ROMANCE: Billion Dollar Question (BWWM Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (African American Alpha Mail Order Bride New Adult) (63 page)

Chapter 2: The Softest Touch

“Shh...” Celeste cooed touching Eric's face softly. She had heard his fitful sleep all the way upstairs in her office. Then the cry of her name rang out through the house and she had bolted down the stairs. Kneeling by the sofa, she stroked his thick brown hair. Her brother had done a tour in Iraq and was still recovering from the nasty side effects of war-induced PTSD.

Eric's handsome face was contorted in pain and fear, but it did little to take away the masculine beauty and strength of his features. His muscular chest and abs fell and rose rapidly and she could feel his pulse racing through his body. She wasn't sure how to wake him or if she even should.

Celeste was well aware of how prideful men could be after her last marriage fell apart when she began to make more money than her husband. Eric jerked in her sleep drawing her full attention back to him.

“Shhh..” she cooed again trying to gently wake him. “You're back on American soil. You're safe.”

“Celeste!” Eric startled awake. “Sorry.. I..”

“You don't have to explain anything,” she said keeping the concern from her voice.

She watched as Eric surveyed his surroundings and then his cheeks began to tint red. His eyes went stoic and she took a deep breath. She wanted to tell him not to be embarrassed, but knew that would only make the situation worse.

“Care for drink?”

“Bring me the strongest you've got.”

“You'll have to settle for a beer for now,” she laughed. “If I bring you home trashed, I'll never hear the end of it. After the party if you want something harder I'll hand over the key to my liquor cabinet.”

“If the driveway is just the beginning of guests arriving, I might have to take you up on that offer.”

“I was hoping you would,” she grinned as she walked into the kitchen.

Once inside the kitchen, she waited a few moments before opening the fridge. She wanted to give Eric a moment to collect himself. If she knew him better she'd offer a listening ear, but didn't want to over step herself. Sure, he may have had the nightmare on her sofa, but she had only met him hours before.

After enough time had passed, she grabbed a beer for Eric and a bottle of water for herself and headed back into the living room. Eric was sitting with his eyes closed and his long legs stretched out in front of him. His arms rested behind his head. She watched the muscles of his chest and stomach slowly rise and fall. One day, he was going to make a very lucky woman a very happy wife.

She sat down next to him and he opened his eyes. He grinned at her revealing a dimple on either side of his mouth.

“You have beer, but you don't drink?” he said motioning to the bottle of water as she handed off the beer.

“I do drink,” she laughed, “just not when I have to go to a party where I don't know most of the people.”

“We should switch,” he laughed. “I'll pretend I don't know any of them and you can go around acting like you know everyone and get pissed off when they insist they don't know you.”

“What are we having a contest of who can win their white jacket first?”

“It might be quieter in a padded room than at home right now.”

“Maybe we can sneak out early.”

“I like how you think,” Eric laughed and playfully bumped his shoulder against hers.

The party was worse than Celeste imagined it was going to be. It was standing room only and even then she couldn't move her arms to take a drink without touching someone else. She had planned to be a wallflower and just wait it out to the end, but Eric wasn't having any of it.

As he was ushered around by his mother to talk to relatives and old friends, he took Celeste along for the trip. There were plenty of hushed voices of people reminding one another not to bring up the war or what he might had seen across sea.

Eric gave her a knowing look and all she could do was roll her eyes at them sympathetically. His mother had outdone herself with dinner and kept offering Eric seconds and thirds. When desert finally arrived, most of the party goers were a couple beers in and had forgotten their vows not to bring up things he might not want to discuss.

“So were the locals as bad as the news say?” an uncle asked.

“Did you kill anyone?” a teenage boy asked from across the table.

“You guys leave him alone,” an old man warned. “You don't bother him about the enemy. That's not the men who deserve to be remembered. You wanna hear stories you ask him about the men who served with him and gave their lives for this country.”

“Actually, Grandpa, I don't want to talk about them either. I don't want to talk about any of it.”

“People are going to keep asking until you give them answers.”

“Well, screw them, and screw you all too,” he said standing up.

Celeste reached out to touch his arm, but pulled away before she did. They weren't a couple. They were friends at best and near strangers. Eric took her hand before it reached the table. Her heart skipped beat as his strong warm fingers entwined through hers.

“We're leaving,” he said.

She stood up and his mother looked from him to her. Her eyes pleading with Celeste to smooth things over.

“But you haven't finished dessert, Eric,” the older woman says.

“I'll take it with me,” Eric said lifting an entire pie in his free hand.

He led Celeste out the backdoor and across their lawns until they reached her porch. His grip was firm, but gentle.

