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Lost in a Stallion's Arms (Kimani Romance) Page 7
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Luke slipped his arms back around her waist, spinning her around to face him. The look in his eyes was pure, unadulterated lust, his hunger setting every nerve ending in her body on fire. Both of them felt like they were going to combust, heat radiating from every open pore. As Luke continued to move against her, his left arm holding her tightly around the waist, his right hand moved up the length of her back and his palm came to rest against the back of her head. Then without warning, Luke slipped his fingers into the short length of her hair, his palm cupping the nape of her neck. He tugged gently as he dipped her over his arm.
The gesture took her by surprise, causing Joanne to gasp loudly, and then he leaned down over her, pressing his mouth against the curve of her neck. The sensation of his lips against her bare skin was electrifying, overwhelming her senses, and Joanne moaned loudly, forgetting that they were surrounded by a crowd of people. Desire raged rampant between them. The sensations were intense and unyielding.
Luke planted a soft trail of kisses up the length of her neck toward her chin. Joanne tried to murmur an objection, but only a low hum bubbled past her lips. Her eyes locked with his, and before she could draw her next breath, Luke slowly caressed her mouth with his own, grazing her lips once, and then again, the soft touch teasing.
Joanne pressed her palms to his chest. Her clarity was suddenly skewed, desire sweeping every coherent thought from her. She could barely remember her own name as he lifted her back up. Luke smiled, moving to wrap both arms around her as he pressed his cheek to hers.
He whispered into her ear, his breath blowing hot against her flesh. “I’d say that was just my intro to foreplay. To give you a full definition, I would need a whole weekend alone with you.”
Joanne struggled to breathe, words caught tight in her chest as she tried to ignore the hands that glided like hot coals against her skin. The music had transitioned to a slow and seductive tune. Without missing a beat, the two had slowed their roll, their gyrations measured as they continued to move one against the other. A slow smile pulled at her lips as she lifted her eyes back to his.
“I think I get the picture,” she said softly, stammering ever so slightly.
Luke smiled back, his expression smug. “Are you sure? Because I don’t mind painting a complete portrait for you. I don’t mind at all!”
Pushing herself away from him, Joanne glanced quickly around the room. “I’m sure,” she said, her gaze returning to his. “I’ll have to pass.”
Luke eyed her curiously. “Why?”
“Because we’re friends. And I don’t engage in foreplay with my friends.”
Chapter 8
It had been a good night. Luke was still riding high from his time with Joanne. She had allowed him another dance as the music changed and the tempo shifted to something a little faster. Sometime later, both perspiring lightly under the warm lights, he’d pulled her to him tightly, whispered into her ear and guided her back to her seat.
Settling herself back in the cushioned seat, she’d waited patiently while he ran to the men’s room, returning to her side as quickly as he could manage. A waiter had appeared with two glasses of merlot, depositing them carefully onto the table. Nodding, Luke had flashed her a toothy smile, winking all-knowingly as though they shared some deep, dark secret.
“Thank you,” he’d said loudly over the music, his smile warm and alluring. “You dance beautifully.”
Joanne had smiled sweetly in response. “No, thank you,” she’d said warmly. “Twelve years of dance lessons finally paid off.”
He’d chuckled, nodding. They’d talked for a while longer and then she’d left, wishing him a good night as she departed. It would have been a very good night if he had been able to convince her to stay, but she wasn’t hearing his arguments.
“I would really like to,” Joanne had said. “But I’m going to be out of town for a few days. I need to get home and pack. My ride is coming early in the morning.”
“Oh? Where are you off to?” Luke had asked, curiosity pulling at him.
Joanne had smiled sweetly, her mouth curving easily toward the ceiling. “I thought I would surprise my mother for Mother’s Day.”
Luke had nodded his head. “That should be fun. I’m sure she’ll love getting out of town for a few days.”
Joanne had simply smiled, not bothering to respond or correct him before wishing him a good night. As she had made her exit he had been left staring anxiously after her.
