You Sang to Me

  “Why?”

  “Ratings. Everybody on the planet knows she’s nuts and people are going to tune in to the competition just to see her prove it.”

  “I thought she was a judge?”

  “She is, but she has a substantial role.”

  “Oh, dear. You’d better wear armor and a helmet.”

  “No kidding.” He washed his hands again and put Eunique out of his mind. He had gold dust to make. He took down the food processor and plugged it into the socket built into the table.

  After covering the now-hardened sugar with a piece of parchment paper, he used a mallet to break it up. When he uncovered it Dina snitched a shard and put it in her mouth. “This is good.”

  “Good to know.” Her assessment boded well for the show-closing act he had in mind. Placing the pieces in the food processor, he pulsed it a few times until they were fine as gold dust. He poured most of it into a glass container and snapped on the airtight lid. It would go into the fridge until tomorrow. He poured the small portion that was left into a small ramekin and set it on the table.

  “Want to help me clean up, Ms. Sexy Sous Chef?”

  She sidled over to him and loosely locked her arms around his neck. He slid his hands into the opened halves of her coat and gently locked his arm around her waist. Everything about her was tantalizing, from the heat in her eyes, to the bra—he opened the coat wider, to the man-hardening sight of the matching teal thong circling her waist and bisecting her bare legs. He slid his hand into the vee. There was something about a seminude woman that he’d always found sexier than one completely nude. Watching her response play out on her face, he lingered for a few silent moments; touching, teasing, dallying until her stance widened and her lips parted passionately. He leaned down and gave her a humid series of kisses. She tasted of sugar and he indulged himself while his fingers continued their sensual priming of the damp delta between her thighs.

  “I thought you wanted to clean up,” she whispered, as she shrugged off the coat.

  “That’s what I’m doing,” he countered and bent to taste his way down her bare throat to the warm mounds above the teal brassiere. He paid homage to each slowly. Her groan of pleasure thrilled him. She reached behind and undid the clasp and that thrilled him even more. She shucked out of the bra and tossed it aside and he feasted on her nipples as if they were sugar tipped.

  Straightening up, he watched her eyes slide closed in response to his bold circling of the damp nipples. She’d braced her back against the table behind her for support and he wished he had a picture of her with her nipples hard as blackberries and wearing only the thong and boots and the opened coat. A pic like that could make a man hard until Christmas. “Stay right there.”

  He took down a screened strainer from its hook on the wall and picked up the ramekin. Pouring some of the dust into the strainer, he gently sifted the contents over her breasts. The eyes watching him were hot and dark. Without a word, he leaned down and slowly sucked and licked away the sugar until she was glistening clean.

  She groaned as if she were being passionately tortured.

  Liking the lazy, sambalike movements of her hips, he sifted more sugar down her torso and followed the sweetness down to her belly. Kneeling, he dabbed a finger in the strainer and painted a circle around the whorl of her navel. He reached around to caress her partly nude bottom that was rising to the licks. Her breathless gasps rose on the silence.

  “Morgan,” she moaned.

  “What?” he asked. He slid the wet strip of fabric away from the aroused flesh it sheltered and she arched erotically.

  “I’m going to come.”

  “Just a minute longer, baby. Don’t fly yet.”

  He had one more spot he wanted to sugar, so he dipped a finger in the dust again and slid it over the ripe bud and took it into his mouth.

  She buckled and let out a raw scream that only made him increase his tribute. The finger that slid into the already rippling canal made her body arch and tighten. He placed his free arm around her hips and held her there so she couldn’t get away and continued to feast while her raw screams filled the room.

  By the time he let her go, he had to catch her to keep her from melting to the floor. Picking her up, he could tell by the way she was moving that she was still riding the orgasm. Morgan was hard as a bar of stainless steel. “Like that?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  Grinning, he picked up the ramekin and carried it and her into his bedroom.

