Gerard's Beauty (17 page)

Only Betty.

His beautiful, harpy-tongued shrew.

She rocked on him. “Oh yes,” she moaned, “so good. Love...”

Gerard smashed his lips on her mouth, cutting off the lie. Knowing it for what it was because his cock was still a limp noodle. He didn’t want lies, he wanted truth. Just this once, just this night.

He coaxed her mouth open with his tongue, slipping in when she parted on a tiny pant. His hand slid down her flat belly, slipped under her shorts and found the wet center of paradise.

She grunted, pushing down, and he couldn’t think anymore. Gerard slipped a finger in.

“Harder,” she shoved down.

He slipped in another digit, stretching her, filling her. Wishing it was his cock, and not his damn fingers. Her earthy scent tickled his nose. He inhaled deeply letting it fill his lungs. “
Mon belle, mon belle
,” he murmured.

Her nails scored his back, but it felt good. So damn good. He pumped harder, and she writhed on him. “So good,” she cooed, and then her body seized, and a delirious expression wreathed her face.

Her soft center rolled with her orgasm, squeezing his fingers as her rocking slowly subsided. She laughed, kissing his chest, his neck, his face.  But he wasn’t done with her, not by a long shot.

Gerard pushed her shoulders back onto the mattress.

“Gerard?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“Open your legs,
mon belle
,” he said, voice thick with his need.

Her breathing stuttered, but she dropped her legs open, and with a deft flick of his wrists, slipped her small shorts off. The sight of her swollen pink nub made his head reel. He touched her with just the tip of her finger and she surged up in response.

“Gerard…”

Breathing hard, Gerard bit and nibbled his way up her thigh until he reached the apex of her pleasure. “Betty,” was all he could choke out before he drew her nub into his mouth and sucked hard.

She screamed, her thighs immediately clamped to the sides of his face. Gerard pulled harder, a low aching spiraled through his gut, made him woozy and weak. He wanted this woman, wanted to slam his cock into her slick warmth, and never come out again.

He rolled her nub around his tongue. Her scent flooded his mouth, better than any wine. She tasted of tart strawberries.

“Oh, Gerard,” she moaned over and over, making his blood heat to a fevered frenzy.

Her thighs shook, and he lapped at her like a cat with cream, then he shoved two fingers back inside her and flexed so that his fingers massaged the center of her pleasure, and she yelled his name as she ground her hips hard against his face.

Moaning, twisting, she pumped on him up and down. Her thighs shook violently, but he didn’t dare move, accepting her gift, only wishing her could give her so much more.

After what seemed an eternity, she flung her hand across her face and laughed, pain flooded his testicles and he hissed, needing desperately to relieve the ache of being pent up for so long. But relief would not be his, and the reminder of the curse pissed him off, cleared the fog of lust, and brought with it an agony of searing pain.

“Gerard, that was…”

He jerked back, and with a withering glare, stalked to the bathroom, shutting the door. Shutting her out.

He slammed his fist against the wall. His flaccid cock offered him no release. His blood sang, his head swam, and the throbbing was excruciating. His balls were tight orbs against his body, pulsing hot and hard down his legs, making him weak in the knees.

“Gerard,” her soft voice echoed hollowly through the door.

Gnashing his teeth, he slammed his fist into the wall again. He wanted her. She’d called him her slave earlier, and gods he was. He hated himself. Hated her.

“Go away, Betty. Just go the hell away.”

Chapter 16

Betty stuck a book on a shelf.

“Betty! Wrong shelf, for like the thousandth time!” Trisha snapped Betty from her mournful thoughts.

“What?” She frowned.

“This is a medical reference book,” Trisha dangled the red hardbound book in front of Betty, malachite eyes bright with annoyance, “so why the hell are you putting it in with the Encyclopedias?”

Eyes burning, throat working hard not give in to the tears threatening to let loose, Betty could only stare.

Trisha’s eyes grew wide. “Betty?”

