The Blacker the Berry (11 page)

“Frustrated?”

“No, bound for my pleasure. We’re going to have to do this again.”

“I agree. But reversed.”

“We’ll see.” He laughed, knowing good and well that it would be a cold day in hell before he allowed her to tie him up. Starting at the top, Russell began to unbutton her white blouse, stopping when he neared the bottom to pull the edges open, bringing her cream-colored bra into view.

The sexy lace was like artwork against her skin; unfortunately, it was an obscuring one, keeping him away from what he wanted. But since he was unwilling to untie her and risk her wrath before he could fuck her, he pushed the stretchy cups down until her nipples were exposed. The bra was still covering the bottom half of her large breasts, but now, instead of restricting his view, it was holding them up to him like a sacrifical offering.

One he couldn’t resist. His hands brushed over the exposed tips, causing her to gasp. Then leaning down, he captured her lips. They drank hungrily from one another, their tongues dueling in a ritualistic move. Her sweet taste blinded him to everything around him, but she was something he was becoming quickly accustomed to.

Before he became too drunk on her essence, he lifted his mouth from Tamara’s, and he lowered his lips to her breasts. Her answering moan was all the go-ahead he needed; he took one of her beaded nipples between his lips. She moaned softly as his tongue circled the hard peak before drawing it into his mouth.

While his lips were busy with her breasts, his hand slid between their bodies and moved down quickly to her pussy. With his fingers he parted her nether lips and plunged two fingers into the tight, wet abyss of her sex.

Moaning, Tamara gyrated her hips forward, wordlessly begging him as he tried to open her moist center. Their two weeks apart was very telling. Her pussy was so tight, he could barely scissor his fingers inside her, a fact that only made him want to fuck her more.

He wanted to shove his cock into her pussy and give her the pounding they both wanted so desperately, but he refrained. If it killed him, he was going to take his time with her, pleasuring her over and over until she went mad with it. It was the least he owed her for the way he’d tormented her the last few weeks.

Hungrier now than he’d been before, Russell slipped his fingers out of her wet body, and reached for his wallet and the protection he’d pocketed within it days ago. He made quick work of his zipper, shoving his pants past his ass in his haste to enter her.

After sheathing himself for their protection, he stepped up and gripped his cock tightly, centering it on her moist opening. “Lean back, baby.”

Without saying a word, Tamara leaned back a bit, resting her upper body on top of her bound hands on the desk for leverage. “Perfect.”

And she was.

With his gaze firmly centered on her passion-filled eyes, Russell took his time and entered her slowly, sinking only half his cock on the first thrust. Biting back a groan, he retracted his length until only the head remained before plunging forth once more.

She bit out a sharp cry as he buried himself balls-deep inside her. It was a tight fit, but well worth the effort. Exquisite torture of the best kind. He could feel the walls of her sex stretching to take all of him. The heady sensation caused him to groan as the heat of her pussy surrounded him. He paused for a moment to allow her to become reaccustomed to him, before he pulled out, then forcefully thrust back in. “Why did we wait so long to do this again?”

“Because of you.”

“Oh yeah.” Russell gripped her hips in his hands and used them as leverage to pull her farther onto his cock. “That was stupid.”

“You’re preaching to the…choir.”

“Wrap your legs around my hips. I want to fuck you as deep as humanly possible. I want you to feel me for days after this.”

“I feel you.” She moaned.

“No”—Russell held tightly to her hips, as he powered deep within her—“but you will. Then you’ll remember exactly who you belong to.”

“I belong to—”

He didn’t even let her finish. “Me.”

Tamara bit down on her bottom lip, stifling the moans bubbling up from within her. His woman wasn’t a quiet lover, and unfortunately, the last two times they’d made love, counting this one, were in places where she couldn’t open up and let loose. He was going to have to rectify that as soon as humanly possible because he wanted her to be as wild and as loud as she wanted. Untamed, like a woman in the throes of passion should be.

“I can’t get enough of your tight pussy.” Her pussy clenched around him, welcoming him back home. It was like heaven. It was like hell. He was perfect. She was perfect.

