Shayla's Story (The Mathews/Clemmins Family Series) (13 page)

She found the sweet
scent of his breath intoxicating and leaned in for a kiss.

John hesitated,
glimpsing at their crowded surroundings. His lashes etched a jagged shadow against
his cheek. “Are you sure?”

She couldn’t hear
the music over her heartbeat drumming in her ears. She dropped her hands to his
hips, hooking her fingers through his belt loops. Shayla arched forward until
their bodies molded perfectly together, giving him all the answer he needed.

Slowly, lazily, John
lowered his mouth to hers, never breaking eye contact. His strong fingers coasted
over the edge of her neckline with the ease of a feather catching in the wind.
He pressed soft kisses filled with utter sweetness to one lip then the other.

She whimpered in
delight, catching his lower lip gently between her teeth.

He dragged the kiss
to the corner of her eye and beyond to her temple. Suppressed hunger was caged
under the layers of his fine clothing like a thoroughbred waiting to break out
the gate at the Kentucky Derby. Sounds of need filled his heavy breath, holding
back the urgency to take her mouth with ravenous kisses.

Stealing her away
from the reception, John led her through a small iron gate at the cliffs edge. The
moonbeams reflecting off the water below seemed to follow their every turn,
giving illumination to the narrow concrete path. Her heel skidded on the smooth
round rocks embedded in the concrete, but he clutched her firmly beneath the
ribs. A sense of security washed over her as she held on to the back of his
hand
. This
man would never let her
fall. John would always be there to protect her.

They hastily made
their way to the end of the short winding trail etched into the natural
switchback of the cliff. Luscious anticipation churned in her as he slowly
twirled her around, stalking her with his lust-filled stare.

John backed her
against the smooth pumice stone wall, still holding warmth from the afternoon sun.
His constrained demeanor lost to desire in a frantic ravishing of lips, teeth
and tongue. “Damn, woman. You are driving me crazy.”

Shayla yielded to his
demands, welcoming his rich, drugging kisses, both shaking, absorbed in
ravenous need. His arm fell behind her, gripping tight to the small of her
back. She moaned into his mouth with a soft murmur, reacting with needs of her
own. Clinging to his neck, she tilted her hips forward, cradling his erection in
a rhythmic motion
.

Reaching beneath the
thin material supporting her breasts, he pulled, freeing the pale skin from the
confines of her dress. The cool night air worked in sequence with his fingers,
tipping the delicate pink blossoms into tight buds. She arched, lifting her
torso and he bent, sucking the tender peaks into his wet, searing mouth. With
each tug, the pulsing spot at her center ached and throbbed as if tied together
with an invisible string.

Shayla panted and
whimpered as he nibbled at her throat. His mouth came to hers, feeding tenderly,
giving her long, sinuous licks of his tongue.

John cupped a hand
beneath her bottom.

She gasped at the
rush of cool air across her bare hips. Her dress gathered at her waist, making
her damn near naked under the full moon. She didn’t care. Rising to her tippy
toes, she rubbed harder against him, tying to extinguish the burning ache right
through their layers of clothing. She clung to his shoulders, loving the feel
of the strain rippling through the chords of his muscles, grinding against the hard
length of him.

For the first time
in her life, Shayla
felt
what she
wanted. It wasn’t a list of descriptions written on a piece of paper. Her heart
burst with happiness, excitement and a certain level of unbridled trust that
went beyond words in her vocabulary. She couldn’t begin to list his goodness on
a sheet of paper. There was no judgment, only a feeling of being bound so
tightly together, they became one.

“I want to feel
you.” Her hands frantically yanked at his waistband, trembling to get at his
silken skin.

He groaned ruefully.
“I didn’t come prepared,” were the only words she could comprehend between
straggling curse words and a few explicit warnings of what she could look forward
to in a few short hours.

John held her tight,
grinding in rhythm with her hips, encouraging her to ride out the momentum.

 
“Yeah, but I—” Her voice purred low
and hoarse as she reached frenziedly to unzip his pants to take him right
there. She was on fire.

“We can’t, baby,” he
reminded with a slight shake of his head. “But I’ll take care of you.”

 
Collecting her hands in one of his, John
pinned them to the smooth rock above her head. His other hand nudged at her
thighs and she automatically complied, widening her stance. Slipping his
fingers beneath the elastic of her panties, he clenched his jaw. Exhilaration mounted
in his breathing as he watched her face and manipulated the tip of his finger
over layers of skin in teasing circles. Each of them released heated exhales of
relief as he dipped two fingers into her slick flesh.

