And he could tell she was bothered by something. He combed his fingers through her hair. “What's on your mind, sweetheart?”
Sonya met Mike's gaze and inwardly cursed. He could read her so well at times. “The wedding.”
He frowned slightly. “What about the wedding? I thought things went extremely well.”
She nodded. “They did. But there were some behind-the-scenes things going on.”
He lifted a brow. “Involving your parents?”
She nodded again. “Namely, Suzette and my mother. I didn't get a chance to ask Courtney about it, but I think Suzette may have insulted Mom ⦠again.” She pulled out of his arms, disgusted. “Damn it, Mike, I should have put my foot down and insisted that Dad either leave that witch at home or not come.”
“But he's your father.”
“Who's married to a woman young enough to be his daughter. A woman who broke up my parents' marriage andâ”
He reached out and placed a finger to her lips, hushing the rest of her words. “I really don't want to hear about your parents' problems on my wedding night.”
She frowned. “You're the one who asked what was bothering me.”
“Now I wish I hadn't. Your parents have to work out their own issues, Sonya. Starting tonight as my wife, you'll have your hands full taking care of me.”
Sonya's frown deepened, and she placed her hands on her hips. She glared up at him. “I don't think so.”
Mike smiled, liking the fire that suddenly sparked to life in her eyes. “I do.”
He reached out and pulled her into his arms, and although she tried protesting at first, the moment his mouth touched hers, she let out a soft, quiet, surrendering moan. He deepened the kiss, and she placed her arms around muscular broad shoulders. Some men kissed women. Mike, Sonya always thought, made it a point to do more than that. He made love to her lips with the same technique, precision, and detail that he made love to her body. The thought of what role she would play in his life from this day forward made butterflies skim through her belly. She was his woman. He was her man.
He pulled back slightly. “And what do you think now?” he asked against moist lips, his blue eyes twinkling.
She pressed her body to his, rubbed against it some, and smiled when she heard him groan. “I think it's really terrible of you to piss me off on my wedding night and then try smoothing it over with a few kisses,” she said, leaning closer to nibble him on the ear.
He swept her off her feet and into his arms, quickly moving toward the bed. He gave her a look and said, “I'll have the next three weeks to make up for it.”
Courtney looked at herself in the full-length mirror. For her date with Harper, she had chosen to wear something sleek, stylish, and seductive. Her hair was pinned up, and the outfit she had purchased last month on a shopping trip with Sonya was just the thing to wear tonight. It was a revealing black mesh dress with definite sex appeal. It had a double-V neckline that bared her shoulders and a below-the-knee hem trimmed in ruffles. And the feminine strappy sandals on her feet added the final touch.
She would be the first to admit she was nervous about tonight. This would be her first date in quite some time. For months she had been studying for an exam that would take her to the next level of her career. She was eyeing a regional sales director positionâhad been for the past year before finally taking the steps to achieve that goal.
Being busy for the past months had kept her parents' problems at the back of her mind. Other than studying, the only other thing she'd squeezed in time for was her responsibilities as a mentor to fourteen-year-old Jetrica Edwards.
She frowned. Jetrica had not kept their appointment today. According to the principal, she had been absent from her classes, and a call to Jetrica's house indicated she had left home that morning like she was headed to school. With anyone else, Courtney might consider possible foul play, but with Jetrica, she didn't need to. Every once in a while, Jetrica enjoyed rattling her twenty-year-old sister. The sister had basically put her life on hold to raise Jetrica after their junkie of a mother was sent to prison for knocking over a drugstore with her boyfriend. Instead of showing Bethany gratitude, Jetrica went to great pains to give her sister grief.
Courtney had been talked into becoming a mentor by Vickie, her friend from high school who had been one of Jetrica's teachers last year. Vickie was one of the few who saw beyond the teen's hell-raising antics. Courtney met with the girl every second and fourth Friday of the month at the middle school Jetrica attended. After six months, she still found the teen a challenge, mainly because the girl was determined to violate every social more that existed in the world. Sometimes Courtney figured Jetrica would deliberately test her patience to see how far she could take things before Courtney snapped. What Jetrica failed to realize or hadn't quite yet discovered was that thanks to Barbara and Ron Andrews, it took a lot to make Courtney snap.
But she wouldn't let thoughts of Jetrica ruin her night. She grabbed her purse off the table on her way out the doorâit was time for her adventure to begin.
