The Savvy Sistahs (18 page)

“Not on your life.”

“You can’t leave me out here naked like this.”

“Wanna bet?”

And with those last words she quickly sped off and rolled up her car window to drown out the sound of Dalton’s loud curses and got royally pissed when she heard him called her a stupid bitch.

When she was a few blocks away she picked her cell phone and punched in a few numbers. “Yes, hi, I’m a concerned citizen and I just passed Jones High School, and I could be mistaken but I think I saw a naked man lurking around. You may want to send a couple of your officers to check things out. Good-bye.”

She pulled into the next all-night food market she came to. After gathering all of Dalton’s clothes and belongings in her hands, she walked over to the garbage Dumpster and tossed them in. As she made her way home she thought of the other man she intended to visit in the morning.

Jesse Devereau.

Chapter 17

G
rey glanced down the list of names he had accumulated over the past few weeks and wondered why he felt that he was omitting something vital.

The information he’d received had not been helpful other than to verify that Lorenzo Ballentine had not been in the United States within the last month. Unless he was working with an accomplice, Ballentine’s name could be scratched off the list. That still left a number of people Grey wasn’t ready to eliminate just yet, including Brandy’s secretary. It had been discovered that the forever cheerful Donna Fields had been having a secret affair with Horace Thurgood during the years they had worked together. Why the romance had been kept a secret was anyone’s guess, but Grey’s investigators had been able to determine that the woman had made several trips to New York to visit Thurgood over the past six months. If the woman resented Brandy for Thurgood’s decision to leave, that would give her a motive for wanting to harass Brandy. Then there was Thomas Reynolds who still occasionally drove by the hotel to check on Brandy’s whereabouts.

Grey pushed back in his chair. His shoulder was beginning to ache. So was his back. And he didn’t want to think about his lower extremities but then a different kind of ache was lodged there. It was one only Brandy could relieve. He glanced over at the clock. It was after midnight.

“You’re still at it I see.”

Grey jerked his head up and met Brandy’s gaze. She stood in the doorway wearing a bathrobe. It was similar to the other one he’d seen her in before but this one was red.

The lady in red.

And just like the night before, the sight of her took his breath away.

She moved away from the doorway and took a step into the room. “I had trouble sleeping,” she said by way of an explanation as to why she was there.

Grey nodded but he didn’t take his eyes from her. “Got thirsty again tonight, too?”

A smile tilted her lips. “No, I’m not thirsty but I thought I’d find something to read after I gave up counting sheep.” She walked over to a magazine rack and pulled one off the stack. “Maybe this will do the trick.”

He saw the title,
Hotel Management
. “I guess there’s a possibility that it will.”

Brandy lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t sound convinced.”

Grey shrugged his massive shoulders. “It depends on the reason you can’t sleep. I think you need to acknowledge what’s keeping you awake. What’s keeping us
both
awake.”

Brandy stared at him, licking her lips unconsciously. A flicker of heated desire flamed inside of her. This man had the ability to mesmerize her, turn her on without even trying. Then there was this honesty between them, no game playing. They called things as they saw them like two mature adults. But then, on the other hand, they were cautious people. They knew the score. They knew what they wanted, the price they’d have to pay if they decided to take it.

But tonight she wasn’t ready to get serious about anything or anyone. Tonight she needed to feel free, uninhibited. She didn’t want to remember that someone was trying to put the fear of God in her.

“Did your mother ever tell you stories?”

She blinked when she realized Grey had spoken. “Stories?”

He smiled. “Yes, bedtime stories. My mom used to tell us stories every night. Those stories would help me to sleep.”

Brandy quickly remembered her childhood. “The only stories my mother would tell were about ‘those damn Bennetts.’ But my Gramma Idella used to read me Bible stories whenever I would visit her. Why? Do you have a good story that might put me to sleep?” she asked, amused. A bit of humor felt good right now and lightened the moment between them. Sexual tension was slowly creeping into the room. She felt it and by the darkening of his eyes knew that he felt it too.

She watched as he came around the desk to sit on the edge. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the jeans he wore and the hard erection she could make out through the denim. At that moment the lightened moment between them suddenly vanished when sexual awareness took over.

He wanted her. Just like she wanted him. He was trying like hell not to want her, but she knew there were some things your body just couldn’t hide and for a man an arousal was one of them.

“I’m willing to come up with a story if you care to listen,” he said lightly, and she realized he was trying to downplay their sexual attraction, their combustible hormones that wanted to do their own thing.

“Hey, I’m game,” she said indulgently as she dropped down in the recliner in the room to keep her knees from wobbling. She was up against too much man and her body was letting her know it.

“All right then. Here’s my story.”

Brandy watched as he shifted positions so his predicament wouldn’t be so obvious. “Once upon a time in the Land of Masters.”

“The Land of Masters?” she asked raising a brow.

“Hey, work with me here. This is my story, right?”

She nodded. “Right, and I do apologize. Please continue.”

“Once upon a time in the Land of Masters lived this boy who wanted to grow up and be a man. A very strong man. When he got older he saw there were too many bad guys out there so he decided he wanted a job that would rid the land of crooks, robbers, and thieves and make the Land of Masters safe for everyone to live. Then one day he got word that there was this damsel in distress. Some wicked person was trying to steal her crown. So the boy who had grown up to be a man decided to go do whatever he could to keep the damsel safe in the land where she lived that was called the Land of Mousketeers.”

Ignoring Brandy’s chuckles, Grey continued. “At first he didn’t really want to go and leave the Land of Masters, but he was convinced that he was needed to help slay the damsel’s dragon. However, when he got to the Land of Mousketeers, he found a damsel who really wasn’t in distressed. She was just a little pissed that someone had the nerve to try and take something she owned. Something she’d worked hard to get. And the boy who had grown up to be a man also noted something else about the damsel when he got there.”

