Reckless Love: A Billionaire Baby Steamy Fantasy Multicultural Love Story Rockstar Romance (19 page)

Why did I go upstairs with him?
I asked myself.
What was I thinking?

Dawn’s rays were coming through the slats of the custom blinds, and the excesses of the night before were coming into sharp relief as well. She had wanted him so badly, the way he looked so vulnerable, so beautiful, so filled with desire, nearly silhouetted in that expensive car. She hadn’t been able to pull herself away from his embrace, hearing his heart beat against hers, his hard body pressed against her soft curves.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he had whispered into her ear before she had said, “Should we continue this evening elsewhere?” and he had asked her to come back to his place. That was a crazy thing in itself.
She pulled the cashmere blanket around her as she looked at the sleeping figure on the other side of the bed. Christopher’s usually expressive face wasn’t blank, exactly, but it was so guileless, so sweetly unprotected. She wished she could stare at him for the whole morning, just to memorize every aspect of him, the lines of his lips, the pores of his perfect skin, the pattern of his sweet, perfect stubble, clearly manicured for her delight.

So was the bed, for that matter. The sheets had to be at least an 800 thread-count. They felt like silk, wrapping around her with a crisp softness. She snuggled into them against her own will, thinking about how she should leave whether she wanted to or not. What she wanted to do was to struggle into his warm body, and never leave. Sink her lips into his, and lower herself onto his hardness, slip his hot length into her soft, wet folds, and gyrate until they were both on the verge of ecstasy. Instead she savored the feeling of the pillow top mattress for a few precious extra seconds before slipping soundlessly out of the bed, grabbing her clothes that were strewn in a path leading toward the bed, and tiptoeing toward the bathroom for a quick touch up.

Thank God we didn’t have sex last night,
she thought,
though we came damn close. He was one sexy motherfucker, and it took all her power to keep it at a level. Of course, that didn’t preclude a little oral exploration.
As she took a few sips of water from the sparkling crystal glass by the sink, her mind flipped through visions of his body, of what he did to her, what she did for him – the way he tasted, his salty hot petal-soft skin against her lips and tongue, as she took him inside, tongue swirling around the veiny surface to his light groans. Her womb was contracting with each image, almost doubling her over in pleasure.

How he buried himself between her legs, his mouth slowly sucking in each lip before the tongue gently circled her center, making her wail with desire and pleasure in one. When he entered her with his fingers at the same time, she had wrapped her dark legs around his light shoulders, her hands gripping his silky dark hair, guiding him closer into her.

Why had she done all that? Alisha’s disapproving face was floating in her mind.

“Sure, these white boys like to come around, but sometimes they just want a little taste of the
dark side.”

“The dark side.”

She rinsed her face and mouth and finished dressing before slipping out the door and padding across the carpet, running down the stairs and shutting the heavy front door behind her with a quiet click. She was ready to grab a coffee then catch the next cab she saw, to rid herself of her shame and her stupid decisions.

Christopher turned over and extended his arm, feeling for Teagen’s body. A cold realization settled on his warm awakening consciousness when he was met with just the silken feel of the bedsheets, instead of her soft skin.

He opened one eye, warily, to see nothing. He listened, hoping he could hear some coffee being made, or the white noise of the running shower, but there was nothing. Just the same silence there was every day.

His heart grew empty.
Of course she left,
he thought.
People leave, that’s what they do.

He pulled the sheets around him and stared into nothingness while he tried to process the events of the night before. He hadn’t expected to be so carried away, so filled with desire, and dare he say it? Even love.
Love? At this stage of the game? That’s madness.
The way she had clutched at him. Their breathing, their moving in unison. Each touch a promise of more. But would that promise be broken?

But it
was
love, somehow. It was the small spark that just promised to grow into a raging inferno, and the feelings they had the night before had just proven that that was the case.  Unfortunately that spark was something that could have two other consequences. If denied of oxygen it could never grow. And if it’s not controlled, it could burn down his life, and everything in it.

Christopher closed his eyes again and willed sweet sleep to return, but to no avail. The tight, choking feeling that had formed in his heart was keeping him awake. And eerily, though different in scope, he recognized it as the same feeling he had had after his father had left. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” I said to myself.
“Pardon me?” Said the barista.

“I’m sorry! Whoops, cappuccino, please.”
“Coming right up. Rough night?”
I just smiled in return, not sure what to say
. It had been a great night. The greatest ever night. But now it’s over and I shouldn’t have done it, and now I am traipsing around town in the clothes I was dressed for dinner in the night before
.
Walk of shame anyone?

Yeah, not my proudest moment
.

“Take it easy on yourself. We’ve all been there,” said the barista, handing me a steaming cup. “Things will get better.”
I sipped it gratefully, sweet liquid filling my mouth. Then I rushed out, somehow more embarrassed that it apparently was written all over me that I had had a one night stand.
 

Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? A one-night stand?

