Dinner With a Bad Boy (10 page)

Mitch felt completely lost in a maelstrom of emotions, feelings, and thoughts, none of which made any sense, but all of which felt absolutely wonderful. As he kissed Sue's mouth, held her perfect breasts, even stroked the satiny flesh of her perfect thighs, he knew he had finally found
it.
He'd spent years searching for it, aching for this kaleidoscope of experience—wonder and hunger and even that razor-thin edge of fear all wrapped up in one amazing moment.

But this engulfed him in more than a moment. Minutes, hours, eons of sensations spun through him, taking him well beyond what he'd ever been, and centering him in the most unlikely place—in a woman. In Sue.

Never had he wanted to pleasure a woman more. Never had he felt more fear that she wouldn't like his body or his touch or him. And yet she left no time for fear. Her first kiss robbed him of breath, and from that moment on they seemed to adore each other—together.

He wanted to touch, taste, and exalt every part of her. He left her mouth to pull open her blouse, kissing down her neck as he found her incredible breasts. Impatiently pushing away her bra, he stroked and squeezed them, thrilling at her gasps as he took her coral nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue.

She began tugging at his shirt, stripping it away from him, but he barely noticed until he felt the satin slide of her skin against his. And as their naked flesh touched, his body became attuned to hers. He felt her quiver against him, communicating the same trembling awe and fear. But when he looked into her eyes, silently sharing his own anxiety, she began to smile, a soft curling of her lips even as she let her legs relax open.

"Sue," he whispered, amazed that he could speak at all. "I've been with... I've done..." He swallowed, searching for the words. "This is different. I know what you're feeling with just a touch." Then, as if to prove the point to himself, he lightly stroked his hand across her breast, luxuriating in the curve and the point on a purely sensual level, but stunned by the emotional ripples within him. He knew she loved his touch, wanted more of it. More of him. "It's never been like this before," he repeated. "God, Sue, I want you, but..."

"Afraid?" she whispered.

"Awed."

She reached forward, stroking her hands across his chest, and he felt tiny explosions reverberate through him as she released a soft laugh. "Someone suggested I stop thinking. Just feel. But you know what?" she asked as she leaned forward to kiss his chest. "I think I've never been so sure about anything in my life."

He closed his eyes, glorying in the sensations, but then she pulled away.

"Look at me," she whispered. And he did. His eyes flew open to watch her rise up off the couch. He watched, his mouth going dry as she shrugged out of her open blouse, her glorious breasts bobbing just in front of him. Then he heard the slow
rrrrrrrrr
of her skirt zipper slipping lower and lower, and his blood and eyes followed the movement south. With a playful wiggle she slipped the skirt free, exposing—
oh, God
—thigh-high hose and the sexiest, tiniest scrap of thong lace already darkened with her moisture.

"Mitch..." Her voice was a throaty purr, but she had to stroke his chin to get him to look up. "I love you," she said.

There it was. His answer. Love made this different. This wasn't about bodies. It was about souls. He didn't know how to answer, so he did the only thing he could. He worshiped her. He glorified her every cell, every curve and ripple and moan and gasp.

He went to his knees before her, kissing her belly, stroking his tongue around and beneath her thong. And when her knees began to buckle, he caught her, easing her down as he used his teeth to pull the fabric away. He kissed her everywhere, spreading her open to revere her private places. He felt her tension build and decided her pleasure was just beginning. Indeed, he wanted to spend his life giving her joy in any way he could.

"Mitch." She moaned as he pushed his thumb into her.

"Mitch!" She gasped as he tasted her.
"Mitch!"
she cried as she arched beneath him, bucking as she grabbed hold of him, dragging him upward across her body. "All of you," she demanded. "Now!"

He wanted to give her everything. Everything he was, everything he had, everything he ever would be. He wanted to place them before her as tokens of his reverence. Instead she tugged his pants away, freeing him to do what she demanded. So with one deep, full stroke he entered her, touching her as deeply as he knew how, wishing he could give her more, while all the time his body shook with need.

She cried out in ecstasy, and he repeated the thrust, wanting to prolong her joy even while the fire entered his mind, overwhelming his restraint. In. Again. And again. Until he burst open, pouring himself into her as she shook with the power of her own fulfillment.

His last thought before collapsing beside her was that he had given her everything he had and more, and yet he'd never, ever felt more complete.

* * *

He floated in a pool of absolute contentment. No thoughts clouded his feelings. If anything, flashes of memory only enhanced his mood. He recalled Sue's body shuddering around him. Her giggle as he stumbled when he scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom. Her body flowing around him as she settled her head onto his shoulder, her breath a sweet caress. And best of all, a total suffusion of joy when she'd whispered, "I love you."

God, he felt blessed.

Then a ripple of unhappiness swirled through his pool. Sue was leaving his side. Dimly he recognized sounds in the distance. Noises from the front hallway. The whisper of clothing against skin, probably as Sue dressed, then the muted plop of fabric hitting the floor. He struggled up to consciousness, coming awake as the bedroom door shut and voices filtered in through the doorway.

"Su Ling! You look so relaxed. Isn't it good to be finally rid of that man?"

Sue's mother. Coming back with Mandy. Mitch's eyes flew open as he scrambled out of bed, scanning the room for his clothing, spotting them in a heap on the floor.

"Ma Ma, you have to stop. Mitch isn't a drug dealer or anything bad."

He listened to his love's voice as she chastised her mother, smiling as he anticipated her proud declaration. She loved him. They were in love. Meanwhile, he hastily pulled on his pants, wishing he had nicer clothes to wear before his woman's mother.

"In fact," continued Sue, "I... Well, he's... Ma Ma, he's a very nice man."

Mitch paused, his hands clutching his shirt.
Nice?
He sounded like a pet.

