The Bridal Candidate 1 (Heart Connections)

by Linda Verji

  Her taste was magnificent; like sugar, spice and pineapple. And it drove him crazy. He had an erection harder than he'd had since he was fifteen. It pulsed against the bed, begged him to take her now when she was so pliant, so ready - but he leashed his hunger intent on satisfying hers. He moved his hand along the inside of her thighs to her core, letting it play the parts of her that his tongue couldn't reach.

  And that's when she broke

  "Damián. Damián. Damián…." she cried again and again and again, and her sweet body curled toward him, convulsing with pleasure.

  "That's it sweetheart," he coaxed and commanded her. "Let go."

  From under his lashes, he watched pleasure wash across her features, savored it. His ego puffed up with each delicious cry she gave, and his shaft hardened even more, letting him know that it was time. While she was still climbing down from her release, he climbed off the bed and stripped his off clothes.

  Soon he was above her again, arms braced and ready to plunge. "Can I?"

  Her response was to circle his rigid cock with her nimble fingers and guide him into her. Heaven. She was so warm, so moist, so ready, and the bloated crown of his cock sunk into her easily.

  "Aiko." He let out a low guttural moan as he nudged forward. He felt her tight walls give and expand to accommodate him; felt her warm wetness engulf him. Damián could hardly breathe, lost in the sheer eroticism of the moment and struggling not to come.

  "Aah! Aah. " Her whimpers brushed against his ear, chipping away at his self control until it felt like he'd explode if he didn't have her completely. So he stroked forward, hard. "Oh - my - Damián."

  Her cries stoked him, drove him to start a rhythm as old as time. He stretched her, filled her, pushed in until he was impaled inside her, balls deep. Then he withdrew. And did it again. She met his every stroke with an enchanting lift of her hips and squeeze of her inner muscles. It sent electric currents pulsing through his body and little beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

  "Yes. Yes. Yes," she moaned as her hands slid from his shoulders and clenched on his ass.

  Jesus. She was going to kill him.

  It felt like every muscle in his body was vibrating yet taut as he thrust into her. His skin prickled almost painfully as his every nerve came alive. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat and his blood rushing in his ears as his senses urged him to possess her completely. His balls tightened as his seed began to boil.

  "Fuck," he growled as he gripped her buttocks, tilting her upwards so he could push in deeper, feel every inch of her snugness massage his cock. Forward. Backwards. Long. Strong. They moved in perfect harmony. He could feel her body as if it was his own, throbbing, convulsing, trembling. Attuned to her every cry, every move, and every breath, Damián received her message with abject relief.

  He could let go now.

  The white-knuckled grip he had on himself melted and he let himself slide into frenzied, short thrusts. Even as she plunged into her release, she still responded to his frantic rhythm; her hands skating all over his body, angling her hips, taking him in deeper, tightening around him.

  "Argh!" His reigns snapped, his world shattered and flew headfirst into the inferno. Suddenly he was whirling in heat and flames, imploding, exploding. He fastened his lips to hers, his tongue sliding deep into her mouth as with one last thrust he tucked himself deep into her pussy and erupted.

  Cumming had never felt this good. The sensations that rippled through his body were so sharp they cut, so bright they blinded. But more than just physical pleasure, there was also emotional satisfaction. Being with Aiko, having her, sent warm tendrils twining about his heart.

  Long after the stars had cleared from his vision and his breath was no longer rugged, he stayed in her bed, holding her half over him and listening to her gentle breathing. By now he was usually gone - yet tonight he was unable to let go of her.

  "I should go," he said, more to himself than to her.

  "Yeah," she agreed.

  But neither of them made a move to separate. If anything, she snuggled deeper against his body and he tightened his arm over her back, gathering her closer and holding her to his heart. This was where she was supposed to be; in his arms. All night. Every night.

  She's getting too close.

  The thought drifted through his mind, but he let it go, let it fade. Yes, he liked holding her in his arms but that didn’t mean his heart and emotions were engaged. He was just enjoying the fruits of their contract - immensely.

  It took a long time, but she was the one who murmured, "You should go. One of the kids might wake up in the middle of the night looking for us."

