Kiss And Dwell (28 page)

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Authors: Kelley St. John

Tags: #Sexth Sense

BOOK: Kiss And Dwell
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I want you beside me when I come,

she said.

If we can

t do it the regular
way, at least we can be in bed together when it happens.

She paused, then
added,

If you want.


You know I do,

he said.

And I

m not supposed to be able to tell a lie, so I

m
going to bank on that.

Careful to stay on his side, he climbed on the bed and
settled against a big white pillow.

Because I sure can

t tell you no.

She smiled at that.

Good. Now close your eyes.

His brows drew firmly together.

You

re kidding, right?


No, I

m not. This is tempting enough without me looking at you, and I

ll admit
I

m not comfortable with you looking at me when I

m having brain sex, either.


Brain sex? Another name for it?

Monique decided not to tell him that Nan had come up with that one. She didn

t
want to talk about Nanette, or anyone else, right now. She wanted to make love
to Ryan.

Close your eyes, Ryan.


I watched you last night,

he admitted.


I know, and I was too into you to let it matter. But tonight, promise me you

ll
keep your eyes closed. If I see you, I may try to touch you, and I

m afraid if
you see me, then you may do the same. Let

s just lie here, in the bed, beside
each other. I

ll know you

re close, and you

ll know I

m close. That

s what I
want.


You drive a hard bargain,

he said,

but okay.

He slid his eyes closed, and a
forest of black lashes met his cheek.

Monique

s eyes had barely closed at all before she sensed him, moving over her,
his heat pressing sweetly against her flesh. Brain sex. Who

d have thought?


Kiss me, Monique.

While the voice came from the other side of the bed, the feeling, the exquisite
warmth of his mouth, was right above her own. His tongue teased her lower lip,
then moved inside. Monique had wondered all day what it would feel like, making
love to him in her mind. It was extraordinary. Mind-boggling. Her senses were in
tune to everything he was doing, his hands cruising smoothly up and down her
sides, over her breasts. A sharp arrow of intense desire rocketed from her
nipples to her core when he mentally pinched the tips, and she cried out with
the need to come.


Please, Ryan,

she coaxed, while she let her own mind wander, and mentally
flexed her hands over the broadness of his chest.

While the sensation of his kisses left her mouth and trailed sweetly down her
body, his hands gently kneading her inner thighs, Monique followed her own path
.

She concentrated on nibbling at each flat male nipple and smiled when she heard
his responding hiss of pleasurable pain. Then she moved lower, visualized
tracing the chiseled indentations of his abs with her tongue before focusing on
that hardened part of him that demanded her attention, while Ryan lavished equal
attention on her core. In the same way that he brought her to climax with the
vibrator, he described what he was going to do.


This is me this time, Monique. No vibrators or anything else. Me. And I

m going
to suck you, kiss you, nibble you and bite you, right where you want it most,
until you can

t take any more.

She actually sensed Ryan

s mouth, sucking on the sensitive flesh at her inner
thigh. She opened her legs and pushed her pelvis forward, enjoying the feel of
his mouth there…burning to feel it on her throbbing clitoris.


Nibbling you,

he continued, as the intensity got stronger, and as Monique let
her mind venture deeper into this pleasure…and sucked harder on his penis.


Biting you,

he said, while a burst of something that made her see stars
claimed her senses…and made her take all of him, every inch of him, determined
that she would make him feel everything she was feeling.

Spasms ripped through her and she cried out in orgasmic abandon as Ryan
surrendered, his deafening growl of release filling her room, while the man
began to fill her heart.

Chapter
11

With two ladders
propped against each side of the house, the
Vicknair
plantation
stood beneath the Friday morning sun like an enormous square spider with skinny
metal legs. Another brutal storm was on its way, expected to hit Louisiana
tonight, and they had no time to spare in repairing the roof. Nan

s

Be ready to
work at seven,

directive, issued last night, had all of the cousins except
Dax
and Gage already removing the tarp from the roof and assessing the gaping areas
where Adeline
Vicknair

s
beloved slate tiles were missing in action.


Gage work late?

Jenee
asked, as she and Monique labored together to straighten

out the big blue sheet and fold it. The thing snapped loudly in the morning
breeze while they maneuvered it corner to corner, then fold to fold, until they
held a semi-neat rectangle of overlapping plastic.