"Well, of course. Waiters are paid to be nice—"

"Teacher, Ma Ma." At least Sue sounded annoyed.

"Them, too. But he is not for you. You know this, yes?"

He waited for her swift denial, but as the silence stretched Mitch felt his soul grow cold. Was it possible? After everything they'd just shared, after everything they'd just done, would she still choose her mother over him? Was her good-girl persona so ingrained that even love couldn't crack it?

An old anger began to burn in him, feeding on the tangible presence of parental disapproval. He'd left his home because of this. Unreasonable condemnation had fueled his teenage rebellion and still made him torture his family with shaggy hair, outrageous earrings, and a really bad attitude over holidays. Put simply, his parents hated his choices—to play hockey, to buy a motorcycle, to teach middle school—and all too soon their contempt became as natural as his rebellion. So once again he faced parental scorn, and once again it pushed him into mutiny as he sauntered out of Sue's bedroom with only his low-slung jeans on.

"Yes, Sue," he called, "tell her how I'm not for you."

Mrs. Chen whipped around at his sudden entrance while Sue's sigh echoed in the taut silence. But the person Mitch spotted first was Mandy, her eyes widening with shock and teen speculation. Seeing her made him instinctively want to cover himself, but it was too late. Teen presence or not, he had to brazen it through.

Mrs. Chen reacted first. She began spouting a flurry of Chinese, adding wide gestures and dramatic expressions, but Sue didn't appear to listen any more than he did. Instead she turned to him, her eyes wide and tragic. "You couldn't just let me handle it, could you? Geez, Mitch, they're my family. Let me deal with them my way."

He took a step forward, hating to see the pain in her eyes, but still driven to defend himself. "Your way leaves me hidden in the back room like some shameful secret. Just tell her you love me, and she has to accept it!"

Mrs. Chen abruptly switched into English, physically stepping between her daughter and Mitch. "You told me he had gone. You told me he wasn't for you."

Sue shook her head, tears shimmering in her eyes. "You said that, Ma Ma. Not me."

The pain in her voice spurred Mitch to act, determined now to end this scene as quickly and painlessly as possible. And that meant showing the truth to Sue's mother. So he gently but firmly took hold of Mrs. Chen's arm, pulling her back far enough to allow him to slip an arm around Sue's waist. "No, I haven't gone. And I'm not going."

In less than a second Mitch realized he'd erred. Mrs. Chen's expression shifted into pure hatred. This woman would bury a cleaver in his chest if it meant protecting her daughter. And right now she obviously thought him the devil incarnate.

Mrs. Chen pulled herself upright, and Mitch instinctively tensed, sliding in front of Sue in case her mother became violent, but neither of them had the chance. Sue roughly pushed them both apart. "Stop it! Both of you!" she shouted.

Mitch straightened, intending to say something—what, he had no clue—but something perfect. Something that would show both mother and daughter that he and Sue belonged together. But as he desperately searched for the right words, Mrs. Chen pulled herself together, speaking in Chinese with great dignity while her daughter pulled her arms against her chest in a defensive posture.

He didn't know what her mother said, but Sue's response was very clear. "Of course I love you, Ma Ma. And my family. But I'm an adult. You must allow me to make my own mistakes."

"Aha!" cried her mother in English. "You admit it." She pointed her dark red fingernail at Mitch. "He is a mistake."

For his part, Mitch felt his heart shrivel with cold. Why couldn't she just say the truth? That she loved him and damn the consequences? "Maybe you're right," he said. "Maybe this whole thing is a mistake."

She shook her head, a single tear slipping free. "I didn't say that."

Her mother began speaking, but Sue held up her hand, shooting her mother a stern look before turning back to him. "I'm asking you." She took a deep breath. "I'm begging you, Mitch, don't make me choose between you and my family."

"God, Sue, can't you see how much pain they're causing you?"

"My name is
Su Ling!"
she exploded. And when he just stared stupidly at her, she shook her head, her tone and her shoulders dropping in weariness. "Mitch, I'm Chinese. I can't just throw my family away because they're inconvenient."

He took a step forward. "Stop thinking so much. Go with your gut. It feels right between us, doesn't it? It has to. You said you love me." He watched as she closed her eyes, drawing herself together. Even her posture became firmer.

Then she opened her eyes, shifting to look at her mother. Inside Mitch began to glow with joy. She was going to tell her mother to butt out. This was her life. And, miracle of miracles, her next words confirmed it.

"Ma Ma, I do love him." Then she turned to him, and he felt his happiness start to sink. "But I love my family, too. They're a part of me. The man for me will recognize that."

He shifted his gaze to her mother, seeing the triumphant gleam in her eyes. "And what if your family doesn't accept him?" he challenged. Because from her mother's expression, hell would serve frozen margaritas before that woman accepted him.

Sue hesitated, shifting her gaze to her mother. "They love me, too. We have to find a way to work it out."

"Work it out with your family?" he drawled, thinking of his own family—the bitter arguments, the ugly words. Some things, he knew, never ran smoothly.

"I will not choose between a man and my family." Sue stepped toward him, her heart in her eyes. "If you love me, you'll help me find a way."

He tasted bitterness as he spoke. "If you loved me, you wouldn't need my help. You'd know that my love..." He took a deep breath. "That our love comes first." He crossed to the door then, intending to leave. That was how he'd ended his last bitter argument with his father—by just walking out. But before he could close the door on the one woman he'd ever truly loved, he had to try one last time. "I make you happy. You know I do."

She shook her head, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks. "Not if it means I have to break with my parents. Are you truly happy—truly whole—without your family?"

He didn't answer, knowing he'd been defeated. She would always be tied to her mother's strings, always bound by their choices, not her own. Swallowing his anger along with his regrets, he grabbed his shirt and jacket and walked out.

Chapter 6