The words caused Clarissa to stiffen. Yes, there was much left unsaid and there was nothing left to do about it. Jaz was gone and the woman had told her all that needed to be said. Clarissa’s aunt wanted her to live and to fall in love.
The service ended with prayer and then attendees proceeded toward the grave to drop single white roses to the top of the casket once it had been lowered into the ground. Each walked by to shake Clarissa’s hand. She maintained her politeness but was otherwise unemotional.
Surprise bloomed in her large, coffee-brown eyes though when Elias took her hand. Clarissa’s lips parted to question his presence, but he turned away before she could speak. It was then that she noticed the tall, lovely woman at his side.
“Clarissa David, this is my mother, Lilia Joss,” Eli announced.
Clarissa knew her mouth was most likely hanging open in amazement. She also guessed that the reaction was mirrored in her eyes. Nevertheless, she managed to take Lilia’s outstretched hand and squeeze it.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Joss. Thank you so much for coming.” Clarissa felt a measure of relief then for Lilia’s expression held no traces of disapproval or resentment.
“It’s a pleasure, Ms. David.” Lilia placed her other gloved hand on Clarissa’s arm. “I am sorry for your loss.”
Elias took Clarissa’s hand again once his mother had moved on. He leaned close and Clarissa wanted to melt when his mouth pressed her ear.
“I’ll come see you later?”
She could only nod, unable to resist nudging his mouth.
She had not yet recovered from the shock of meeting Lilia Joss, not to mention the pleasure of Elias’s touch, when the final attendee approached to shake her hand. Clarissa turned with a functional smile in place and was struck by the sight of the childlike face before her eyes.
“Rena Johnson,” the young woman said. “I used to dance for your aunt’s club.”
Clarissa let her confusion show. Since she did all the hiring of the dancers, the waif standing before her was all for scrutiny. Clarissa had never met her before. She knew Jaz would have never put such a girl on staff at any of the clubs. Jaz often teased that, if left up to her, she’d have no dancers since she’d try to talk every girl out of getting into that life. The young woman in Clarissa’s line of sight would have been a prime candidate for such a chat.
“I’m from Philly,” Rena was saying, while wrapping herself tighter in the gray trench she sported. “One night, when the cold and rain finally beat down my guard, Miss J was the only one who let me in when I clawed at her door howling like an idiot!”
Clarissa felt like laughing for the first time that day. “She wasn’t afraid of much.”
“That’s the truth.” Rena nodded at whatever memory was making her smile then. “She was a great lady. I’m sorry she’s gone.”
“Do you still live here in the city?” Clarissa asked.
“Oh, no. Miss J got me out last year.” Rena blinked, the look on her thin oval face revealing that she realized how her words must have sounded.
“Things got pretty hairy before I left.”
Clarissa studied the girl’s face with avid interest. “I don’t think we’ve ever met.”
Rena shook her head suddenly. “And I only had a few clients. Miss J didn’t want any trouble. I, um—” she shrugged in spite of herself “—I don’t exactly look my age. People had questions...”
Clarissa’s brow furrowed. “Well, if you were legal age, the subject was pointless. No one could’ve gotten in trouble and my aunt didn’t back down from much, ’specially if she was in the right.”
“Well, Mr. Cole had a say in it, so...”
“Was he complaining?”
“Friends of his were.”
“Is that why she got you out?”
“Not exactly.”
Clarissa’s frown cleared, but her suspicions were definitely stoked.
“It’s very complicated,” Rena gushed, appearing regretful that she’d shared so much.
“Complicated how?” Clarissa pressed. “Did it have to do with Mr. Cole?”
“Not exactly, but since he was Miss J’s business manager...it was sort of the last straw when he and his friends told her that I was a problem she didn’t need, since there was a client who was getting a little bit, too, um...interested.”
Clarissa steeled herself against swaying on the heels of her black pumps. Jazzy B’s had never had issues with clients misbehaving. For all she knew... Clarissa swallowed around the emotion wadded in her throat. Was this yet another secret Jazmina had kept from her?
“Oh, he wasn’t trying to hurt me or nothin’.” The girl championed her wayward ex-client. “He was just...kind of eager, you know?”
“I got it.” Clarissa twisted her lips while sizing up the issue. “So Jaz was trying to protect you?”
“More for the client’s protection. Him being who he is and all.”
“Being who he is?”
“He’s got a big name, rich, a lot of people know him so...” Rena shrugged and shifted her weight while studying the remaining funeral attendees with increasing apprehension. “I got the feelin’ him and Mr. Cole didn’t like each other too much. Probably why he gave me a hard time. Then there was that other stuff with the money and all.”
“Money?” Clarissa’s thoughts registered the cryptic notebook Rayelle found.
“Cle hit the roof when he found out about that.”
“Cle?”
Rena blinked. “My client, Cleve Echols.”
Chapter 8
Clarissa feared she’d wear a groove in the den floor if she paced it much longer. The revealing conversation with the young ex-stripper had ended before she could extract any more choice info. Waymon had called out to her from across the cemetery grounds. Clarissa turned to wave quickly in his direction and when she looked back to Rena, the girl was gone.
