Take Cover (5 page)

We pulled up in front of the restaurant thirty minutes late. Charlette hadn’t uttered a single word when I arrived to pick her up or during the entire ride. Instead, she climbed into the car wearing a form fitting shimmery gold dress, which hugged her in all the right places. The woman may be an aggravating annoyance, but one thing was for sure... she was stunning, though not as breathtaking as Emily.

I winced at the thought, my mind going to her and what she was up to. I knew I shouldn’t care, since she had ripped my heart from my chest and cast me away, but I couldn’t help but long for her still.

No! You need to forget about her,
I reprimanded myself. If only it were that easy.

I stepped out and rounded the car to open the door for Charlette, who was still mute it appeared. Had this been any other women and a normal date, I would have been aggravated by their silent treatment, but for Charlette I felt thankful for the distance.

She exited the car on her own, refusing my hand when I extended it toward her. She shifted the dress that had slid up her thighs and straightened to walk toward the entrance of the restaurant but halted unexpectedly.

Confused, I followed her gaze until I saw what she had been staring out.

Her. Mon amour.

My breath hitched in my throat at the sight of her. She was dressed in a textured pencil dress with an ultradeep plunged neckline that showed her delicious mounds, in the best possible way, without taking away from her elegance. Her curves were accentuated in the dress, causing me to gulp, my mouth now parched. She was the only woman that could make my throat run dry.

Thirst. I was thirsty for her and her alone. No other woman could quench the desire she elicited within me. I felt myself straining in my pants, and I drank her up from head to toe.

Her eyes met mine, and I was rendered speechless by the instant desire flooding her gaze. Her chest rose and fell rapidly along with mine, until she shifted her eyes to my date, and her face flushed with horror.

Her legs seemed to give and she fell back into someone’s embrace. I looked up and found my brother holding her tight. Too fucking tight!

I closed the space between us in seconds, yanking Emily away from his grasp, even while she resisted.

“Get your fucking hands off of her,” I growled, my face now merely two inches away from his, my hands fisted firmly on his collar.

The guilt. It was written all over his face. The shock was in his eyes.

“No! Leave him alone,” came from Emily, who lurched to his side. “Shane, are you okay?”

I turned to face her, not believing what I had heard. She asked if he was okay? Is she fucking serious?

“Is he okay? Fuck, Emily,” I snapped toward her. “You leave me and then you go and be with him? My fucking brother!”

How could she do this to me? Who was this person?

“Hey, bro, don’t yell at her like—” Shane began, but I lost it at that moment, pulling my arm back and connecting it with the side of his face.

“Don’t you fucking tell me how to speak to her, you son-of-a-bitch!” I growled.

Emily screamed for me to stop, but I couldn’t, not yet anyway. The built up anger I had been feeling since she shattered my soul at the hospital came flooding through me. Shane’s face was the perfect place for me to release the emotions I had been avoiding since that horrid night. The agony that stewed within from the moment she had given up on the love I thought we shared. Rage engulfed my body as I thought about her being with my brother.

Where they together before we broke up? Had he taken advantage of her after our breakup? The questions fueled my wrath further as I pounced on him repeatedly. “I should fucking kill you. Vous êtes mort pour moi!
You’re dead to me!
”

“Jules, dear. Please stop. Vous provoquant une scène.
You’re causing a scene
,” Charlette cried, but I continued despite Shane’s pleas for me to stop.

“You don’t understand,” he said, but I continued my pounding until he lost consciousness. I backed away from him, the anger now replaced with horror at the sight of the blood trickling down from his head.

It was everywhere, on the ground next to him, on his clothing, on mine... I looked down at my hands and stared at them, before I was pulled away from my remorse by the shrill, piercing yelps of Charlette.

“Unhand me, you whore,” Charlette screeched, as Emily continued to tug on Charlette’s hair with one hand.

“You fucking bitch,” she barked, as she punched away at Charlette’s back with her free hand.

I quickly intervened, pulling apart the two women. Emily’s breathing was erratic and her eyes threw daggers at me.

“After everything that woman has done to me!” she yelled, her hands flaring all around, her fist still balled up in anger. “You go back to your fucking wife, that bitch? Huh?” she questioned.

“You’re one to talk,” I offered, the bitterness in my tone not lost on her.

We stared at her, both seething in anger, hurt, and betrayal. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that she would move on so soon, even though she had been the one to end our relationship. Seeing her tonight, in his arms, broke something in me.

She was the first to break eye contact, looking to Shane before turning back to me. “Go fuck yourself, Julien Belmont.” She sauntered to Shane’s side and helped him up.

Charlette came to my side, clinging onto me and I turned to face her, “Are you okay?”

She nodded her head ‘yes’ and I breathed a sigh of relief. When I turned to look back at Emily, she was gone along with my brother. I moved to look around for them but instead found the valet attendant staring on in shock.

I stripped off my suit jacket, draping it on Charlette’s shoulders before tearing off my white shirt and wiping my bloody hands, wanting nothing more than to rid myself of my brother’s blood.

“Let’s get you home,” I said, once I had finished. I pulled her close to me and led her back to the car.

We sat on opposite sides of the car as we rode home in complete silence. Jules had been like an animal in front of the hotel, beating his brother with such fury that I feared he would kill him.

He was still cold and distant as we made our way back to the estate. He stepped out of the car and rounded it to open the door for me. Unlike earlier this evening, I took his hand when he extended it. He closed the door behind me, and we strolled to the door, still hand and hand.

I felt nervous after everything that happened. I knew he was upset about
her
, knew that he would probably welcome the silence, right now, but I couldn’t stand the quiet. I needed to say something, but what would one say to a broken man entrapped in brewing rage?

