Chain of Title (3 page)

“Thanks for bringing me here,
Sean.  The atmosphere is really nice and the food is outstanding,” she said, as
she placed her fork down on the mostly empty plate.  “But Gaetano’s is still my
favorite.”  She winked at him and he smiled in reply.

“Yeah, I know.  The
quirks
,”
he remarked, with feigned perturbation, pushing away his bare bowl and plate of
empty clamshells.

She grinned, slowly.  “The
quirks,” she repeated throatily, with a heavy stare that seemed to have stopped
his breathing.  She watched as he reached under her seat and, once again,
pulled her beside him.  Then she felt one strong hand caressing her bare back
and the other cupped her face as he leaned in for a kiss.

Oh, she did not want to rush
this night.  Patient, unrelenting flirtation was her favorite aphrodisiac.  She
and Sean Parker had mastered the art over the past year and a half.  It was
exactly
her type of romance.  Flowers? No thanks.  Mushy, sentiment filled cards? No
thanks.  Rose petals scattered on the bed and poetry reading? No thanks and
hell
no
.  She wanted a man—a man who knew what
she
liked.  Sean had read
her masterfully from the beginning.

They had clicked immediately. 
It was lust at first sight, which too often evaporates the second someone opens
their mouth to speak.  But not with Sean Parker, no, no, no.  What came out of
his mouth rumbled and teased, making everything in her reverberate like a
tuning fork.  He had made her toes curl without even touching her.  Now that
was a man, in her book.

Someone clearing his throat
above them broke the spell of their slow, deliberate kiss.  “Will you be having
dessert this evening?” the eager
garçon
inquired, with his head cocked and
a knowing grin.

Shayna saw the answer in
Sean’s eyes.  Without breaking their connection, she replied, “Crème brûlée.” 
Sean’s lids slowly dropped and she felt his hot breath as he exhaled.  He raised
his hand and, resignedly, signaled ‘two’ to the attendant.  They both laughed
softly and Shayna moved to reposition her seat, but Sean held it firmly in
place.

“Oh, no, Shayna Montgomery. 
You’re not going anywhere,” he breathed, huskily.  Wrapping his arm around her
shoulders, he stroked the side of her face.  “Twenty-five years?”  It was
clearly a rhetorical question, and Shayna stared placidly at him.  “That’s a
helluva a long time.”

“Tell me about it.  I also
have a twenty-three-year-old daughter, Danielle.”

His brows rose and his eyes
popped open, then narrowed to slits.  “Wait a minute.  I asked you once if you
had kids.”

“No you didn’t.  You asked me
if I was expecting a custody fight or a battle over child support payments.”

She could see Sean rewinding
to that conversation and then he grinned and shook his finger at her.

“Oh, you are good.  That is
what I asked.”  He nodded and glanced off into the distance.  “And you said
there
aren’t any kids to battle over
.”  He sat back in his chair and laughed. 
“Now I get it.  You told me the truth.  Without telling me
anything
. 
Damn.  I’m going to have to watch you,” he said settling himself back around her. 
Shayna smiled and arched her brow in agreement.  “So, how’s your daughter
handled the split?”

Shayna huffed and closed her
eyes.  “Of course, she thinks it’s all my fault.”

“Why?”

“Because
Daddy
can’t
possibly do anything wrong, and I can’t do anything right.”

Sean’s brows quirked.  “You’ve
never said why you broke up.  After that many years, it seems like it would
just be easier to stay together.”

Shayna sighed.  “Sean, let me
tell you something about myself right up front.  When someone shows me who they
really
are, I believe them.  Nothing they say after that point will ever
erase what I know to be the truth of their actions.”  She answered his
quizzical expression.  “I walked in on Frank banging his twenty-one-year-old receptionist—in
our
bed.  There was
nothing
he could’ve said that would’ve
stopped me from packing my bags and leaving that very same day.  And, in a
nutshell, that’s why Dani is so angry with me.  You see, I didn’t do enough to
try and make it work with her dad.”

Sean’s expression was
ineffable.  “Did he want to work it out?”  She nodded wistfully.  Sean’s
demeanor changed, becoming more serious, and he moved slightly away from her. 
“Does he
still
want to work it out?”

Shayna shrugged slightly.  “If
I had to guess, I’d say he might.  I’ve heard rumors that his PYT isn’t as much
fun anymore.  Maybe the novelty wore off.  Maybe she didn’t understand that
Frank was only going to get half of everything that
we
worked for all
those years.  She was probably expecting the lifestyle I had.”  Shayna huffed. 
“That little girl could never fill my shoes.  Let alone have my bank account.” 
She noticed that Sean looked more worried.

