Mystic Park

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Mystic Park Page 12

by Regina Hart


  “He seems to have everything: a job he enjoys and a family he loves.”

  “His life does sound perfect.” Benita turned, finding Vaughn too close. She extended her hand for his mug, placing it beside hers in the dishwasher. “And what is it that you want?”

  “What I’ve always wanted—you.” His voice was low, dark, and deep.

  CHAPTER 13

  Yes!

  Benita didn’t know how she ended up in Vaughn’s arms, but it was exactly where she’d wanted to be since the last time she’d felt his embrace. He held her so tightly to him. She felt every long, hard inch of him against every welcoming part of her. Delicious. His touch made her body ache. Benita twined her arms around his shoulders and slipped her hands up his neck and over his clean-shaven head. His skin was warm and smooth. Electricity coursed through her.

  Vaughn’s mouth moved over hers, caressing her, teasing her, filling her with anticipation. Benita parted her lips to catch her breath and Vaughn swept inside. His tongue slipped past her entrance, giving her a taste of what she could have again. And she wanted it. She craved the way he made her burn. She needed the excitement of touching him, tasting him. She longed to hear her name on his lips that way. But most of all, she ached for him to know she was the only woman who could give him what he needed. She would start by showing him what he liked.

  Benita stepped away from Vaughn, ending their kiss. He looked at her with hot cocoa eyes. Benita braced her hands on his shoulders and leaped, wrapping her legs around his hips. Vaughn’s eyes glowed. His hands squeezed her hips, pulling her tighter against his torso. The message in his eyes made Benita dampen. Her breath caught.

  She lowered her head for another kiss. But this time, she took control. She pressed her way inside and explored. She ran her tongue over his teeth. He held her tighter. She stroked the roof of his mouth. His body trembled. She suckled his tongue. Vaughn groaned, long, low, and deep in his throat. A shiver of awareness rippled through her blood.

  Vaughn turned and crossed the room. He stopped when her back pressed against a wall. “I don’t want to drop you.”

  “You’re stronger than that.”

  Vaughn groaned. “You make me weak.”

  His words, his touch, his taste, his scent, his everything conspired to make her head spin. She lowered her hands to tug his jersey over his head. Vaughn helped her. Her lips parted with awe as her gaze ate up the broad expanse of muscled nutmeg torso. Her gaze followed the narrowing trail of hair until it disappeared between them. She lowered her head to kiss him again. Her fingers played in the hair on his chest.

  Vaughn tucked a hand between them. A tug at her emerald silk blouse let her know he was freeing the row of buttons on the front of her shirt. Benita kept kissing him, tasting his lips, caressing his mouth, sucking his tongue. Vaughn stepped back from the wall and stripped her blouse free. A pull at her bra and the flesh-colored lingerie followed suit, falling to the wall-to-wall cream carpet.

  She was topless before him. Her perch at his waist left her bare breasts practically at mouth level. Benita’s breath grew shallow. Her pulse beat harder. Her nipples pebbled, aching for Vaughn’s lips.

  He lifted his gaze to hers. His cocoa gaze was scalding and intense. “You’ve always been my fantasy.”

  Benita’s heart melted. She offered him her breast. Vaughn drew her into his mouth. He suckled her, nipped her, rolled her on his tongue. Benita cupped the back of his head. She moaned her pleasure as her body flooded with desire.

  Vaughn nudged her legs free of his waist. Together, they quickly disrobed, leaving their clothes in a pile near their feet. Benita’s gaze rose from Vaughn’s large, bare feet to his long, lean legs, and up to his bold erection. Her body grew hungry at the sight of its thick, proud length. Benita stroked it with her fingertips. Vaughn caught his breath. Benita lowered herself to her knees to taste him.

  “Benita.” Vaughn’s hand cupped her shoulder. His voice held a note of caution. Was he close to the edge? So was she.

  She ran her tongue over the length of him, then drew him back into her mouth. Benita cupped his hips and found a rhythm for her ministrations. She wanted him to know this is what he’d have—and more—if he moved to L.A. with her.

  “Benny, wait.” He sounded urgent.