“So tight. So good.” Russell glanced down between them and watched in wonder as his pale shaft penetrated her dark sheath. The erotic sight was a mosaic masterpiece in the making. “So pretty.”

“Yes, yes, yes.” Tamara closed her eyes and dropped her head back, pumping her hips up to meet him thrust for thrust.

“Look at me.” He paused in midstroke to give his command. Moaning, Tamara looked up at him. Her dark eyes were filled with passion. Her face was a road map of pleasure. “Better. Much, much better.”

Russell couldn’t put a damper on the need he had to ensure Tamara knew he was the only one for her. In her life. In her bed. In her heart. She was his. Just as he was hers.

“Yes…yes…fuck me,” she pleaded.”Fuck. Fuck.”

Her breasts bounced in rhythm to his quickening thrusts. It was a far cry from a smooth, subtle ride. It was wild, fierce, and all-consuming.

He could see the struggle within her to close her eyes, but like the fighter she was, Tamara battled it, meeting him thrust for thrust, while drowning him in the stormy seas of her eyes.

Her legs tightened around him as her breathing became a ragged, jagged symphony of erotic sounds. The more he thrust, the louder she became, making him want to pound her even harder. But common sense won out, forcing him to mutter, “Shhh” despite his own personal desires.

But quieting Tamara was like trying to hold back a typhoon. “Please.” Her body began to shake. Her nipples pebbled to hard little stones, and her pussy gushed with evidence of her impending release. “Please, Russell…”

As if he could ever turn down a request like that. Russell bore down on her, grinding his pelvis against her pearl with every downward stroke. He pumped his hips wildly until her eyes grew glassy and her breath short.

She strained against him for a few seconds, then broke, letting out a deep moan as she reached her pinnacle. Russell quickly covered her mouth with his when she came, swallowing the heady cries down as he neared his own release. Her body convulsed and shivered, making the liplock almost impossible to keep, but he kept at it, kissing her through her orgasm, as if the very breath from her soul fueled his own.

All the while, he fucked her, fighting her contracting muscles with everything inside him. Her sweet pussy was milking his cock, squeezing it so tight he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Not long at all.

He broke their kiss, more concerned with his balls tightening. His heart pounded. He felt light-headed and drunk. With all his might, he pulled her onto him as he pushed deep within her, coming inside her hot, pulsing body. He took her peaked nipple into his mouth to mute his own deep groans. His savage suction had Tamara gasping and arching up to him, as he rode out the waves of his release.

Her body was limp beneath him. The only thing holding her upright were her bound hands behind her. She was a sexy, panting mess of loving, and she’d never looked more beautiful to him.

Struggling, Russell eased out of her battered sex and pulled her up to him. He worked quickly to release her hands, then tossed the tie down on the floor as she slumped back down to lay flat on his desk. She looked exhausted. A feeling Russell could well relate to.

Too tired to care about much, he opened his top desk drawer and yanked out a tissue, cleaning himself quickly before dropping into his chair. As soon as he had energy, he would offer to do the same for her, but right now, he had to sit, before his tired legs gave out.

Breathing heavily, Tamara turned her head in his direction and smiled softly. It wasn’t just the look of a well-satisfied sex partner. It was the look of a well-satisfied lover. “Sex strike over?”

“Is your denial over?”

She chuckled and rose shakily to a seated position. To his disappointment, she began to right her appearance. “Do you always have to have the last word?”

“When it comes to you…yes.”

“Why?”

Russell scooted his chair forward, then pulled her down from the desk to his lap. She gasped aloud at the sudden movement, but made no attempt to rise; instead, she cuddled close to him. “Because you need a man to stand up for you and to you.”

His comment brought her head up, and she faced him with a cocky grin on her pretty face. “And you think you’re the man for the job?”

“No. I know I am,” he replied, utterly and completely serious.

“Stubborn.” The words were said with lack of heat, and maybe just a hint of wonder in her eyes.

“And you love it.” Probably as much as he was beginning to love her.