She moaned as his
fingers pumped, pushing deeper with a small twist. Her inner muscles clenched
around the thick intrusion. His fine-tuned rhythm sent spasms rippling in a
forward direction.

“Feel good, baby?”

 
The sweet endearment in his tone each
time he called her baby felt like a soft caress drawing her closer to him. She
could only nod in response.

Shayla loved the way
he looked at her, yearning to give her pleasure. Her slender body curved and
she rocked with his rhythm. The scrape of his stubble branded her chin and neck
when he devoured her mouth and throat. She twisted, hunting for his lips.

John took her mouth
aggressively with keen slick kisses, stimulating her into rhythmic climax. As
spasms swelled and tumbled through her, she strained on her toes, lifting her
hips, offering more, needing him to extinguish the fervor he ignited inside her.
Her body jerked and trembled. “Oh, oh, oh God,” she cried out in a quiet
whimper.

He covered her
mouth, consuming sounds of her pleasure.

Shayla went limp, sagging
against him, exhaling a whimper when he withdrew his fingers.

John rolled to the
side, propping his back against the rock and hauling her into a one armed
embrace.

She stood between
his thighs, wantonly sprawled over his front, catching her breath.
 

Cool air wafted
across the back of her exposed legs and layer of humid skin. She stared,
watching him bring his fingers to his mouth to indulge in her flavor.

“You taste good.
I’ve never been so damn hard in my life.” John stroked her arm and back,
settling her trembles, keeping continuous contact with her skin as if he were a
masseur finishing the best massage of her life. “I’m sorry, baby. I planned on
waiting until later, but I just couldn’t help it. I’ll make love to you as soon
as we get out of here.”

“I don’t care if
it’s half-way, all the way, or…or even a quarter of the way. I’ll remember this
moment for the rest of my life. I’ve never felt so…so
alive
in all my life.” Her voice turned tender as she confessed, “I’ve
never done this outside.”

A flash of a grin
tucked into the corner of his mouth. Her admission seamed to surprise him. “Ever?”

She tilted her head
sideways in coy acknowledgement.

“You’ll love the desert.”
He caressed her arms from shoulder to fingertip with utmost tenderness. “I’ll
take you out in the middle of nowhere, bouncing around in my truck near the
base of the mountains.”

She unbuttoned one
button of his shirt then another, pressing kisses to his chest and fingering
his dark nipple. So entranced in the sunny vision running though her mind, she
allowed herself to drift forward into the future. Intrigued, she asked, “And
then what?”

Uncertainty clouded
his gaze, as if trying to decide if he should continue. He hesitated, but only
briefly. “We’d pack a lunch. I’d teach you all about the desert and take you to
see some ancient petroglyphs.”

 
“I make great gourmet sandwiches.” Shayla
was aware of the fragile ground she walked on to speak of the future. But she
couldn’t resist, wanting to know what he would be like at home.

“We’d find a little
hidden gully and spread out a blanket. I’d turn on some old rock and roll and
we would talk and laugh, enjoying each other. We’d stretch out naked in the hot
afternoon sun and I’d rub you down with some warm oil. Close your eyes, Shay,” he
demanded, anticipation lingering in his voice.

She did as he asked,
letting her lids fall shut to the night sky.

“Can you imagine
doing this in the heat of the day? The sun beating down on us.” His delicate
voice sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

A wondrous vision of
him lying naked on a blanket in the glow of the afternoon sun sifted through
her head. Her lips parted and a heavy exhale rose in her throat. “Ummhmm.”

“I’d kiss every. Single.
Inch of you. And make love you so sweetly. Or roughly. Hell, I’ll make love to
you however you want.”

“I might have a
list.” She smiled.

“Then we’d cuddle
together watching the second most gorgeous sunset we’ve ever seen while
enjoying a glass of wine.”

“And the first?” Her
eyes opened.

“Tonight was the
first.” He held her close, watching her reaction. “And after that, it’s Vegas
so your options are endless depending on what kind of woman you are. We can lay
right there and sleep all night under a blanket made of stars or we could walk
the Strip, see a show or even go clubbing all night long.”
 

Leaning fully
against him, she couldn’t help notice he remained rock hard and rearing to go. Her
hand lowered into his slacks, attempting to grip the girth of him in her hand.

His stomach muscles
tensed and he gave a long drawn out groan as she stroked down the length of
him.