“Is there
any
chance
the two of you might get back together, Shay?” he asked apprehensively.

Without equivocation, she
calmed his obvious concern with a merciless expression and tone.  “None.  He
had me for more than twenty years and decided to risk everything—for a piece of
ass.”  She could tell that her brutal tone and words startled Sean, but she also
sensed that he believed her.  His body language softened and he moved back in
closer to her.  “He’s not the man I thought he was.  Now that I
know
who
he is, there’s no going back—
ever
.”

For the first year and half,
Frank had refused to give Shayna a divorce and had kept insisting that he loved
her, wanted to work it out, and would even go to marriage counseling.  Yeah, if
he thought they needed professional help, he should’ve come to her before he
stuck his dick somewhere it didn’t belong.  When Shayna Montgomery was done
with someone, that was it, stick a fork in it.

“Your ex must be an idiot,”
Sean whispered, gruffly, smoothing the back of his fingers against her cheek.  Shayna
slid her hand along Sean’s strong, square jaw line, relishing the feel of
stubble against her sensitive flesh.

“You need to know something
else, Sean.  I’ve spent the last twenty-five years married—the last three years
of which I didn’t even live with my husband.”  She skimmed her finger across
his soft bottom lip.  “At some point tonight, you and I are going to end up
hot, sweaty, and gloriously naked.”  Sean exhaled sharply, his hot breath
caressing her skin.  “You’ll only be the third man that I’ve ever slept with, and
the first since leaving Frank three years ago.”  She noticed the precipitous
fall and rise of his Adams apple.  “I don’t sleep with a man unless he’s proven
himself worthy.”

His grip on her tightened and
he pulled her closer.  “I’m damn glad I made the cut,” he murmured, roughly.

Shayna smiled, slyly.  “Only
by the slimmest of margins.”  She bit her lips together in a failed attempt to
stifle a giggle and warmed even further when she saw Sean’s growing grin.

“Here are your crème brûlées. 
May I bring coffee or cappuccino for either of you?”  The server waited expectantly.

Shayna wasn’t sure if Sean
had heard the question.  He just kept staring at her with a dreamy expression.

“Black,” Shayna said to the
server without looking at him.  Once again, Sean raised his hand and signaled
‘two’ coffees.  She smiled as Sean drew close for a kiss.  Holy hell, he was a
great kisser, and his lips?  So soft, so smooth...

She twisted her fingers in
the subtle chocolate waves at the back of his neck.  She felt his strong hand
glide down from her shoulder and skim along her side, his thumb just catching
the swell of her breast.  She felt her nipple stiffen and jump to attention
just from the hint of contact.

There was more throat
clearing from the waiter.  “I’ll just leave your check and you can pay me
whenever you’re ready.  Uh, no rush.  Take your time.”

She felt Sean’s lips curve
into a smile against hers.  She broke away first and shook her head softly to
clear it.

“Let’s eat our dessert, or
we’ll never get out of here tonight.”

“Yeah,” he agreed hesitantly,
stroking her cheek one last time before turning to face the crème brûlée.

While enjoying dessert and
coffee, a remembered question popped into Shayna’s head.  “Why are you glad I’m
older than you thought I was?”

Sean swallowed the last of
his warm custard before pressing around his mouth with a napkin.  He looked at
her circumspectly and took a drink of coffee before settling back in his seat
and placing both hands on his thighs, saying, “Women younger than me always
want kids, or already have them.”  He shrugged.  “At least, that’s been my
experience.”  He paused and bit at his lip.  “And I never wanted any.”  He
waited a couple of beats, appearing to wait for her reaction before continuing. 
“So, it was always a deal-breaker, at some point.  Either they’d think I’d
change my mind in time, or I’d think the same about them.  It just never worked
out that way.”  He gauged Shayna carefully.  “Does that make me a kid-hating
bastard?”

Shayna shook her head compassionately. 
“I never wanted kids either.”

His shock at her candid
admission was evident.  “But, you...your daughter—” he stammered.

“Frank really wanted kids. 
He would’ve loved four or five of the little buggers running around.  I
conceded to one.  I’m sure he thought I’d change my mind after that, thinking
that some magical, maternal feeling would take over and turn me into a baby-making
machine.  Didn’t happen.  Much the opposite.  It reinforced that I’d been right
about myself all along.”  It was clear that Sean Parker had never heard a woman
utter these words before.  He looked utterly stupefied.

