Flamingo Place (Mills & Boon Kimani) (14 page)

And she was kissing him back with the same amount of intensity, letting their tongues meet and meld. The shrill cries of birds echoed in the background and wildlife called to each other in an intricate mating dance. The clasp that held the top of her bathing suit was only inches from his itching fingers. No, better not go there. But she was pressing into him and he felt her taut nipples against his chest. And, God it was tempting.

His
mother…well, God only knew where she was. It was thoughts of her that kept him grounded and in control.

Tre’s arms slid around Jen, his palm kneading the supple flesh of her back. Her skin was warmed by the sun and taut under his hand. Tre kissed her again, and then with every ounce of restraint he could muster put her away from him

“What—”

“We need to get back.”

No, it was he who needed to get back and get himself in check. He didn’t want to imagine what was going on in her head as he took her hand and they retraced their steps, heading back toward Marva.

His mother was still sprawled out on her lounger and looked like she had no intention of moving anytime soon. Thank God!

“I’ll come by later,” Tre whispered, “to finish what I started. Think you’ll be home?”

“I’ll be home,” Jen answered.

But there was a look in her eye he wasn’t sure how to interpret.

She’d better be home or he’d go clear out of his mind.

J
en was just
drifting off to sleep when she heard a sound at her front door. Faint at first, then a rapid staccato. Too much sun and frolicking in the ocean that day had left her feeling lethargic and sleepy.

It had been a great day and she’d enjoyed every moment of being with Tre and Marva. She’d seen that other side of Tre that she liked, the warm and caring side, considerate of his mother’s feelings, and catering to their every need.

Jen had returned slightly sunburned. Her skin had a copper glow to it and her cheeks and shoulders
were burned. She’d been full of chicken salad and avocado sandwiches. They’d washed them down with sweet tea then sampled the excellent white wine she’d brought along. Mangos and melons had been the fruit of choice for dessert.

And they’d talked and talked about their philosophies on life. Jen had finally concluded that the brash, flip loudmouth D’Dawg personality was just all an act. And she’d pretty much forgiven him for all the mean things he’d said about
Dear Jenna.

During their alone time, Tre hadn’t once mentioned Café Singles or
Dear Jenna
responding to his ad. Perhaps he just hadn’t taken the response seriously. He had to know
Dear Jenna
was yanking his chain big-time. The only question was would he retaliate?

Another insistent rap, then an inquiry. “Jen, are you up?”

This time Jen’s eyes flew wide open. She hadn’t been dreaming. Tre had mentioned something about stopping by later to finish what they had started. Now he was here to make good on his promise. She was a big girl, quite capable of making her own decisions. She knew what the consequences would be if they made the leap from next-door neighbors to lovers. What she needed to do was go into this with her eyes wide open but having no expectations.

Jen
flipped off the covers, quickly ran a comb through her hair and found the wrapper she’d had difficulty finding the last time around.

“Hi,” she greeted, opening the door just wide enough to stick her head out.

“I woke you. I’m sorry.”

Trying to wipe the sleep away, she swiped at her eyes. “Not really.”

“I’ll let you get back to bed then.”

“No, no. It’s all right. I’m up. Come in.”

She stood aside, making room for him to enter.

He was wearing a track suit that emphasized his arm and leg muscles. Sculptured and fit were what came to mind. You could tell he worked out. Jen had noticed that earlier when Tre had emerged from the boat’s cuddy cabin wearing his swim trunks. He was now standing awkwardly in the middle of her living room.

“What time is it, anyway?” Jen asked, the watch she normally wore, left on the nightstand.

“A little after nine. I waited until Mother passed out before heading over.”

They both knew why he’d waited for Marva to fall asleep and why he was there.

“How about a glass of wine, unless you’d prefer something else?” Jen asked.

“I’ll
take beer if you have it. Doesn’t much matter the brand.”

Jen got him his beer, poured herself a glass of wine and got nuts to snack on. When she returned, Tre was standing on the balcony looking down at the bay. She set down their drinks and the bowl of nuts on the table. The minute she straightened, Tre placed an arm around her shoulders.

“Enjoy yourself today?”

“Yes, thank you. Your boat is lovely. The company was great as well.”

“My mother thinks you’re special. In case you haven’t noticed she’s sort of a difficult lady.”