  Benita took him deeper, moving her tongue over him. Vaughn stepped back, his breathing ragged.

  “I want to come inside you.” He helped her to stand, then escorted her to the living room.

  Benita watched as he tossed his sofa cushions to the floor. He came back to her, swept her from her feet, and carried her to the makeshift bed. He laid her on the cushions, then braced himself on his arms above her. “This is what I want.”

  Vaughn cupped her breast, kneading it and pinching her nipple as he gazed into her eyes. Benita couldn’t lay still. Her legs shifted restlessly on the pile of cushions as sensation radiated from the tip of her breast to the core of her desire.

  “I thought you were going to come inside me.” Her voice was broken and breathless.

  “I am.” Vaughn lowered his head and kissed her.

  He stroked his tongue across the seam of her lips at the same time that he separated her folds with his fingers. Benita shivered with surprise. He penetrated her mouth with his tongue as he pressed first one finger, then a second inside her. Benita gasped. Vaughn deepened their kiss. He picked up a rocking motion with his hand. His thumb stroked her clitoris. Benita spread her thighs, hungry for his attention. Her hips lifted to him, twisting under the sensation. And then he stopped.

  “Vaughn.” Benita gritted his name past her teeth. “I need you.”

  “I need you, too.” He gave her a full-body caress with both of his hands. His palms moved over her breasts, down her torso, past her hips.

  His mouth followed. Vaughn kissed her nipples, then took her breast into his mouth. Benita’s core heated again. She felt her desire pool inside her. Vaughn kissed his way down her body, lingering at her navel, her waist, her hips. His breath blew against her nest of curls. Desire flowed freely now. Vaughn dragged his fingers through her soft shield. Her lips trembled. Benita’s muscles tightened with anticipation. Then he cupped her derriere and lifted her to his mouth. Benita gasped in surprise, anticipation. Joy. Vaughn kissed her intimately, deeply, over and over and over again. He licked her. He sipped her. And when he slipped his fingers inside her again, a fireworks display exploded behind her tightly closed eyelids. Blood pounded in her ears. Wave after wave of sensation rolled over her. Her body shook and tossed like a toy lifeboat at sea. Vaughn kissed her one last time, then lay her hips back down on the cushion.

  Benita spread her thighs as the echoes of pleasure still pulsed inside her. They’d stopped using condoms years before. Benita was on an oral contraceptive and they were both clean. Vaughn came to her and with one long, smooth thrust joined with her. Benita’s body trembled with sensation.

  Vaughn’s heart pounded in his chest so hard he thought it would punch its way free. Benita was driving him crazy with desire. It was more than her sultry body, the sexy way she kissed, or the seductive way she touched. It was the way she looked at him that said they were together. It was the way she reached for him as though she needed him close. He held her gaze as he moved inside her. He felt her inner muscles squeezing him. He clenched his teeth as sweat broke out all over his body.

  He whispered with his lips beside her ear. “None of your tricks, vixen. I want to stay inside you a little bit longer.”

  “Stay as long as you’d like.”

  Vaughn groaned. He pressed against her and rolled his hips. She wrapped her legs around him and held him close. Vaughn gathered her against him and turned onto his back.

  “Ride me.” Vaughn stared up at Benita as she straddled him. Her firm, curvy figure wore a sheen of perspiration. Her hazel eyes glowed with desire. Her hair was tangled around her heart-shaped face.

  Benita smiled. She arched her back and set a rhythm that made his eyes cross. V
aughn cupped her breasts, letting her nipples graze his palms as they bounced in time with her movements. She rocked him, squeezed him, pressed her hips against him. Vaughn panted, straining toward completion. He felt himself slipping toward the edge. He released Benita’s breasts and cupped her thighs, holding on for dear life. He heard her groans like the lyrics to a song as her body urged her to pleasure with him. Vaughn raised his hips against her, deeper, harder. His body bowed with strain. He slipped his hand between Benita’s thighs and found her spot. He touched her. Benita gasped. Her body convulsed, drawing him with her over the edge, falling together and landing as one.