“I’m the kind of
woman who would be up for all of the above. And it all sounds quite captivating
except for the fact that you’ve probably done this checklist a dozen times
before.” Envy pinged in her voice and her insides trembled.
I want that day,
she realized. And she didn’t
want anyone else basking in the desert sun with him.

 
“No. You, Shayla, require an entirely new
set of checklists.”

The sound of heels
marching down the path bounced off the lava wall rising above the music coming
from the wedding.
 

“Shit.” John edged
in front of Shayla, shielding her from oncoming embarrassment.

Shayla yanked her
hand from his pants and adjusted the top of her dress while John tugged and
straightened the silky fabric around her thighs. She combed her fingers through
her hair, tucking it behind her shoulders. “Am I okay?” she whispered,
motioning toward her hair.

He raised a doubtful
eyebrow, adjusting his hard on with the heel of his hand.

Shayla put her back
to the wall, making certain she remained out of sight, grinning up at him as
she buttoned his shirt.

“Hello?” Tracy
called out from around the corner, tipping them off while keeping her distance.
“John? Shayla?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you guys
descent?”

“We’ll be right
there.” He averted his face, hiding a smile.

Shayla giggled
softly, gripping him by the collar and pulling his mouth to hers. She whispered
into his mouth, words and breath caught between pressed lips, “Tell her we’ll
be there in ten minutes.”

Tracy cleared her
throat. “Hello? I’m still here.”

“We’ll be there in a
few minutes.” His chest shook, hiding his laugh as he playfully backed her up
against the bluff. Spanning his arms wide above her head, John gripped the rock
as if he wanted to lift it above his head and throw it over the edge into the
churning depths of water below. His forehead came to rest on hers. Both nuzzled
each other’s face while smothering their laughter.

“Sorry, Romeo. I
have strict instructions from Benny that I’m not allowed to come back without
you.” Tracy cautioned.

John nipped the
sensitive curve between Shayla’s neck and shoulder. His sweet whisper tickled
her ear. “Let’s go, Wonder Woman.”

Laughter and voices
ushered along the silent path, growing louder as they neared the reception.
The Way You Look Tonight
played as John courteously
held open the gate for Tracy and Shayla.

He tucked Shayla’s
arm through the bend at his elbow, but Tracy cut them off. She folded her arms
across her chest and shirked to one side. A disapproving scowl gathered between
her brows as she took a brief survey of the couple from head to toe under the
dim lighting.

“Holy shit. What the
hell happened to you?”

A tiny muscle near Shayla’s
mouth twitched. Evading Tracy’s scrutiny, she glanced at John for backup. One
look at his proud face and the phrase “worked-over-hard” came to mind. Shayla’s
fingers crept slowly over her face, fixing possible smudges.

Tracy rolled her
eyes. She held up her finger, advising Shayla not to budge. After a brisk walk
to her table, she returned with Shayla’s purse. “I think you’re gonna need
this.”

“Thanks,” Shayla
muttered appreciatively, wandering off to find the ladies room and a well
needed mirror.

After making slight
repairs to her disheveled appearance and a light coat of fresh lipstick, Shayla
went back to the reception. She stopped beneath the cover of the pergola, catching
a glimpse of John dancing with his mother.

Standing in the
shadows, she watched them smile and laugh. Shayla couldn’t hear what they said,
but John’s face beamed with pride as they conversed. She felt as if she were
intruding on a private moment, but couldn’t look away from the love. Warmth
climbed up her neck as she witnessed the precious moment.

A moonbeam cast
through the slots of aged timber above her head and shined down on her fingers.
Shayla held out her hand. Her gaze locked on the white band circling her
finger. She licked her thumb and scrubbed at the faint mark left by one week of
California sunshine.

“Are you enjoying
yourself?”

She jumped, startled
by her uncle’s deep voice. He draped his arm over her shoulder, rubbing her
chilly arm for friction. Both remained quiet, watching the tender scene
unfolding in front of them. Shayla nodded. Unable to stop her comparison of
this amazing bond taking place before her and the fiasco of Thanksgiving at
Mat’s home, she peered despondently at her finger again.

“He’s a good man.”

Shayla glanced
sideways at her uncle. She shirked in complete surprise. “I always thought you
never cared for Mat.”

Tommy gave a raucous
scoff. “You’re right about that, sweetheart. I don’t care for Mat. I was
referring to him.” He pointed at John.

“Oh.” Shayla looked
on.

John dipped his
mother with ease.

