Читать книгу Flames Of Attraction - Brenda Jackson - Страница 13

Chapter 2

“Cheyenne, will you please stop being so stubborn and difficult.”

Cheyenne Steele rolled her eyes upward. Leave it to her two sisters, Vanessa and Taylor, to try to gang up on her, while trying to convince her to think their way. Any other time she would have conceded, just to be left alone. But not this time. Although she was still considered the baby in the family, now she had a baby of her own. No, she quickly corrected, she had babies of her own. Three of them.

It still amazed her that nearly eight weeks ago she had given birth to triplets. Her doctor had suspected the possibility of multiple births early, and the sonogram she’d taken by her third month had confirmed his suspicions. She had been shocked. The Steele family overjoyed. And she had let them convince her that she needed to come home to North Carolina to be around family when the time came for her to deliver.

The main reason she had agreed was because she had wanted her babies born in the United States instead of Jamaica where she had been living for the last three years. As a professional model she moved from place to place, and one day while on a photo shoot in Jamaica, she had stumbled across what she considered her dream home and hadn’t wasted any time purchasing it.

The problem her sisters were having was her announcement at dinner today that once the doctors had given the okay for the triplets to travel, she would be returning home to Jamaica. She was hoping that would be the first of the year.

“Be realistic, Cheyenne,” her sister Taylor was saying. “Handling one baby isn’t easy and you have three. You’re going to need help.”

Cheyenne frowned. The problem she had with her family was the same one she’d always had. Being the youngest of the three daughters, no one wanted to acknowledge her capabilities. That was why she had left home after graduating from high school to attend Boston University and only returned for visits. On the advice of Taylor, who was the financial advisor in the family, she had purchased a home in Charlotte a few years ago as an investment. That purchase made it possible whenever she did come home for extended visits for her to have a private place to stay.

“And I will have help,” she said as she opened the refrigerator to pull out the salad she had made earlier. “My housekeeper will be there and I’ve hired a nanny for the babies to assist me.”

“But it’s not the same as having your family close by,” Vanessa replied.

Cheyenne closed the refrigerator door and then leaned against it. She studied the two women who were putting up a fierce argument as to why she and her babies shouldn’t return to Jamaica. Her sisters were beautiful, both inside and out, and although they were getting on her last nerve, they were the best sisters a girl could have.

Vanessa, the oldest at twenty-eight, was the one who after getting a graduate degree at Tennessee State had returned home to Charlotte to work at the family’s multimillion-dollar manufacturing company alongside their four male cousins—Chance, Sebastian, Morgan and Donovan. In June, Vanessa had married a wonderful and handsome man by the name of Cameron Cody.

Taylor was the second oldest at twenty-six. Taylor had chosen not to return to Charlotte after college to work for the family’s company. Instead, Taylor had set her sights on New York after accepting a position with a major bank as a wealth and asset manager. Taylor was also married to a wonderful and handsome man named Dominic Saxon and the two were expecting their first child in a few weeks. Taylor and Dominic made Washington, D.C., their primary home, although they traveled quite a bit.

“You guys know how I feel about the two of you trying to mother me. I wish you wouldn’t do it,” she said, and immediately saw the guilt on their faces. Although she knew they only wanted what was the best for her, they were breaking a promise they had made on her twenty-first birthday, which was to let her live her life, regardless of the mistakes she would make along the way. They had pretty much kept that promise...until now.

“I know taking care of three babies won’t be easy,” she said. “But I’m determined to do it. Thanks to you, Taylor, I have enough money not to work for the next eight months or longer if I have to. The modeling agency knows my plans and is giving me the time I need. Besides, it’s not like me and the kids won’t come back for frequent visits. And I promised not to leave before your baby arrives, Taylor, so the two of you can relax. I don’t plan to sneak off during the night.”

She saw the reluctant smiles that touched their faces. Then Vanessa spoke and said, “I’m going to miss my nephew and nieces. I’ve gotten so attached to them.”

“Then I expect that you’ll come visit us often. Since Cameron purchased that house next door to mine, it sure makes things convenient.”

Vanessa laughed and shook her head. “Yes, it does.”