Chapter Eleven

“Are you nervous?”

“Nervous me? What do I have to be nervous about?” Tamara pressed the phone tighter to her ear as she paced back and forth in the women’s restroom. “Other than the slight chance my photos could suck, not sell, and cause the critics to laugh uproariously and flay me alive in the press.”

“Your photos are wonderful.”

“Says the biased best friend.”

“Please. Would I lie to you?”

“You better,” she muttered nervously.

“Come on, you can do this. I’m going to talk you through it.”

“A virtual hand-holding.”

“Yes.” Charlotte sighed heavily. “I’m so upset I’m not there tonight.”

“Woman, you’re seconds away from bursting.” Charlotte was officially on bedrest now. The last three weeks had been filled with false contractions and a slew of late-night phone calls. Just thinking about her friend took Tamara’s mind off her show. She was more nervous for the petite woman than she ever could be about this stupid show. “Even if Ty said you could come, I would have put my foot down. You should be in a hospital.”

“I should be with you bragging about how talented my best friend is.”

“Who would you brag to?” Tamara asked looking around the empty room. “There’s no one in the bathroom.”

“Are you still in there.” Charlotte’s exasperation was loud and clear over the phone line. “Girl, get out of there and go face your adoring public.”

“I’m too nervous.” Despite her words, Tamara made her way over to the entrance. Even though she knew it was stupid, she cracked the door and peeked her head out to see if anyone was laughing and pointing in the direction of the five pieces she had hanging up.

So far so good.

If attendance was anything to go by, she’d say the show was a big sucess. She was one of six other photographers who had their work on display at the Inner Eye, but other than the few family members she’d invited and the owner of the gallery, Tamara didn’t know a soul. Like the big stupid that she was, she’d made her mother and cousins promise not to come near her during the exhibit, too afraid she would use them as a shield to avoid talking to people. She could see the error of her ways now that she was hiding in the bathroom like a big loser.

Get a hold of yourself
, she said to her inner coward. This wasn’t the first time she had work on display, but it was the first time it’d been as personal to her.

The five photos she selected featured Russell prominently in three of them. One of him on a horse in the corral. Another she’d selected from the photos taken from the first night in her apartment. The last one was a shot of Russell sleeping. She’d woken up one morning before him and just so happened to catch a glimpse of him sleeping face down, with one arm dangling off the edge of the bed and the sheet barely covering the gentle rise of his buttocks. Acting quickly, Tamara climbed from the bed and grabbed his cowboy hat and her camera. She postioned the hat to lean against the bed near his hand, and snapped several frames before the sleeping man awoke.

As soon as he did, though, they quickly put the camera right back to work. Taking pictures of the two of them that Tamara would never let leave the sanctuary of her darkroom. Still…it was fun. Almost as fun as every other thing they’d been doing together in the last three weeks.

Since that evening in his office they’d grown even closer. Tamara still wasn’t willing to discuss their relationship outside of sexual torture, but she was happy. A first for her.

“Come on, this is ridiculous. Where’s your momma?”

“Probably out there embarrassing me,” she whispered into the receiver as she took a tentative step outside the door. Dinah, her mother, was very proud of Tamara, and she didn’t care who knew it. It was as endearing as it was embarrassing, but it was a mom thing, so Tamara understood.

“And Russell?”

“He’s on his way,” she said as she walked farther into the room.

At least she hadn’t made him promise to stay away from her. Although she did try to make him promise to avoid her mother. That didn’t work so well, though. He’d already said he was going to make a point of introducing himself to her mother, despite what Tamara said. She knew her mother was going to love him once she met him. Dinah would love anyone Tamara cared about, and she cared about Russell, no matter how hard she tried not to. Somehow, someway, he’d wormed his way inside her heart, and she was having a hard time disliking it or much of anything he did. He was endearing that way, damn him.

“Good. At least one of us is there with you tonight.”

Maybe once he showed up, she’d grow a backbone and face her fear of failure. “True but…” Tamara’s words drifted away as she caught sight of the man in question. “Good goobaleegoo.”