She swallowed hard
and added, “He seems pretty…wonderful. I keep thinking there’s no possible way
they’re really like this all the time. I mean, seriously. Does a family like
this really exist?”

“I thought the same
thing when I met Tess.” One of his infamous wry smiles tugged at one side of
his mouth. “I’ve waited all my life to meet a women like her. I didn’t think
she existed. And to tell you the truth, I was scared to death to meet her kids,
but they’re amazing. Thanksgiving was the one of the best weekends of my life.
Missed you,” he added.

The sight of her
uncle so enamored by a woman pleased her.

Shayla’s gaze
drifted to his shoulder and she dared to ask, “Is John like this all the time?
Happy, fun, charming.”

“Yep. And you should
add honest, hardworking and protective as hell to your list. And the last thing
you want to do is piss him off.” He pointed to his once blackened eye.
 

John caught sight of
her standing in the darkness and her stomach did a flip-flop like she stood at
the cliff readying herself to leap from the edge.

 
Shayla tucked her arm around Tommy’s
waist, clinging to him like a small child. She rested her head on the crook of
his arm and drew in a heavy breath. Her uncle took on the role of her father
for the most part, and just the warm spicy scent of him brought a calmness to
her. Every time she caught a whiff of him, it felt like coming home. “They just
seem so perfect.”

He gathered her
closer, swaying slightly resting his cheek on the top of her head. “Awe, Shay.
We’re all just a small adjustment away from making our lives perfect, but you
should never settle for anything or anyone less than the perfect person for you.”

“I’m not looking
forward to going home.”

“You have to do
what’s best for you, sweetheart,” he said without hesitation. “It’s just
difficult to say some things out loud and it’s even harder for you to hurt
someone. I’m guessing that’s why you stayed with Mat this long.”

The reality of his
words sank to the bottom of her stomach like a penny sinking to the bottom of a
pool. Her gaze fell to the floor.

“I’ve kept quiet about
Mat
and his family
for a long time,
Shayla. I’ve always tried to help steer you in the right direction while
letting you take your own journey.”

“I know, but
sometimes I still appreciate your advice.”

“I planned on
talking to you about the whole engagement fiasco while you were here, but
you’ve been…busy. Honestly, you know I’ve been completely worthless when it
comes to relationships, until I met Tess.” He stroked her hair. “But if I’ve
learned anything over the course of my life, it’s that doing what’s best for
you isn’t always easy.”

 
“I know.” She nodded against his chest.

“Life is a journey
and everything happens for a reason. That man,”—Tommy bent one eyebrow,
looking at John in the distance—“has come into your life for a reason.
Just like the day you showed up on my doorstep. And just like the numerous days
I said goodbye to a nice woman because she never truly touched my heart.”

Utterly astonished
by the sincerity in his voice, she turned, staring into her uncle’s dark eyes
that began to redden.

“I can’t imagine the
amount of perfect timing it took to put Tess in my path. Sometimes, at the
precise moment, Fate intercedes.”

“The stars aligned
that day.” Shayla grinned, wiping the slick of tears blurring her vision.

“Only you can decide
your path, Shay, but this was supposed to happen. Don’t beat yourself up over
it.”

“You’re not mad? You
know…your niece, her son.”

“Hell no! Is that
what you’re worried about?”

“A little. The media
would—”

“Don’t you dare worry
about what the media or
anyone
else
thinks. You do what’s best for you.”

By
anyone,
he meant Mrs. Huntston and her
political entourage.

Tommy gave her a
wide-eyed look of assurance and tapped his finger to the end of her nose as if
she were a little girl.

“I love you, Tommy.
You know I think of you more like my dad.”

“I love you too, but
let’s not start that conversation. I’ll be crying like a baby again.” He
squeezed her shoulder and nodded toward John leading his mother toward the
pergola. “And right now, it appears as if you’re wanted on the dance floor.”

John never took his
eyes off her until he relinquished his mother’s hand to Tommy. Shayla immediately
reached for John’s hand, greeting him with a kiss on his neck.
Moves Like Jagger
started playing and
the newlyweds wasted no time making their way back to the floor.

“Let’s tear it up,”
John said, following right behind.

John gained her
undivided attention, moving seductively over her body as he danced. He took
control, pulling her close, artfully molding his hips to hers. He wore a
haughty wide smile, practically laughing out loud at her stunned expression as
he lithely rolled his body against hers like a snake.

