Some Like It Hot (15 page)

Gina drew in a deep breath as she thought about what he was saying. The only thing she’d ever known Mitch to be driven to do was to be successful. Although he hadn’t relished the idea of them having a child, she had always believed that he would have made a good father. A hardworking one but a good father nonetheless. And she had always wanted a child, which hadn’t changed. But she had never thought about being a single mother. Although her parents had been separated while she was growing up, both had played major roles in her life. Her father had always been there for her, just like her mother. She’d had a close relationship with the both of them. She hadn’t missed out on having a father figure in her life just because her parents had not lived under the same roof. However, a part of her had always wanted her parents to get back together because for some reason she’d felt they had still loved each other. Even as a child she had felt love between them, even if they hadn’t. But as her mother had explained one day when she had been old enough to understand, it was not a matter of simply kissing and making up. There had been too much hurt and pain for that.

Gina couldn’t help but wonder if Mitch understood that the same held true for them. They couldn’t kiss and make up. Nor could they make love and make up either. Although she had every intention of making love to him tonight, as far as she was concerned their situation had not changed. At least not enough to rebuild what had been torn down.

“Gina?”

Mitch regained her attention. She fully understood what he was asking, and more specifically, what he was insinuating. Had it been a night where she was not filled with profound need, she would have thought a different way. Her mother had forewarned her about long-denied sexual needs, and tonight Gina wanted and needed Mitch in the most intimate and elemental way. It was the way a woman was meant to want a man. That meant she would have her night with him and her morning, and possibly another day and night, maybe several. But sooner or later he would realize, just like she did, that what they shared was physical. Emotionally, he didn’t stand a chance with her because she would not allow him to invade her heart a second time.

Fully understanding her position, even if he didn’t, she slowly walked over to him, naked as the day she was born into the world. So was he. Standing on tiptoe she placed her arms around his neck and brought her body close to his, skin-to-skin, flesh-to-flesh, and sensuality-to-sensuality. “If I get pregnant, Mitch, I’ll deal with it. I’ve always wanted a child, anyway.”

“And what role will I get to play?”

“The only role you can play. The father.”

Mitch nodded. In time he would establish the role he would play in her life as well—her husband. But right now, tonight, he wanted to give her a taste of that role, a sampling she would not forget. He slid his arm around her waist and drew her even closer to his body. Now they were bone-to-bone, hip-to-hip.

He slowly walked her backward to the bed, and when they couldn’t go any farther, he eased her down on the bed with him the same moment he took her mouth into his, kissing her wildly as he splayed his hand across her hip and thigh, and sought out the area between her legs.

A fierce rush of sexual need flooded Gina and she could barely get breath into her lungs. Mitch was touching her, tormenting her, and branding her and she was helpless in his arms. Then the next instant he was hovering above her. Ready for him, she widened her legs and lifted her hips the moment he drove his hardness into her.

He felt huge and was inside of her so deep she thought he must have gotten bigger since the last time they had done this. Her body felt tight around him. Tight and incredibly feminine. She groaned deep within her throat when he shifted their bodies and lifted her even more into the cradle of his arms while buried deep inside of her.

The position he had placed her in forced her to look at him. After wrapping her legs around his waist, he braced his hands on either side of her head and stared down at her without moving.

“I love you, Gina.”

His words, spoken like a soft caress, penetrated her mind and made her insides quiver. But a part of her refused to accept his declaration. She knew it was lust and not love that was talking.

“No, you don’t love me. You love
this.
”

“I love
you
.”

“No, you love this. Admit it.”

He held her gaze for the longest time before saying, “Yes, I love
this
but only because
this
is a part of you. But I love this, too,” he said, pressing a kiss to her nose. “And this,” he said, kissing an area just above her right eyebrow. “And I’m plumb crazy about this,” he said, gently brushing a kiss to her mouth. “There isn’t an area on you that I don’t love, mainly because I love you, Gina. So damn much.”

And then he began moving, slowly, making sure she felt every stroke he made into her body. On and on, back and forth, in and out he moved, rocking into her and setting off shock waves of pleasure throughout both of their bodies.

The sound of Gina’s moans increased as she became delirious in desire to the point where she could barely speak. He heard her draw a deep gasping breath with every stroke he made, just as dazed and overcome with passion as he was. His gentle strokes turned into deep thrusts and he fought back his intense need to explode inside of her.

When he felt himself losing control he reached for the condom he had placed on the nightstand next to the bed and ripped it open, intent on pulling out of her and putting it on. But that was before he felt her body quivering uncontrollably as she surrendered to her own release.

