DUTCH AND GINA: A SCANDAL IS BORN (20 page)

BOOK: DUTCH AND GINA: A SCANDAL IS BORN
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“I’m just anxious.”

“Stop being anxious, just stay observant.
 
And when the conditions are right, all you have to do is call and say it’s time, and just do what you’re supposed to do.
 
Understand me?”

“I understand.
 
Don’t talk to me like I’m a child.”

“Then stop acting like one,” Caroline said and hung up the phone.

Nurse Riley held the phone in her hand a moment longer, glanced once again at the couple that was still embracing, and then turned her attention back to Little Walt; back to this zebra of a child she still wondered was even worth all of this fuss he was about to cause.

 

 

 

 

FIFTEEN

 

While Dutch and Gina were walking the estate grounds, Crader was showing first Christian his room and then LaLa hers, with both rooms on the second floor, with both rooms, like all of Crader’s rooms, with a sweeping view of the Atlantic Ocean. Only he didn’t just show LaLa her room.
 
As soon as they entered, he closed the door and in one swift swoop had her back against it.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, moving so close to her that there was barely any daylight left between them.

“Why didn’t you call me,” she asked him, doing all she could to keep her emotions in check, “if you missed me so much?”

He nodded, breathing hard, moving closer.
 
“You’re right,” he said.
 
“I should have taken the time.
 
But that’s why I told the president to invite you.
 
I had a crisis in one of my plants.
 
My day began at five and didn’t end until well after midnight.
 
Having chitchats on the phone wasn’t going to work.”

“It would have, if you cared enough.”

He stared at her.
 
If she only knew how much he cared.
 
That was the real reason why he didn’t call, because he was terrified at how much he was beginning to care.
 
“You don’t think I care?” he asked, a little peeved that she didn’t get it.

LaLa could sense his growing heat, could feel his expanding penis.
 
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
 
“Do you?”

“Do I?” he asked, staring at her full, gorgeous, African lips; lips women he knew were having plastic surgery to emulate when hers were the real deal, the genuine article.
 
“What do you think?” he asked her as his lips smothered hers.

And all pretenses were off.
 
All conversations were over.
 
They kissed like the sex starved lovers they were becoming.
 
Even Crader, who couldn’t remember a time when he spent an entire week without having sex with some female, hadn’t even wanted to touch another woman after that day he made love to LaLa.
 
He wanted LaLa.
 
And by the way she was returning his kisses she, to his relief, wanted him too.

He unbuttoned her jeans and dropped them, along with her panties, down to her knees as he continued to kiss her.
 
He unbuttoned his own jeans and dropped them too as he continued to kiss her.
 
He snatched down to her navel her loose-fitting blouse, and then her bra, as he continued to kiss her.

And just as LaLa was getting into his rhythm, just as her kisses were matching his completely, he pinned her legs against his hips, gaped her legs open, and put his body between them.
 
He started massaging her womanhood with his two fingers, looking her dead in the eye to see her reaction.
 
And she reacted immediately, grabbing him around the neck as she felt the sensuality to the roots of her hair.

He carried her over to the bed, her jeans and panties dropping to her feet, as he laid her on top of the bed and continued, with his tongue instead of his fingers, to massage her.
 
It seemed surreal to LaLa, that they could be in a house with the President of the United States and were doing this, but it didn’t seem to faze Crader for one second.
 
And why should it, she thought, as his tongue began to flutter her clit, causing her to arch, when it was his house to begin with?

Crader stood up, tossed off his shirt and then stepped out of his pants and boxers, and then he moved on top of her, kissing her breasts and neck and ear.
 
“I want to enter you raw, baby,” he whispered to her as he kissed her.
 
“I want your pussy to feel every inch of my rod, I want it desperately.
 
Please let me enter you raw?
 
Will you?”

It was a question that she spent her entire life answering as no.
 
No way was any man, other than her husband, entering her without a condom.
 

But the way he kept kissing her breasts, and her neck, and the way he held his masculine scent and she wanted it so badly, she wanted to feel his bare rod just as badly as he wanted her to feel it.
 

But a man who would make love to her back in DC, and then claim to not have enough time in a day to pick up a phone and at least call to see if she was still alive, was a man she knew was going to be a handful.
 
And probably had asked this question of more women than she wanted to even imagine.

Her head, therefore, screamed hell no.
 
But her heart, and her vagina, and every fiber of her being weren’t trying to hear that scream.

But she heard it.
 
“No,” she said.
 
“We can’t.”

“Yes, we can’t, baby,” he said, still whispering.
 
“You use birth control, don’t you?”

She did, but that wasn’t her only worry.
 
“Yes, but---”

“You’ll be the first, I promise you, La.”
 

This stunned her.
 
“I’ll be the first?
 
You expect me to believe that?”

“It’s true,” Crader said honestly.
  
“I’ve never trusted a woman enough to go raw.
 
Not the ones I’ve been intimate with.”
 