She thought of calling Rayelle and brainstorming over what clues the discussion held. That idea held little appeal just then. Clarissa preferred to mull over the strange conversation alone. After only a short while however, her interest in even that had grown thin.
She felt restless and was considering helping herself to Jazmina’s impressive stash of liquors when the bell rang.
“Saved...” She cast a lingering look toward the walled bar.
Resolutely, Clarissa turned for the foyer. She fixed the belt on the smart black dress she’d worn for the funeral. She hadn’t removed it since returning to the house some three hours earlier.
The conversation with Rena Johnson and her aunt’s well-stocked bar begging to be used were causing her to overheat and she broke into a sprint for the front door. Elias stood on the other side.
“Bad time?” Casually, he reached out to smooth a thumb across the corner of her eye. Concern darkened the evocative blue of his stare as he studied her.
Clarissa leaned into the touch. “When isn’t it?” she murmured.
“Sounds like you need help.” Elias grunted a laugh. “Anything to drink in here?”
Clarissa’s laughter was weak but it was there. “Funny you should ask...” she said.
* * *
Three brandies later, Elias and Clarissa were sharing the long cream-colored sofa in the living room. Silence had rested easy between them as they enjoyed the fine, dark liquor from crystal snifters. The golden light from the lamps at each corner of the room emphasized the cozy charm of the space.
Clarissa’s eyelids felt heavy soon after the first drink and she gave in to letting them settle down more than once. She apologized when it happened after the fifth time but decided Elias was equally to blame.
After their second brandy, he had pulled her legs across his lap and started to rub her calves. Clarissa eased out of he
r drowsy state each time his hands ventured up over her thighs.
“What are we doing, Eli?” she queried in a slow voice.
He smirked. “Right this minute?” When she only responded with a stare, he shrugged and let his head rest back on the sofa.
Clarissa bit her lip while drawing courage to ask her next question. “Why did your mother come to the funeral?”
He shrugged again, and gave a tug to the open collar of his gray shirt. “It’s how she is.”
She shook her head in wonder. “Paying her respects to a woman who disrespected her in the most heinous way?”
“My father disrespected her, too, and yet she slept with him every night he came to her bed.” The corner of his sensually sculpted mouth tilted into a grim smile.
“It all still bothers you,” she noted.
“Not much.” Eli was far from buzzed, but the liquor had relaxed him enough to make it difficult to mask true emotion from his face.
“I think she’ll love him forever,” he confessed of his mother. “They grew up together. I think she still believes the sun rises and sets with the man, despite the hell he took her through.”
“They were married.” Clarissa followed Eli’s lead and let her head rest on the sofa, as well. “They bonded over things you’ll never know about—things your mom’s probably forgotten about even. I guess it takes a lot to stop loving someone.”
“You’ve got lots of experience with that, I guess?” Eli asked without looking her way.
“I’m happy to say that I’ve got none.”
“But some?”
Clarissa lifted her head. “None.” She judged his reaction.
Eli looked over at her then. His extraordinary eyes were narrowed and accusing. “No need to lie.” The accusation in his stunning blues turned incredulous. “How is that possible?”
She put her head down again. “Aunt J kept me very busy.”
“You didn’t spend your entire life working for the woman!” He laughed, and then tilted his head inquisitively. “What about college? High school?”
“Jaz stressed focusing on my grades.”
“What’d your parents stress?”
Clarissa’s mouth curved downward as her lovely face adopted a shadow. “My mother died giving birth to me. My father raised me but I spent every summer with Jaz. Every summer of my life.”
“Jesus...Clarissa, you’ve never lived.”
She dismissed his revelation with a wave. “I can promise you that I’ve lived a lot.”
“So you’ve had your share of men but none serious enough to be long lasting or to fall in love with?” he surmised, yet tensed inwardly at the mere possibility of another man touching her. He didn’t know what to make of such a reaction to a time before either knew the other existed. Instead, he set his thoughts on Jazmina Beaumont and discovered he had another reason to despise the woman. She’d made a workhorse of her own niece, forcing Clarissa to walk the straight and narrow while she delighted in her own wild existence....
Clarissa continued to consider Elias’s demeanor. The set to his striking profile had her very curious. When his bright gaze shifted her way, she repeated her question.
“What are we doing, Eli?” She pressed her lips together, silently willing his answer.
“I can’t tell you what we’re doing, Clari,” he said finally, shortening her name while watching his fingertips tap out a rhythm across the top of her foot. “All that I can tell you is, when I’m with you, I don’t have another damn thing on my mind. When you’re not with me, the only thing on my mind is you. I don’t know what that means, but I know I like it.” He released his hold on her calf for one across her wrist. Without giving her the chance to think, he lifted her over to straddle his lap. The scene turned explosive in the time frame of a few seconds.
“Stop me,” he said when they were in the depths of a full-blown, wet and lusty kiss.
“Are you serious?” she gasped and cried out when he laid her down on the sofa.
“You don’t know me, Clarissa.” His deep voice seemed to resonate on an impossibly lower level. “I can be moody and possessive,” he cautioned as his mouth explored the length of her still-clothed body. “Ruthless if that’s what it takes to get my way.”
