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Love captured it between her supple lips and suckled it with a whimper filled with all of the unreleased passion that he understood so well.
Maleek’s dick hardened as his heart pounded.
The chemistry they both felt for weeks surrounded them as their kiss deepened and their limbs tightened around each other hungrily. Her breasts against his chest. Her mouth against his mouth. Her hands lifted to grasp the back of his head, and one of his hands dipped to massage the soft curve of her buttocks.
“Love,” he moaned into her mouth, fighting the urge to raise her dress above her hips and press her body down into the soft grass to fill her with every bit of the hardness she created.
But Love deserved more than that . . . no matter how heated and pleasurable he knew it would be for them both.
She rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed as she breathed deeply against his open mouth. “Damn,” she swore.
Maleek’s heart plummeted before the next words even escaped her lips.
“In a different time and place, this right here would have been everything I was looking for,” she said softly, raising her head to look into his eyes. “But I can’t change who I am or what I’ve been through to accept who you are and what your life outside of this moment would mean. I’m sorry . . . I’m so sorry . . . but I can’t. I can’t.”
She broke away from his hold and softly landed on her feet.
He reached out for her. “Love.”
She dodged him. “Please, Maleek. Let this go. Please.”
He stepped forward, wanting to embrace her again and taste her again and convince her that there was something special between them. Something bigger than either of their pasts or futures.
But the tears and torture in her eyes stilled him.
He let his hands drop to his sides as he watched her turn and walk away from him.
Chapter 7
“Summer Madness” —Kool & The Gang
One Week Later
What to do, Love?
Love sighed, closing her eyes as the sounds of John Coltrane floated in through the open door of the rooftop. For her, relaxation equaled a hot bubble bath and then slipping into silk men-style pajamas, followed by sipping on a martini while listening to John Coltrane playing as she lounged on the rooftop. The heavy scent of summer was in the air, mingling with the scent of the flowers blooming on the trees in the backyard.
Of course, Maleek’s passionate lovemaking would be hotter than the tub, his skin would be smoother than silk, his kisses would drug her more than the liquor, and the touch of that man would draw out sounds way sweeter than even the strains of classic Coltrane.
She had stopped counting the days—no months—since she had a man in her life. In her bed. At least the frustration was good for her creativity and her business. What else did she have to focus on?
Not that she needed a man, but she certainly was independent, smart, and forward-thinking enough to admit that she wanted a man in her life. She wanted the whole picture that she never quite accomplished with Byron. The dreams he destroyed with his infidelity.
Then again, maybe the reality was never there in her marriage. Maybe the fading of her dreams happened before his affair. They had the time put in, the dream wedding, and the perfect homes. But no children. No family portraits. No remake of the Huxtables—the perfect upper-middle-class black family.
Love sighed as she looked up to the Harlem sun, loving the feel of it on her skin. She longed for time to get away for even a mini-vacation to somewhere tropical where she could lounge on the white sand beaches in a bikini and do absolutely nothing. It was so ironic that she loved summer so much, but she was too busy grinding for her business to truly enjoy it. She knew, just like every other year, that it would rush to an end and she would be left with nothing but regrets. The coulda, woulda, shouldas.
The day was gone. Her workday complete. Her personal life unfulfilled. She turned on the rooftop and looked out at it. Decorated like an upscale spa and ready for entertainment. Promises unfulfilled of parties and gatherings for her friends. Days missed of lounging topless in the sun and even pretending to be at peace.
Her summer oasis. All of it going to waste.
What to do, Love?
She allowed herself one last glance up at the sun before she left the rooftop and made her way down the stairs. The sound of the music playing from her living room got louder with each step. She took a deep sip of her wine as she eyed the dozens upon dozens of roses filling her living room. All varieties. Various states of bloom. The scents mingling to fill her apartment with the aroma of sweet summer.
Love was being wooed.
Maleek hadn’t called or even come by her office. He even had his publicist call to reschedule their last appointment. But the flowers and the candies and the little gifts were constant. Along with the notes.
She sat down on the piano bench and picked up the polished wooden box where she kept the handwritten notes that came with each and every delivery. She read them aloud.
“Let’s enjoy the summer together.”
“I’ve never had a picnic in the park. Be my first?”
“Let’s forget the past and create a better future . . . together.”
There were more. Many more. Some funny. Some not. Most completely and utterly romantic. Baring a side to the millionaire athlete that intrigued Love.
She lightly touched her lips, still remembering their kiss that night. Nothing in the world had ever felt so complete to her. So right.
Love shivered at the memory.
Hungered for a replay.
Felt saddened for the loss.
What to do, Love? What to do?
Her mind said no. Her soul said yes.
She dug out the pale peach note card, even though she knew the words by heart: “What if we were meant to be?” she read softly, thinking of the bejeweled iPod she received filled with love songs, including Dondria’s “You’re the One.”
If only life could be that simple.
A relationship with Maleek meant a drastic change in her life. It meant stepping into a world she had sworn to leave behind. It was like choosing passion over privacy.
Was it worth it?
She had just closed the box and set it back on the piano when her doorbell rang.