  CHAPTER 9

  The next morning, a bleary-eyed Dina was awakened by the sound of her mother calling from the hallway, “Time to get up, Dina. Breakfast’s almost ready.”

  It took Dina a moment to remember who and where she was, but she answered by rote, “Okay. Be down in a minute.”

  Lying there in the silence, the memories of last night flowed back hot and heavy and all she could do was smile. Talk about Hot Times with Morgan Todd. He took her the moment he laid her on the bed and she wasn’t mad at him. Lord. They’d showered together at some point, and then it was her turn with the ramekin. By the time she dusted her way down his body, he was all but begging for mercy. Aunt Grace had to have heard them, in spite of the soundproofing, but neither of them cared at that point. It was the most erotic sexual encounter she’d ever had, and she and Morgan had had some doozies in the past. Nothing equaled last night, however, and she was amazed she’d made it home.

  More than anything she wanted to go back to sleep and wondered if there was such a thing as a sexual hangover, but Jasmine and Rick were getting married in a little over four hours. The maid of honor would be needed.

  She crawled out of bed and told herself that once she got dressed and put on her makeup, no one would know she’d gotten less than three hours of sleep. Except her still-crooning body, and Morgan, of course.

  After another shower and breakfast, Dina was in her room getting dressed when her mother knocked on her opened bedroom door.

  “You look gorgeous, Mama.”

  Lynne did a quick twirl in her long smoke-gray dress that was topped by a beaded gray jacket.

  Dina was dressed in a dove-gray, sleeveless silk gown. The string of cream-colored pearls accented her bare throat. She checked herself out in the vanity mirror. “I love the color and the gown is gorgeous, but sleeveless? Did the bride forget she was getting married in November?”

  Lynne looked amused. “I know. Grace tried to get her to choose something a bit more winterish, but you know our Jas. Once she gets her mind set, no one’s going to change it.” She stopped for a moment and surveyed Dina. “You look pretty gorgeous yourself.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So how are you and Morgan doing? He told your daddy he wants you back.”

  “He told me the same thing.”

  “Well?” her mother asked softly.

  Dina turned away from the mirror and faced her mother. “I really don’t know. One minute I want to run to him like a woman in one of those slow-motion old-school commercials. And the next minute a voice in the back of my head is saying, ‘Slow down. Remember what happened last time.’”

  “That’s understandable.”

  “He told me he loves me like he loves breathing. What’s a girl supposed to do with something like that, Mama?”

  Her mother eyed her fondly. “Men are a trip.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “You’ll figure it out. All I want is for my girl to be happy, whether it’s Morgan or not. Excluding Arthur, of course.”

  “Ma.”

  Her mother held out her arms and Dina went to get the hug. Her mother whispered, “I am so proud of you. So proud. I can’t wait for the child you’re going to adopt. You’ll be a good mother.”

  Dina hugged her tight. “Only because you raised me so well.”

  She received a kiss on her forehead for that.

  “As for Morgan. You’ll figure it out,” her mother promised. “Follow your heart and your head. Your father told him if he breaks
your heart again, he’ll shoot him.”

  Dina chuckled. “Go Daddy.”

  “Now, let’s go get Jas married before Rick comes to his senses.”

  * * *

  Morgan presented his mother with her surprise during breakfast. Jas and her bridesmaids were upstairs getting dressed, so it was just him and Grace.

  She cried when he set the beautiful gold-caged torte on the table.

  “So, are things working out between you and Dina?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m happy for you.” She gave him a strong hug. “You are such a great son.”

  “I have a great mother.”

  She glanced up at him with love in her eyes. “It’s been wonderful having you home.”

  “I wasn’t going to miss Jas’s wedding. I had an awesome time.”

  “And you and Dee?’

  He turned serious and shrugged. “Don’t know. Tried to show her who I am now, but?”

  “She’s gun-shy after what happened. You have to expect that.”

  “I know and I apologized a lot, but I love her. I know that now, and I don’t want anyone else.”