  She was right, of course. But that didn't make it any easier to leave her warmth, her comfort, her.

  With reluctance that surprised even him, Damián grudgingly lifted from the bed and dressed. Once dressed, he bent down to indulge his senses and hers in one last kiss before saying, "Goodnight."

  "Goodnight." Her soft words followed him out of the room.

  CHAPTER 19

  The next day at work, Damián was unable to focus on his structural drawings for the surveillance drone he was designing for the military. His mind kept wandering to Aiko, wondering how her day was going, whether she was thinking of him. His preoccupation with her annoyed him, but as much as it did he couldn't dispel it.

  What he needed to do was immerse himself in something it couldn't wander away from. So he called his team in for a brainstorming session. They spent a grueling three hours coming up with concepts for new aero-technologies and ways to pitch them to their investors. But even that wasn't enough to erase his fiancée from his thoughts. By the time he strolled back to his office, she was firmly back in his mind.

  Finally, he just gave in.

  What was the harm in calling her to find out how her day was going? She picked up on the first ring.

  "Damián?" She sounded as surprised to hear him calling her as he was to find himself calling her. Panic infusing her voice, she asked, "Is something wrong? Has something happened to Zoe."

  "No. No. Nothing's wrong," he reassured quickly. "I just wanted-" He stopped speaking as it hit him that saying he was just checking up on her was… weird. They didn't have that kind of relationship. Now, he felt stupid for even calling her

  "You just wanted…?" she prodded.

  "… to invite you for lunch." The offer flew from his lips before he could think about it. He didn't even know where it'd come from. But going with it, he rushed on with, "I wanted us to strategize about the next steps with Zoe."

  "Oh!"

  She was quiet for so long, that he said, "If you have any other plans we can-"

  "No, no," she forestalled him. "Lunch is fine. I was just checking my schedule to see how long I can stay. Give me just… a… minute." He heard paper rustling in the background, then she said, "Okay, I have a two-thirty. If I leave right now that should give us about an hour and a half. Where do you want us to meet?"

  A giddy wave of pleasure swept through him and he found himself smiling as he asked, "Chez Amelia's? It's within walking distance of your office so you won't be late for your meeting."

  "That restaurant next to the Moroccan embassy?"

  "Yeah."

  She gasped. "Don't we need like a two-years in advance reservation and an account in Switzerland to eat there?"

  Damián laughed. "Don't worry about it, I know the owner and my bank account is fine."

  "Hmm." She snorted. "Damián, if I have to wash dishes…"

  Her threat hanging in the air, she ended the call. His grin wide, Damián called the restaurant to let them know he was on his way before he left with the office. He drove so fast that by the time he got to Chez Amelia, Aiko was also walking through the gates.

  He hooted to draw her attention to him. She whirled around at the sound, and when she saw him a smile creased her face. That smile shot straight to his heart warming it. She waited for him to park his car among the other luxury vehicles, an
d emerge from it.

  As he walked toward her, he drank her in; from her beaming smile, to the black, snug, knee-length dress that clung to her sensuous curves, down to the silver open-toe heels, and back up to her beautiful smile. She looked beyond amazing.

  "Don't you look fantastic," he said as he reached her.

  "So do you," she complimented.

  As she leaned forward to peck his cheek, her body brushed against his and her sweet, vanilla scent seeped into his sense; teasing them. He almost groaned aloud when she eased away from him, almost dragged her back. It took everything in him to leash his desire for her.

  He didn't even realize he was staring at her until she asked, "What?"

  That quickly shook him out of his daze perusal of her. Smiling he said, "Nothing." Stepping beside her, he set his palm on her lower back and said, "Come on. Let's go in."

  They strolled in silence and at a leisurely pace toward the restaurant. From the outside, Chez Amelia looked like someone's house; which it had been. Jean Martin, the owner, had purchased the enormous estate, complete with bungalow, from an expatriate couple and converted it into one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city.

  The maître d' met them at the foyer. "Mr. Colter, how pleasant to see you."

  "How are you, Shore?" Damián greeted the tall, slender suited man.