“I think she’s special.”

Tre’s thumb made circular patterns on her shoulders. His lips grazed her jawline. “I want to make love to you, baby. It’s all I can think of. It’s all that fills my head. I’ve wanted to do that from the very first time I’d laid eyes on you.”

Caution. Proceed carefully. He was feeding her a line. What the hell, just don’t take him too seriously and just go with the flow. She was a grown adult and there was nothing to stop her from having a fling. There might be consequences considering they lived right next door, but for tonight she was willing to live in the moment.

“You
can pretty much have any woman you want,” Jen countered. “You’re considered a celebrity. Women are at your beck and call. Your apartment has a revolving door. Most leave there pretty unhappy. What’s with that?”

“I’m not looking for a quick hit. Those days are over with. And quite frankly, I’m not crazy about being pursued.”

His answer surprised her. She would have thought he’d eat up all the attention.

“What qualifies as not a quick hit?” she quizzed.

She’d just made it sound as if she was interrogating him. That should scare him off and send him running for home.

“I’m looking for a relationship,” he came back with. “Full blown with all the romantic trimmings. I want to be with someone I have something in common with. She’s got to be adventurous, flexible and secure. Just looking at her should make my mouth go dry.”

“I would never have thought you were romantic.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Amen.”

Now he was rubbing her shoulders and leaning over to kiss her right on the lips. Jen was on sensory overload and digesting everything he’d just told
her—the sight, manly smell and timbre of his voice literally made her toes curl. Soon she was clinging to him and kissing him back with a fierce passion that he’d aroused.

The hastily thrown-on wrapper was pooled at her feet. The balmy ocean breeze ruffled the T-shirt she’d worn to bed and cooled her heated cheeks. She was wired, every nerve ending alive.

Tre had the material of her shirt bunched in one hand. The other roamed her butt, cupping it slightly and squeezing. He’d pressed her hard against him and she could feel his growing erection.

Jen stood on tiptoe, kissing him back, delighting in the sensations his kiss evoked. She loved the feel and touch of him. The tingle that had started at her toes had worked its way up. Every nerve was alive and her center throbbed. Her breasts felt heavy, as if they would explode.

“Time to take this inside, baby,” Tre suggested, putting her away from him.

Jen’s breaths came in quick little bursts. She linked her fingers through Tre’s and allowed him to lead her inside. Since their apartments basically had the same layout, he was up the hallway in a flash and inside her bedroom. Luckily she’d tidied up, just in case he followed through on his promise.

Tre
was already kicking off his track pants. She tried not to stare at his strong muscular legs and the crisp dark hairs curling over them. When he unzipped the suit jacket, she caught a glimpse of a broad ebony chest and sculptured pectorals and a nest of dark hair.

Tre’s smile warmed her. He took a long stride, closing the distance between them.

“You need help with that,” he said, tugging the T-shirt over her head. When Jen stood in only her bikini panties, his hot gaze swept her body. He moistened a finger in his mouth and reached over to outline a nipple. She jumped.

Tre’s other hand was already on her breast, kneading the soft flesh beneath his heated palm. She was already close to losing it. Her throbbing body wanted every inch of him. Jen put it down to being too long without a man; not that Anderson had been anything special in the sack, though he thought he was.

Tre stopped and was now rifling through the pocket of his discarded pants. He palmed an object and peeled off his underpants with his other hand, then he climbed under the covers.

“Join me, baby,” he urged. “Let me love you.”

“Shouldn’t we talk about protection?”

“Taken care of.” He opened his palm and showed her the gold foil package.

An
experienced man. The alarm bells went off. Ignoring them, Jen slid under the covers. Tre’s mouth immediately went to work loving her. His hands roamed all her moist places, delving into every crevice and then some. She was loving him back with her hands and mouth, laving him, and using her fingers to do her own intimate exploring.

His “Yes, baby, yes,” gave her encouragement to be even more daring. They switched positions, alternating between pleasuring each other. Finally, Tre rolled her over on her chest and covered her body with his. Jen felt his coarse chest hairs graze her back as he ground into her. She felt his soft kisses on the sides of her neck and when he stopped to shield himself she felt abandoned. Then he was entering her with long, slow strokes which quickly built in intensity, and he was nibbling on her flesh and nipping her while making seductive heartfelt grunts.