It was, in fact, the very reason he was intimate with them: they didn’t want strings, and neither did he.
 
“You’re the first,” he added.

But LaLa still felt torn.
 
Men would promise anything to get some, and she knew it.
 
She wasn’t naïve.

But this was Crader, the man she had decided, after allowing him to make love to her the first time, was a man she could very well love.
 
He was, after all, that same man she felt a connection to just by watching on television.
 
A man who had treated her with nothing but respect all the times they did hang out together.
 

And besides, she reasoned, a man like him, who never cared for encores just as Gina said, was already on seconds with her.
 

And she told him yes, he could take her raw.
 
Yes, she told him, and braced herself, not only for the magnificent wave of passion he was about to give to her, but for the ultimate, bumpy ride she could just sense he was going to take her on.

Crader could hardly contain himself when she gave her permission.
 
This is what he wanted. This was what he’d been dreaming about doing to her the entire time she was out of his sight.
 

She hadn’t thought about a raw entry, because her dreams of him were more about getting to know him better and falling in love with him, but she welcomed it now.
 
Because she arched her more than ready body even more as he did as she had hoped he would do, and shoved it in.

“Aaah,” he said like an exhale when his flesh entered hers and her juices immediately began to greet his engorging rod with a splash of saturation.

And although he was sweet and gentle the first time they mated, this time was different.
 
This time he was rough.
 
Not because he wanted to be, not because he did it like that, but because his control broke as soon as he felt her rawness, and he couldn’t help himself.

LaLa, for her part, didn’t want to him to help himself.
 
She wanted him to pound.
 
And he did, thrusting into her with steady, but frenetic grinding.
 
He held onto her tightly, and she held onto him tightly as he thrust and thrust and they found themselves making maddening, desperate, passionate love.
 

It was a risk for both of them, because neither had a clue where it all would end, but as Crader’s buttocks tightened and his penis pushed in as far as he could push, causing her to climax, causing himself to release inside of her, LaLa knew one thing for sure.
 

He now had her body, there was no way she could ever see herself turning down the chance to have sex with Crader McKenzie ever again.
 
But she was determined to have his heart.
 
It wasn’t going to be easy, not with a trust-phobic man like him, and it would require a lot of work on her part.
 
But she was willing to put the work in.
 

Because, she decided, as she looked at this naked man on top of her, with his delicious penis still deep within her, he was one of those rich, powerful, great looking louts, as Christine would probably consider him, who was well worth the work.

 

Later that night everybody assembled in the Family Room to relax and do nothing more than play games, laugh, eat, drink and be merry.
 
Dutch seemed to be having the most fun, Gina thought, as he was crawling on the floor playing with his plump, brown-skinned baby boy while the nanny looked on.
 
Here he was, the leader of the free world, playing peep-a-boo with a baby and then laughing with belly laughs whenever the baby grinned.
 
Their talk by the waterfall seemed to have done him a world of good, she thought, although, she also noticed, the man was bone tired.

Crader and Christian were playing chess, and Gina couldn’t imagine anything more boring than two men staring at a board for long stretches of time before either one of them made a move.
 

For her part, she and LaLa were at the card table in the back of the room, farthest away from the crowd, attempting to play Spades although they were mainly just talking.

“So,” Gina asked, tossing a card onto the pile, “how did it go?”

“How did what go?” LaLa asked, studying her hand.

“How did your roll in the hay go with Crader?”

LaLa looked at her.
 
“How did you--”

“I didn’t,” Gina said with a smile, causing LaLa to smile too. “But it’s really very obvious, girl.
 
At least on your part.”
 
Gina glanced at her friend when she said this.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gina hesitated.
 
“Crader’s not the marrying kind, you do understand that?”

“How do you know that?”

“Oh, come on, La.
 
The man is Dutch’s age, okay, and he’s still running around chasing skirts.”

“He was, yes, until he chased my skirt.”

“That is so lame.”

“Okay, I get what you’re saying, I get it.
 
But,” she said as she tossed out a card.

“But what?” Gina asked, studying her friend.

“But I just happen to think he’s worth giving a try.”

Gina pointed her cards at LaLa.
 
“Don’t let him hurt you.”

“I won’t.”

“He starts any of that bullshit, don’t give him all those chances you told me you gave to Dempsey. You dump his ass.”

“You know I will,” LaLa said and then watched as Gina played the next card.
 

Only LaLa didn’t
 
know a thing.
 
Because it wasn’t that simple anymore.
 
She glanced over at Crader, who was singularly concentrated on that chess board in front of him, the same jeans and jersey he had tossed off to make such passionate love to her he had tossed back on, and she knew she was easily falling in love with that man.

Besides, she thought, looking back at her friend, Gina could do all of that rah, rah, drop his ass talk.
 
She had Dutch.
 
She had the best.
 
And she was the best.
 
Her prom date would have never left her.
 
Not because she was super gorgeous, she wasn’t.
 
But because she was super good.
 
Decent.
 
The best.

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