“Mitch!”

Her legs tightened around him and his body automatically detonated at the feel of her internal muscles clenching him. He began pumping into her, flooding her insides with enough semen to produce fifty babies.

When the both of them were completely spent and their bodies had begun melting down through a sweltering haze of sensations, Mitch pulled Gina closer into his arms and whispered “I love you” one last time before pulling the covers over their naked bodies and giving in to sleep.

The ringing of the telephone woke Mitch. Disoriented, he glanced around the room, saw it was barely daylight outside, then remembered where he was and who he was with. The sensuous smell of the woman sleeping in his arms was a welcoming reminder.

Without thinking he reached over and picked up the phone before it could ring again. “Hello.”

“Good morning, Mitchell.”

Ah, hell,
Mitch thought, closing his eyes.
Why on earth had he answered the phone?
He slowly reopened his eyes. “Hello, Mrs. Grant.”

There was a soft chuckle. “Somehow I just knew you would be there.”

Mitch decided not to ask how she’d known. “Gina is asleep,” he decided to tell her as a way to hurry up and end the conversation. He could just imagine what Gina’s mother thought with him answering the phone this time of morning. And what was so bad, everything she thought was probably true. He and Gina had done a number of wild and wicked things throughout most of the night.

“Please wake Gina up. I need to talk with her.”

He started to tell her Gina was probably too tired to talk, but decided that wouldn’t be the wisest thing to do. He didn’t want to make waves with the woman who would soon be his mother-in-law again; someone he could definitely use as an ally. Shifting positions in the bed, he gently nudged Gina. She looked at him sleepily and before she could say anything he quickly handed her the phone.

Confused, sluggish, and still very drowsy, Gina yawned as she spoke into the receiver. “Ahhh, hello…?”

“And what were you saying just yesterday about things being
strictly business
between you and Mitchell, Regina Renee? If anything, it seems whatever you two are working on is
strictly pleasure.
”

Gina quickly sat straight up in bed. “Mom!”

Mitch lay with his hands behind his head as he watched Gina talk on the phone to her mother. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was an extraordinarily beautiful woman.

The sheet had fallen past her waist, leaving the top part of her bare. Deep in conversation, she didn’t bother to cover herself. His gaze feasted on her breasts, firm, squeezably soft, and a perfect fit for his hands. His heated vision then blazed a trail lower to the curve of her small waist and the flatness of her belly.

He felt his body become aroused as he continued to watch her, wondering how much longer she would be on the phone. He could tell from her expression that whatever her mother was saying, she wasn’t too happy about it. He watched her move the phone to the other ear and waited for the time when he could claim her attention. He wasn’t in any hurry since he didn’t plan to leave her bed anytime soon.

Finally, she glanced over at him. Her cheeks tinted when she saw he lay uncovered, unashamedly exhibiting a full erection. She tried looking away but a few seconds later her gaze returned to him. He smiled when she unconsciously began licking her lips.

“Uh, Mom, I have to go. Yes, I’ll tell Mitch, but the decision will be his.” Gina inhaled deeply as she continued to look at him. “Tell Daddy that I love him, too. Good-bye.” Taking another deep breath she handed Mitch the phone and watched as he placed it back in the cradle without shifting positions.

“You’ll tell me what?” he asked, his voice low and intimate, as he reached up and touched her shoulders. He immediately felt a shiver race through her.

“Dinner,” she said, barely getting the word out. She felt herself melting from his touch and the heated look in his eyes.

“What about dinner?”

When she felt his hand move lower toward her breasts, she had to think hard for an answer. “They want you to come to dinner.”

“They who?”

A long breath staggered from her lungs when Mitch touched her breasts, slowly caressing one nipple and then the other. His touch felt so good she found herself closing her eyes to…

“They who, Gina?”

She reopened them and looked at him. He had shifted positions and was now close to her face. She quickly sucked in a gulp of air when his hand moved lower, to her stomach. How on earth did he expect her to concentrate while touching her this way? “My parents. They want me to bring you to dinner tonight. Can you?”

Mitch gently massaged her stomach. He couldn’t help wondering if perhaps he had gotten her pregnant last night, and if even now his child was taking shape and forming into a life inside her womb. That very thought made him want her even more. He leaned up closer to her ear, tasting her right beneath it with the tip of his tongue, before moving to her mouth. “Can I what?”

“Can you come?”

He chuckled against her lips. “After last night how can you even ask such a thing? Yeah, I can come, plenty of times. In fact I’m about ready to come now.”

