Scream My Name (14 page)

She raised a brow and he laughed huskily. “I didn’t mean it like that. The sex with us is amazing, you already know that. I’ve never had sex like this, but I think it’s because I’ve never met a woman like you. Never felt like this with anyone else. Never been in love before.”

Leila felt tears sting the back of her eyes. She ducked her head as emotions crowded in on her. She’d never felt as she did with anyone else either.

“How do you feel?” he asked, and when she saw the look of uncertainty and love burning in his bright gaze, her heart swelled.

“I’ve never had a man irritate me, piss me off—” she stopped and smiled when she saw his brows draw together, taking her statement as a rejection. “Or complete me like you do.” His grin split across his face as she finished. “I have no idea how this is going to end, Brandan—” She stopped when he placed a finger against her lips.

“This is going to end with my ring on your finger, and the two of us living our lives together. When I said I loved you, I meant it. There isn’t now, or never will be anyone else for me, Leila. I love you,” he stated simply. “How do you feel?”

Baby…he loves you. Love is worth more than a building, more than a business, more than anything. Don’t let it slip away from you. Grab on tight and don’t let it slip away…

She’d always “heard” her great-aunt from the time she’d died. Yet she’d always simply thought of it as her mind’s rumination and imagination. But, something about hearing her this time was different…

And remember when you sat in that old attic reading my Bible, you promised me you’d give me some grandbabies, Lee Lee…

This time she allowed the tears to fall as emotion crashed down on her, her heart beating erratically in her chest, the smell of flowers suddenly filling her nostrils, the distinct smell of freshly cut roses, her great-aunt’s favorite.

“Baby, are you okay?”

She stared up at Brandan through a veil of tears and hugged him. “I love you! And yes, yes, yes, I’ll marry you!”

As he held her tight, tears fell freely as she distinctly heard the husky, much-loved laughter of Aunt Sadie echo softly before fading away.

“A
ll I’m saying is I wouldn’t mind having a little adventure or two. Just to break up the monotony every once in a while would be nice. Nothing too dramatic, just a little somethin’ somethin’,” Larissa Jones told her employer and friend, rolling her eyes in disgust. “It’d be a nice break from my boring-ass routine, that’s for sure. What’s wrong with that?” she grumbled.

“I’m not saying anything is wrong with it, ’Ri. In fact, I know just what you mean.” Danita Adams looked at her best friend, and took a thoughtful sip of her Diet Coke.

“You? Girl, you’ve got it all. Hell, I wish I did half as much! Fine man, great career, moved on up to the east side in that new condo.” Larissa laughed and took a healthy bite of her double-decker Reuben sandwich. Her tongue snaked out to lick the French dressing that had oozed from the sandwich away from the corner of her mouth.

“How in the world do you know what I’m talking about?” Larissa continued above the noise of the busy diner as the two women sat in their favorite table at Aunt Sadie’s Café, their favorite haunt, having dinner together after putting in over twelve hours at the office.

Although it was late, nearly ten o’clock at night, the restaurant was packed. In spite of its cheap decorations and crowded space, where you were practically sitting elbow-to-elbow with other diners, it was worth it. The food was mouth-watering and Aunt Sadie’s was always packed until Leila, the owner, finally shooed the customers out, closing the restaurant for the night.

Danita had been coming to the diner since she’d first moved to San Antonio. After completing her dissertation and earning her doctoral degree in psychology, she moved to the city and started her practice, with her friend Larissa as her assistant.

In the early days before she’d found an affordable place to set up practice, Danita would come to the diner in the late afternoon, and although it wasn’t open for business, the owner, Leila, would invite her inside and serve her a hot cup of tea and a muffin as she worked.

It was then that she’d come to know the owner, and despite the fact that she often had worry lines bracketing her mouth, Leila would chat with her for a few minutes, with a word of encouragement or two before leaving Danita alone to do her work. She in turn would retire to her office in the back to “crunch numbers that aren’t there” as she would say, with a small, tired smile on her face.

When the two mile block of small shops and restaurants had been bought by a large conglomeration, Danita had worried for the owner. She knew the diner meant everything to her, and she had been fighting selling her small property, especially when she began to get pressure from the neighboring owners, begging her to sell so they could accept the lucrative offer from the large conglomerate. Many of the shop owners were older, and ready to retire. With the amount of money they were being offered, they had dreams of finally be able to retire in style and enjoy their twilight years.

But Leila had resisted, confiding in Danita that the diner was all she had left of her great-aunt, and she’d do everything in her might to keep it.