Cheyenne then stared at her other sister and figured something else was on Taylor’s mind. Typically, Taylor was the one known to stay out of everyone else’s business, mainly because she had this thing about anyone getting into hers. But lately, and seemingly with a lot of frequency, Taylor tended to ask questions that no one, not even their mother or male cousins or Vanessa—who sometimes acted as if it was her God-given right to know everything—would dare ask. Cheyenne had a feeling what was on Taylor’s mind and it wouldn’t be the first time during the past ten months that she had asked.

“Okay, go ahead and ask me, Taylor.”

Taylor frowned while absently rubbing her stomach. “Why? So you can tell me it’s none of my business again?”

“Umm, go ahead and ask. I might surprise you this time.”

She saw the doubtful look on Taylor’s face, but she knew Taylor wouldn’t be able to resist. “Okay, I want to know who fathered my two beautiful nieces and my very handsome nephew.”

Cheyenne closed her eyes briefly and could see the face of the man just as clearly as if he was standing right there in front of her. His facial features were embedded deep into her memory and would always stay there. And she had a feeling her son would be a constant reminder of him. Although her daughters had inherited a lot of Cheyenne’s mother’s Native American ancestry—exotic features like high cheekbones and an abundance of thick straight-looking black hair—her son favored his father. She had thought that very thing the moment he had been placed in her arms. He had his father’s dark eyes with the slanted eyebrows and the full nose and what already appeared to be a stubborn chin. But what she noticed immediately was the shape of her son’s mouth. It definitely belonged to his father. She, of all people, should know after the countless times during that one single night she had plastered hers to it. There had been no doubt in her mind on that particular night, just as there weren’t any now, that Quade had to have been the most handsome man she’d ever met. And his maturity had set him apart. He hadn’t played any games with her, but she had with him...at least at first.

She had lied to him about her age, stating she was twenty-eight instead of twenty-three. She’d feared that, had she been truthful, he would have walked away from her that night and there was no way she could let him do that. She had been attracted to him in a way she had never been to anyone else and she had wanted to explore what such a deep attraction meant.

“Cheyenne?”

Her eyes snapped open to find her two sisters staring at her. “Okay, his name is Quade and I met him on a beach in Egypt. It was a one-night fling.” She saw the latter statement didn’t seem to shock her sisters, possibly because they may have done the same thing at some time during their lifetime.

“And what’s this Quade’s last name,” Vanessa asked, staring at her over her glass of cranberry juice.

Cheyenne hunched her shoulders. “Don’t know. We were more interested in getting into each other’s bodies than we were last names.”

Neither of her sisters said anything at first and then Taylor asked, “And you’re sure he wasn’t married?”

Cheyenne inhaled deeply. “He said he wasn’t, but I wasn’t completely truthful about everything with him, so he might have fibbed a little about one or two things with me. However, I believe he was telling the truth about not being married.”

Vanessa raised a brow. “And just what did you lie about?” she asked.

Cheyenne moved away from the refrigerator and crossed the kitchen to the cabinet over the sink to pull out her teapot. “My age,” she said, turning back around to face her sisters, wanting to see their expressions when she answered. “I told him I was twenty-eight instead of twenty-three.” She saw the tightening of both of their features.

“And you think he believed it?” Taylor asked.

“Yes, on that particular night I’d gone for a walk on the beach after a long day of doing a photo shoot. My makeup was still on, which probably made me look a little older.”

Vanessa snorted and rolled her eyes. “Or he figured you were ripe for the picking and didn’t even care.”

Cheyenne laughed softly and said, “If he figured that, then he was absolutely right. I saw him and wanted him just as much as he wanted me.”

She couldn’t help but remember that night. Every single detail was burned into her memory. Never in her life had she desired a man as much as she had him, and on first sight. Her attraction had been immediate, her surrender had been ultimate and the ten hours that followed had been breathtaking, absolutely the best hours she had spent in any man’s bed. And although her experience was limited compared to some women, with those she could compare the difference was beyond measure. Quade had made her beg, scream and become a captive to passion of the most intense kind. She had literally been at his mercy the entire night.

“Cheyenne?”

It was only then that she realized that one of her sisters had been trying to get her attention. “What?”

“I know I asked you this before; it was during the time you were in your seventh or eighth month, and I inquired whether or not you felt you should try and find this guy and you said no. Have you changed your mind about that?” Vanessa asked.

