IF I WERE YOUR WOMAN (20 page)

“If I were your woman,” she crooned, “and you were my man.”

Ray’s eyes slid shut. He stroked his hands down her back. Months of wanting but denying, and needing but not having, was in the past. He stopped their movements and framed her face with his hands.

“Take your clothes off,” Laney whispered against his lips, her fingers in all-out combat with the buttons on his shirt.

Ray didn’t want to rip the wrappings off this package too fast. She meant too much to him to rush.  She’d taught him patience. And her courage both stunned and humbled him. She didn’t play games. She simply knew and accepted. 

No, he had to take his time tonight. This woman, his woman, was made to be loved. She was made to be savored and cherished.

His mouth closed on hers and his tongue moved into hers in a deep rhythm she instinctively accepted. The slow movement of her hips against his throbbing erection caused a pressure so great he thought his head might explode. A low, rough growl erupted from the back of his throat, and he turned her around. The dress slid off her shoulders, and he planted open mouth kisses at the base of her neck, his tongue dotting at the freckles scattered along her collarbone. No, the cancer hadn’t killed him, but the need to touch her might if his hands didn’t connect with the silky texture of her skin soon. Ray tried not to be rough and eased the dress away, followed by everything else.

His shirt went first. He bent and slipped off his shoes and socks, then straightened and unbuckled his belt. Without hesitation, he pushed down his pants and silk underwear and stepped free of them. The aching passion he’d had for her for so long surged to full strength when he crushed her against the mattress.

Laney squirmed against the sheets, but she never once looked away. Love and passion collided head-on and she opened her arms to him. “Hurry,” she whispered.

He laughed a little, although there wasn’t an ounce of humor in the sound. Instead, he touched her breasts, gently squeezing them. With exquisite slowness, his fingers rubbed at the nipples until they stood upright, then he bent over to kiss the enticing buds. Her breathing had changed; it was deeper now. A flush warmed her skin and a fierce masculine satisfaction flooded him knowing it was his touch that made her look and sound this way.

His hands stroked down her body, savoring the silky texture of her skin, shaping the curves and indentations from the swell of her breast to the flat surface of her stomach. A powerful finger slide over the triangle of reddish curls, then slipped into the softness of her folds, stroking her to delirium.

“Raphael,” she whimpered with frantic need as her eyes slid shut.

“Hold tight,
mon ange
.” He gently cupped her face in his hands. “Look at me, baby.”

Maybe it was her raspy moan. Maybe it was the way her legs fell open in welcome invitation. Maybe it was the shudder that raced down his spine when he heard her sweet voice whisper, “
Je t’aime
.”

Every thread of willpower he had nearly vanished, but he reined in control, barely. 

The needed to taste and sample the sweetness of her mouth was up next. He made love to her mouth with long, deep thrusts of his tongue. His lips found the fragrant hollow of her throat. He lingered there for a long time until his hands knotted the sheets when her hips surged against his throbbing sex.

Ray positioned himself over her and framed her face once again. In the past, when he had sex, he always used protection. There wasn’t a need for that now because tonight, he wasn’t having sex. For the first time in his life, he was making love. He pushed into her body slowly, deeply, his face only inches away. Then realization dawned.

He didn’t say a word, didn’t ask any questions.

Tears seeped along her cheeks as her body stretched to accept him, touching a place in his heart no other woman had ever found before. Ray licked the salty wetness away and kissed her, his buttocks flexing to exert more pressure until her barrier gave way. He waited for her body to relax, waited for the acceptance of this new intrusion.

“I’m honored your first time was mine,” he whispered and began to move, with a slight rock that only nudged him back and forth, at best.

He took exceptional care with her, tempering the power of his thrusts to a slow, easy pace, even though anticipation clawed at him. Sweat beaded his taunt face and the slow roll of her hips drove him mad. He moved with her, overwhelmed by the glory of the dance, their race to ecstasy, and the precious gift she’d just given him. 

“Raphael,” she moaned in a thin, questioning tone.

“Let it go,
mon ange
,” he groaned, his climax only a heartbeat away. Pleasure beyond description raked his body. He dropped his head, his body convulsing from his own powerful release. 

He cradled her afterwards, stroking her with shaky hands. She was so quiet and still. He trailed his fingers along her cheek. “
Mon ange,
talk to me
?”

Tears pooled in her eyes and her simple response said it all. “At last.”

~ ~ ~

A soft morning light filtered across the room the next morning. Laney opened her eyes, acutely aware of how Raphael’s fingertips rolled her nipples back and forth until they hardened.  

Ray leaned on his side, bracing his weight on his elbow. Noticing the passion in her eyes fueled his. He slid his hand down the flatness of her stomach until it rested between her legs.

“Raphael…please.”

“You’re sore. Let’s wait a while.”

Laney smiled. She was greedy and wanted it all, wanted everything this man had to give. She loved him. She always had. He’d claimed her body, and in return, had given her his own. Last night she’d been opened up to a new world. This morning she felt like an adventurer in search of a hidden treasure. There was so much to see and do, and she quivered with excitement. “I don’t want to wait.”

Her gaze roamed his face. Bald and lean, he was every bit as gorgeous now as he was before the cancer. She’d longed for the freedom to explore his body and touched the curve of his shoulder. Her hand grew hot from the warmth of his skin. She focused on his hairless chest and ran her hand across it. She found a nipple. The tiny point on the flat brown circle hardened at her touch. Boldness made her gently scrape her fingernail over the tip.

A deep rumble worked its way up from deep in his chest. “Girl, you gonna make the wave come in too soon.”

Her morning voice sounded husky and sexy. “Don’t worry, darling. When it comes, I’ll be riding it.”

Ray rolled to his back and spread his arms and legs wide. “Surf’s up.”