  CHAPTER 14

  “Thanks for cooking breakfast.” Vaughn accepted the plate of French toast and turkey bacon Benita handed him Friday morning.

  She could smell him on the shirt he’d loaned her. His scent was a mixture of soap and cedar. Her heart squeezed.

  “You’re welcome.” Benita carried her plate to Vaughn’s kitchen table and took the seat to his right. “I would’ve made the coffee, too.”

  “You do many things well, sweetheart.” Vaughn gave her a teasing look. “Making coffee isn’t one of them.”

  “Your inability to handle my high-octane java doesn’t make it bad.” Benita cut into her French toast. “I also appreciate the loan of your shirt.”

  “It looks good on you.” The expression in Vaughn’s eyes as they skimmed the button-down powder blue shirt reminded Benita that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

  She’d fastened only a few of the buttons. Vaughn’s gaze lingered on the gap at her neckline before moving lower to where the shirt’s hem fell to midthigh. Her body grew hungry for another form of sustenance.

  “You don’t look so bad yourself.” Benita’s voice was breathless. Her eyes caressed the warm cream dress shirt that stretched across Vaughn’s broad shoulders and complimented his nutmeg skin. She’d bought him the brick red tie.

  “The last time you made me breakfast wearing my clothes was college.” Vaughn’s voice was pensive. “I was living in an apartment off campus. You wore my Heritage High football jersey.”

  “I remember that.” Benita kept her gaze on her plate as she fed herself a forkful of French toast.

  “I’m still upset about losing that jersey.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Benita pictured his jersey in her drawer with the rest of her night wear. She felt guilty but not enough to return it.

  “It just disappeared.”

  “Hmmm.” Benita made herself swallow another bite of French toast. They ate in silence for a while. Benita wrestled with her guilt over Vaughn’s jersey.

  “The same thing happened to my diary.” She finally broke the silence. “I used to write in it every day. One day it was there, the next it was gone.”

  “That’s strange.”

  “I think my mother took it. It disappeared while I was home from college during summer break.” Benita sipped her coffee. “She denies it, but who else could it be? She knew about the diary and had access to it.”

  “You have a point.”

  “It’s bad enough that she’d take my diary, but why keep it for all these years? That’s just silly.” Benita shrugged off her irritation. “Anyway, let’s talk about something happier, like how wonderful Mystic Park is.”

  “Thank you.” Pleasure warmed Vaughn’s cocoa eyes.

  “I know some producers who’d be happy to read it. It’s right up their alley.”

  The pleasure faded from his expression. “I’m not interested.”

  Benita had anticipated that response. She knew Vaughn too well to have expected this pitch would be easy. “Why not?”

  “I’m producing my play here, in Trinity Falls.”

  “I know, and I’m proud that you’re using your work to raise money for the community center. But after the fund-raiser, you could produce Mystic Park in other cities and expose your work to a wider audience.”

  Vaughn stacked his dishes with Benita’s, then rose from the table. “Benny, why do you want to show my work to this producer?”

  Was he kidding? Benita followed Vaughn to his dishwasher.

  “Your play is fantastic, the script as well as the music.” Her words sped up with her enthusiasm. “It should be performed in front of as many audiences as possible. Why don’t you want that?”

  “I’m not interested in meeting with producers, pitching my work to investors, touring. I don’t want any of that.” Vaughn stacked the dirty dishes in his dishwasher. “All I ever wanted was to share my work with my community.”

  “But, Vaughn, you could do so much more with your talent.” Benita spread her arms. “I don’t understand why you don’t want to.”

  Vaughn straightened from the dishwasher. “And I don’t understand why what I do want isn’t enough for you.”

  “Because it isn’t.” Benita spun on her bare heel and marched out of the kitchen. “You have too much talent to let it go to waste.”

  Vaughn followed her up the stairs and into his bedroom. “Putting my talents to use in Trinity Falls isn’t a waste. This town is enough for me. It used to be enough for you, too, before you let your mother change your mind.”

  “My mother was right. And, if you’d ever left this town, you’d see that.” Benita kept her back to Vaughn as she pulled on the clothes she’d worn yesterday.