“No,” Cheyenne said, shaking her head. “It was a one-night stand and he didn’t expect anything out of it, except what he got...what we both got that night—extreme pleasure. I don’t blame him for getting me pregnant. He used a condom each time. I saw it. I guess one must have malfunctioned.”

Taylor chuckled. “I think that’s an understatement, don’t you? Must have been one hell of a night to produce triplets.”

“It was.” She crossed the room to stand in front of them. “I finally got Mom to go home after convincing her I could handle things on my own tonight, and now I want the two of you to do the same. Dinner was great and I appreciate the two of you joining me, but I want to get some rest before the babies wake up. They’re still sleeping and if they stay on schedule, I’ll only have the six o’clock feeding to deal with.”

“But what if they want to eat at the same time?” Vanessa asked, seemingly alarmed at the thought of her sister caring for the babies alone. Someone had been there with her on a rotating basis since she and the babies had come home from the hospital. Even the wives of Chance, Sebastian and Morgan, had taken turns. Both Sebastian’s and Morgan’s wives, Jocelyn and Lena, were expecting and used the same excuse Taylor had—they were getting some practice time in.

“If that happens, then two of them will have to wait their turn. They have to start accepting the routine sometime,” Cheyenne said with a smile. The one thing she was blessed with was the fact that at least her daughters had begun sleeping through the night. Her son, however, was another story.

“Come on, Taylor, let’s leave since she’s determined to get rid of us,” Vanessa said with a laugh. She helped a very pregnant Taylor out of the kitchen and through the living room.

“Only so I can get some sleep,” Cheyenne said. “Besides, if I keep either of you here any longer, your hubbies will come looking for you.”

All three of them knew that was true. Because Vanessa’s husband traveled a lot, whenever he was home Cameron rarely let her out of his sight. And since Taylor’s baby was due the first week in January, her husband, Dominic, also kept her on a tight rein.

After her sisters had left, Cheyenne went into the nursery to check on her babies. Each was in a crib and the room had been beautifully decorated with a Noah’s ark theme, compliments of Sienna Bradford, an interior decorator who was also Vanessa’s best friend since grade school. Sienna, who had given birth to a beautiful baby boy last year, had offered to decorate the nursery.

Cheyenne’s announcement that she would be having triplets had sent excitement spreading through the Steele family, since there was no record of multiple births in the family. More than once Cheyenne had wondered about her babies’ father. Did he have a history of multiple births in his family?

The doctor had asked her a number of questions about the man who had fathered her babies, and she hadn’t been able to answer any of them. It probably hadn’t taken her doctor long to determine she had gotten pregnant by a man she hadn’t known for long.

Stealing a few quiet moments while the babies slept, she decided to stretch out on the sofa instead of on the bed. Cheyenne kicked off her shoes to lie down, feeling confident she could handle things just like she had told her mother and sisters. The baby monitor was sitting on the coffee table and would alert her when they awakened.

She had spoken with Roz Henry, her agent and good friend. Roz had fully understood Cheyenne’s decision to put her modeling career on hold for a while until the babies got older. Right now the thought of leaving them with anyone while she traveled didn’t sit well with her; and she just couldn’t see having their nanny travel with her just to take care of the babies. She wanted to be a stay-at-home mom for at least two years, and with her wise investments she would have no problem doing so.

The house was quiet and Cheyenne felt her eyelids getting heavy. Today had been laundry day. She had washed the babies’ laundry earlier and would fold it later. Her mother had encouraged her to get out and do something while volunteering to stay there and watch the babies. Taking her mother up on her offer, Cheyenne had gone to the hair salon and had planned to pay a visit to a nail salon, as well, but she had begun missing her babies and had rushed back home.

Cheyenne’s eyes drifted closed and automatically she thought about her babies’ father.

“Quade.”

It was an unusual name and she couldn’t help wondering if it was real. Whether it was real was not important now, but it could possibly be later when her children grew up and asked about their father. What on earth would she tell them?

The truth, her mind suddenly interjected. She would tell them the truth and would even assist them in finding him one day if that’s what they wanted to do. With only a first name to go by it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack, but she was certain even with the limited information she had, the man could be found eventually. While pregnant she had even entertained the idea of hiring a private investigator to locate him, but she had to consider the possibility that given her circumstances, he might not want to be found. Not every man relished the thought of being a father, and he was one three times over.

