Deborah Mello - Truly Yours

“Precious Lord, bless this food that we are about to receive for the nourishment of our bodies. And make us ever mindful of the needs of others. In Christ’s name we pray. Amen.”

“Amen,” Camryn echoed, lifting her gaze to his. A burst of nervous energy fluttered in her midsection and she quickly shifted her eyes back to her plate.

“Is something wrong?” Darryl questioned as he pulled a forkful of food into his mouth.

She shook her head. “No, nothing at all,” she said, not willing to admit that it had been quite some time since she’d been in the presence of a man who prayed so readily, so openly and with such ease. Her father was a praying man. She had often imagined what it might be like to be in a relationship with a man who actually walked his faith. As she pondered the possibilities, she cut an eye toward Darryl, who seemed totally focused on his meal.

She was taken aback when Darryl leaned across the table and lifted a forkful of her pasta. She watched as he slid it past his lips and chewed. “Was it good?” she asked, amused by his boldness.

Darryl nodded easily, unconcerned by his brazen behavior. “Very. So is the tuna,” he said, passing a bite of his own dinner in her direction. “Here, give it a try,” he cajoled. Camryn rested her hand on his as he guided the flatware toward her mouth. Heat wafted in the core of Darryl’s groin as he watched her take a bite, her tongue slipping sweetly past her lips, her fingertips tapping gently against his skin. It was suddenly hot and both reached for their beverage glasses at the same time.

He chuckled softly and Camryn laughed with him. Turning back to their meals, they resumed the small talk, discussing everything and nothing. A spirited debate about politics and education was engaging, with both making valid points that gave the other something to consider.

Soon the hostess brought them dessert. Darryl hadn’t anticipated the decadent layers of mousse and pastry drizzled in chocolate and topped with whipped cream. Neither was he expecting it when Camryn dipped her manicured finger into the sweet treat, drawing it through her lips to her tongue. The erotic gesture lengthened a rock-hard erection in his slacks, the thick of it pressing tight against the fabric. Darryl quickly crossed his legs, accidentally kicking the table as he did. Their dishes and utensils clattered noisily.

The ensuing silence was thundering. It dropped down over the table like an unexpected storm. Both Camryn and Darryl refocused on the food on their plates, struggling with the rise of emotion that seemed to sweep between them. Darryl was chewing so intently that he bit down on his tongue. He cursed under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” Camryn asked.

His response was brusque as he threw his cloth napkin to the table and reached for his drink glass. “Nothing!”

She watched him, her eyes blinking rapidly. “And you’re yelling at me because...”

“I wasn’t yelling. I just...I...” Darryl stammered, his erection twitching for attention. He couldn’t find the words to say he was unnerved by her presence. It felt good to be with her and he wasn’t supposed to be having such a good time. She excited him and he didn’t want to be excited by Camryn Charles. He lifted his eyes to stare into hers. “Look,” he said finally. “We know we can get along. That should make your father and my brother very happy.”

She nodded. “I’m sure it will. Let’s just agree to smile and pretend we like each other until we get this job done.”

“Pretend. Right.” Darryl nodded. “And let’s agree that you have full creative control as long as your design encompasses all of my safety recommendations. And I mean all.”

“Agreed.”

Darryl sighed and then tossed back the last of his drink. He unconsciously licked his lips, his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip before he sucked it in and bit down.

“Dinner is on my father,” Camryn said as she suddenly stood tall, reaching for her clutch. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Boudreaux.”

“The pleasure has been all mine, Ms. Charles.” Still conscious of the rise of nature between his legs, Darryl hesitated for a quick moment, the two staring at each other awkwardly. “May I walk you to your car?” he finally asked as he felt the problematic fullness begin to subside.

She shook her head vehemently. “No. That won’t be necessary. I’ll be fine.”

“See you tomorrow, then,” Darryl called out as Camryn turned on her high heels and scurried across the room. “Have a good night!” he chimed as she reached the front door, gave a quick wave of her hand and disappeared outside.

Camryn rushed to her car, her cheeks heated. Once she was locked inside her vehicle, she dropped her forehead down onto the steering wheel, her breath coming in heavy gasps. Her nipples pressed hard against the fabric of her dress and moisture puddled between her legs, her silk thong saturated. It had taken every ounce of fortitude she possessed not to throw herself at the good-looking Darryl Boudreaux. The moment had become so heated that all she could think about was what it might have been like to have his lips pressed against her own. Camryn hated to admit it but if Darryl had asked, she would have agreed to almost anything.

She took a deep breath and held it, counting to ten in her head. When she finally blew the air out, her nipples had receded and the quiver between her thighs was almost nonexistent. Her breathing finally steadied and she started the ignition.

As she pulled out of the parking space, she finally felt a semblance of normal. It was unfathomable to her that any man could have her quivering so unabashedly without ever laying a finger on her. Camryn shook her head at the thought. Despite having known men in her past who’d excited her sensibilities, Camryn couldn’t recall any man who’d ever had the impact on her that Darryl seemed to be having.

Although everything felt out of sorts and the feelings she was currently experiencing for Darryl were completely out of her character, she knew that she could slow the momentum down and take back her control. And she was determined to take back her control. As far as she was concerned, Darryl Boudreaux would be one man who wouldn’t stand a chance of ever getting the best of her.

Chapter 4

“Really, it went well!” Darryl exclaimed, annoyance punctuating his tone. He shifted his gaze toward his brother and then back down to the morning newspaper.

Mason returned the look, skepticism painting his expression. “And you two ironed out all of your differences, in one night?”

Darryl sighed deeply. “What part of ‘I have it handled’ don’t you understand?”

Mason raised an eyebrow. “I just need to make sure we’re not going to have any issues with you and Camryn. You were a little hostile yesterday.”

Darryl stuck his face further into the newspaper he was pretending to read. If nothing else, he fully intended to ensure that nothing interfered with the project. He could not, however, promise that there would be no issues with Camryn Charles, because he already had issues with the beautiful woman. Issues that two ice-cold showers had still not resolved. Darryl shifted in his seat, recrossing one leg over the other.

He changed the subject. “I’ve arranged for Camryn and me to do a site tour this afternoon.”

Mason nodded. “Good deal. And if you’re sure you have everything under control, I might fly to New York tonight to surprise my wife.”

Darryl smiled. “Give Phaedra a hug and kiss from me,” he said sweetly.

Mason nodded. “Will do! And please, don’t screw up my building before I get back.”

“I won’t screw up your building, Mason.”

* * *

Hours later Mason and Kenneth swiped both their signatures across the final contracts, cementing the partnership between the two families. Camryn stood off to the side, an easy smile gracing her face. She fought not to steal a quick glance at Darryl. Throughout the entire meeting both had been unusually quiet and exceptionally polite with one another. And each had gone out of their way to avoid any form of contact with the other, eye or otherwise.