It didn’t feel like a one-night stand.

But still, Alisha was right. Don’t give it up right away
. Still we may have slept together, but we hadn’t had sex per se, so I hadn’t exactly given anything up. Or did I? I was certainly giving up my dignity walking around town like this
. I jumped in the next cab and made my way back home as quickly as possible.

“Maia, why?” The last word was drawn out a million miles. I was laying on the floor in our apartment clutching a pillow, pausing every now and then to bury my fist in it.

“What? What why?”

“Why did I have to sleep with him the first night? Alisha said he probably just wants some of the dark side.”
“Dark side? Oh honey,” Maia shook her head. “Well if he wants that there’s nothing you can do anyway. But I don’t think that’s what this is about.”
“Well then why hasn’t he called me?”

“He’ll call,” she said.
“How do you know?”

“I just know.” She looked at peace, resolute. “He’ll call.”
“Auuughhh!” I rolled over a few more times, ending in a dramatic position with the back of my wrist over my forehead like the ladies in old pictures.

“Girl, you need to pull yourself together.” Maia was not impressed. “I’ve never seen you like this before. What got into your head.”
“Alisha told me that I shouldn’t give it up right away, and what do I do??”

“But you’re not giving anything up. You had a nice evening with a gorgeous, successful man, and then you went home with him, made out, had some fun and fell asleep. Am I right?”

“Well yeah,” I sniffed.

“That shit happens on the daily. Seriously. People do that. It’s not 1956 anymore, and plenty of people get together when they slept together on the first date.”
“Like who?” I felt a glimmer of hope.

“Like my sister, Malika,” said Maia. “And she’s married.”
“Who else?”

“Plenty of people,” she said. “Look. Go have a shower, and then we will do pedicures. I want you to look your best when Prince Charming comes to call.”

“Ok.”
“And make sure you exfoliate! I don’t want you all ashy!”

I laughed. “Ok, ok.” I shook my head. Maia. My best friend.

“Honey, how’s it going?” My mother’s voice was deceptively casual.
“Fine,” I said, crunching on a carrot.
“You know I don’t like it when you chew on the phone with me.”
“So why do you call at lunchtime mom?”

“Behave yourself Teag,” she said firmly, but I could hear the smile over the phone.

“Ok, so what’s the real reason you’re calling?

“A mother can’t just call her daughter because she wants to? There has to be some other reason?”

“Well there doesn’t
have
to be but with you I know there is,” I smiled. “Come on, out with it.”
“Well my friend Shondra was at Sotto the other night and she saw you.”
Here it is.
“Oh she did, did she?”

“Yes and she said that you weren’t alone?”

I didn’t say anything, just gave my carrot a few extra strong chews.
“Is there anything else mom?”

“Are you dating a white doctor?”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. She was so ridiculous.

“Maybe,” I said.
“Who is he? I have to know everything!” The glee in her voice came through crystal clear.

“Mama, this is why I don’t tell you things,” I said.
Best to make her wait. If she is going to pry like this I am going to make her suffer. Besides, he hasn’t called.

“Well just tell me one thing. What kind of doctor is he?”

The million dollar question.

“He’s a baby doctor, mom.”
“Like an OB?”

“Yeah, like that. But also a specialist.”
“In what?”

“Infertility.”
“Oh wow. Mm hm. Yes. Well you have to keep this one. You better keep this one on the line, yes you should,” she said. It sounded more like she was talking to herself at this point.
“Well it’s probably over now because he hasn’t called yet.”

“What?” Now she was panicking. “What did you do?”

“Nothing mom,” I said. “I gotta go, Maia needs the phone.” I pretended to cover the mouthpiece so that she would think Maia was speaking. “Ok Maia. No problem. Bye mama.”
She was still speaking as I put the receiver down. Thank heaven we still had an old house phone, otherwise she’d be on me every second of every day.

It was the fiftieth time he had pulled his phone out of his pocket to call her, and the fiftieth time he had done something else instead. Games, looking through pictures, examining other contacts, emails? Any new emails?

Christopher was flummoxed.

Why has this girl shaken me up so much?
He asked himself. He walked over to the window, taking in the expansive view of the city. It was beautiful, and he could see the hospital from here, and his clinic, a few blocks away. That had been his life for the past years. Home, hospital, then home, clinic. Such a small radius to travel but still so important. Ok, occasionally the cabin, but - that was what had been important, work. It was even the only thing, for so long. But now there was this girl.
Teagen Mayfield.

He said it in his mind, then mouthed it. Visions of her eyes, her lips.
 

But he knew why she was so scary. It was the dream. He had had that dream again, with the little boy with her face. His son. This time it was a bit more elaborate. This time the boy had tugged his sleeve.

“I want mommy,” he had said.

“Soon. You’ll see mommy soon,” Christopher said, as he crouched down to meet the boy eye to eye. His own, blue, eyes staring back at him.

He dialed the phone and cleared his throat.