Thinking of Quade made her want to relive that night and her mind automatically went back in time, to a night that had changed her life forever.

* * *

He pulled her into his arms the moment they entered his hotel room and closed the door behind them, locking it. He took her mouth, thrusting his tongue inside while tangling his hand in her hair to kiss her deeply, even more so than those other two kisses they had shared on the beach.

She eagerly returned the kiss, thinking he was very proficient. He had a skill that almost brought her to her knees. When she was convinced she would melt in his arms, he broke off the kiss, took a step back and, with his gaze holding steadfast to hers, he eased down the zipper to his jeans.

She watched him remove his jeans, treating her to a strip show, the likes of which she had never seen before. He removed every piece of clothing except for a pair of black boxers. Sexy was too mild a word to describe how he looked at that moment. Tempting wouldn’t even do justice. He had broad, masculine shoulders and a taut, firm stomach. What caught her attention was all the thick, curly hair on his chest that extended down his stomach and tapered in a lush line down past the waistband of his boxers. She wanted to reach out and feel her way through the hairs on his chest before following the path downward.

And when he eased his boxers down his legs, that part of him that had been straining against them sprang free, making her eyes widen to see its size.

She swallowed as she stared at him. Entranced. Never before had any man looked more beautiful, so stunning, so blood-thickeningly gorgeous. He didn’t seem to have a problem standing there naked and fully aroused in front of her.

“Now for your clothes,” he said, making her fully aware of what he expected her to do. In fact, he backed up a few more steps to sit on the edge of the bed to watch. The way he stared at her made her nervous, but not in an uncomfortable way. It was the type of nervousness that intensified the nerve endings in her body and made her even more aware of him as a man. Because of her profession she was used to getting in and out of her clothes rather quickly, but never had she done so for an audience or more specifically, for one man. The thought of doing so for him sent an unexplainable thrill of excitement through her.

Feeling bold, brazen and downright hot, she held his gaze while taking off her blouse and heard his sharp intake of breath and watched his eyes darken when he saw she was not wearing a bra. She had been complimented on the shape and size of her breasts many times, especially by other models. They were the kind of breasts that women tried to imitate with enhancements. She was proud hers were natural.

She kicked off her sandals and then slithered out of her pants, working them down her thighs, knowing that he was watching her every move. She was left with one remaining piece—her underwear—a barely there thong that didn’t leave anything to his imagination. Everything was basically there, exposed, right before his eyes, and for some reason she didn’t feel uncomfortable when his gaze shifted to latch on to her feminine core with an intensity that heated her skin all over.

“Come here, Cheyenne.”

He said her name with a huskiness that she felt all the way to the bones and the look in his eyes made her realize even more so just how much he wanted her and how much she wanted him. Her feminine side longed for a connection with him in the most intimate way.

A sexy smile touched his lips as he held his hand out to her. On bare feet she slowly crossed the room and he widened his legs so that she could stand between them. He then pulled her close to bury his face in her chest, right in the center of her breasts, and inhaled her scent. And then she felt it, the wet flick of the tip of his tongue against her nipple. She felt the heat of desire when he closed his mouth over it, latching on to it and sucking it like a newborn baby. A ripple of sensations tore into her, hot and intense, and she automatically reached out and caught hold of his shoulders to keep from falling.

The greedy way his mouth was devouring her breasts made her throw her head back and release the breath she’d been holding. He continued to suck on her nipples with an intensity that made all kind of pleasure points gather in the area between her legs. She felt herself getting wet in the center and just when she thought she couldn’t handle any more, she felt his hand lower to that area. And when he touched her there, heat radiated from deep inside as he stroked her.

Her legs parted wider for him, giving him access to anything and everything he wanted, and his fingers entered her and began to explore her sensitive flesh. He first stroked with mild, featherlike caresses to get her comfortable with the invasion, and then with heated strokes that elicited groans of pleasure from her.

Nothing or no man had ever made her feel this way before. Her entire body felt achy with need. And if anyone had told her she would be in the hotel room with a man she had just met on the beach, she would never have believed them.

She knew, given her profession, most people would find it hard to believe that when it came to sex she barely had any experience. There was that one guy in college and another she had fancied herself in love with while working in Philly as a television reporter. But when it came to the bedroom, neither had known a thing about sharing. It had been all about them fulfilling their own selfish needs.