The question in her name tipped her over, and leaning against a bookshelf she covered her eyes. “He’s leaving, Trisha. It’s all over tomorrow.”

Trisha grabbed Betty’s arms. “He dumped you?” she snarled. “That low down, worthless pathetic...”

“No,” Betty shook her head, “no, he didn’t dump me. I just, I can’t even. Oh Trisha, I’m falling for him hard and fast, and I can’t stop this, and I don’t want to.” She stared at her friend, knowing her eyes were blood shot.

Since the night Gerard had given her the best orgasm of her life, he’d been ignoring her. Refusing her entrance to his bed at night, refusing to let her even touch him. He still cooked for her, but left her food on the counter, no longer eating with her.

Betty didn’t know what she’d done wrong. She’d tried to talk with him several times, but he would turn cold and distant, and she refused to humiliate herself further. But if he wouldn’t talk to her, she couldn’t help him, and why she even still wanted to… let her know just bad she had it for him.

“I don’t understand then,” Trisha’s lips turned down in a plump frown.

Betty gave her a weak smile, and wiped up the tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just… he’s got to go home, and I’ll probably never see him again.”

Trisha’s lips tipped. To her credit she never once told Betty I-told-you-so, just enfolded her in her warm arms, and patted her back. “I’ve got a date tonight. We’re headed to Charley’s. Why don’t you guys come?”

“I’ll ask him,” Betty sniffed, knowing he’d say no.

***

The moment the front door opened, Gerard shot to his feet. He’d sat in her favorite arm chair in total dark thinking all day long, longing for her return. He was an ass, he’d ignored her for days, and not because he wanted to. But because being near her was a pain beyond any he’d ever known. She still didn’t love him, and that bothered him, not because it meant he’d die, but because it meant she didn’t feel for him what he did for her.

If all he had was tonight, then he’d enjoy it.

She stood in the door, and his greedy gaze devoured her luscious form. The tan pencil skirt hugged her slim hips, the white shirt outlined every beautiful, perfect curve of her body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and she stuttered.

He frowned as her face scrunched up. Then she was sobbing, great heaving cries that gripped his soul. Betty ran to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled him. She was warm, and smelled of vanilla, of flowers, and…

“
Cherie
, I’m so, so sorry.” The words trembled from his soul.

He let her cry, patting her back until her heaving wracks slowed down and her breathing became calm.

“Me too,” she finally whispered.

Gerard grabbed her fingers, kissing each one. “
Non
,
me petite
Cherie
. I’m a huge ass and do not deserve your tears.”

She hiccupped, hypnotic brown eyes holding his fast. “But, but… you’re still not free. I feel so much for you. I burn for you, ache for you, and you’re still not free.”

He rubbed his knuckles along her velvet cheek. “This is enough.”

She smiled, and he returned it, though his heart ached and shattered in his chest. Tonight was all they had left.

“Trisha wants to go out for drinks,” Betty said, “I don’t want to stay out long, but maybe--”

He kissed her lips, wanting to linger on them, savor them. But now was not that time. Tonight, when the world was all theirs, then he’d show her and tell her what she meant to him.

“Yes,
petite
. Let’s go.”

Three hours later, they were laughing. Country music lingered in the background as around them dancers swayed and groups talked. Betty nursed the same glass of white wine. His little featherweight. Her laugh was free of the cloud of pain, of the heartache sure to face them in the morning. Trisha’s date was an engaging sandy haired man who seemed wild about the waifish blond. But Gerard was having a hard time focusing. He chugged his fourth tankard of beer and sighed. He wanted to take his woman home, tell her finally how he really felt.

“Let’s dance,” Trisha touched Bill… Bob’s… Harry’s?… (whatever his name was) arm. They left, leaving Gerard and Betty alone, finally.

He knuckled her cheek, needing to touch her. She sighed, leaning into him. “You want to go home?” he asked.

Funny how he now thought of that two bedroom place his, no longer could he see it as a prison. Wherever she was, he was home. Simple as that.