“I hope that offer for the keys to your liquor cabinet is still good.”

“Only if you share your pie,” she grinned at him and unlocked the door.

She laid the keys to the cabinet on the kitchen table and stepped out of her shoes. Eric rested his hands against the counter and took deep breaths.

“Can I touch you?” Celeste said gently reaching out a hand.

He didn't look at her, but nodded. She wrapped her arms around his stomach and rested her head on his back. His body trembled and she held him tighter. A few minutes later, he turned to face her and she took a step back.

“Sorry, I'm walking all over your hospitality and I just met you today.”

“Don't be,” she smiled. “You brought pie.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” she said sitting down at the kitchen table.

“Are you being nice because you feel sorry for me?”

“I don't do pity, Eric,” she said. “I do respect and maybe even admiration for the men who serve our country, but I don't do pity.”

“Thanks,” he nodded.

“Besides not many women could pass up the chance to eat a whole pie with a sexy marine,” she winked at him as he sat down at the table.

“So that's your plan then,” he chuckled. “You're going to get me drunk and seduce me.”

“No, Eric, if I seduced, you'd be sober so you could remember every little thrilling moment.”

He tensed and Celeste instantly regretted what she said.

“Sorry,” she muttered getting up to get plates and forks.

“Don't be,” he smiled.

After the pie was gone Celeste pushed the key towards him, “It's all yours for tonight.”

“I think you were right when you said stick to the beer,” he laughed.

“Alright,” she said pointing the fridge, “it's all yours too, but just try not to eat me out of house and home.”

They took their beers out onto the back patio and for a long time Eric was quiet. The sun was setting and his guests were beginning to leave. Several of them shook their heads and whispered to each other when they saw saw the two of them together.

“They think we fucked,” Eric laughed.

“I don't think that's what they're thinking,” Celeste blushed. “I don't think that's the first thing most people assume.”

“Maybe not,” he laughed looking up at the sky, “but at least then I won't have to be angry at them. It's just messed up. The whole damn party was just a ploy so they could hear horror stories and go home tonight thankful that it wasn't them that had to go through it. They act like I owed them answers.”

“You don't owe them a damn thing,” Celeste said. “You served your country. You did your part. They don't need to know the details. It'll only keep them up at night anyway.”

“Did your dad serve?”

“No, my brother. He was a marine too. He's home now and started his own business online.”

“Is this where you suggest that we should get together and swap war stories?”

“No, this is where I ask you not to bring it up if you ever meet him. He served his country. He did the right thing, but now he just wants to move on.”

“I know that feelin'.”

“So what do you want to do now?”

“Tonight?”

“Well, yeah, and tomorrow and the day after that,” Celeste laughed.

“Damn woman,” Eric shook his head.

“What?”

“Your laughter is more intoxicating than the beer.”

“I should bottle it then and become filthy rich.”

“Then we could buy an island.”

“And anyone who annoyed us could be put out to sea.”

Eric was quiet for a moment and then locked his gaze to hers. She gave him a coy smile and winked at him.

“This may be the beer talking,” he said leaning closer to her.

Celeste tilted her head and parted her lips. How would it feel to be wrapped in his arms and have his lips pressed hard against hers? She blushed realizing that she was getting ahead of herself.

“Would you slap me if I kissed you?”

“I guess there's only one way to find out.”

Sitting his beer aside, Eric closed the space between him. One strong warm hand caressed her cheek as their lips met. He was hesitant to open up at first, but Celeste wrapped her arm around his neck and parted her lips moving hard against his. Eric's tongue darted hungrily into her mouth and danced with her own. Her pulse raced and she never wanted the kiss to end.

Celeste ran her fingers through his thick hair and she sighed into the kiss. Her free hand trailed over his chest and stomach reveling in the feeling of his muscles quivering at her touch. When the kiss broke she was wet and pretty sure that Eric was hard too.

He stayed close to her with their foreheads touching. His eyes were still closed, but a bit of the tension was gone from his face. His fingers moved softly over her cheek as he opened her eyes.

“That was nice,” he smiled. “Over there,” Eric paused for a second, “over there it's the little things you miss the most like a round of drinks or how carpet feels under your bare feet. How it feels to have an attractive woman flirting with you and how great it finally feels to kiss her.”

Celeste kissed him again. This time she moved from her chair onto his lap. She was right. He was was rock hard. Eric wrapped his arms around her waist and deepened the kiss. His hands trailed up and down her sides before one came to rest on her breast.

“We better take this inside,” she whispered not wanting his spying mother to bare witness to anything that might transpire between them.