Say You Love Her, An L.A. Love Story (11 page)

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Authors: Z.L. Arkadie

Tags: #adult romance, #steamy romance, #Contemporary Romance

BOOK: Say You Love Her, An L.A. Love Story
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I check over my shoulder. I thought I heard someone behind me. “Sit down,” Jacques says.

“How was the poker game last night?” I ask as I take a seat.

Jacques grumbles.
 

“I told you not to go messing around with Chester. He’ll take you for everything you own—even the socks on your feet,” Josephine says.

 
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jacques grunts.

Waffles, steak, scrambled eggs, biscuits, and home fries are on platters in the middle of the table. Jacques is the only one eating. Josephine didn’t eat dinner the night before either, at least not with us.
 

“How did you sleep?” She raises her eyebrows as though she already knows the answer to that question.

I glance at Jacques, petrified. Shit, were Angelina and I too loud? Fucking in her mother’s house. Did they hear us?

“Rather well,” I say. I cough to clear my throat. “Is Angelina here?”

“She’s at Karina’s,” Jacques says. Now he’s fiddling with an electronic tablet. It looks like he’s checking his email, which reminds me that I have to check my voice messages.

“What’s going on over there, Jacques?” Josephine asks, craning her neck.

He grimaces as he types out a message. “Same as always. Everybody wants a piece of me, but I’m only one man.” He powers down the tablet. “We’re going to head over to Karina’s this afternoon for a party. Will you be ready to play, music man?” he asks.

“If that’s an invitation, then hell yeah!” I feel kind of guilty. It’s as though he’s rewarding me after I’ve done dirty things to his daughter, and shit, I’m not even close to being done with her.

Jacques smirks. “So how is Daisy doing with your brother? Is she really happy with him?”

I flinch. That question came out of left field. “She’s happy with him.” That’s an easy and true answer.

“He likes to handle shit. He seems to be the one in charge.”

“That’s just how he is. He tries to handle my shit too. If Jack loses control of a situation and the people around him lose control of theirs, then he loses his mind.” I’ve never been able to put that into words until this very moment.

Jacques nods as he says, “I see. He’s one of those kind of cats.”

“Like you, Jacques,” Josephine chimes in.

Jacques scowls as if he’s bothered by the comparison.

“Jack’s a good guy.” I feel like I have to defend him, because hell, he
is
a good guy. “He’ll never hurt Daisy. He worships the ground she walks on, and that’s no exaggeration.”
 

“She’s not the one I’m worried about.”

“You’re worried about Jack?”

“If he keeps smothering her, she’ll run,” he says without blinking an eye. I kind of believe him, and then I don’t. It’s not as if he knows Daisy as well as he does Angelina. When I thought I was in love with her, I viewed their relationship from every angle, looking for an irreparable rip. There isn’t one. Yes, Jack is overly attentive and it can be annoying as hell, but their chemistry is too strong for it to bother Daisy.
 

It seems that’s all Jacques has to say on the subject. He asks Josephine if she plans to attend the party.
 

“The next party I’m going to is my funeral, and I’ll be dead and in the coffin.”

“Don’t say shit like that, Jo,” Jacques snarls.
 

Angelina appears right in the nick of time. She’s wearing a light cotton sundress that gently clings to her body. I get a flashback of that look on her face when she climaxed. My tongue is remembering the taste and feel of her nipples, which are pressing against the fabric.
 

She smiles at me, and I grin back. “Good morning, sleepy head,” she says, repeating exactly what her mother said. She even sang it out in the same tone.
 

“Good morning.” I can’t stop grinning. She’s radiant.

Angelina sits beside me and takes a biscuit out of the basket. “You should see all the fuss going on over at Karina’s.”

“Y’all have fun,” Josephine says.

Angelina stops in the middle of spreading grape jelly on her biscuit. “You’re not coming, Mama? She thinks you’re coming.”

Josephine touches the scarf on her head. “Everybody’s going to be having a good time. There’s no need to have me around. I can’t do nothing but be in the way.”

“That’s not true. Karina is going to make it extra comfortable for you. Lynette and Louis are already over there. All your friends are going to be there. They want to see you. These are relationships you made over the years. You’ve been hiding from them for four years. Don’t you think it’s time for you to come out of hiding so they can see you, give you hugs? You owe them.”
 