She nodded, brown eyes growing liquid with an unnamed emotion that made his chest ache.

Just as they stood to go say their good-bye’s to Trisha, a female shoved into Betty shoulder. At first Gerard thought her a drunkard wobbly on her feet. But when Betty’s eyes widened and she sucked in a hard breath, he tensed up.

“Gretchen?” Betty’s voice was sharp. “What the hell do you want?”

“You know your girl’s a whore, right?” The red headed woman with the most enormous pair of breasts he’d ever seen leaned around her shoulder to look at him. “She’s been sleeping with my fiancé.”

He recognized the caustic shrill tone of that voice, and instantly his nails dug into the palm of his hands. If she wasn’t a woman, he’d punch her. He pushed Betty behind him. “You’re the,
chienne
, always calling. Stay the hell away from her.”

Her blue eyes scrunched up. “The who what?” her country accent grated on his nerves, and he hated the woman, hated looking at her, hated having to share a space with her.

“Do not call. Do not talk to her. Do not,” he shoved his face right up to hers, “even look at her. She is mine!”

The woman’s jaw trembled, then a man came and slipped his arm around her shoulders.

“What’s going on?” he growled, then his eyes widened. “Betty?”

“James.” She stepped out from behind Gerard’s back and sneered.  “Why don’t you warn your little dog away from me.”

“Aww,” he grinned, and Gerard’s gut clenched as the blood rushed to his head in a red haze, “she don’t mean nuthin’ by it. Do you, G?” He chucked Gretchen’s jaw, and she grinned, popping a piece of gum, seeming more confident now that her man was in the picture.

James looked at Gerard, his upper lip curled. “Who’s this?” he jerked his chin at him.

Gerard closed his eyes, on the verge of pummeling the man. His anger so hot it oozed off him.

“Screw you, James,” Betty grabbed Gerard’s hand. “Let’s go, baby.”

His heart tripped at her endearment. She’d never called him anything other than Gerard, occasionally pig, or bastard. Never baby, never something so obviously loving.

And he might have forgotten James and his slut, if James hadn’t grabbed Betty’s elbow, jerking her to a stop.

“Hey, you can’t even talk to an old friend?” he snapped, and Gerard didn’t think.

He slammed his fist into the bastard’s face. Hot blood oozed from the crunched nose, and James dropped to the ground with a shriek. “He punched me!” he squalled, sounding like a pathetic baby crying for its
maman
.

A large man walked up to them, his arms crossed over his barrel chest, lips thin as he glared at Gerard.

Betty stood in front of Gerard. “We’re leaving. No worries.” She yanked on Gerard’s hand and walked outside. The moment the cold blast of night hit him in the face, she shoved him against the wall and laughed, a deliriously joyous sound that shivered across his skin.

“His face, did you see it?” Her brown eyes sparkled. She grabbed Gerard’s face and leaned in, planting a soft kiss on his lips. His legs grew weak and he tightened his hold on her waist, wanting to slip inside with his tongue, tasting and nipping at her delicious lower lip. Her breathing was a feather soft kiss on his lips. “I love you, Gerard Caron.”

The moment she said it, the pendant blazed deepest amethyst, there was no red, no gold, it was solid purple. He peppered her brow with kisses, her lips.

“Betty Hart,” he said.

“
One
month’s up. You are mine, Gerard
!” Galeta’s sharp voice exploded around them, then a blue hole tore through the air, and a phantom hand yanked on Gerard’s collar, stealing him back to Kingdom.

“No! Gerard stay!” Betty cried.

He reached for her. “Betty, I lo…” But he never finished the thought, and she never heard what he said, as he was sucked into the vacuum of space.

He rolled head over feet, over and over, at a dizzying, alarming speed. Lights flashed by in a blur, and then his face smacked into something hard and all breath left him on impact. It took a moment for the stars to clear from his vision.

“Stand, Gerard,” Galeta’s gruff voice pierced his throbbing head.