Luke sighed, and then he took in a deep breath of air, filling his lungs. He really liked that woman. It felt good to be in her company. It had felt great to hold her close in his arms. Joanne amused him. She said more with a simple tilt of her head than some women were able to say in hours of conversation. Staring into her eyes he’d thought of a chocolate pool, the warm orbs cool and calculating.
Noting every detail of each other, the evening had gone better than expected. Luke knew she had been feeling him, as well. He was sure of it. His face bloomed into a wide grin. He was certain Joanne Lake was feeling something for him, too, and he knew one way to be sure.
Pulling his car off the main roadway, he came to a stop, shifted the transmission into park and reached for his cell phone. He dialed the last number in his call list, anxious for the party to answer on the other end. When she did, Luke fought to contain his excitement.
“Joanne, hey! I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”
The young woman chuckled softly. “Not at all. Is something the matter?”
“No, why would you ask that?”
“Maybe, because I just left you? I thought we just said goodbye for the night.”
“We did, but I had a brilliant idea,” he said, wincing. He was suddenly thankful that she couldn’t see the embarrassment that crossed his face. He could only imagine what she must have been thinking. Maybe his good idea hadn’t been that good after all.
“And what was that?” Joanne asked curiously.
“Lemon meringue pie!” His excitement registered over the phone line.
Joanne laughed again. “Would you care to elaborate?”
“There’s a great little place I know that serves the best lemon meringue pie in the whole world. I’m dying to share a piece with you, and I figured it’s still early, so why not? You game?” He paused, anxious for her reaction.
“You mean right now?”
“Yes. Now is as good a time as any.”
Joanne was suddenly intrigued. She stammered, trying to think of one good reason why she shouldn’t. “I have to…pack…and…tomorrow, we—”
“It’s not even ten o’clock yet and it’s only pie. One slice. Besides, I’m not ready to end our evening. I would really love to spend just a little while longer with you. What do you say?”
Joanne smiled into the receiver, touched by the hopefulness in his tone. “I guess one slice can’t hurt me.”
Ten minutes later Joanne pulled her car into the empty parking space beside his. By the time she had shut off her engine and unbuckled her seat belt, Luke was standing at her door, his hand on the latch, ready to open it. Joanne took a deep breath before stepping out of the vehicle.
When Luke leaned forward, gently kissing her cheek, she hadn’t been at all prepared for the affectionate greeting. Her knees began to shake uncontrollably, her legs threatening to drop her back down to her seat. Before she realized it, he’d taken her hand in his own, clutching it tightly as he entwined his fingers with hers.
“I’m glad you came,” he said, his voice dropping to a low whisper.
Joanne smiled sweetly. “Lemon meringue is my favorite.” She looked over her shoulder toward the entrance to the twenty-four-hour diner. “So this is the place that serves the best pie in the world?”
Luke laughed, shaking his head. “No. This was just a convenient place for us to meet.” He opened the passenger door of his car, gesturing for her to take a seat. “Let’s ride!”
As Luke guided her to the waiting helicopter, Joanne’s ey
es widened, reluctance dropping like a blanket around her. She couldn’t begin to fathom how or why the two of them were standing in wait on the heliport atop the Stallion corporate office in search of some lemon meringue pie.
The copter’s pilot greeted them both cheerfully, as if flying folks around in the middle of the night was something he did every day. Both men ignored Joanne’s feeble protests as Luke helped her into the aircraft, strapping her securely in her seat.
“This is ridiculous,” she sputtered, glancing from side to side.
Luke chuckled warmly. “Maybe, but since we can, why not?”
She rolled her eyes skyward. “Where are we going?”
“We’re going to shoot down to Houston. That’s where my favorite little café is.”
“In Houston?”
He nodded. “Yep, and the best coffee, too!”
Secured in his own seat, Luke dropped a casual hand against her knee, his palm caressing her gently. He seemed to sense her misgivings as he leaned in to whisper into her ear.
“You don’t look relaxed. Is everything okay?”