I’m impressed by Angelina’s hard sell.
 

“Is the party for me?” Josephine asks snappishly.

Angelina and Jacques give each other looks. “Yeah… It’s supposed to be a surprise, but it’s for you,” Angelina says.

Josephine twists her mouth into a frown and shakes her head. “Do you see me? I already look like a corpse, and smell like one too. I’m dying, and you can’t keep walking around here acting like it ain’t happening. My album. You play that during my funeral march.”

 
“Mama, stop talking about funerals. And nobody’s going to care about how you look,” Angelina says. “These are your people. They love you.”

“I am sick!” Josephine bangs on the handrails of her wheelchair. “Nobody wants to see Madame Beauchamp that way.”

“But remember those parties? The fun we had? Our friends? That was our life. You think cancer will keep Karina from throwing those parties? Do you think it will keep Lynette and Louis from driving up so they can have a good time? Are you really that vain?”

“Angelina!” Jacques says. “Don’t lose respect.”
 

I feel the urge to say something. “I think you’re still a beautiful woman, Madame Beauchamp,” I say.

Angelina widens her eyes at me as if to say thank you.

“Do not patronize me,” Josephine hisses.

“I’m sorry, Madame Beauchamp, but I don’t know the first thing about patronizing anyone. All I know how to do is give it to you straight. Yes, you’re ill, but it hasn’t diminished your beauty. You’re radiant, and that’s undeniable.”

Angelina squeezes my thigh. Once again her hand is too close to my dick. I also want to thank Madame Josephine Beauchamp for birthing a beautiful specimen of a woman, who’s unique in every way imaginable and sexy as hell, but now would not be the time.

The silence is filled with expectation.
 

“How about I stop by for a little while,” Josephine says. “I’ll rest some, and then Dorothy will take me over.”

“Thank you,” Angelina mouths to me as Dorothy rolls Josephine out of the dining room. After breakfast, Jacques walks over to Karina’s to visit with Lynette and Louis. Angelina takes me for a walk on the grounds. They have to have at least an acre of land here composed of mostly trees, grass, streams, and small ponds. Every scene is like a snapshot on a postcard.
 

Angelina has just explained why she really wants her mother at the party.
 

“But she’s seen you dance before, hasn’t she?” I ask.

“Not dance dance. Not like what I’m going to show her tonight.”

“But why does the party start so early?”

“Because it’ll go on all night. You’ll see.”

We reach the edge of a small pond that’s dwarfed by feathery trees. The grass beneath our feet is perfectly green and spongy.

“This is my favorite spot,” Angelina says, gazing into the dark and shallow water.

“How good of a dancer are you?” I ask.

“I’m great.” She smiles.

“Can you kick your leg up like a ballerina?”

“Mm hmm.”

“Can you show me?”

“Mm hmm.”

Just the suspense alone stimulates my dick. Angelina shimmies the hem of her dress up her creamy thighs. She’s wearing the black lacy panties that she twirled around her finger before folding them into her suitcase the other day. My eyes are glued to her pussy in those panties.
 

“Ta-da!” she sings. I’ve been so focused on her sweet spot that I didn’t pay attention to the leg lift. It’s extended straight up in the air above her head. She’s bobbling because she’s trying to keep her balance on grass.

“Shit,” I say, nearly out of breath. I take her by the extended leg and trail kisses up her thigh all the way to her calf.
 

Her moans tell me that she likes it.
 

“How about this?” I mutter and slide my fingers under the crotch of her panties. I thrust two fingers into her pussy and circle my thumb around her clit.
 

Angelina loses her balance, but I hold her steady. She drapes her extended leg over my shoulder. I carefully lay her down on the grass. I’m going to put my dick’s needs on hold for a while and take my time with her sexy body. The moisture from her pussy lubricates my fingers. They slip against the inside of her pubic bone. I’m searching for her sweet spots. This is an intelligence-gathering mission. I find what I’m looking for when she moans louder and her warm walls swell around my finger.

“Ah!” she whimpers when she comes.
 