“I’m sorry,” was all that came in a soft, sincere voice, as we entered the estate.

It was the truth. I was sorry that he had to witness her with someone else, his brother, of all people. Shane had obviously sunk to a new low. Even I, who never quite liked the man, hadn’t expected him to betray his only brother this way.

Jules didn’t respond. He only continued up the stairs, my hand still settled in his, trailing behind his now quickened steps. He said nothing as he waltzed straight into the master bedroom and closed the door behind him with his free hand.

“Jules, talk to me. You don’t have to like me, but we are still friends in our own way,” I insisted, searching his eyes for anything to gauge his state of mind.

“Stop talking,” he commanded, and he released my hand and moved around me to the bedside.

Stunned in place, I stood there watching as he undid his tie and flung it on the cream carpet floor. Next, he took off his shoes and socks. I stood frozen in place, not sure what I was to do.

Should I get ready for bed? Should I try to get him to speak to me? Force him to open up?
I hadn’t the faintest idea.

Once his last sock was off, Julien stood to his feet and marched toward me with hooded, lust filled eyes. I gasped as he reached for me and pulled me into his strong arms, his hands wrapped around my waist tight.

“You talk too fucking much, femme.
Woman
,” he murmured, as he dipped his head and captured my lips with his teeth.

Damn him and that wonderful mouth of his. I was no match for the pair. He was always my weakness and his lips... his lips a beautiful, delightful, wonderland that I enjoyed exploring.

I moaned as his tongue circled mine. His hand gripped tight against my hips and he furthered our embrace, his girth now pressing against my pelvis.

“Jules, please,” I begged, when he broke away in a pant and began trailing sensual kisses across my soft, sensitive neck.

My neck fell to the side, giving him more access. Burning, hot, euphoric nips to my skin caused to me sigh in contentment. This was what I wanted. Just like before. I needed him to quench the aching need for him that had been brewing for years. I wanted this, I wanted him...

Except this was not what I
really
wanted. I didn’t just want to be his escape when things with that Emily woman didn’t pan out the way he wanted. Didn’t want to be an instrument he’d pick up only when he felt the need for a release. I wanted him, all of him. I wanted his heart, his soul, his cock—yes, but I wanted him wholly. I wanted his love.

I didn’t push away. Even while my head screamed for me to pull away from him, my heart was breaking as I thought of what allowing him to do this to me would make me. Nothing.

I would mean nothing to him. Just a place he could dump his mess, yet I didn’t stop him, even when he swiftly lifted me in his arms and carried me to the bed after unzipping me from my dress. I didn’t object. Unshed tears burned and I lay on the plush soft silk, begging.

My heart broke more as he stripped me of the gown, gazing down at me with nothing but sinful lust. I felt cheapened, lowly as he freed me of my panties in one forceful tug, shredding the black lace I had worn for him; a decision I had debated on earlier in the evening. I knew
she
had worn the lace for him. In desperation, I thought maybe, just maybe, if I wore them he would learn to like me more. Silly woman.

He growled when he looked at the delicate, torn fabric in his hand before he tossed it aside. Slowly he pried my legs open to him, exposing my drenched pussy. Though I hated what he was doing to me, I still wanted him. My body yearned for him even more.

He drank me in, and I stared up at him expectantly, waiting for him to plunge deep inside of me and take what he wanted. This was for him; it was always all for him. This was the control he had over women who were not his precious Emily. He took what he wanted; never thinking about what his actions would do to us. We, who wanted nothing more than to make him happy.

A single tear rolled down my cheek. I moved to turn away from him, not wanting him to see what he was really doing to me.

“Don’t,” he murmured softly, causing me to look up at him. Another tear fell, betraying me. I stared at his face, breathless as his lustful features relaxed into one of sadness.

No! I didn’t want his pity. I knew he needed this.

I smiled up at him, trying to silently command him to continue his exploits. “Charlette,” he pleaded, deflated as he searched my face.

“It’s okay. Really.”

It truly wasn’t, but I needed him to believe it. This would be my gift to him, a parting one. It was clear now, what I had to do. I would give him this, but soon after, I would leave, return back to France, and resume work.

I steeled my resolve, steadied my breath and rose to my knees. Face to face, I offered him a small smile, “I want to, really,” I choked out softly.

“I’m sorry, Charlette. I know—” he began, but I stopped him with my finger, pressing it to his lips as I pulled him atop of me. “You talk too fucking much, cher mari.
Dear husband.”

He fell forward, towering over me, his eyes never leaving mine. I reached for his solid length with my hand and guided him inside of me slowly. He hissed close to my ear as he sank deeper inside me, causing me to groan at the pleasure of his girth. He stretched me completely.
God, I am so full.
I wrapped my legs around him, taking him in deeper with each slow, deliberate thrust.

He growled and lowered his mouth to my perked nipple, taking it between his teeth and drawing out a greedy, breathless pant. He continued lapping at my sensitive mounds, taking his time with each one, all the while ferociously pumping into my slick, throbbing pussy.

Our skin slapped thunderously in harmony with our groans, bringing me so close to my climax. Jules withdrew almost completely and slowly eased back into me.

Shit! He feels so good. So damn good. Too good.

He changed the pace, once again, dragging out slowly and plunging deep. Deeper still and I began to shudder underneath him, crying out as he hit my g-spot repeatedly.

“Jules,” I called out encouragingly. “Please. Jules, harder.”

He released a guttural growl and quickened his driving into me more quickly.
Yes. Just. Like. That.