Willows, Jennifer - Lust for Life [The Moreland Brothers 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) (18 page)

BOOK: Willows, Jennifer - Lust for Life [The Moreland Brothers 2] (Siren Publishing Allure)
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Charli nestled her legs between Deven’s under the table and took an exploratory bite of Tia’s dinner. The flavors were amazing. She tasted everything from well-seasoned skirt steak to plantains, all resting between two slices of grilled bread. She had to get the recipe. As they ate, Tia stood to the side of their table with a hopeful look of anticipation. She watched Deven consume the sandwich and he was halfway done before the satisfied server walked away with pep in her step.

Bellies filled with the exotic sandwiches and chips, Charli saved a small bit of room for the seemingly moist cake. Deven poured more wine in each of the goblets and tasted his glass while Charli nibbled the last plantain on her plate.

He smiled, eyes stormy and sated, and used the tines of his fork to shave a bite of the five-layer cake. “Want some?”

“Yes, please.” Deven’s smile to her response was wicked and infectious, forcing her to offer one in return.

“Then come and get it.” The words blatantly exuded innuendo, and she helplessly leaned forward as far as the table would allow her to go.

He matched her movements bending toward her across the tiny table and she noted him watch her closely as she leaned forward to accept his proffered taste of the confection. Her eyes closed, and seductive essence burst across her palate. Chocolate, lavender in the whipped cream, espresso and dark rum combined in an explosive series of flavors. If her mouth could have an orgasm, this would be the catalyst.

They allocated tidbits of the delightful dessert, although she had to admit that she had the lion’s share. Deven just kept offering her more and more, which she kept taking and taking. Her greed was so bad that she had to make conscious reminders that she had to split with him. In those moments, the first taste passing his lips on the fork she offered to him, she saw why he wanted to stare her down when she ate. The face he made was nearly the same one he made when he came, nearly as if the explosion in his mouth coincided with one in his pants. If she made the same face he had, she should be charging him and anyone else that saw her dining.

Deven offered her the last slivers, and she wanted to lick the crumbs from the plate, to get every last tidbit. Of course, when the dessert plate was empty Charli felt a bitter wave of frustration at the loss of the rich delicacy. He smeared one thick index finger over the dish and presented her with the leavings. She took them gratefully, using her mouth and tongue to clean the tip of her fleshy utensil as there was no way she wished to see any of it going to waste.

His eyes were heating all over again and when he took her hand this time, Charli was more than happy to follow his lead without complaint. But Deven surprised her by leading her back upstairs toward the dance floor. The option was welcome although she wouldn’t have minded having him against the bathroom wall again either. The floor was nearly empty, and the lone acoustic guitar kept the meter spurring their rhythm.

Charli let her body go under the control of the music and the man holding her. The shuttling of hips was sensuality personified. Their need was so blatant that their bodies were making love clothed and the only thing holding them back was the location, and she was close to not giving a damn about that.

* * * *

One dance became two, then three. It was only when Deven noticed the time on the neon wall clock that he reeled in the dancing siren. Her face was giddy, as if she spent the night doing what she loved. But he knew they carried it too far when he noticed her slight limp. He didn’t even think about the sky-high heels she spent too many hours wearing. Her feet were probably killing her. He helped her to the front door, where Deven handed the maître d’ the yellow check coat slip to get their outerwear. Charli slipped on hers and watched Deven do the same.

Charli was passed out in the passenger seat before the Challenger hit the highway. Deven listened to her snore slightly and turned on the radio. He wanted to get home quickly, was more than tired and ready to go to bed. He laughed at himself. Who would have thought the best thing for his incessant insomnia was someone sleeping with him? Not just someone, he amended, Charli. No matter how little sleep he got with her, it felt better than eight ill-rested hours alone.

Left to his ruminations, Deven drove back into town about an hour later, and headed home. Usually on Mondays he carpooled with Charyn, but tomorrow? It seemed prudent to ask his brother to come to his house. A quick text later, he confirmed that Charyn would be at his house by eight thirty. The timing was good for him. Now he could have an early morning with Charli for breakfast before work.

Deven stripped Charli down to her skin and helped her in bed. He did the same for himself and lay next to her. He checked the alarm clock and pulled the snoring siren into his arms. That night he dreamed about their erotically charged dances, and the dessert that could launch a thousand ships.

Deven watched Charli close her eyes and an expression of extreme bliss play across her face at the taste of the first slivers. He knew that if he could rub her clit once she would come for him. When he let Charli offer him thinly shaved bite of cake from her own fork the amazing flavor hit him at once and his cock stiffened. The first thought he had of the cake, was being in bed with her and feeding her as they fucked. It tasted like succulent wedding cake. Decadent and soft, the cake a man feeds his bride in the white linens of their marital bed to make a mess with. He licked his lips to accept more of the rich delicacy, taking a second bite and feeding Charli another. When the plate was clean of crumbs and rum caramel, he stood and helped Charli up. They had time for one more dance.

This dance was as erotic as the first ones in the dance club were, but this time they were formally garbed. He wore a tuxedo to match the gossamer gown his woman wore. As his subconscious replayed his true desires, Deven realized this dance was their first as man and wife. In his visions he felt none of the usual fear at the concept of matrimony. Instead he felt grateful and supremely satisfied. As if he had won something important and hard fought for. The dance and dream took a delightfully wicked turn when Charli’s hips shimmied in a Cumbia, luring him out the side entrance. She was his Delilah and the woman could entice him to enter Hades with a smile on his face.

Chapter Nine:

Can I Have You for Lunch

When his alarm went off the next morning, Deven snoozed it quickly. He wanted to linger in the moment as long as he could before he rose to start a new day. When it went off the second time, Charli woke up and tapped him twice on the chest.