“I love my daughter more than
anything or anyone.  The only time in my life that I’ve ever experienced love
at first sight is when she was placed in my arms for the first time.  Having
loved her since that moment, I would never and have never wished she
wasn’t
in my life.  Having said that, it’s the only thing I’ve ever worked so hard at
and still end up feeling like I’ve failed.  So, no, I don’t think you’re a kid-hating
bastard.  I think you did the right thing by trusting yourself.  You know
yourself better than anyone does, or at least you should.  I think too often
people just do what their spouse, family, or society expects.  They tell
themselves that what they want is wrong, because everybody else says it is.  But
at some point, you have to pull out of the herd and listen to yourself, drown
out the stampede of voices with your own.”

Sean was completely
unreadable.  He sandwiched her hand between both of his, pulling it up to rest
their elbows on the tabletop, and rubbed his shadowed chin across their joined flesh. 
She wished she knew what he was thinking.

He finally spoke with
palpable emotion in his voice, “Where the hell have you been all my life,
Shayna Montgomery?”

She smiled amusingly, “Better
late than never.”

The
jazz lounge across the way was fabulous.  Sean knew she loved smooth jazz, and
surprised her when, after paying for their meal, he grabbed her hand and led
her through the back of the bistro, across the alleyway, and through the rear
entry of another establishment.  They found a stepped-up, velvety, maroon-colored
booth in the low-lit lounge, where they could see the musicians and the under-lit
dance floor.  Oh, she did love to dance, especially to smooth jazz.

She and Frank had taken every
dance class imaginable at the Arthur Murray studio.  It was something that he
had introduced her to when they were dating, and she had taken to it like a fish
to water.  They were seamless together on a dance floor.  Why wouldn’t they have
been?  They had been great between the sheets, often times phenomenal.  Their
bodies had always melded and fit perfectly.

Frank Chastain did not look
like the typical sixty-five-year-old man.  Although, with today’s focus on
clutching to one’s youthful exterior as long as possible, not to mention
medical advancements, people in their fifties, sixties, and beyond could look
very different from the population of just twenty or thirty years ago.  Shayna
understood this.  She had witnessed the ogling looks and appreciative glances that
her ex-husband elicited from women of various ages.  He had earned it.  After
all, he worked hard to maintain his physique.  He had a body that not many men
half his age could lay claim to.  Couple that with his full head of thick, wavy,
salt-and-pepper hair and his startling sapphire blue eyes and, yes, Shayna knew
that he had been attempting to hold on to his final hours of youth by banging a
twenty-one-year-old girl.

Knowing it didn’t matter—he
still should’ve kept his dick in his pants.

After all, they had
both
worked hard for twenty-two years.  Whether it was the business, Danielle, or
their marriage, they had always worked as a team.  They had always communicated
and respected one another.  They had built a warm, wonderful life, layered and
textured with incredible memories, or so she had thought.  The years ahead were
supposed to have been the payoff for all that sweat and labor:  years to enjoy
together, reaping what
they
had sown.  Instead, he had cast them both
adrift to start over, leaving their relationship and their carefully crafted
world in the ash heap of history.

Shayna would probably always question
how Frank could’ve thought so little of her, so little of what they had built
together, to make the choice that he had.  That’s what it had been:  a choice. 
Not everybody had that luxury.  Sometimes life removed options.  After the
heartache of the last three years, Shayna had concluded that losing someone
accidentally
,
as devastating as it was, didn’t have quite the same razor’s edge as someone
choosing
to lose you.

She heard a voice through the
fog.

“Shay?”

Her breathing restarted, and
she turned to see Sean viewing her quizzically.  “I’m sorry.  Did you say
something?”

He softly touched her cheek. 
“Everything okay?” he asked doubtfully.

She looked into his guileless
eyes—green like the sea.  Sean Parker was a good man.  Maybe even worth keeping. 
Time would tell.  However, the last three years, measured against the rest of
her life, had taught her something.  You never know how much time you have with
the people you love, or how your time with them will end—accidentally or
intentionally.  Either way, she didn’t think about the future nearly as much
anymore, choosing instead to focus on each day and each moment. She had come to
so
enjoy and look forward to her
moments
with Sean Parker...

“Yes.  Everything’s fine. 
Really.”  She scanned the bodies moving on the dance floor.  “Do you dance?”
she asked without looking at him.

“I’m not too bad.  How about
you?”

She turned to look at him with
a playful expression.  “Oh, I’m good...
damn
good
,” she gave him a
seductive smile.