  "I'm fine, sir." Shore beamed. "It's been a while since we last saw you."

  "Business. Business," Damián returned. "I don't know if Belinda told you, but I called a few minutes ago to let her know I was on my way."

  "We always have a table for you." The maître d' led them through an archway and into the restaurant's main floor where cool air, soft music and the murmur of the thin lunchtime crowd greeted them. "Would you like a table inside or outside?"

  Damián turned to Aiko. "Inside or outside?"

  "Mm." She weighed their options, glancing past the glass double doors to the tables set on the terrace, then shrugged. "Outside."

  Shore showed them to a table at the furthest corner of the terrace and seated them before wandering off.

  "This is nice," Aiko complimented as she took in their surroundings. Chez Amelia's backyard was as calming as it was beautiful. Manicured gardens interspersed with trees as old as the house holding hanging bird feeders. The restaurant even had its own pond.

  "It is," Damián agreed whilst taking the proffered menu from the maître d's hand. "Jean Martin did a great job with this place."

  Aiko's eyebrows arched. "Jean Martin?"

  "The owner," he explained.

  For the next few minutes they were silent, scanning through the menu. Being familiar with the dishes in the restaurant, Damián made his choice fairly quickly.

  "There's so much to choose from and I'm struggling." She looked up from her menu. "What do you suggest?"

  "Hmm, try the duck breast with pomegranate," he encouraged. "It's one of the restaurant's specialties and you won't regret it."

  Aiko studied the menu again then asked, "What are you having?"

  "The duck," he said without hesitation.

  "Then the duck it is." She closed the menu.

  "Are you ready to order?" the maître d' asked when he reappeared at their table. Jotting down their choice of meal, he asked, "Will you have wine with that?"

  "No." Aiko shook her head. "Just a glass of fresh orange juice, please."

  "Just water for me," Damián said. "Thank you."

  With an almost imperceptible nod, the maître d' gathered up the menus then glided silently away.

  As they waited for their food, Damián couldn't help but wonder what he was doing here with her. Lunch was okay; after all they would be married for at least six years - they'd be eating together a lot. But a lunch just because he missed her was unsettling.

  He wasn't supposed to miss her. Business partners weren't supposed to miss each other. Missing her implied that he had feelings for her beyond what their contract called for - and he didn't. He couldn't afford to. Not after everything her kind had put him through. Yet, there was no explaining the yearning that filled him each time he thought of her.

  "Damián?" Aiko cut into his troubled thoughts. Studying him closely, she asked, "Are you okay?"

  "I'm okay," he returned quickly, eager to hide his internal confusion from her. Flashing her a smile, he asked, "So how was work today?"

  "So. So." She shrugged. "Hooked a few people up."

  "Really?" he asked. "Who did you hook up?"

  Her head reared backwards. "I can’t tell you that."

  "Why?"

  She gave him a deadpan, "Doctor-patient confidentiality."

  He threw his head back and laughed. "You're not a doctor, Aiko."

  "That's Dr. Vaughn to you," she corrected, her eyes dancing with amusement. "I'm a doctor of the heart."

  "Okay, Dr. Vaughn, you win." He raised his hands in mock defeat, which drew a giggle from her. When her laughter died down he asked, "Did you always want to be a matchmaker?"

  "Not really." She paused when the maître d' brought their drinks but as soon as he was gone, she continued, "I actually wanted to be a lawyer."

  "A lawyer?" He tried to imagine her as a steel -eyed, tight-lipped lawyer in a power-suit heading the defense team for some rich Pharmaceutical company. But he couldn't see it. She was just too warm and caring. "Really?"

  "Yeah really." Her hazel eyes twinkled at him. "I had it all planned out. Go to law school, graduate top of my school, have all the big firms fighting for me - then refuse all their offers and open my small law-firm that catered only to the little people."

  Ah! That made more sense. Sipping his water, he said, "That was quite a plan you had. What happened?"

  "College. Tree-hugger friends. A course in Philosophy." She rolled her eyes. "Somehow I was suckered into joining the army instead."

  "Do you regret going into the military?"