  If she faced him as she took off her clothes, she’d drag him back to bed. Sadly, it was getting late. Vaughn had to get to work and she wanted to accompany her great-aunt to another meeting with Foster.

  “I’ve visited you in Los Angeles several times. If that’s your idea of having more, you’re welcome to keep all of it.” Vaughn’s disgruntled words carried to her from across the room.

  “Is that your final decision?” Benita turned as she adjusted the hem of her T-shirt over the waistband of her capris.

  “Yes, it is.” Vaughn’s tone and expression were stubborn.

  “All right. I won’t say I’m not disappointed, but I promise not to bring it up again.” Benita crossed the room and led Vaughn back downstairs.

  “I appreciate that.” His clipped response came from behind her.

  “Don’t mention it.” Benita waited at the foot of the stairs. She grabbed his shirt front to pull him down for a quick kiss. “Have a good day.”

  “Thanks.” He regarded her warily.

  Benita paused in the living room just long enough to grab her purse, then followed Vaughn out of his townhome to his car. She ignored the suspicious looks he kept sending her way.

  Promising not to bring it up again to Vaughn didn’t prevent her from sending his script to the producer on her own. And, if the producer’s interest in Vaughn’s work finally convinced him to move to L.A. with her, well, that was just a bonus.

  Benita pulled her spring jacket more closely around her shoulders. Outside, the weather was starting to resemble spring. Inside, Foster’s TFU office in Butler Hall was an icebox this Friday morning. Was he trying to ensure that she and Ms. Helen didn’t overstay their welcome? If that was the case, he shouldn’t talk so much.

  “And so, Doctor Gaston, TFU would consider it a great favor if you would reconsider your opposition to a small celebration in recognition of this endowed chair.” Foster wrapped up his speech.

  Benita was incredulous. The older man must have spoken for more than five minutes. Had her great-aunt even listened to all of that?

  “You want me to let you host a celebration in my honor?” Ms. Helen summarized the university vice president’s five-, six-, maybe even seven-minute speech.

  “That’s right.” Foster nodded as though in emphasis.

  “No.” Ms. Helen’s response was swift and short.

  Benita could have told Foster his long-winded speech wasn’t going to persuade her impatient great-aunt.

  Foster’s lips parted in shock. “Doctor Gaston—”

  “Foster, let’s wait until the donor arrives.” Benita checked her Movado watch. “She should be
here any minute now. Aunt Helen and I were early.”

  “She’s here now.” A new voice joined the conversation.

  Benita turned to see an attractive older woman stride confidently into Foster’s office. So this was Dr. Lana Penn, Ms. Helen’s protégé. Why had Benita expected a mousy woman with much less fashion sense? The research scientist was tall and slender with great clothes and even better shoes.

  Lana’s thick cap of dark brown hair was layered around her diamond-shaped face. Her chocolate-colored trench coat hung open over a simple black dress. The pencil straight hemline ended at the chemist’s knees. Her matching black stilettos boosted her height by about three inches. A chunky silver necklace, bracelet, and earrings brightened the dark outfit.

  “Thank you for convening this meeting, Doctor Gooden.” The woman stopped in front of Foster’s desk and extended her hand.

  Foster was already standing. He returned her greeting. “Please call me Foster.”

  “Thank you.” Lana gave the university vice president a gracious smile before turning to Benita. “You must be Benita Hawkins. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Doctor Gaston has told me wonderful things about you over the years.”

  Really? Benita blinked. The first she’d heard of Doctor Lana Penn was when Ms. Helen had mentioned the endowment in the same tone Benita used to schedule a dentist’s appointment. Benita gave her great-aunt a look that assured her they’d discuss this later. Ms. Helen replied with a look that said only if she was in the mood.

  Ms. Helen started to rise from her seat, but Lana approached her chair and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Please don’t get up, Doctor Gaston. It’s great to see you again.” She bent over to give Ms. Helen a hug.

  “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Ms. Helen?” Her tone was querulous, but the elder chemist returned Lana’s embrace with obvious affection.

 

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