Joanne closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep inhale of breath. She couldn’t begin to tell him that nothing was okay, as a wealth of emotion exploded within her. Her mind and her body were suddenly battling for control. She wasn’t supposed to be feeling the swell of sensations sweeping through her, desire rising like a rampant fire. Instead, she just nodded, lifting her gaze to meet his. “I’m fine, thank you,” she muttered before turning to stare out to the darkened sky.
The city of Dallas swelled full and large beneath them, lights shimmering against the nocturnal landscape. Staring below, Joanne could just make out the Fairmont Hotel, the Dallas Museum of Art, Lincoln Plaza and the Trammel Crowe Center before the city disappeared from sight. As the helicopter moved swiftly toward its destination, the trip was feeling quite surreal to her.
Luke moved his hand from her knee, draping his arm along the back of her shoulders. The gentle glide of his fingertips over the length of her arm wasn’t helping the situation. His touch was like lighter fluid the way heat exploded from the center of her feminine spirit. Joanne resisted the urge to let herself settle comfortably against him, the desire to be cradled against his side consuming. She desperately wished she could move, to put a hint of distance between them, but there was nowhere for her to go.
The 240-mile trip from Dallas to Houston lasted just under an hour before the helicopter was touching down on the helipad. Joanne didn’t need to ask where they were, as the Stallion logo loomed high above the building on the roof. She heaved a deep sigh. Something in the back of her mind was whispering that she should have told the man no.
The owner of the Little Moccasin Café was a spirited soul with a bald dome the color of honeyed nuts. The old man greeted them both warmly, tapping a heavy hand against Luke’s back.
“Good to see you again, kid! It’s been a while. And who might this pretty little thing be?”
“It’s good to see you, too, Mr. Jessup. This is my friend Joanne,” he said, introducing the two. “You’re not closing up already, are you? We came a long way for some of your wife’s pie.”
Mr. Jessup grinned a toothless grin. “Nah! You know we open all night long, kid.” He led them to a side booth, gesturing for them to take a seat. “Your usual?” he asked, not bothering to wait for a response as he headed back toward the kitchen.
Luke laughed softly. “Thank you, Mr. Jessup,” he called after the old guy.
Joanne tilted her head. “How often do you get down here?” she asked, her curiosity heightened.
Luke shrugged. “Every now and again.”
“You just saddle up your helicopter and jet on down when the moment moves you, huh?”
Luke smiled, his eyes widening as he noted the cynicism rising in her tone. “Something like that.”
She shook her head. The man was unbelievably spoiled, she thought. She couldn’t believe how nonchalant he was about having flown miles just to get a slice of dessert. Then she tasted the pie.
The two slices of savory lemon confection the restaurant’s owner sat down on the table before them were heavenly. The sweet dessert sat in a puddle of warm, dark chocolate with a dollop of fresh whipped cream adorning the picture-perfect meringue.
Luke’s gaze was locked on her face as Joanne took her first bite, savoring the decadent flavors slowly. The smile that suddenly pulled at her mouth, lifting her lips, dazzled him. “I told you it was the best,” he chimed excitedly.
Joanne stifled a laugh, pulling a yellow paper napkin to her mouth as she swallowed. “Yes, you did,” she said as she pulled a second bite to her lips. “And you were right. It’s very good.”
“Worth the trip?”
Joanne lifted her eyes to stare into his. The look he gave her shimmered with excitement. Joanne was mesmerized by the energy that seemed to detonate her own. She nodded her head slowly, joy washing over her expression as she answered. “Very.”
When Joanne crawled beneath the sheets of her bed, turning off the light on the nightstand by the bedside, it was almost three o’clock in the morning. She was still trying to absorb the events of the evening—everything about her time with Luke Stallion was like nothing she’d ever experienced on any date before. Drunk with joy, Joanne’s excitement still bubbled like water from a fresh spring. With the way she was feeling, she fathomed that she’d never be able to fall asleep before her alarm announced that it was time for her to rise and shine.