The heat on her skin
climbed, and Shayla felt a prickling sensation bourgeon as he charted every
curve of her body. Part of her wanted to run for cover, and the other wanted to
melt into him like a hot shower. His rising body temperature heated his fresh,
spicy cologne, filling each breath of air with his aroma.

Warily, she dared to
take a quick glimpse around the room to see who watched, only to find each
couple dancing with the same enthusiasm and confidence. “What did you say you
do in Vegas?”

“Don’t judge. I only
did that part time when I was younger to make extra cash.”

Shayla stood paralyzed
in a wide-eyed stupor. A flash of his white sardonic smile caught her eye. She
grinned over her shoulder as he danced around her. “Should I go get me some dollars?”

“You get it free,”
he growled, provoking a squeal of delight. Every flexing muscle swayed and
bumped against her backside. “I’ll teach you some new moves tonight.”
 

“Oh, I think I can
manage.”

He sauntered to her front
side. Glancing down at her sharply, John gripped her hips. “You’re in for a
long night, baby.”

****

Benny and Tracy each
gave a touching toast about sentiment and gratitude of newfound love, a love
that would last the remainder of their lifetime. The toast was meant for Tommy
and Tess, but Shayla and John held to each other silently, listening to every
word. Shayla’s chest ached and a severe rush of heat climbed up her neck. Her
earlobes burned and she held back tears, overcome with a new desire for an endless
tomorrow. Shayla yearned for her own happily ever after.

Reflexively, she molded
her back against his wide chest, trembling from head to toe, submerged in
incredulous feelings of adoration for a man she barely knew.

And damned if he
didn’t dissect every tremor.

John held her
shoulders. His lips searched the sensitive curve on her neck, making a
sympathetic sound. “It’s okay, baby.”
 

She shook her head,
willing away tears that continued to threaten to come again. Words tumbled
anxiously from her lips. “Actually, it’s not okay. I don’t get it. I feel like
a gushing bumble of nerves ready to cry at any given moment. I don’t know if
it’s Greece or the wedding or—”

“I’m not feeling
myself either, Shay.” The raw honesty in his tone simmered her angst. It wasn’t
Greece or the wedding. John hauled her close and peered over her shoulder,
raising his glass of champagne to hers. “But I can tell you this much. In about
two or three more songs neither one of us is gonna care. And the only thing
you’d better be crying out is my name.”

 
Right on queue,
Maybe I’m Amazed
by Paul McCartney began to play, drawing them to
the floor. John sang softly near her temple, his exhalations floating across
her cheek. He maneuvered her through the song with finesse. They kissed openly.
It started with elusive touches of parted lips, but with each passing chorus
the connection held longer and deeper.

JC danced beside them,
leaning closer, nudging her brother, and joining in with the climactic, “‘Oooooo.’”

John tossed a luminous
smile and an eye roll at his little sister.

Shayla smiled into
his shirt, finishing the song with them.

“I’m surprised you
know this song.” A mock grin tickled the edge of her lips as she made reference
to his young age.

“The only class I
managed to pass in my first and only semester of college was The History of
Rock and Roll.”

“You didn’t finish
college?”

His fingers spread
wide on her back, spanning the narrow cage beneath her shoulder blades. She
gasped a little as he gripped her firmly to the length of his body. “I’m more
of a
hands on
kinda guy.”

****

It was late when
they arrived at the trendy, five-star hotel. Welcomed with a signature
cocktail, Tracy and JC meandered through the lobby, taking in the n
ature-inspired
atmosphere one painting at a time.

John rested an elbow on the counter, mindlessly playing with
a lock of Shayla’s hair, never taking his eyes off her. She’d previously made reservations
for three rooms. When the clerk presented their room cards, he pressed his
pointer finger on top of a card, sliding it back to the clerk. “We won’t be
needing this one.”

“Actually, that’s my room key.” Shayla retrieved card and
pushed another toward the clerk. “And it’s a suite.”

“Of course
you
have a suite.”

“Perks of making the reservations. Comes with the job.”

John murmured,
nipping her ear, “I’m gonna give you some perks with the job.”

Shayla released a
shaky laugh.
God, I love his sense of
humor!

His deep chuckle
strummed down her spine like caressing fingers as they made their way to the
room.

The lights flickered on when the door opened. Crossing the
threshold into the romantic sanctuary, Shayla’s nerves sizzled like holiday
chaser lights.
 
The stark white suite
was built with rustic, authentic architecture, harmonizing perfectly with
modern elements. She ambled toward the sliding glass door.