With relief, Danita had been happy for her when she’d learned that although Leila had sold the building, the restaurant would soon be moving to bigger and better digs across town in the next six months, thanks in large part to Leila’s new husband, Brandan.

Danita’s glance fell over the man in question.

After he and Leila had met, the man had fallen hard and had pursued Leila relentlessly.

Leila had resisted, claiming there was no way in hell she’d consort with the man trying to take her business away, but had fallen like the proverbial ton of bricks, despite her valiant struggles to the contrary.

Since their marriage, the tall ex-football player turned real estate magnate could be found at the diner helping out his wife and her small staff as she began the transition to her new place.

Feeling the slightest bit of envy, Danita watched him sitting at the counter in one of the high-backed stools, suit jacket thrown over the back of the stool, white sleeves drawn up his thick forearm, and small square-framed glasses perched on the end of his nose as his eyes scanned over the screen of his compact laptop, large fingers flying over the small keyboard.

When Leila swished past him, his arm snaked out and wrapped around her waist to bring her tall, lithe body close to his, and he gave her a leisurely kiss. When he finally released her, with a dreamy smile on her face, she floated back to the kitchen.

“You’re not having second thoughts about Warren, are you?” Larissa snapped Danita’s attention back to their conversation, one of her finely arched brows raised in question. “I thought you two were doing well,” she finished, taking a sip of her drink, her eyes trained on her friend.

Danita sighed and placed the chipped, near empty glass down on the cheap vinyl red and white checked tablecloth.

Warren should have been the man of her dreams. In every department he had it “going on,” as Larissa liked to remind her. Not only was he attractive, he also worked for one of the most prestigious law firms in the city, would probably make full partner before the year was out, and came from one of the most prominent families in the area as well.

Her father had been beside himself when she’d brought him home to meet them at Warren’s insistence. Danita hadn’t been ready to do that, fearing her close-knit family, as well as Warren, would read more into it than what it was.

She enjoyed being with him—it was a heady experience being on the arm of one of the most eligible bachelors in the country.

Their lovemaking was at times…predictable, and sometimes less than satisfactory. Despite the fact that there were times she hadn’t gotten hers, after he came, he’d kiss her, roll over with his mouth wide open, and be snoring within minutes.

And if occasionally he’d been so caught up in his latest acquisition for one of his high-powered clients as an investment attorney so that he talked about nothing else for hours, that, too, Danita tried to brush to the side.

When she’d first met him at a fundraiser, she hadn’t known who he was. Leila had been with her at the affair, and had gleefully informed her who’d she’d just “dissed and dismissed.” Shrugging nonconcern but secretly pleased that a man like Warren obviously wanted her, Danita continued to ignore him. Even when he’d found out her work phone number and had called, she’d had Larissa tell him she was unavailable.

He had pursued her with a vengeance after she’d not returned his calls, and after several weeks of courting her, she’d finally given in and gone out with him.

But, try as she might, feelings of frustration and irritation at his egotistical ways had been sneaking up on her of late, making her really start to question the relationship.

“I don’t know. I’m just feeling restless lately. Can’t quite explain it. No big deal, really. I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t work through. Haven’t you ever felt like that?”

Before Larissa could respond, the waiter, one who looked strangely familiar, came hustling over to the table, a smile on his lean, handsome face. Both women remained silent.

“I’ll just get these out of your ladies’ way,” he said smiling, a deep dimple slashing on both sides of his high cheekbones.

As he leaned across the table and retrieved the glasses in front of them, his hair, secured with a wide tan leather clip, flipped over his shoulder, and Danita’s eyes ran from the thick, dark, silky black ponytail to his face.

A face that looked as though it was sculpted by a master artisan, she thought in appreciation of his masculine beauty. Long and lean, it fit the rest of him. His dark eyes held the slightest bit of a tilt in the corners, and his eyelashes were thick and as dark as his silky black hair, giving him an exotic look.

Her gaze ran over the rest of his face, cataloging his long, somewhat hawkish nose, and his wide thin lips, hitched up on one side in an easy smile.

“Are you finished with this, ma’am?” he asked. Danita’s eyes left his face and glanced down at his hand, so lean yet strong looking as he grasped the edge of her plate. She raised her face back to his and felt her face heat as he picked up her plate and deposited it in the pan he held holstered to his hip by one arm.

Just then, Larissa’s cell phone rang and she fumbled in her oversize bag to retrieve it, and flipped it open to speak.

“Can I get you anything else? Maybe a refill of your drink?” the waiter asked Danita, and again she mutely nodded her head, holding out her glass.