“Mitch,” she whispered, her voice straining, her body blazing hot. “Don’t misinterpret the question. Mom and Dad want you to come with me to dinner tonight at their place. But you don’t have to.”

“Thank you,” he said, placing butterfly kisses around her mouth and chin. “For letting me know that I don’t have to, but I don’t mind going.”

Gina swallowed. With the way he was kissing her and touching her, overwhelming desire was clouding her mind. “You sure?”

“About what?” he murmured as he traced kisses from her mouth to her shoulders.

“Dinner at my parents’ place.” Gina was wondering how long she would last before finally going up in flames when he slipped his hand beneath the sheet and found her hot and wet. Her body jolted to awareness when his finger intimately checked her for readiness.

“The only thing I’m sure about,” he said, gently easing her on her back, “is that I want to make love to you again.”

Moments later, when his body entered hers, the only thing Gina could think was—
Good answer, good answer.

The interstate into Fresno wasn’t the least bit crowded, Gina noticed as Mitch drove them to his ranch. After they had made love once, then twice, they had showered together. He had invited her back to his place, saying she could interview him on the way there. So she had, although it was hard thinking about business when the two of them had had so much pleasure the night before and that morning.

“So, now that you’ve gotten chummy with our governor, does that mean you will be changing political parties?”

Mitch chuckled, trying to recall if that particular question had been on the list. “No. I plan to remain a Democrat until the day I die and the governor knows that. Appointing me to that national position showed he cares more about what the real issues are than party affiliations.”

Gina nodded. “Do you have to travel to Washington often?”

“I did in the beginning. But now the committee only meets twice a year unless there are some major concerns.”

That piqued Gina’s interest. “Have there been a number of major concerns?”

Mitch smiled over at her when he finally pulled up in front of the ranch house and brought his Durango to a stop. “I know for a fact that that wasn’t an interview question, Gina. And I don’t think the president or the other committee members would appreciate me telling any secrets.”

Gina grinned as she unfastened her seat belt. “I’m not
that
kind of reporter, Mitch.”

He raised a dark brow at her. “Any reporter is
that
kind of reporter once they get wind of what they think is a news-breaking story. Come on, you can finish asking me your questions later. I need to talk to that group over there.”

The “group” he was referring to were the contractors he’d hired to completely renovate the ranch house. She smiled when she saw it was the twins, Blade and Slade Madaris. Throwing up her hand, she waved to them as she headed for the trailer. They were a year younger than she was, and she remembered the times the three of them often played together as kids while growing up, along with the twins’ cousin, Luke Madaris.

Once inside the trailer she glanced around. Mitch had to be one of the neatest men she knew. Everything was in place. When they were married he had nearly driven her crazy with his fetish for being tidy. She smiled. She felt better today than she had in a long time.

Half an hour later, without looking over her shoulder Gina said, “Lunch is ready,” as she stood on tiptoe to take some plates out of the cabinet.

“Can I take a chance and eat it and live?”

She turned around with a frown on her face. “I’ll have you know, Mitch Farrell, that I’ve learned to cook.”

Mitch leaned against the closed trailer door with his arms crossed over his chest looking skeptical. “Since when?”

Gina smiled. “Since I no longer had you to do it for me,” she said, remembering how Mitch enjoyed doing all the cooking. Even those times when he had put in long days at the office, he would get up at the crack of dawn and prepare a four-course meal for dinner before going to work. The only thing she did in the kitchen was to go get a plate.

“Besides,” she added, placing bowls and cups on the kitchen table. “You can’t go wrong with a can of Campbell’s soup and a box of saltine crackers.”

Mitch shook his head, smiling. “No, I guess you can’t. Give me a second to wash my hands and I’ll join you.”

“All right.”

By the time he returned Gina had set the table. “I didn’t want us to eat anything heavy to ruin dinner. Knowing Mom, she’s probably preparing a feast. Trevor, Corinthians, and the baby are coming to dinner, too.”

Mitch slipped into the chair opposite Gina. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours they had shared a meal together. Yesterday he had prepared lunch for her and today she had prepared lunch for him. He could actually count on his fingers the number of times they had shared a meal together while married. Usually he was so late coming in from work that by the time he got home she would have eaten and gone to bed.

Bed.

Now that was where they had spent most of their time together. No matter how late it had been when he got home, once he went to bed, Gina would willingly come into his arms.

“Now for the next question.”

He looked up after saying his grace to see her pull out her writing pad and pencil. He also noted she had the tape recorder sitting on the side. He frowned. “I didn’t know this would be a working lunch.”