“What? What?”

Tamara watched in awe as Russell made his way over to her through the crowded gallery. “Remember that moment you had when Ty walked into your office party?”

“Oh yeah.” Charlotte had a faint quality to her voice that by all rights no very pregnant woman happily married to a big strapping man should have when it came to her best friend’s man. “Russell show up?”

“Yes.”

“Is he dressed nice?”

Nice wasn’t even remotely close to how fine he looked. Over the last three weeks she had several opportunities to see him in work wear, but she’d never seen him like this. The tailored, black, four-button suit fit his muscular frame as if was made especially for him. “Black suit and tie.”

“Tell me…is he wearing a Stetson?”

“Oh yeah.” And he looked every inch like the yummy, elegant cowboy she’d come to know and lo—no, like. Strongly like.

“Damn.”

“Oh yeah,” she repeated, unable to say much more. All of a sudden, the butterflies that had been fluttering frantically in her stomach from nerves began to dance for a completely different reason. Her heart sped up as he approached her with a welcoming, soft smile on his face. And suddenly she knew without a single doubt that no matter what happened tonight, she was going to be just fine. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Uh-huh. You don’t need me now, do you?”

“Bye, Charlotte,” Tamara said, avoiding her friend’s question like the plague.

“Bye.”

She clicked the phone off just as he reached her side. “Sorry I’m late.” Russell leaned forward and brushed his lips across her own. The fleeting kiss was much too tame and short for the way she was feeling right now, but common sense and the last shred of dignity she had kept her in place and not on top of him as she truly wanted.

“You’re late?” Tamara hadn’t even noticed the time.

“A few minutes. How are you doing? Nervous?” Russell took her hand into his and caressed the back of it with the pad of his thumb.

“Please,” she bluffed. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” Russell turned so he was standing by her side and able to view the many people circling about. “This is exciting.”

“It’s all right.” Tamara downplayed her emotions as she peered around. “Lots of people.”

“Which means sales for you?”

“Only if someone outside of my mother and boyfriend buy them.”

“Boyfriend?” Russell glanced back at her, eyebrow raised.

The teasing tone in his voice caused her to flush. She’d never called him that before, and if he kept this up, she wouldn’t again. “Shut up.”

“Uh-huh.” From the laughter swimming in his eyes, she could tell she hadn’t intimidated him at all. Only fueled his amusement more. “Either way, your photos will sell,” he said confidently. “How could they not, with me as your subject?”

His bravado caused her to laugh. “Of course. What was I thinking?”

“I have no idea.”

Their bantering was interrupted by the arrival of a whirling dervish.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Lilith Zorg gushed as she pulled Tamara into an impromptu embrace. The gallery owner and self-appointed bohemian princess was as gregarious as she was outlandish, but she was also well respected for launching the careers of several artists. “Do you know what you are?”

“A nervous wreck.”

“No, you’re a nervous wreck who just sold her first photo.”

“I did?”

“Yes,
Slumber
.”

Tamara’s eyes widened in wonder as she tamped down the need she had to jump up and down and squeal like a little girl. “
Slumber
. Really?” The photo of Russell sleeping was one of her favorites. “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it, girl.” Lilith brushed her violet bangs from out of her eyes, pushing them back against her otherwise ebony hair. “They’re also looking at
The Dance
, but they want me to cut them a deal.”

“And?”

“And I’m letting them sweat it out for a second.”

“Don’t let them sweat too long.” Tamara was fine with a deal. The sticker prices were way beyond anything she would have charged in the first place.

“That’s my job, girl.” Lilith turned her rapt attention from Tamara to Russell and extended her hand to his. The many silver bracelets she wore clanked and banged against one another as she did, making the movement as musical as it was fluid. Tamara had seen her do that so often that it hardly registered any more. It was just one of those things Lilith did that made her stand out, as was the colorful muumuu she wore. “If it isn’t the muse in the flesh.”

Russell took her hand and shook it. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Oh, I would.” Tamara was clueless until she came across him in the corral. Whether he saw it that way or not, he was the inspiration behind her photos. “You are a big part of this.”