He wet his lips before they
curved into a challenging, sexy grin.  Grasping her hand and pulling her up, he
lowered his head so that they were nose to nose.  “Well, let’s just see how
good you are,” he said huskily, teasing her with an almost-kiss, before pulling
away and leading her down to the floor.  As they found their space, “The Way
You Move” started, punching and reverberating into the air.

Oh, this was one of her favorite
dance numbers, oozing a sexy rhythm and lyrics.  She closed her eyes and
started swaying, allowing the warm, full-bodied texture and waves to wash over
and guide her.  Feeling a strong arm wrap around her, she opened her eyes to a
smiling Sean Parker.  Boy, he had a killer smile.  He started gliding her fluidly
around the floor, sometimes body to body, other times swinging her out and pivoting
her skillfully in to him, with her back to his front.  Oh, she loved sashaying
her curvy backside up against him then.

Those broad hands skimmed sleekly
over her acutely receptive body, her back, her stomach, and her thighs, dipping
her and trailing scorching kisses along her throat.  His incredible hands
mastered her, stretching her arms up over her head at one point and then
smoothing his grip ever so sensually all the way down to her hips and then
clamping her tight against him, his hard thigh pressed up firmly between hers,
teasing the building, pointed pressure he most assuredly knew was there. 
Not
too bad
my ass, Shayna thought while grinning knowingly up at him.  This
man knew his way around a dance floor.  Oh, how she hoped that translated to
other things.

The jazz players and vocalist
wrapped up the set to a round of applause that Shayna quickly realized was for
her and Sean.  He drew her in even tighter and they laughingly embraced, swaying
to their own tempo until the next number began filling the club with its voluptuous
resonance.

After dancing awhile longer,
Shayna breathed hotly next to his ear. “It’s time to leave, Sean.”

She felt him nod against her
and then pull back, looking at her with heavy-lidded, stormy eyes.  His hands
trailed up from her lower back, smoothing along her shoulders and curving up
around her neck to frame her face.  He kissed her passionately.  A moan escaped
her and he probed her mouth more deeply.  She craved him, needed them to be
naked, soon.  She wanted to feel his hands on her bare body, his lips and
tongue between her legs, his weight on top of her.  She wanted to ride him,
hard, feeling all of that unyielding strength and fierce heat beneath her.

Taking her hand, Sean led her
out of the jazz club, into the balmy summer evening breeze, and to the lot
where they had both parked their cars earlier.  As he approached his black Audi,
Shayna pulled away.

“I’ll follow you, Sean.”  She
turned to walk away, but he pulled her back to him.

“Just get in, Shay.  We’ll
get your car later,” he said gruffly.

She assessed him in the dusky
haze of the car lot.  Then she deftly hooked her hand at the waist of his black
trousers and tugged him commandingly to her.  She smiled lustfully at his
wanton expression, then skimmed her warm hand inside and down into his briefs,
gripping his velvety smooth, already rigid length.  She exhaled sharply in
appreciation.  Oh, he felt hot and thick.  She could definitely work with this,
couldn’t wait for it to be inside her.

Patience, Shayna.  Patience.

His hands gripped her face
firmly as he guided them into the shadows while kissing her, hungrily.  She stroked
him, then reached around to feel and clench the ass she had admired over the
months.  Oh, yeah.  It felt the way it had looked:  hard, perfect, just like
what she was stroking in her other hand.

Sean broke away from their
kiss, breathing heavily, and rested his forehead against Shayna’s.  With
stuttered breaths, he choked out, “Jesus, Shay.  We have to leave.  Right now.”

Without warning, she released
both of her grips and playfully pushed him back as she began backing away
toward her car, leaving him to stumble back a few steps.

“We could’ve already been on
our way.  I’m
following
you, Sean.”  She laughed softly,
continuing her backward retreat.

He stood with one hand braced
against the Audi’s roof, breathing heavily, his pants oh-so-magnificently
tented.  He watched her warily, then wagged his finger at her.

“You did that on purpose,” he
said roughly, with a chastising grin and narrowed eyes.

Shayna’s skin felt like flames
were licking it, as if she might combust.  She clutched at her belly while her
other hand threaded through her hair, kneading the back of her head, then skimmed
down to clench tightly at the nape of her neck, before gliding down and around
to cut between her aching breasts.  Oh, God, she needed his hands on her.  She
released a labored exhale.

“Oops.  My bad,” she gestured
with her hands and shrugged.

He couldn’t get far in his
present condition; that gave her time to get to her Jaguar.  He dragged his
hand over his face bringing it to rest on his lean hip, watching as she
unlocked, blew him a kiss, then slipped down into her luxury ride.