Temptation gave way to boldness and she rose to her knees, her nudity exposed for his eyes to see and hopefully, enjoy. 

Laney ran both hands over the smoothness of his bald head. There was actually more masculinity to him now than before.  “You’re a beautiful man, Raphael Baptiste.”

Slowly, her hands drifted from his head and lay flat against his chest. With her thumbs, she circled both nipples this time and felt them hardened again. She looked down at him. “Does that feel good?”

Ray swallowed hard. His chest expanded with such force, the rush of air escaping his lungs hurt. “
Oui
.”

Laney focused her attention back to the man beneath her. She leaned forward and circled a nipple with the tip of her tongue. His groan caused her to shudder, but not before she gave the same loving treatment to the other. Her hand slipped down to his rib cage. She let them glide up to his hairless armpits. He’d not only lost his dreads, but his body hair as well.

“
Mon ange
,” Ray uttered in a strangle voice. He sucked his breath in and prayed for control. He would hand over everything he owned to touch her right now. He’d never felt anything so agonizingly wonderful, yet so exquisitely gentle in all his life. He grabbed the mattress and dug his fingers into them. This was her show, and he had a feeling it would be a long time before the final curtain call.

Laney let her hands follow a path down the center of his belly, stopping briefly at his navel, then moved until it land at his erection. Her fingers curled gently around the length of him. He was thick and the thought of taking him inside of her again caused her to breathe in soft, hurried pants. Gently, she cupped his testicles and held them until his back arched. He was gorgeous there, too. 

Ray shook from head to toe. “Have mercy,” he pleaded.

Laney closed her eyes against the overwhelming surge of passion, pleasure, and victory. She wanted to feel the confidence of knowing she’d pleased her man. Yes, she was sore, but her indulgence far out-weighed the discomfort. She straddled him, and her tender flesh stretched as she took him in, inch by tantalizing inch. The feeling was so intense, she lifted herself off him again, and again, and again.

“Red…” Ray fisted the sheets and sweat popped out on his forehead. Every time she slid down, she only took half of him. Somehow, he managed to get a glimpse of her face. God, she was pretty. She was concentrating on learning her own pleasure and it was all right by him. He received as much pleasure, if not more, watching her become acquainted with her own sexuality.
Dear Jesus, please let her hurry…

“Raphael,” she moaned. She braced her hands on his chest and rocked back and forth, increasing the rhythm until she felt the faint spark of release. A sob broke from her lips as she cried out, “Now?”

“Drop it like it’s hot.” He released the sheets and grabbed her hips, surging upward and pushed himself to the hilt. When she clamped her inner muscles around him, he came on the first stroke, growling out his release until it was over, and she lay limply on top of him.

Ray cradled her afterward, stroking her back. She lifted her head and smiled at him.

He smiled back.

And then Raphael Baptiste made love to Laney Houston.

~ ~ ~

Friday afternoon after returning from the pre-op visit, Ray and Laney sat quietly on the front porch swing at Olivia. He put his arm around her and brought her closer, so that her head was nestled in the hollow of his neck. He lifted up a silent prayer of thanks.

“Darling, is everything okay,” she asked.

“Just thinking about the surgery. It’s two days away.”

“I know.” Without lifting her head, she asked, “How do you feel?”

“Sacred,” he replied honestly.

“Are you scared of the surgery or learning the results of the surgery?”

“Both,” Ray said quietly.

For a moment, the only sound came from the creaking of the swing. Ray leaned and kissed the top of her head and tightened his arms around her. The chemo was over, but had it worked? He was a man who had everything money could buy, but it couldn’t buy health. He reached down and picked a folder off the porch and handed it to Laney.

After scanning the first page, Laney looked up at him. “This is your will.”

“Just in case…everything I’ve got is yours.” He was silent for a long time. “Don’t think I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for me,
mon ange
,” he uttered in a hoarse, strangled voice. “Most women would’ve walked…”

Laney wound her arms around his neck. Crying was something she seldom did. Suddenly, the enormity of what they’d gone through the last several months and the strain they’d faced together swept over her. Her chest tightened. She fought hard to keep her composure, but lost the battle. She released a wrenching sob and clung to him as her body shook from emotion.

Ray was more than surprised by her tears. He was dumbfounded. His Laney was a fighter. She’d done for him what her grandmother had done for her. She’d poured everything she had into him and his battle against cancer. All he could do now was pray he’d won.

Her tears pierced a hole in his heart. He didn’t try to stop her. She needed the release. Instead, he allowed his own tears to fall as he rubbed her back, whispering to her his thanks for all she’d done. It took a long time for her to regain her composure. With the tip of his finger, he tipped her chin up. Her eyelids were swollen, and she looked exhausted, but he’d never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. Passion glazed her eyes, making the heavy and slumberous. He leaned and kissed her with all the pent up desire he’d felt for her from the day he first laid eyes on her.

“Raphael?”

“Yeah,
mon a
nge
.”

“When was the last time you prayed?”

Until he was diagnosed with cancer, it was something he hadn’t done often enough. “Lately, I’ve been tying up the prayer line.”

“You do know what your name means, don’t you?”

Ray shook his head sideways. “No, you got me on that one. What does it mean?”

Suddenly, a peace hugged her spirit and Laney knew her prayers had been answered. Finally, she whispered, “God has healed.”

~ ~ ~

Sunday morning, Ray quietly opened the church door and took a seat in the next to the last pew. This morning, he’d awaken and discovered an empty bed. He figured Laney had gone to church.

His eyes connected with T. J. who’d spotted him first. Their gazes held and Ray smiled, slightly tipping his head forward. A crease settled in the middle of his forehead when T. J. glanced over the choir stand and beckoned Laney with his hand. What was that all about? The next thing he knew, Laney stood in front of the microphone next to the piano.