Shit, I’m wet with pre-come. My dick wants in, but I’m not giving it access. Not yet. I lick her stomach, tasting her skin. I have to work hard to contain myself when she smirks naughtily and then extends her other leg above her head. Her scrumptious pussy is right under my chin. I suck on her clit through the lace. She’s wriggling and gasping with her legs above her head. My dick is hard and tight. Enough of the lace. I tug the wet material to expose her pussy and suck her clit. She loses composure and her legs fling forward, but I push her knees out to the side as I run my tongue along the side of the tender but hard knot. I look up at her face. I want to see her climax so hard that even her ankles shiver. Her stomach muscles are contracting. Her nipples are firm. Her lips are parted, and she’s whispering my name. I grab her ass to keep her from squirming away from my mouth. She screams and creams on my chin. Since I want to devour every single cell of her body, I lick her dry. It’s time. My dick is aching for her snug walls. I unbutton, unzip, pull, and push.
 

“Fuck…” Sensations surge through my groin on first thrust. I must go slow and deep to make this last.

“You want to taste yourself?” I ask her.

She nods, and I press my lips on hers and swirl my tongue around hers. Shit, I’m going to come.
Don’t come
. Her hips are riding with mine. I clamp down on them to keep her still. I don’t need the help.

“Baby, your pussy is so tight and wet.”

“And your dick is hard and smart.” Even she has to smile at that.

“Smart?”
Shit, don’t come
.

“You know how to use it,” she whispers.

I take her nipple between my teeth and bite gently. The walls of her pussy flex when I do that. “I love a lively pussy,” I say. She laughs. “I’m trying not to come, but you’re slaying me.”
 

“Then just keep still for a moment,” she says.

I nod and roll her on top of me. I cup her ass to keep her from moving.

“Better,” I say with a sigh. “I want it to last.”

“We can always do it again.” She chuckles, and her pussy vibrates around my dick.

“Don’t laugh.”
 

“Oh, come on, Charlie.”

“You’re tight as fuck. I think I’ve reached pussy nirvana.”

She laughs again, and I use my grip on her ass to bounce her pussy against my dick. I do it hard and fast, panting like an animal. “Goddamn it,” I grunt. I try to hold on. I want to come just as hard as she came. She’s singing a sex song in my ear. The faster I go, the higher her notes go. But shit, I can’t hold off any longer. My body jerks as I grab her and let loose inside of that utopic pussy of hers.
 

We’re both breathing heavily. It’s still hard to believe that she’s this close. Blades of grass pinch my backside. It’s uncomfortable as hell. But Angelina’s warm, hard-yet-soft body on my front side soothes the discomfort.
 

“I wanted you from the moment I saw you in the trailer,” I say.

“You did?” She breathes deliberately, carefully, obviously still trying to steady herself.

“You couldn’t tell?”

“No, because you brought a girl with you. The actress.”
 

“Oh, Lily or Amy or something.”

“I think she said her name was Lilac, like the flower. I remember thinking how much she looked like Pocahontas.”

“That’s what I thought too.”

“I also thought that you two looked good together.”

I kiss multiple spots on the side of her face. “I think you and I look better together.”
 

She chuckles. “You’re just as charming as my mother. You charmed the hell out of her earlier. I hope I thanked you properly for that.”

“Oh, you did,” I assure her.

We laugh and adjust our bodies, making ourselves more comfortable. We’re going to stay like this for a while, especially since the climate is perfect—the air is thick but peaceful and serene.

“So what the hell are you?” I ask.

“I’m a human being. And you?”

I snort. She’s cute. “I know you’re a human being. You write scripts and you dance. And your mother thinks you’re in medical school. What’s your real job?”

She takes a long, deep breath. “I am nothing, and I am everything and anything I want to be.”

I study her face. “And you’ve made peace with that?”

She rolls her eyes and sighs. “No, but I will one day. Maybe you should too.”

We gaze into each other’s eyes. It’s as if my life story has been implanted into her brain. “I want to be something, though,” I whisper.

She kisses my lips gently. “What do you want to be, Charlie?”

“I don’t know yet, but it sure as hell isn’t a moviemaker. That’s why I dropped out of film school. Movies don’t excite me.”

Angelina rubs her pubic bone against my dick. I moan because it feels so good. “You love Betty,” she says.

I knead her sweet ass. “That I do.”

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