Gina grinned at him. “So now you know. I thought if we got through most of the questions, we wouldn’t have to spend our time later tonight discussing them.”

A smile tilted the corners of his lips. He knew exactly what he wanted them to do later tonight. “That’s a good point.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I thought you would agree.” She flipped through the pages to find the questions she wanted to ask him. “Now then, what drove you to become successful?”

She could tell the question bothered him, judging from the way he looked when she asked it. “Mitch?” Some sort of struggle was taking place inside of him but she didn’t understand why. “Mitch, why does that question bother you? It was on the list.”

“Yes, I know, but I wasn’t prepared for it yet.”

“Surely, you’ve been asked that before?” she countered.

He stared at her for the longest moment before saying, “No, I haven’t ever been asked that. Mainly because no one knows how hard I worked to become successful. And no one knows how I let it become an obsession. I was truly what you’d call a workaholic. I became addicted to work the same way a person becomes addicted to drugs or alcohol. Do you know by the time we got a divorce, I was working well over eighty hours a week?”

Gina shook her head. She hadn’t known he’d been working
that
many hours, although she’d known he had been working quite a lot.

“Well, I was. The only time I wasn’t thinking about work was when I was making love to you. You were the only distraction I had, Gina.”

“But why, Mitch? Why were you driven so?”

He sighed deeply. He wasn’t ready to share with her how it was to be a child and go to bed every night hungry. Sometimes the hunger pains were so bad you couldn’t function in class the next day. Then you had to deal with teachers who thought you weren’t paying attention because you were slow, when in truth you were so hungry you couldn’t think straight. The only thing that had kept him going, that had kept him from giving up, was his determination to one day never be hungry and never be thought of as slow again. He had vowed to work hard, study hard, and be successful. There had been nothing wrong with that goal—except somehow he had taken it to the extreme.

He began talking, hoping that Gina would understand without his having to tell her everything. “For the longest time I had convinced myself that the reason I did it was because of what I went through while living with my uncle. I’ve often told you what a miser he was. I promised myself that I would grow up and become successful and I wouldn’t go without anything. And I guess that was partly true. But somewhere along the line I lost focus. Somewhere along the line I began working in order to live and living in order to work. Work became the center of my life, and while other things were important to me, work became number one.”

Gina nodded. He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. She had realized long before she had finally asked for a divorce that she had been relegated to the bottom of his list.

“So to answer your question, Gina,” he said, reclaiming her attention, “I guess you can say that I was first driven because I somehow believed that I
had
to be successful. In my mind not being successful meant being a failure. Then, when I married you, I knew I had a tough act to follow with your father. Although he didn’t live with you and your mother and Trevor, he still was able to provide for you. I considered you as high maintenance. Although you didn’t ask for much, I knew you were used to having nice things and I wanted to continue to provide you with those things.”

“But I had a job, Mitch. I worked every day and had money.”

“Yes, but I felt that as your husband
I
was supposed to take care of you and provide you with the things you needed and wanted. I was determined to take care of you, and in order to do that it meant I had to work hard and move up in my career. At some point I became unable to separate work and play. Other than sex, work was what energized me.”

“And what about now, Mitch?” she asked softly, wanting to know, needing to know. “What energizes you now?”

He smiled across the table at her. “You. With you I’d rather play than work.”

“Why now and not before?”

“Because I’ve changed and I’ve allowed my priorities to change. And because I’ve been so damn miserable without you in my life, Gina.”

She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that he was no longer working himself to death and that his life was more manageable now than it had been when they were married. She wanted to believe all of that, but a part of her was afraid to. The last thing she wanted was a repeat performance of pain in her life. “When you finish eating, how about we take a walk and I can complete the list of questions I have for today?”

Mitch nodded. He knew that she was deliberately bringing the interview to an end for now. She didn’t want to accept that workaholism was a disease just like alcoholism and that people could become bona fide workaholics. One day he would tell her how he had met Ivan Spears, a successful banker, at a gym, and how Ivan, a former workaholic himself, had talked him into attending a Workaholics Anonymous meeting. Ivan had organized a group of men and women—all African-Americans—who were in the same predicament as him. After several meetings they had helped each other realize that, as African-Americans, they shared the belief that giving one hundred percent in the corporate workplace wasn’t enough. They had to give one hundred and fifty percent or even more to reach the same success level as their white counterparts. Being supportive of each other had helped. And although they couldn’t change the way corporate America operated, at least they knew what they had to do to recover from workaholism.