  She cupped his cheek. “That’s good to hear. Things always happen as they should. Just hang in there.”

  “Thanks. So, are you going to eat the torte this time, or just look at it?”

  “I have to have a little piece. Such a shame to cut it, though.”

  “Mom,” he warned.

  “Okay. Get me a knife.”

  * * *

  The small African Methodist Episcopal church was packed with Jas’s students, fellow teachers and all manner of people from the various aspects of her very full life. Rick had a smaller entourage. His parents hadn’t shown.

  Dina and the rest of the wedding party entered solemnly to the soft dignified music provided by a small jazz combo made up of some of Jas’s musician friends. They took their places flanking the altar. The ring bearer was supposed to proceed in next, but apparently his twin sister wanted to make her appearance first because everyone in the church could hear them yelling and fussing. Their very-embarrassed mother and stern-faced father left their seats, and soon the ring bearer, looking mad as heck, marched his dark-suited self down the aisle, followed by his pouting sister who didn’t seem to care where she dropped the rose petals. Quiet laughter rose from all over the church.

  The organist sounded the opening strains of the Wedding March, and Jas, escorted by Dina’s dad, made her appearance. They began a slow walk down the aisle. She saw Grace crying. Lynne, standing next to her, teared up, too. Dina’s own eyes were wet. She glanced over at Morgan. His attention was on his little sister, and his eyes were shiny with happiness, as well. Dina’s dad, all decked out in his formal attire, looked very proud.

  Jas was wearing a strapless cream-colored gown made of satin. It had a wrapped bodice and a beautiful side-draped skirt. The shots of beaded lace made the gown even more stunning as did the elegant chapel train trailing in her wake. She’d opted not to have a veil, so it was easy for everyone in attendance to see the love on her face as Rick moved to stand at her side. The lady reverend began the service.

  When the time came for Dina’s dad to give Jas over to Rick, he placed a solemn kiss on his goddaughter’s cheek before taking his seat next to his wife. Dina listened to the words and looked over at Morgan, who met her gaze with such seriousness it gave her pause. She knew he was seeing the two of them standing there. Not knowing what to do with that, or how conflicted she felt as a result, she moved her attention back to the bride and groom.

  The reverend announced to the church, “If any of you know just cause why these two should not be united in Holy Matrimony, speak now.”

  She waited. She’d told them at the rehearsal that she would ask the question three times. She asked again. No reply. Just as she began to ask for the third and final time, Dina noticed a man and a woman standing in the aisle.

  The woman said, “I have something to say!”

  Heads swiveled. Dina saw Rick’s eyes widen. “Mother! Don’t you—”

  She held up a hand and said in a subdued voice, “I’ve come to apologize, Richard. First to Jasmine, and then to you.”

  Jas didn’t look like she wanted to hear it, but she gestured for Rick’s mother to begin. Dina could see Grace ready to come to the defense of her cub. Lynne placed a lightly restraining hand on her arm. Dina saw her mom say, “Just wait.”

  Lucille Lawrence, wearing a black full-length mink that screamed money, walked to the foot of the altar. “Jasmine. You have every right to cuss me from here back down to New Orleans, but I’m offering you my apologies from the bottom of my arrogant and unfair heart.” She had tears in her eyes. “Last night, after I talked to Rick on the phone, it came to me that hubris was going to make me miss my only child’s wedding. I couldn’t stand the thought of it, or me for that matter. Where’s your mother seated?”

  “Right here!”

  Mrs. Lawrence raised her chin with seemingly the last bit of dignity she would muster. “May I stay, please?”

  Grace didn’t respond at first. “That’s up to Jasmine and Rick.”

  Lucille faced the bride and groom. Jas glanced up at Rick who replied solemnly, “It’s your wedding, Jasmine.”

  While those in attendance held their collective breath, Jasmine studied Mrs. Lawrence. She finally nodded and said softly, “Rick and I are glad you’re here. Welcome.”