Quade was the first man she had been intimate with in four years. It hadn’t been a conscious effort on her part to abstain. Things had just worked out that way.

But this was different. She had been intensely attracted to him from the first, so intensely attracted that she could see herself making love with him right there on the beach if he had wanted it that way.

Suddenly he pulled back, removed his hand from inside her and she felt an immediate sense of loss. She met his gaze, stared as deeply into his eyes as he was staring into hers and watched as he inserted the finger that had been inside of her into his mouth, licking it like it was a lollipop of his favorite flavor, and letting her know how much he was savoring her taste. Seeing what he was doing made the muscles between her legs clench, stoked her desires into a feverish heat.

He stood and she felt herself being lifted into his arms and placed on the bed. He leaned over and caught his hand in the waistband of her thong and then slowly eased it down her legs. Instead of tossing it aside he brought the thong to his nose and inhaled deeply, as if he needed to know her intimate scent. She was at a loss to do anything, but stare at him.

And while she lay there naked, her entire body exposed before his eyes, for his pleasure, he moved his hand upward from the bottom of her feet, then pausing at her center, zeroing in on her feminine mound as if the sight of it fascinated him. Her breath caught when he began stroking between her legs before sliding another finger inside her again, testing her wetness, making her moan out loud.

“Quade.” She said his name, a deep moan from her mouth. “I need you.” And at that point she did. Every cell in her body was vibrating with that need.

“I’m going to take care of you, I promise,” he said while he continued to stroke her, building tension inside her. “But if I don’t taste you now I’m going to go mad.”

She caught her breath, almost held it when he slid down on the bed and placed a warm kiss on her stomach before arranging her legs over his shoulder, bringing him face-to-face with her feminine mound. He was so close she could feel his heated breath on the swollen lips of her femininity. She closed her eyes and let out a deep groan the moment she felt his heated tongue on her flesh, and then he pushed that tongue deeper inside her and began moving it around in firm, hard strokes, then pushing in deeper, withdrawing then inserting it back in deeper and deeper again, over and over.

She soon discovered he was methodical and intense with his kisses no matter where he placed them. Holding tight to her hips with his mouth locked on her, he was using his tongue in ways she didn’t know it could be used, taking it places she hadn’t known it could go and giving her the most intimate French kiss possible while greedily feasting on her.

She screamed when a climax hit with the intensity of a train derailment. She felt her body break into tiny pieces filling her with a degree of pleasure she had never felt in her life.

She felt him leave her momentarily, watched through a heated gaze as he reached into the pocket of his jeans to pull out a condom. She watched him sheath himself before rejoining her on the bed and settling between her trembling thighs where the aftershock of a gigantic orgasm still lingered.

He leaned down and kissed her and she could taste the essence of herself on his lips, and then she felt him, the head of his hard and thick manhood pressing at her wet center. She craved the contact, was almost desperate for the connection, and was consumed with an abundance of heat that was generated by his desire for her and hers for him. He was building a need within her, one that made her feminine core throb. And as if he felt her need, he pulled back from the kiss, met her gaze to see her expression and reaction when he slowly began entering her.

Their gazes continued to hold, stayed connected as he began penetrating her deep, stretching her wide, filling her with the very essence of him. She was extremely tight and for a moment she read the question in his eyes and decided to respond before he could ask.

“No. It’s just been a long time for me,” she explained. She hoped her words had sufficiently removed any inkling that she was a virgin.

“Then tonight we’ll make up for lost time,” he said huskily, slowly pressing deeper inside her, filling her to capacity.

“We’re perfect together,” he said, and it was then that she realized just how deeply embedded inside her he was. All the way to the hilt. Their bodies were joined as tightly as any two bodies could be. They just lay there, him on top of her, inside her, while they stared at each other, taking in just what that moment meant and contemplating what would be the next move.

“I’m going slow to make it last,” he whispered just seconds before he began moving. Flexing his hips, he ground his hard masculine thighs against hers for deeper penetration with each stroke into her, lifting her hips up with the palm of his hands and locking her to him to fill her even deeper.

He started off with slow, even strokes, just like he said he would do. Then the tempo changed, the rhythm was switched and he began riding her faster and with more intensity, with an even deeper penetration. He threw his head back and a guttural groan escaped from deep within his throat. Her body was in tune with his, with every stroke, and she felt sensations filling her, taking over her, setting off another explosion inside of her.