“Not yet.” He woke but only barely, enough to roll over and snooze the alarm once again.

“Deven, baby… You have to get up.” Charli’s sleepy voice sounded sultry, and like one of Pavlov’s dogs salivating for the bell, his cock rose. Now he had an aching case of morning-wood begging for her pussy.
 

Cracking open one eye he saw Charli sit up, hobbling to the bathroom and Deven sat up to follow behind her. He could use a shower, and from the look of it Charli was just as exhausted as he was. There was no way he was feeling the idea of work this morning. Maybe he could take a day off, at least half of one. But whether he liked it or not, there were a few things he needed to get done today.

When he walked inside the bath, Deven took a bottle of aspirin and Epsom salt from the cabinet and sat them on the floor before he stepped into the steaming shower. Charli had her eyes closed, head tilted back as the streams of water pelted her sore body. He took the few steps needed to fit his body along hers. When she relaxed against him, there was a moment of elation at how easily she had come to accept him.

He leaned over and stopped the shower, letting the water run free to the basin of the tub. Charli looked askance at him, but stepped to the side as he fitted the stopper to the drain anyway. When he had started a bath, Deven poured in some of his bodywash and Epsom salt.

“Deven, I don’t think we have time for a bath. You have to go to work soon.”

“We have enough time for whatever we need.” There was, they had an hour and fifteen minutes, plenty of time to take care of her before he left for work.

And that was that. Charli didn’t offer a rebuttal, and Deven pulled her into the sudsy water to sit in front, facing him.

“Whh-a-a?” Before she could ask him what he was doing, Deven was rubbing her left foot.
 

“Just let me take care of you.” Her eyes went wide, mouth agape, lax even as he stroked his thumbs in tight circles over the arch of her foot and Deven couldn’t stop from smiling. As much as he wanted to explore her reactions to a sensual foot massage, he needed to make sure she wasn’t limping all day. By the time he had refreshed the cooling water and rubbed every aching muscle from her knees south twice, their time together was up. He scrubbed her off first before washing himself. When he finished, he enveloped Charli in his favorite blue robe and wrapped a towel at his hips.

Frustrated his morning was filled with work, Deven made way to the closet. He was going to go in casual today. There were no face-to-face meetings today, just a telephone conference at eleven. If the meeting was over at a decent time, he and Charli could get in a quick lunch together. After dressing, his nose carried him to the kitchen where she was busy toasting bagels and brewing coffee.

He watched her assemble two bacon, egg, and cheese bagels and wrap both in foil, before handing them to him. Deven poured two cups of java, giving Charli one. He sat down on a barstool near the island and tugged her on his lap. They didn’t speak, both letting the caffeine sink in. By the time they each nearly finished their first cup, the front door opened.

“Morning, everybody.” Charyn walked in, laughter evident on his face as he confirmed the reason for the change in the brothers’ standing Monday morning plans.

“Hey, Charyn.” Charli smiled.

“Morning, Charyn.” Deven looked up then sipped the last of his coffee. “I’ll be ready in a few.”

“No rush, I got here a little early.” Charyn smirked at him and Deven knew he was in for it later.

He knew his brother was speculating and the cat was out the bag. Charyn was still standing in the open door, and within moments, he saw why. Makenzie was with him. His sister-in-law was full of pep even at the early hour, and she brought the sun in with her. Deven meant the statement literally as Mak was wearing a knee-length golden sweater in an eye-catching shade. Especially considering it was winter, the garment was a bit loud. But it matched the bright smile she had plastered on her face. The newlyweds were in sync as always. They could finish a sentence the other hadn’t even spoken aloud yet. Charyn stepped inside, making just enough space for her to come inside, and closed the front door. Deven was no fool. He knew his brother just wanted a chance to feel up his wife.

Deven stood up from his stool and put Charli down. He needed to get on some shoes and grab his laptop bag. So reluctantly he went to his bedroom, slid on the shoes and, with the bag in hand, snatched a spare key from the dresser. He wanted to give it to Charli, but not in front of everyone. Not that he cared who knew what he did, but she would.

* * * *

Charli was more than happy to see Makenzie. She was her best friend and the closest thing she had to a sister. Certainly, she needed her input. At this point, she was terrified of Deven. Not physically of course, but emotionally. He was getting to her, the real her that she kept secret from everyone. The only time she even accepted that woman was in the dark of night when her subconscious flung her there and made her admit her needs as a flesh-and-blood woman. She rinsed her mug and his in the sink and dried her hands. Charyn walked to the bathroom, leaving her and Makenzie alone.

Charli was really lost and she didn’t know how to describe how she felt to her best friend. All she knew was that it just felt so good, so natural, that it would make her bitter to lose this. The feeling of screaming orgasms mingled with the emotions that he was forcing her to experience. Her history with men wasn’t lurid and filled with numerous sexcapades. Mostly it was dry spells, broken by brackish river water. Certainly Deven was the first clean taste of pure man she’d ever gotten. The difference was astounding. Now she understood why Mak ran scared from Charyn last year after they made love for the first time. Makenzie was afraid that she had fallen head over heels in love with a man who was destined to leave her with a broken heart and ducked town for a few days. Her flight forced Charyn to chase her down and show her that she wasn’t alone, since he loved her as much as she loved him. For Charli, it was terrifying, the idea of falling for such a potent male. She was terrified at the idea that she might give everything that she had to him and then find out later it wasn’t enough to keep him for good. Before she knew why her best friend fled town as fast as a car would carry her, but understanding was something that ran much deeper than simple knowledge.

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