Yeah, he worked late, but he said he

d be here as soon as he could,

Monique
answered. She

d been up late too, having another round of brain sex with Ryan
.

For the past five days, he

d spent his days with Celeste and his nights with
Monique. Evidently, he and Celeste had grown closer. He

d told Monique that he
felt he was progressing through the steps and might actually be able to cross by
Sunday. However, he

d also informed her that while he may be allowed to cross,
that didn

t mean he would. Neither claim had sat well with Monique. Had he
already become intimate with Celeste during the day, while having phenomenal
brain sex each night with Monique? Was that even possible? And should it bother
her that it bothered her?

She

d moved all of today

s appointments to tomorrow so she could help the family
before the storm, but with the limited amount of sleep she

d had this week, she
didn

t know how energetic she

d be for the task. However, she had to help them
pull it off. The roof couldn

t stand another storm, and another one was
definitely coming.

Despite her fatigue, Monique eyed the roof and was glad she had something to
keep her busy today—to keep her mind off the fact that she had only two days
until Ryan

s deadline to cross.

Two. Days.


Well, I

m glad Gage is coming,

Tristan said, backing away from the house to
assess the damage and taking Monique

s thoughts from her mesmerizing spirit
.


We

re definitely going to need everyone who can help today.


What do you think?

Monique asked Tristan, as
Jenee
carried the folded tarp to
the shed at the back of their property.

Will we be able to get it fixed before
the storm comes?

They

d listened to the weather reports last night and that
morning and knew that the gusty breeze, uncommon for Louisiana in August,
confirmed the forecast. A storm—a big one—was headed their way.


If it were a normal roof, I

d say we have a good week

s worth of work left to
patch those spots. But since all of the problem spots are on the steep peaks,
and since slate is so much more fragile than traditional shingles, I

m betting
we

re looking at a month.


But we

re getting a storm tonight.

Jenee
walked back around the side of the
house. She

d pulled her hair in a high ponytail and looked even younger than her
twenty-one years.


I know,

Tristan said.

And I also know that if those Gulf winds are as
powerful as they

re predicting, no tarp is going to do the trick. We

ve got to
get this baby patched, unless we

re ready for the ceilings to cave—again.


No way,

Nan declared.

Ever since he was elected Parish President and then
gained a seat on the Historical Society

s board, Charles
Roussel
has been trying
to use that power to get our home. Right now, he

s probably hoping the roof will
cave before the Historical Society inspection and then he can force us to hand
it over. Well, he can

t. I won

t let him. We have to make it through this storm
.

The inspection is next week.

Tristan smiled.

Hey, I

m right there with ya, Nan, but the truth is we

ve
salvaged less than a hundred slate tiles, and we need a few thousand. How are we
going to come across them in a day? And more than that, how are we going to pay
for them, when every one of us has tapped out all our resources?


We

ll do what we can,

Jenee
said.

Right, Nan?


Right.

Nan strapped a tool belt around her slender hips, filling two of the
pockets with roofing nails and dropping a hammer in the cloth loop on one side
.


Bob Vila ain

t got nothing on me.

As they all strapped on similar belts,
chuckling at her remark, the purr of an engine took their attention from the
roof. Nan smiled.


Oh good, now that Gage

s here, we can divide up those sections into five—

Her
words stalled in her throat and her eyes narrowed into slits as a black Mercedes
that all of them knew well slunk down the drive, then circled wide around the
biggest oak on the property. The Parish President had decided to pay them a
visit.


Look what the storm brought in,

Nan muttered, as Charles
Roussel
, grinning,
stepped out of the car.

He was no more than five-eight, only about an inch taller than Nan, Monique
noted as he neared, but he had the presence of a man well over six feet. His
chest was broad and powerful, biceps bulging even in his suit jacket, and his
stance commanding as he stopped in front of Nanette and extended a handful of
papers.

I brought you something, Ms.
Vicknair
.

She snatched them away and scanned the top page, while his bright politician

s
smile grew even larger. Monique was sure it would help Nan

s disposition if the
guy looked like the weasel she claimed he was. Unfortunately,
Roussel

s
tan
skin, black hair and megawatt smile was an honest-to-goodness compliment to his
ancestors, and Monique would be lying if she said his campaign posters hadn

t
caused her to do a double-take whenever she

d passed one on Airline Highway
.

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