She sank her nails into his shoulder, screamed his name when everything was ripped out of her, igniting every nerve ending, every single cell. She could feel every strand of hair on her head, every intimate muscle clench him, pulling everything out of him as he kept going, thrusting into her with an intensity that brought on another climax. She screamed his name again at the same time he screamed hers. And she felt him shudder inside of her, actually felt the condom expand under the weight of his release.

It took awhile for the sensations to begin to fade. He leaned forward and kissed her, thrusting his tongue back and forth into her mouth the same way he had done to her feminine core earlier and making her come again just that easy. Never in her life had she enjoyed such pure pleasure—such deep, piercing satisfaction.

Moments later after he released her mouth she pulled in another breath as she felt limp, lifeless, completely satiated. And then Quade lifted up slightly, raised his head to meet her gaze. At that moment something touched her deep. Then he slowly lowered his head as his fingers caressed her cheek and seconds later he was kissing her again, a lot gentler this time, while whispering that he hadn’t gotten enough and wanted more.

She couldn’t help but inwardly admit that she hadn’t gotten enough and wanted him again, as well. She could tell from the feel of him getting hard inside her all over again that what they shared was only the beginning....

* * *

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted Cheyenne’s dream. She opened her eyes, a little annoyed at the intrusion. Standing, she stretched her body trying to fight off the lingering sensual sensations of her dream. When the doorbell sounded again she quickly moved to the door. The last thing she wanted was for her babies to wake from their nap. More than likely her visitor was one of her male cousins who periodically dropped by to make sure she was okay. She had to admit they were thoughtful and always had been, even while thinking they’d been somewhat overprotective of her while growing up.

She took a quick look through the peephole and blinked. Her eyes then shot open wide as she looked out the peephole again. Because she had just dreamed about the father of her babies her mind had to be playing tricks on her. There was no way he could be outside on her doorstep. The sun had set and the person was standing in a shadowed area of the porch so she couldn’t completely make out the man’s face. But from the build of his body—especially the broad, masculine shoulders—reminded her so much of Quade. Her one-time lover. The man who was constantly a part of her dreams.

She found her voice, yet it was shaky when she asked. “Who is it?”

“Quade.”

She sagged against the door as a gush of shocked breath rushed from her lungs. Why was he here? Had he somehow found out about her babies?

“Cheyenne, I need to talk to you.”

His voice was just as she remembered; ultra husky and as sexy as any man’s voice had a right to be. Knowing she couldn’t keep him standing outside forever, she garnered as much strength as she could and slowly began twisting the doorknob while asking herself how she would handle seeing him again when the mere thought of the man sent lust ripping through her body.

The door opened and she immediately met his gaze, finding it hard to believe that this wasn’t a dream and he was actually here, standing on her doorstep—in the flesh. The air surrounding them suddenly became charged—just as it had that night. And she couldn’t help noticing that also just like that night, his body was molded into a pair of faded jeans and a pullover shirt. Both oozed a degree of sexuality that warmed her skin and created an intense yearning within her. The man was as darkly handsome as she remembered. Even more so.

To make matters worse, he was staring at her the same way he had that night on the beach and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to recognize that look of blatant desire in his eyes. Like before, he was getting to her without very much effort and she fought back the urge to reach out and touch him, while convincing herself that her hormones were out of whack and making her crave something she really didn’t want and definitely something she didn’t need.

Inhaling deeply she tried to relax, fight off the shock of seeing him. She was determined to find out why he was there while refusing to consider that somehow he had found out about the triplets.

“Quade? I don’t understand why you’re here,” she heard herself say. “I didn’t expect to ever see you again.”

He continued to look at her. “I didn’t expect to ever see you again, either,” he said softly, yet in a masculine tone. “But I saw you on the cover of a magazine. And you were pregnant.”

She nervously licked her lips, having an idea where this conversation was headed. A part of her regretted that she had allowed Roz to talk her into doing that magazine cover. And what on earth was he doing looking at an issue of Pregnancy magazine?

“I want to know one thing.”

Cheyenne sensed what he wanted to know but asked the question anyway, preferring not to make assumptions. “What do you want to know?”

“Did you have my baby?”