“No need to be ruthless.” She sighed, subtly arching each time his mouth hit a new spot. “You can have your way.” Her mind was numb with wanting him.
Elias kissed her to shut her up then. Silently, he told himself that she had no idea what she was saying to him. He’d thought of little else besides having “his way” with her since he’d seen her. Hell, he’d come there that night with those very thoughts at the front of his mind, hadn’t he? The things he wanted to do with her would be most taxing on her lovely body if she gave him free rein. Most taxing and most enjoyable.
“Stop me, Clarissa....”
“No....” She was wriggling out of the blouse-styled bodice of the dress.
The movement of her plump almond-brown breasts, clad in the lacy black of her bra, dissolved Eli’s restraint. Clarissa may have been disturbed by the power of his touch if she didn’t want him so badly.
Her heart pounded something fierce in her ears as he stripped her of everything else she wore. On the wide sofa, he subjected her to an intense session of foreplay.
Clarissa felt she was outside herself when the sound of her voice touched her ears. She was apologizing to Eli when his actions brought her to a sudden climax.
“Don’t worry about it,” he spoke in the process of tongue-kissing her neck. “You’re about to make it up to me,” he promised her.
He raised above her, removing his shirt to reveal an awesomely chiseled chest. Unzipping his pants, he removed condoms from his pocket and freed himself from silver-gray boxers. Testosterone zipped through his veins along with pulsing blood. He couldn’t think straight and needed to be inside her quickly and deeply.
He criticized himself for rushing. He vowed to make it up to her. He’d spend all night making it up to her. He claimed her in one swift plunging thrust and went ice cold when her shriek pierced his ears.
Eli hissed a curse that bordered on pleasure and devastation. The truth of what had just happened registered in his mind but it was shrouded in an erotic mist that he was content with. He tried to speak her name but could scarcely manage sound.
“Don’t—don’t stop,” she said in a manner that was just as strained.
Elias chose to listen to her and ignore the anguish laced in her expression. It wasn’t a difficult choice to make considering that he was already painfully aroused for her. He moved slightly and lost the ability to keep his head lifted. Sensation was shuddering through him as his sex invaded more of her tightness.
He could tell that she was tense from the pain and he set out to quickly dispel that. Eli feared she’d draw blood from her lip, she was clenching it just that tightly. Her hands were clenched, as well, balled against the broad wall of his muscle packed chest.
Clarissa hadn’t anticipated the pain. She’d lost herself in the fantasy of the ways that a man, with a body like Elias Joss’s, could usher her into a delight she’d denied herself for far too long.
The pain was still at its peak, though below the surface of that pain, she could feel another kind of throb. One that was heavy, intense and exquisite. Elias had lowered his head to her chest. His nose outlined the curve of one breast, before his tongue charted a similar path about her nipple.
Discomfort, though a bit less intense, stemmed from the junction of her thighs when he pressed his wide hands against them and slightly lifted himself above her. Keeping her in place on the sofa, Elias moved with a deft expertise which beckoned the erotic throb to rise from below the surface of her pain. The pleasure surged like a potent blast. At first, Clarissa could only snuggle deeper into the sofa cush
ions as her lips parted for a moan that had yet to sound.
Gradually, her hands uncurled from clenched fists. She began to rake her nails ever-so-lightly across taut muscles that flexed beneath the flawless caramel tone of his skin.
Clarissa bit her lip again just as the moan brought sound into the quiet room. Elias was reluctant to abandon the nipple he’d suckled into a hard, glistening peak but he wanted to watch her taking what he gave her.
His hypnotic ocean-blue stare was slitted as he took delight in her beauty. The pout of her full lips had him especially captivated. He couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel in comparison to the part of her anatomy he was blessed to be exploring.
The mere thought of it all caused his erection to stiffen anew, but Elias willed himself against erupting. The least he could do was to ensure that her pleasure equaled or surpassed his own. Arrogance curved his mouth into a smirk. It would take quite a lot for her pleasure to surpass his own. He didn’t believe anything else could rival the feel of being inside her.
Soft whimpering crept from Clarissa’s mouth as her pleasure intensified. She couldn’t even recall that pain had ever been a part of it. Instinctively, her hips rotated and lifted beneath Eli’s. The move stirred the most delicious reaction. Her body was in tune to the rhythm he stoked with the length and thickness of his shaft. The organ filled and stretched her to capacity. Her breathing started to resemble pants and every part of her trembled.
Eli’s mouth grazed the line of her collarbone and Clarissa marveled in response to her sensitivity to his touch. Again, she bit her lip, whimpering when the satiny petals guarding her sex tensed sweetly around him.
Eli tightened his grip on her thigh while adding speed to his thrusts. “Clarissa...” he groaned into her neck and gave himself over to the effect she had on him. His big frame tensed and then shuddered as he came hard. Gripping her tightly, he muttered a lurid, complimentary curse in reference to her curves filling his palms.
Their combined breathing filled the room. Clarissa wanted to turn her face into Eli’s neck and absorb the fantastic smell of his cologne but she dared not move. She relished his arms about her and she didn’t want that feeling to end.
Provocative Territory Page 8
