until suddenly his entire body went off inside her in one gigantic explosion, shooting his seed into the depth of her womb. It was then that she moved her legs to lock hers with his, making sure he didn’t go anywhere. He didn’t. He stayed put and continued to flood her insides with the very essence of him.

  When she shuddered while calling his name, he felt it all the way to his bones. He wanted to mentally absorb it into his brain, spread it through his mind. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t get enough of her. The only thing he could do was take and give, repeatedly, all over again. It was a simple gesture, a compelling need, and until that very moment, he’d had no idea of the degree of love and passion that a man could feel for a woman.

  Holding her close to his heart, he rode the tide of intense satisfaction and fulfillment with her in total abandonment and pure, attainable joy.

  “Will you tell me again why we’re here and not back at the hotel?” Tristan asked softly.

  Dani glanced over her shoulder at him and found she was very close to his face, specifically his lips. She was tempted to stick out her tongue and get a taste, but she couldn’t do that, not in a crowded department store.

  “I need to pick up something for Renée and Chris’s wedding.” She then returned to checking out a beautiful porcelain vase.

  “I wouldn’t buy that if I were you,” Tristan said close to her ear again. “Especially if you’re thinking about transporting it on the plane.”

  He was right. She had seen the way their luggage had gotten tossed around at the airport. “That’s why we should consider expanding our business out here, Tris.”

  Right now they were a regional operation, and although they had a number of clients and were doing well financially, she’d always tossed around the idea of expansion and felt it was time to test the waters.

  “I know we’re here on vacation, but I think we should use the opportunity to check out a few things.”

  He raised a brow. “A few things like what?”

  “The possibility of our buying Shipping Source.”

  For years Shipping Source had been their rival. It had expanded from the East Coast to the West and had even picked up a few Northern states in the process. The company had been doing extremely well until the owner suddenly passed away. His only son, a professional football player, had no desire to step into his father’s shoes and had made the decision to sell the company.

  Danielle and Tristan had discussed the possibility of a merger, but news of Marc’s death had placed it on the back burner. During the days following Marc’s funeral when tension between her, Alex and Renée was high, Renée had threatened to freeze Danielle and Alex’s assets until the matter of which of them was Marc’s legal wife was settled.

  “What do you think, Tris?”

  Tristan didn’t want to tell her, but he’d thought a lot about it and was glad she was taking the initiative to move on in her life by once again considering such a measure. Buying Shipping Source would be the first step and would show that she was in the business for the long haul. He would be the first to admit that he sometimes wondered if she would want to pursue another profession. He was pretty convinced that she wouldn’t return to modeling, but a woman with Dani’s looks, personality and brains would be a valuable asset to any business. She was sharp as a tack when it came to business matters. She knew their shipping company inside and out, mainly because Paul had always included her. While she was in college she’d worked for them over the summers, and then later, she would take time off from her modeling career to pitch in during the Christmas holidays, their busiest time.

  Those had been some of the best days of Tristan’s life. Paul had been with them and they had made one hell of a team. At the end of the day they would retire to their favorite bar-and-grill, and while drinking beer and eating pretzels, Dani would bring them up-to-date on her life as a high-fashion model.

  Everyone in the Port St. Lucie community loved her and was proud of her achievements. This was because each time she returned home to them, she was Danielle Timmons, the unaffected local girl who’d made it good but never thought herself better than anyone else.

  “What you’re suggesting will take up a lot of our time, Dani,” he decided to say. “It will be one hell of a commitment to make.”

  She met his gaze beseechingly. “I know, but I believe we can do it, Tris.”

  He believed they could do it, as well, and it would definitely give her something else besides her phony marriage to Marc to focus on. “Okay, then, I’ll contact our attorney when we get back.”

  As they continued walking through the department store, he couldn’t help but remember what had transpired between them last night and this morning. He had wanted her with a passion and had taken her that way. They had been good together and he was convinced even she knew it.

  When Tristan suddenly noticed they were in the ladies’ department of the store, he knew what he was in for. He had gone shopping with Danielle too many times not to know the routine. “I prefer that if you start taking your clothes off, we go back to the hotel.”

  Her lips twitched. “Yeah, but I won’t have a full rack of clothes to try on,” she said as if to reason with him.

  He studied her for a moment, from the top of her head to her feet. She was wearing a printed V-neck stretched T with an embroidered scalloped-hem skirt of ocean blue, and a pair of taupe strappy sandals on her feet. Without even trying she looked liked a model, someone who should grace the covers of any fashion magazine.

  “You don’t need a rack of clothes to try on.” He leaned closer and whispered, “You can always try me on. I promise you can wear me well.”

  A sensation suddenly got lodged in his chest as he remembered how many times over the past twelve hours her body had been plastered skin to skin to his. He had been in
side her so much that a part of him was thinking it had found a permanent home. He wondered if she thought that once they returned to Port St. Lucie, things would go back to the way they were. Just to make sure they were on the same page, he said, “So, do you want to move into my place permanently when we return home?”

  Her expression indicated that he had gotten her attention. She smiled as if she actually thought he was teasing. “I’m already at your place now more than I’m at home, Tris.”

  “I know but I don’t want you to consider your house on Lisbon Street as home anymore.” What he was trying to say was that he didn’t want her to consider that house she’d shared with Marc as home.

  She shrugged. “To be honest with you, I don’t. I haven’t mentioned it to you, but I’m thinking of selling it. I want to look for another place. Maybe a condo.”

  He decided not to argue the point about where she’d live. He knew how to work on her in other ways to change her mind, and they were ways they would both find enjoyable. Now if only he could get her out of this damn store. He looked around and then leaned close again. “Will I be able to go into the dressing room with you for a quickie?”

  She chuckled, yet at the same time he noted that her breathing had changed. “A quickie?”

  “Um, yes. It’s where I’ll get you in a very compromising position and make it my business—with very limited time—to get inside of you, making it good for the both of us.”

  He could tell from the expression on her face that he had given her enough to fantasize about. “It could be something as simple and easy as me taking you against the wall. One, two or possibly three hard thrusts ought to do it.”

  She licked her lips. “One, two or three?” she asked in a somewhat throaty voice.

  “I guess I could go for four, although I really don’t think a fourth would be necessary. I promise to make it three good ones—hard and fast.”