“Coming,” she called out as she rose to her feet. As she made her way back across the living room, she briefly envisioned Maleek standing on the other side of the door with a smile sexy enough to make her climb right out of her PJs and into his arms. Her cheeks warmed as she bit back a smile.
“A little daydreaming between me, myself, and I is no one’s business but mine,” she mused as she opened the door. Because daydreaming was as far as she was willing to let it go.
“Cute PJs.”
Love leaned against the open door as her best friend, Tashi, strolled in, carrying yet another bottle of wine. “Come in,” she said dryly before closing the door.
Love watched as Tashi, a tall and svelte beauty with skin as smooth and light as butter, kicked off her Escada stilettos and slipped into the comfortable corner of Love’s sofa. “Everything okay with you, girl?” Love asked as she moved over to the piano to reclaim her merlot.
Tashi pierced Love with her eyes. “Yes, I’m good. I decided to check on you since I haven’t heard from you this week,” she said, smoothing her perfectly coiffed bob. “And then I find you in your pajamas at six in the afternoon. No way.”
Love poured her friend a goblet of wine and handed it to her. “This is the first early day I’ve had this week. I’m just glad to be home. I’m so busy with two events this weekend, and I have the bridezilla to top all bridezillas on my ass until her wedding in two weeks.”
“Anyone I know?” Tashi asked, leaning forward conspiratorially.
Love shook her head to keep herself from actually voicing the lie as she took a seat on the opposite end of the couch. Many times Love never revealed her clients to anyone and, upon request,
even kept them off the list of clients on her Web site. The most important thing to her was a successful event.
Tashi shrugged.
Love traced her fingertip around the cool tip of the goblet. “I never thought I would be single again,” she admitted with a touch of sadness.
Tashi smiled and reached over to lightly pat her knee. “It’s never too late, but you ain’t gone find him in here.”
Love laughed with just a touch of bitterness. “Yeah, but I’m so busy working that the only men I tend to come across are celebrities, and you know how I feel about that kind of exposure of my privacy again,” she said, thoughts of Maleek filling her head. “I like my life here in Harlem. I don’t need the spotlight . . . or to be in the shadow of someone else in it.”
Tashi gave her a long look over the rim of her goblet. “I understand your hesitancy . . . especially after your divorce,” she said as delicately as she could. “I feel for women having to have all their business out on the street like that. The good, the bad, and the ugly.”
Love nodded, bolstering her spunkiness with another deep swallow of her wine. “Maybe a one-night stand with a sexy man is just what I need. No commitments. No promises. Just one night to quench a thirst, you know?”
Tashi gasped scandalously.
Love tilted her head back and finished off the last of her wine. Seconds later, they both fell into a fit of childish giggles.
“Oh, God, I can’t believe I said that out loud,” Love moaned as she dropped her head into her hands.
Tashi rose from the sofa, taking Love’s empty goblet from her hand as she moved over to the bar to refill their glasses. “Me either,” she drawled with a delighted chuckle.
Love thought of Maleek. His energy. His vibe. His hardness. His looks. All of it was such a contrast to every other man she ever dated. Somehow, she knew that in Maleek’s bed she would find pure, raw, unadulterated sexual satisfaction. “God, sometimes I just want to get wild. You know?” she said aloud as she envisioned Maleek and the way his hands and his lips felt on her.
She moaned a little in the back of her throat as she felt her nature rise. The silk of her pajamas rubbed softly against her suddenly aching and taut nipples. “For him to just tear off my clothes and have his way with me. No questions. Just pure . . . animal . . . instinct.”
Love frowned as her last sentence flew out of her in an agitated rush. She bit her bottom lip before she cut her eyes up to see Tashi looking at her with the oddest expression.
“Alrighty then,” Tashi joked with a cuckoo whistle as she handed Love her drink and retook her seat on the sofa. “Exactly who is he?”
Maleek.
“No one.” Love sighed as she tucked her feet beneath her bottom on the sofa. Her desire for him, coupled with his pursuit—his full-court press for a relationship—was weakening her. Tearing away at her reservations. Breaking through the emotional wall she carefully placed around herself.
What to do, Love?
Fire, passion, and attraction were good things—hell, great things—but in the end, she was way too smart and way too together to let the chemistry between her and Maleek manifest. He might fill up her dreams, but she refused to let his overwhelming presence, life, and stardom fill up the world she had carved out for herself.
“Your destination is on the right.”
Maleek slowed the SUV as he lowered his head to peer out the window at the row of brownstones. He double-parked next to Love’s Range Rover, his heart hammering in his chest. He still couldn’t believe he was at her home.
Love. The mere mention of her name filled his head with images of her. A dozen of them. Love smiling. Love peering at him over the rim of her glasses. Love’s moan of pleasure. The look of desire in her eyes.
Was this a romantic move or some weirdo stalker shit?
Was he crazy?
This week it took everything in him not to call or to try to see her. But he couldn’t give up on her. On them. He couldn’t define or explain the way she affected him. His thoughts. His actions. His reactions. Everything. He couldn’t name it, but he didn’t want to fight it. He wanted to take a chance with his heart. He wanted to take a chance on Love.