Ronald Andrews never liked repeating himself ⦠especially when it came to women. And personally he didn't understand the problem he was having with Ashira Wilson. He made no woman, other than his wife, promises, and even those he made to Barbara were challenging to keep. But he would keep them this time, since he truly believed that Barbara had meant what she said: If she even
thought
he was screwing around on her again, he was out. He had too much to lose if that were to happen. He relied too heavily on the money his wife was supplying him. Child-support payments for two different women were kicking his ass, and his personal tailor wasn't cheap. He liked nice things, he liked looking nice and was used to buying the best, more than his salary as a college professor could afford.
Luckily for him, Barbara had invested the trust fund she had gotten at twenty-five. If neither of them worked another day in their lives, all was well. But she insisted they continue to work. She supported this damn belief that as long as a person had their health, they should continue to contribute to the working environment and that an idle mind was a devil's workshop. He didn't buy into all that garbage, but he'd discovered over the past fifteen years that being a college professor had its rewards even if the salary sucked. Womenâespecially the younger
onesâwere his weakness. It was easy to find a female student who'd do just about anything for a good grade. And he meant anything. He didn't mind seeing just how far they would go.
He angrily banged on Ashira's door. There were no limits with her, even when he had suggested a threesome with an old college friend of his who'd come to town a few months ago. It was a night he would remember for a long time. She was a freakin' freak. But another thing she was proving to be was a damn pain, which was why he was standing in front of her door now. He had broken off with her weeks ago. Had made it clear he was through cheating on his wife. Had asked her not to call him, especially on his private cell phone, the one Barbara had come across a few months ago. But Ashira had called earlier today, and luckily he had intercepted the call and deleted it before Barbara had found out.
The door opened, and immediately sweat popped onto his brow. Ashira stood there, eyeing him. Not in surprise but in expectation. He should have known coming here was a mistake. Knowing Ashira, it was probably a setup. She knew his weakness, and he had a feeling that tonight she planned to take advantage of it. She opened the door with only a towel around her middle. The moment she'd seen it was him, she dropped the towel, and he all but licked his lips. He was suddenly spellbound. Hard.
She had just gotten out the shower. Beads of water still clung to her body, especially on the plump breasts he love to devour, on her belly ring, and on the tattoo on her hipbone. When his gaze shifted slightly, he even saw the
water glisten like sparkles on the hairs covering her femininity. He felt his erection grow harder. He needed to turn around and leave, but first he would have his say and make sure she understood. He didn't want her to call him. He wanted to be left alone to continue to work things out with his wife.
“Ronnie, I'm surprised to see you,” she said, stepping aside, not caring that water was dripping to the carpeted floor. It was new carpet he'd paid for a few months ago at the peak of their affair.
Although he knew he shouldn't do so, he entered her apartment anyway, picked up the towel, and tossed it aside before turning to face her. Five feet and six inches tall, she had a body that would make any man's pecker throb. “I would appreciate it if you put some clothes on,” he said in a rough tone.
She leaned back against the door in a stance that showed all: perky breasts, small waist, long legs, and a hot, wet mound. “Why?” she asked in a sultry tone. “You used to love seeing me naked. It seems like you still do.”
She dropped her gaze to the crotch of his pants to zero in on the boner he couldn't hideâan erection getting bigger, especially when she licked her lips like she wanted them there. The girl had a mouth that was made for blow jobs.
He sighed deeply, refusing to let his mind and body think about that now. “Things have changed. I've told you that. Why are you deliberately trying to cause trouble?”
She pushed away from the door and took a few steps toward him and stopped. “Because I don't think you really
want to end things between us. We're good together. I understand you a lot better than that woman you're married to. I bet she's never given you a blow job, has never let you get her from the back, never let you share her with a good friend. Every man needs a little kinky stuff once in a while. A good wife would know that and indulge her man. There's a reason you seek others out. There's something you're not getting at home.”
He would not agree with her aloud, although everything she'd said was true. He did enjoy the kinky once in a while and would never ask Barbara to indulge him. His wife was born and bred to be a lady, not a luscious pecker-loving man-eater. Hell, he would admit his lovemaking sessions with Barbara lacked creativity. He came. She came. But they had to put a lot of work into it. But still, he knew what side of his bread was buttered ⦠and by whom. “My wife is all the woman I need.”
“Since when?” she asked with a smirk on her face. “If that was true, why were you screwing my brains out until a few months ago?”
“You were available.”
Her smile meant she took that as a compliment. “Yes, and I'm still available. I'm also hot and wet tonight.”