Joanne couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. Their conversation had continued without skipping a beat as they’d enjoyed their pie and coffee. The man had made her laugh, eventually acknowledging his reluctance to even ask her to join him on their excursion. Joanne couldn’t help but admit that despite her initial reluctance she’d been thrilled that he had.
She also couldn’t help but admit that she was feeling guilty about them having shared such an extravagant evening when so many of the clients she served couldn’t begin to fathom such an opportunity. Luke hadn’t helped her with her conflict, the man having not an ounce of regret for his actions.
“I wanted to spend time with you,” he’d said, leaning back against the cushioned booth seat. “Why does my wanting to show you a good time have to be a crime?”
“It isn’t,” Joanne had answered, his admission moving her to lift her eyes in wonder. “It’s just—”
“Joanne, I don’t often meet a woman who I want to share moments like this with. You’re an incredibly beautiful woman, inside and out. I have the resources to show you a spectacular time, and I want to do just that. I want to share the things I enjoy most with you. Let me. Please?”
The man’s smile had been as sweet as a gentle rain on a sun-kissed afternoon. He’d leaned forward in his seat, reaching for both her hands as he’d clasped her fingers beneath his large palms. His look had been beseeching, his glazed eyes peering deep into hers. Joanne had fallen headfirst into his dark stare, completely enamored with Luke and the moment. With her resistance weakened, she hadn’t been able to find the words to give him a counter argument.
Rolling to the other side of the bed, Joanne heaved a deep sigh. As she drifted off into the warmth of a good night’s sleep, Luke Stallion filled her thoughts, nicely flooding her dreams.
Joanne was still thinking about Luke as she made the cross continental flight to Paris, France. She was grateful for the reprieve, a few days of down time to reflect on what she was feeling and get some perspective from an unbiased party. She smiled, knowing her mother would surely have an opinion about Joanne and her relationship with any man. She also knew it would hardly be impartial.
Joanne hadn’t given it much thought before, but she was grateful that she and her mother had a relationship at all. No thanks to her father, the two women had been able to form an extraordinary bond with one another. Joanne was acutely aware that not everyone was as fortunate.
Luke had told her he had no memories of hi
s own mother. The woman had died when he’d been very young. During one of their many conversations he’d admitted to feeling like he’d missed out on something very special.
Joanne turned to stare out the airplane’s window, her eyes skating across the ice blue sky. Luke had mentioned on more than one occasion how much he looked forward to meeting Joanne’s parents. And Joanne had promised to make those introductions. She just hadn’t assured her new friend that it would be any time soon.
As the pilot turned on the seatbelt sign, announcing their descent, Joanne shook her head. She had much to tell her mother. She trusted that her mother would have a wealth of advice to give back to her.
Lillian Taylor was standing in wait in the terminal of the Charles de Gaulle International airport. A wide grin spread across Joanne’s face the moment she saw the woman smiling warmly and waving her arms excitedly in Joanne’s direction.
“Mommy!” Joanne exclaimed as she rushed into her mother’s arms, yielding to the emotion that pulled at her heartstrings. Salty tears dampened her eyes as her mother held her tightly.
Lillian Taylor drew her hands across her daughter’s back and shoulders, caressing her gently. “Bonjour, le bébé. How is my darling daughter?”
“I’m glad to see you,” Joanne exclaimed, her eyes meeting her mother’s intense gaze. And she was, marveling at how little her mother had changed since her last visit.
Lillian’s rich black hair was pulled back into a loose chignon atop her head, wisps of tendrils framing her face. Her complexion was flawless, her makeup regime only including a hint of lipstick, dark eyeliner to accent her wide eyes and a faint layer of mascara painting her eyelashes. She hugged her mother a second time.
Lillian nodded, hugging the young woman back. “So what has your father done now, chérie?” she asked, maternal intuition kicking in.
Joanne shook her head. “Daddy hasn’t done anything. I just missed you is all, and I have so much I want to tell you.”