“I’d say big all right.” Lilith’s gaze roved boldly over him as he released her hand. “
Underneath It All
is one of my favorite photos tonight. I wasn’t sure if I should hang it on my bedroom wall or out here. That photo has garnished a lot of interest tonight from the
Brokeback Mountain
crowd.”

“The what?” Russell’s smile dimmed as he furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Them, honey.” Lilith pointed to a group of men standing in front of the photo taken in Tamara’s apartment that featured Russell with his shirt and pants opened. It focused less on his face and more on his body, every hard inch of it. “The group is getting bigger by the second.” Lilith smiled secretively at Tamara. “I think your photo is outing a few people tonight.”

“Outing.” Russell paled. “I think I need to see this picture.”

“You haven’t seen them yet?” Lilith’s voice rose, as if in surprise.

“No.”

Lilith gasped dramatically as if she’d been caught off guard.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” Tamara didn’t show anyone the photos before framing them.

“It’s a surprise all right.” And from the tone in his voice she could tell he wasn’t sure if it was a good one or not.

“Then allow me to be your tour guide, but I warn you”—Lilith looped her arm around his and tugged him toward her—“you might need to bring a pen to autograph a few chests tonight.”

“Lord, have mercy,” Russell muttered as he walked with Lilith over to the photos and the small group of admirers standing in front of it.

While Russell was busy with Lilith, Tamara went in search of her mother, to tell her the good news about the sale. It took a good fifteen minutes of hugging to satisfy her mother, who looked close to tears. Once she quieted the ecstatic woman, she motioned for her cousin to come and get her to take her home. Tamara’s nerves couldn’t have handled a minute more of the loving exchange. After saying good-bye to them, which took another five minutes, she went to find Russell. With the crowd around her photos, it took a few minutes, but she managed to worm her way next to him and slip her hand through his.

To her utter surprise, though, he didn’t take it like she assumed he would. Instead he took a step back and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. His abrupt movement caused her to step back herself in wonder. Was he really that upset over the photos she picked of him to hang? “Everything all right?”

“Of course.” His voice and eyes said otherwise, though. “I was just checking out the photos you hung.”

“Okay,” she said hesitantly. “Did you not like the ones I chose?”

“The photograph of Ty with his head on Charlotte’s belly is amazing.”

“Thank you.”

“And the ones of me”—he paused for a second—“are great. It was a bit daunting to see myself up there like that, but I’m amazed at what you were able to capture. You’re very talented.”

Now she was more confused than ever. “Then what’s the problem?”

“There’s not a problem, per se. I’m just a bit confused.”

“About?”

“When exactly you took this picture?” Russell turned to face the picture hanging on the wall in front of them. The picture of Christian. As soon as Tamara saw the photo of the man practicing roping, she froze. Damn. In the midst of everything she forgot to mention a few things to him.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. When did you take this?”

“I—” Before she could answer, her cell phone rang. She quickly grabbed it and answered it. “Hello.”

“Hey.” Charlotte’s voice sounded a bit thready.

“I can’t talk right now. Let me call you back.”

“I might be a little busy later. My water just broke.”

* * *

Even though Russell wanted nothing more than to talk to Tamara about the picture, they weren’t able to. The drive out to the Dollar for the first time in almost two months would be done in separate cars. Tamara’s vehicle was up and running now, and she insisted on driving her own vehicle out to the ranch. Part of Russell believed it was just her way of avoiding an argument. But it wasn’t going to work. They were going to have this conversation. It was only a matter of when.

The two-hour drive to Moreno Valley where the hospital was located seemed even longer, thanks to the rapid thoughts racing through his head. But by the time they pulled up to the hospital, he was calmer than he’d been in the gallery.

It also helped that Tamara was bouncing around like Tigger before he could even get the car in park. The woman had driven like a manaic, with him following. From the way she’d driven, he wasn’t surprised her car had been in the shop for engine repair. She was as enthusiastic on the gas pedal as she was in the bedroom.