He shook his head. In his pockets, his hands were shaking. His erection was throbbing and aching. He could pick up her scent. He could almost taste it on his tongue. She liked to smear some of that fruity stuff inside her, and he enjoyed licking it away.
The next thing he knew, she had moved and was standing right in front of him, deliberately pressing up
against him. He could feel her hot naked flesh through his clothes. “Do you really want me to believe that you don't want me, Ronnie?”
He knew he needed to step back, put some distance between them, get out of the range of her heat. But he couldn't do it. Her hot sex could home in on his shaft like radar. This woman above all others was destined to be his downfall. At times she could be overbearing, demanding, excessively jealous, and more often than not, she towed an uncivilized line, especially when she got her freak on. And he hated admitting that those were the times he enjoyed her the most because she would do just about anything to please him, excite him.
“Do you, Ronnie?” Her hand had slid down to his crotch and was cupping him, holding firm to his hard erection that was still growing under her hand. “Do you really not want me? Let me prove you're wrong by freeing this. I'll wrap my tongue around it, take it into my mouth, and give you the relief you need, that I know you want.”
Her erotic words, the heat of her touchâeven through his pantsâhad him not thinking straight. Hell, he couldn't think at all. With a mind of their own, his hands wrapped around her waist. She let go of him and ground her body against his. “When you leave here tonight, you'll know just where I stand ⦠just where I lay. And just who Pretty Boy prefers. Who makes him the most happy.”
Pretty Boyâthat was the name she'd given his pecker the first time she saw it. Said it was pretty, big, and could definitely handle a man-size job every time. At fifty-three,
he'd never had a problem getting Pretty Boy up and keeping it there. Its staying power amazed him at times. He was proud of that, since some of the guys he knew his age were dependent on Viagra. But not him. Ashira was twenty-three, thirty years his junior, and she could have any young buck out there, but instead she wanted him. She had explained that older men turned her on and that age was nothing but a number. He'd loved proving her right.
She suddenly dropped to her knees in front of him, began tearing off his belt, unzipping his pants, working her way inside his briefs. Then she pulled out his engorged shaft, and her mouth immediately and greedily latched on to it. He shut his eyes, held his breath as his body came alive underneath her mouth. Sensations beginning at his groin rammed through every part of him. His heart began racing as he threw his head back and let out a deep, satisfied moan. He needed this one last time. The feel of her gobbling him up. He knew he should push her away. Instead he caught hold of her head and securely held it in place while her mouth continued its work.
It didn't take long for his already messed-up mind to begin whirling. Then his shaft exploded when a climax hit, and she still didn't let him up. Instead she took it all like she needed it to survive. She was pulling everything out of him, draining him, taking it in. Tonight she would get just what she wanted. And he would get just what he needed.
Moments later she dragged her mouth from his shaft and stood, fixed her gaze on him while licking her lips.
His shaft was throbbing. Was up again already. He tore off his shirt, kicked off his shoes, finished undressing with the speed of lightning. Then he shoved her unceremoniously down on the floor, on her stomach, and before she could move, he was on his knees on top of her. Tilting up her ass to him, he rammed his shaft into it, taking full domination of her sex. Even the gigantic orgasm he'd gotten hadn't been enough, and this was his favorite position. One where he felt in control, he could square off with her and win every time.
He continued to thrust into her, showing no mercy because he knew she was getting just what she wanted; this was the reason she'd called him to come over. She tilted her head back and cried out his name, but he kept going, refusing to let up. Then another climax struck, one that almost stopped his breathing. It also strengthened his resolve to take her again. As soon as that orgasm ended, he flipped her on her back and was ramming into her from the front.
“I haven't gotten enough yet,” was the only reason he could give her for his actions.
“Good, because I want more,” she said, staring up at him with that look on her face that let him know that tonight her body was greedy as hell.
A thought suddenly forced its way into his mind: He was cheating on Barbara again, after swearing on his mother's grave that he would not. But he refused to keep thinking of that now. He was between a pair of young legs and getting all he wanted, the way he wanted. He was glad this was the night Barbara and her sister Peggy were
meeting for dinner. That would give him time to return home, shower, and be in the bed before she got back.
But for now, this was what he wanted to concentrate on, and he knew, just like Ashira did, that no matter what he'd said before, what claims he'd made of wanting to end things between them, he was addicted to this and he would be back.
“So, you've decided to work things out with Ron ⦠again.”