Tre’s ankles locked around hers. His hands slid under her body, one on her breast the other on her throbbing core. He’d filled her up and overwhelmed her with sensations. She was OD’ing on the sounds and smell of him, totally enjoying the feelings of wild abandonment and of going with the flow.

Jen hadn’t expected Tre to be this tender or this giving. And she certainly did not expect to feel so uninhibited
with a man that she had no relationship with to speak of, and probably would never have, once he found out she was
Dear Jenna.

The first spasm sent her spiraling over the edge, and another one quickly followed. She could barely hold on or wait for him to come with her. He was right there as she slipped into that place where nothing else mattered except him and her. He was there with her, matching her gasp for gasp and taking her with him to the land of sensations.

“We are…good…together,” he gasped.

“No, we’re great.”

She meant it. They complemented each other, the perfect sex mates.

At least for tonight.

Marva’s eyes were on the bedside clock again. Midnight had come and gone and still no sign of Tre. One o’clock rolled around and he still hadn’t returned. She wasn’t worried.

Bless that boy, he’d snuck out when he thought she was asleep. She’d gotten a certain satisfaction from knowing he was heading for 5C’s and she fully approved. Jen St. George was just what her restless son needed. The woman had a good head on her shoulders and wasn’t one of those shallow bimbettes with nothing to say. She would settle Tre down.

Therefore
Marva was even more delighted that her little ruse worked. Only a fool wouldn’t notice Tre was crazy about that girl and she was crazy about him. It didn’t take ESP to figure out what the two of them were up to. But both were consenting adults and any doubts about her son’s sexuality had been put to rest.

She gave the clock another quick glance and decided to make good use of Tre’s absence. Tre had lent her his laptop, supposedly to keep her entertained and out of his hair. He’d asked, no, ordered her to cancel his membership on Café Singles.

Marva booted up the computer and accessed the e-mail address she’d set up so candidates could reply to her ad. She scanned the e-mails just in case someone wonderful had replied. Much as she liked Jen, nothing in this world was guaranteed, and as her own mother used to say, every woman should have a backup man.

Personally she thought it was stupid of Tre not to give at least a look at some of the women who’d answered. The Internet provided a good way to screen out candidates and save both them and you a lot of heartache.

Marva was almost through reading the e-mails and scrutinizing the photos when the subject line of
one caught her eye. “Look Me Up For Advice,” sure was different. It was catchy. The girl had a sense of humor.

But would the woman’s wit match the accompanying photo? Marva knew her son well enough to know that Tre liked his ladies well-groomed and classy; at least she thought so, based on the two he’d brought home. She downloaded the photo and waited for the picture to pop up.

It was a professional picture and a little outdated. She could swear she’d seen it before. No one wore those pinstriped double-breasted suits these days unless they were in banking; even the lawyers had eased up. Now if the woman ditched the silly glasses she wouldn’t be half bad. It bothered her she couldn’t immediately place the face. She never ever forgot a face. Maybe she was getting old.

“What are you doing, Mother?” Tre’s voice came out of nowhere.

One of Marva’s hands immediately flew to her chest, the other tried to log off quickly. Tre, in anticipation of her move, had a firm hold on her wrist.

“Oh, no you don’t.” He scanned the screen and looked at her with flashing eyes. Her boy had always had a bad temper. Now she prayed she wouldn’t be on the receiving end. It usually surfaced when he
perceived an injustice was being done. Tre had since worked to rein in that temper, even taking anger management classes after he’d punched out a man for trying to steal an old lady’s pocketbook. In the scuffle he’d actually broken the guy’s nose.

“You told me you canceled this membership, Mother.”

“I was going to.”

Tre glanced at the monitor again and frowned. “What’s this photo of Dear Jenna doing up? Tell me you’re not meddling, Mother.”

Suddenly it hit her. No wonder she knew that face. She’d seen it earlier, only a friendlier version. But the woman had been more casually attired so she’d come across as less stiff.

Marva looked at Tre. Poor sod. He didn’t have a clue. Dear Jenna and Jen in 5C were one and the same. Jen had just sent him the message she was interested.

Should she leave the big doofus to figure it out himself? Or should she tell him? Men could be so dumb at times.