Maleek looked up the street and saw an empty parking spot. He eased the vehicle forward and quickly parallel parked. Before he could change his mind, he slipped on shades and pulled his brim down low on his head before hopping out to walk back up the street to her brownstone.
Yuri hated that Maleek decided to venture out alone, but at worst, Maleek figured he would run into fans wanting autographs. It was Love he worried about, knowing how her ex’s fame had affected her life. He understood. He got it. At times, his fame was a mixed blessing. There had been private moments of his own life played out in the press, but he asked for the fame. He stepped into the spotlight.
Maleek knew he had to show Love that he could protect her. He would protect her.
Maleek jogged up the stairs and released a heavy breath before he rang her doorbell.
Minutes later the door opened and he was looking at Love in a pair of oversized silk pajamas. Her face free of makeup. Her hair in a loose ponytail. The scent of a clean and fresh soap clung to the air around her.
He thought she never looked prettier.
Her face was filled with surprise as she peeked her head out to look up and down the street. “Where’s Yuri?” she asked, reaching out to grab his hand and pull him into the brownstone’s foyer.
“I’m a grown-ass man,” Maleek balked. “I don’t need Yuri to babysit me.”
Love rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest, leaned against the wall, and looked up at him. “Why and how are you here?” she asked.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
Maleek and Love looked over at Tashi standing there with her mouth open.
Maleek slid his hands into the pockets of his pants as she circled him like he was a sideshow act. “Good Lord, how tall are you?“ she asked, tilting her head back.
“Six-ten,” he answered with a smile.
“Is Love planning an event for you?”
He watched as Love slipped deeper into her stylishly decorated living room and returned with a large designer tote. He bit back a smile.
“Hey, uhm, Tashi. Girl, I forgot I had a business meeting this evening, so let’s get together tomorrow. Okay. Alright,” Love said with a smile as she pressed the tote into Tashi’s hands and opened the front door.
“Girl, you never meet with clients at your house,” Tashi protested.
Love gave her a hard and meaningful stare and a frozen smile. “I will call you later. O-kay?”
Tashi smiled and took her bag, slipping it up onto her shoulder as she stepped out onto the porch. She grabbed Love’s hand tightly. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Love,” she said with a soft smile.
“I’ll call you.” Love closed the door and then turned to Maleek.
He had been quietly sitting back, watching their comical exchange.
“What are you doing here, Maleek?” she asked, sounding agitated, crossing her arms over her chest.
Maleek frowned. “I thought we should finally talk about what happened the other night. What has been happening between us since we met.”
Love shrugged. “Nothing happened. You asked me out on a date and I exercised my God-given right to decline.”
Her anger surprised him. “Look, I’m sorry I got your address from Ayannah, and I should have called first.”
Love snorted in derision. “Exactly,” she snapped.
Maleek made a face like “Huh.” “Okay, this is turning out to be the biggest mistake of my life.”
“Then why did you do it?” she balked as she glared at him. “I certainly didn’t want you to.”
“Just like you didn’t want me to kiss you, right?” he countered, feeling dumped upon.
Love arched a brow. “Puh-leeze.”
Maleek threw his head back and laughed. “Don’t pretend you don’t want m
e,” he told her with the utmost confidence.
Love joined him in his mocking laughter as she leaned toward him. “You are so full of yourself or shit or whatever.”
Maleek had to admit he liked the feistier side of Love—it surprised and fascinated him. His eyes darted down to the fire burning in her eyes and her chest heaving in anger. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked absolutely beautiful. Behind the reserved and quiet appearance was a fire that had lit a spark within him. “Did you forget that I’m your client?” he tossed at her. “Do you tell all your clients they’re full of shit?”
“Just the ones who randomly come by my house and invade my personal space.”
Maleek threw his hands up. “This is not going like I thought, so I’m out, Ms. Lovely,” he said, turning to the door.
“I’m curious, just what did you hope would happen?” she asked.
Maleek paused in the open doorway and then turned to look down at her. “I thought you would be happy to see me. I thought you would agree to go to dinner with me. I thought we would talk like two mature adults about our feelings and our reservations about getting involved. And I thought I could convince you that having you in my life is important to me, Love, and that I would move heaven and earth to make you happy. That’s what I thought.”
He saw the shift of emotions in her wide, expressive eyes, and it pleased him to know his words had affected her, because they were the truth. “I don’t know where a relationship may go. In my position, Love, I’m taking a chance on you just like you would take a chance on me. It may last the summer. It may last a lifetime. All I know is you make me feel things that no other woman has ever made me feel, and that has to mean something.”
Love closed her eyes and released a heavy breath. A tear raced down her cheek as she dropped her head to her chest.
Maleek’s heart tugged and he closed the door to wrap her in his arms. It felt like home. It felt like a victory. It felt like winning the finals. It felt like seeing his mother’s smile. It felt like everything that was right in the world.
“I wish I could make you feel what I feel,” he told her in a low and thick voice.