  Applause blew the roof off the church. Rick’s mother took Jas’s hands and squeezed. Tears clouded both their eyes. His dad stepped up and squeezed Jas’s hands and then clasped his son’s. They stepped away and took seats in the front pew with Grace, Lynne and Tony. With the drama done, the pleased-looking reverend continued the service.

  At the reception, Dina was slow dancing with Morgan to the music provided by the band. She saw Jas and Rick making their way around the reception hall thanking their guests.

  His parents were seated with Dina’s parents and Grace, and seemed to be having a good time. “Glad everything worked out for Jas and Rick.”

  “Me, too.”

  Dina was enjoying being in his arms.

  He asked, “So, when do you fly home?”

  “Sunday morning. How about you?”

  “Not until Tuesday, late. Leaving early tomorrow morning for the hotel. We tape Monday afternoon.”

  The other dancers flowed around them. Morgan wanted to hold her close to him forever. “So, what about us?”

  When she didn’t reply, he looked down at her.

  “I don’t know, Morgan. Let’s just enjoy this, okay?”

  It wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “I love you, girl.”

  She placed her cheek back against his chest. “I just need to think.”

  He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, either, but he didn’t press. “Whatever you say.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  “No big deal.”

  They were decidedly cool to each other for the rest of the reception. Morgan watched her as she danced with her father; he joined in on the electric slide and smiled ruefully when Jas tossed the bouquet and Dina ducked so that the flowers would sail over her head. He wanted her in his life for the rest of his days, but did she want the same thing was the question.

  When the reception finally came to a close everyone gave Rick and Jas their final hugs of congratulations and their goodbyes. They would be honeymooning in Egypt for two weeks and were scheduled to fly out later in the day.

  “You have a good time,” Dina said, hugging Jas fiercely.

  Jas hugged her tightly in reply. “Thanks again for my beautiful gown.”

  “You’re welcome. Call me when you get back in the States.”

  “Will do.” Her eyes turned serious. “What’s with you and my brother?”

  He was standing across the room and watching them with a drink in his hand. Many of the guests were leaving now that the festivities were over.

  “What do
you mean?”

  “You two have been beaming at each other all week, and now you’re acting like you’re allergic.”

  Dina sighed. “I don’t know, Jas. He wants us to start over, but I need to think about it.”

  “He has grown up, Dee, really.”

  Dina smiled. “What else would his little sister say?”

  “I know, but I also know that he loves you like crazy, always has, always will.” She leaned in and pressed her lips against Dina’s forehead. “Do what’s best for your heart. You’re going to stay my sister, no matter what.”

  They shared a long embrace, and then Jas hurried off to meet Rick standing by the door with her coat.

  Once the bride and groom departed, Rick’s parents left to return to the private jet they’d hired to whisk them in. Morgan drove home with his mother. Dina rode home with her parents.

  That evening as Dina packed her bag for her flight home in the morning, her dad stuck his head in her door.

  “Hey, baby girl. Enjoyed having you home.”

  “I had a good time.”

  “Why so down?”

  “Why are men so complicated?”

  “Morgan?”

  She nodded.

  He came in and sat down in the old wingback chair by her closet and she took a seat on her bed. Their positioning brought back fond memories of the talks they’d shared when she was younger.

  “The problem with men is that when they’re young, the brain resides somewhere below the belt.”

  She chuckled.

  “Seriously. It’s where we do most of our thinking until we get to be a certain age. I had the problem, so did Morgan. Unfortunately, you were the collateral damage.”

  Her lips thinned.

  “So the question you need to ask yourself is, has he grown up enough to be worthy of your love again? We all know he wasn’t before.”

  She loved her daddy, he’d always had her back. And he’d always been the one she could tell the truth to about what was going on inside, so she confessed. “I’m scared. It’s as simple as that. I can see he’s different, but I don’t want to have to go through that again.”