When their fingers touched, she quickly withdrew after he’d taken the glass, feeling a small spark arc from his warm fingers to hers, placing her hands in her lap and feeling all of ten years old when his smile deepened at her reaction.

Out of nowhere, images of the two of them, naked, sweaty limbs twined around each other, tumbling on a bed of black silk sheets as he stroked into her body, flooded Danita’s mind.

The kaleidoscope of images slammed into her mind—his hard, gleaming, naked back covering hers as he rocked into her body from the back, his thick cock pumping in and out of her in strong easy glides, her face pressed against the bed, moaning in delight as he paid homage to her body.

The images were vivid, startling and graphic. So much so that Danita gasped, horrified when her panties were slick she’d gotten so wet.

While the images flashed through her mind, her gaze locked with his, and the smile on his face slipped.

He stared at her, his dark eyes deep and mesmerizing as they traced a visual path over her face, her eyes, down her nose, over her lips where they stopped. Danita’s hand went to her lips, and softly she feathered her fingers over them, feeling as though it were his lean fingers tracing the hot path over her lips and not her own.

When his gaze moved down her body, her hand, seemingly of it’s own volition, followed his actions, running feather light caresses down her own throat, watching him watch her as her hand trailed over one breast, softly, so softly she barely felt it, she allowed her fingers to stroke over her tightening nipples that strained against her bra as though begging her…begging him…for a kiss, a caress…

Her mouth was desperately dry.

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip to ease the dryness, and his dark eyes followed the path before he looked back into her eyes, his chest rising up and down heavily.

Realizing with a start just what she’d been doing, with her heartbeat so loud she was afraid that Larissa, and the unsuspecting star in her private porn flick, could both hear its pounding, she broke visual contact with the waiter, and with relief saw Larissa was still on the phone, her body partially turned away as she murmured into it.

Danita sat back in her chair, a fine sheen of sweat breaking out across her forehead. She raised a shaky hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

She could feel his eyes on hers, but studiously ignored it, resisting the temptation to look at him again. After what felt like hours, but could have been no more than mere seconds, she chanced looking up.

When she did, she saw that Larissa had ended her call and he’d taken her plate as well. As he removed Larissa’s plate, he upped the wattage on his smile, his even white teeth a brilliant contrast to his copper-colored skin.

He turned around and their gazes met again, but she quickly averted her eyes.

In her peripheral vision she saw him turn away with the large dishpan cupped under one muscular arm, and weave his way through the crowded café.

“Danita? Danita? Helloo, anybody home?”

Two manicured fingers snapped in quick succession in front of Danita’s eyes, startling her, forcing her to turn her gaze away from the departing man.

“Do you know that guy?”

“Uh, no. I’m sorry. I was just—”

“Daydreaming. Yeah, I know. You seem to be doing that on the regular here lately,” Larissa responded. She tilted her head to the side, and her dark brown eyes were full of concern. “What’s going on?” her friend asked, lifting a finely arched brow in question.

“No one—I mean, nothing is on my mind.” Danita hoped she didn’t catch her slip.

“Something
is
on your mind. You may as well tell me. You know I won’t stop asking until you do.” Larissa laughed and Danita smiled slightly in return.

She knew her friend wouldn’t stop, not until she’d gotten a satisfactory answer from her. Just like a dog after a bone, Larissa would be unrelenting in her search until she ferreted out the answer.

But as close as the two women were, Danita didn’t have a clue how she would even
begin
to tell her friend what was going on.

Especially since she herself didn’t know.

Everything in her life was going well. Her practice was growing, she had a condo filled with beautiful furnishings, a wonderful family, even if they were constantly watching her, and a man any woman would love to call her own. What else did she want, she wondered, suddenly feeling morose.

When the waiter came back over and set their drinks in front of them, Danita thanked him, trying not to allow her gaze to travel over his long legs that were encased in faded jeans or over the front of his jeans at the button-fly that was considerably more worn than the rest of the jeans. She crossed and recrossed her legs under the table.

When their gazes locked again, for a moment Danita feared he could read the crazy, instant lust she felt, the wild way her body was reacting from him being so near her. It was as strange and heady as it was puzzling.

It was a relief to Danita when he broke the connection and turned to Larissa, placing her drink in front of her. After he left the table, her heartbeat returned to normal and she answered Larissa’s question.

“Girl, it’s nothing. Just something I need to work through, that’s all…” she replied with a weak smile.

Danita picked up her glass and gazed down at the amber-colored liquid and slowly twirled the thin straw around and around inside the glass, her mind a million miles away.