  "No. I don't. I mean it was the furthest thing from glamorous or cushy, and it took a lot of hard-work and discipline. But I actually liked it and I learned a lot." Her eyes shadowed as she added, "I just regret how I got out."

  Before he could question what she meant by that, Jean Martin appeared beside their table.

  "Bonjour, Damián," the short, portly Frenchman boomed as he grabbed Damián's hand. "I heard you were out here. Why didn't you come and say hello?"

  "I figured you were busy," Damián smiled. "And I have a guest. Aiko, this is Jean Martin, the owner and head-chef of Chez Amelia. Jean Martin, this is Aiko."

  Jean Martin's cheerful eyes lit up. "It is nice to meet you."

  Jean Martin stayed awhile for some small talk, and only left when the maître d' brought their meal. Once Damián and Aiko were alone again, she asked, "You and Jean Martin seem to know each other well."

  He nodded as he cut into his duck. "We've known each other for quite a while. We actually worked in the same restaurant - a long time ago."

  "What?" Aiko's jaw dropped. "You? You worked in a restaurant?"

  He laughed. "Why do you look so surprised?"

  "You just don't look like the type to work in a restaurant." She stared at him in wide-eyed surprise. "You're rich."

  "Why? Aiko Vaughn, how elitist of you." Damián shook his head and tsked. "So rich people don't need to work?"

  She kissed her teeth. "You know what I mean."

  He was tempted to tease her some more, but instead he explained, "I took a year between high school and college to backpack around Europe. My father and I weren't really seeing eye to eye at that time since he wanted to groom me for a career in politics. I wasn't really interested in his credit cards because they came with too many strings attached, and he was holding my trust fund hostage so I could do what he wanted. Because I didn't have any money to meet my needs and refused to fall for my father's strong-arming tactics, I had to take a few odd jobs. Jean Martin and I met in Italy; I was a busboy in a little trattoria in Florence, and he was a sous chef at the same place… Look, it's a long sto
ry. Are you sure you want to hear this?"

  "Yes, please." She looked genuinely interested. "Frankly, I'm fascinated."

  "By what?"

  "You," she said simply. "I've never met a busboy who became an aerospace engineer."

  Encouraged by her interest he gave her the bare bones of the story. "Even back then Jean Martin was remarkably talented in the kitchen. The guy could bake a cake with a hot plate. When I came back to the USA we stayed in touch - then later when he wanted to start his own restaurant, I invested in it. Et voilà, here we are."

  Stabbing at her fingerling potatoes she asked, "So you own Chez Amelia's?"

  "Well, yes and no." He bit into his duck, chewed and swallowed, then said, "I have some equity in the Chez Amelia's Group of restaurants, but Jean Martin has the controlling shares. I'm more like a silent investor."

  "How many restaurants are there?" Aiko queried.

  He gave her the number, the cities as well as describing his favorite ones. Somehow that conversation muted into discussions of how he'd gotten into aero-engineering. Then to the languages he spoke- English, Spanish, Italian and some French -, the languages she spoke - barely any English, she'd joked. That had led to him offering to teach her some Spanish; which had in turn led to an impromptu Spanish lesson. Soon they were both laughing at how absolutely hopeless she was.

  Talking to her was so easy and comfortable. Given a chance, he would've continued it indefinitely. His heart sunk when two fifteen arrived and she reminded him that she needed to go back to work.

  "Thank you for the lovely lunch," she said when he dropped her off at her office. Smiling, she added, "Though I don't know how I'm going to stay awake with how full I am."

  He laughed then said, "I had a great time too."

  "Okay, I'll see you in the evening." She started to open the door but before she could leave, he cupped the back of her neck, steered her closer to him and kissed her.

  It was a brief kiss; tender and soft but his hunger reared up quickly; were they somewhere different he would've deepened the kiss. He ended it with a soft kiss and a murmur, "I'll see you in the evening."

  Once she left the car, he waited for her to enter the building before he drove off. Despite the frustration of not being able to get more than a kiss, a small smile played on his lips. He felt lighter, euphoric, like he was floating on a cloud… as if she'd spiked his water while he wasn't looking. And he was happy.