Brandy noticed that Grey’s voice had deepened and his gaze was searing into hers. She also saw the rise and fall of his chest and could almost hear the pounding of his heart even from across the room. The erratic beat was almost in tune with her own. And if that wasn’t enough to make her draw in a shallow breath, she couldn’t help but take note that the bulge of his arousal through his jeans had gotten larger and looked harder.

She nervously licked her lips and tried to ignore the perspiration that was beginning to form on her skin and the ultra hot heat that began consuming her body. “What?” she asked quietly. “What else did he find?”

He eyed her for a long moment, as if silently debating to continue. “He found that this damsel wasn’t a country bumpkin, nor was she an orange grove old maiden. He discovered that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and was indeed the fairest of them all. She was a woman who, without even trying, reminded him that he was a man and made him think about mating for the first time in nearly three years.”

Brandy swallowed deeply. “Mating?”

“Yes, mating. All day and all night. But not your typical mating. The boy who had grown into a man decided that typical mating wouldn’t do for this damsel. She needed something way out of the ordinary since there wasn’t an ordinary thing about her. She was in a class by herself. Savvy. High-class. Sexy. He thought all those things described this damsel and he suddenly found that he was the one who was in distress. Instead of concentrating on the task he’d been sent to do, he found that his mind and his thoughts were consumed with other things. They were filled with thoughts of her.”

Standing, he slowly walked to stand in front of her as his gaze continued to meet hers. “He couldn’t help but wonder how her breasts would taste in his mouth, how her body would fit against his and how her legs would feel wrapped tight around his waist. He also wondered just how wet her body could get when she got turned on and what sounds she would make when he entered her. He thought about taking her on the desk, the kitchen table, the floor, the wall, the shower. Anything was game. You name it, he’d thought about it. But what he thought about more than anything,” Grey said, his voice low, deep, guttural. “Is how it would feel coming inside of her.”

Brandy became too numb to move, too aroused to speak. Her skin suddenly became sensitive, and anything touching it served as an irritant she needed to be free of. Her clothes suddenly felt sticky, damp, and she felt the need to get out of them.

Grey took a step back when Brandy stood. He watched through desire filled eyes as she slowly began removing her clothes. First came the robe, which dropped at her feet. His breath got lodged in his throat when he saw the short, transparent nightgown that was then revealed. She released the thin straps of the gown and when it was added to the pile at her feet he stood still as his gaze feasted on her, every single part of her body that he had dreamed about for the past few weeks. The lighting from the lone lamp in the room glowed bright enough to illuminate every portion of her body and he was seeing every curve, every angle and every shade. He felt his body harden even further when his gaze locked on the area between her legs.

“Now I have a story for you, Grey.”

Her words, spoke on a whisper, capture his attention and he forced his gaze to her face and met her eyes. “What’s your story?” he asked, barely able to get out the words.

“There once was a lady who lived in a shoe. It was a very classy high-heeled shoe. She found she most enjoyed living in the heel section of the shoe, high away from the occasional mud that often got stepped in or slung on the shoe. But every once in a while she liked to travel to the middle of the shoe because that’s where the lining was, and it was where she felt most protected, most comfortable. She had never wanted to venture to the toe area. It was the part that often got stepped on and she didn’t intend for anyone to ever step on her. But one day she found herself suddenly in the toe area and she got stepped on many times and it hurt. It hurt badly. And a part of her thought she would never be able to get back to the heel again. But she was determined to make it, whatever it took. And after a while she did. So now she’s back at the heel again but once in a while she remembers the middle, the lining, the area she felt most protected and most comfortable. But she was afraid to go there because it was too close to the toe where she remembered nothing but pain. She had promised herself if she ever made it back to the heel that she would never risk going back to the toe to get stepped on again. But then one day, along came this other shoe. She took a peek at it and saw it was the shoe of a man. It was black, shiny, all polished, thick soles, and wing tips. But then there appeared a roughness about it and the woman immediately got the impression that this particular shoe had once seen better days, but it was tough and had endured. The outside as well as the inside was made of thick skin, pure genuine leather of the finest quality. She quickly concluded that this was no cheap shoe. And what made it ultra special was that the man who lived in this shoe was like the shoe he wore, with all the same qualities and for the first time she didn’t feel afraid of being stepped on. He gave her his protection, a chance to be comfortable. Without even realizing it he became her lining. She wanted to get to know him in a way she hadn’t known another man in over two years. She wanted to know how it felt to be a woman again, without any fears. She wanted to be someone who believed it wasn’t her fault that another woman had caught her man’s eye, and that it had less to do with her inadequacies than his. But more than anything she wanted to become a part of this man and only this man. She wanted to go dwell with him in his shoe.She wanted to know how it felt to be engulfed in strong arms, to be skin-to-skin with someone. She wanted to know at that moment in time that he wanted her. Only her. She needed the experience of being touched, kissed and desired by him. And more than anything she wanted to know how it felt to have an earth-shaking, mind-blowing, toe-curling orgasm and scream his name from her lips.”

Without pause, Grey reached out and cradled Brandy’s face between both hands. “Get ready to find out,” he whispered huskily before pulling her to him and letting his mouth hungrily devour hers in a tongue-tangling kiss.

It was a kiss that promised to give her everything that she wanted and her body writhed against his, needing a closeness she’d never before experienced. His kiss made her mind block out everything except him, the man claiming her body and soul, the man who was eating away at her mouth with a hunger that was driving her over the edge, and the man who with every lick of his tongue was destroying two years worth of deprivation.

Grey felt himself losing control when the need to mate with Brandy ripped through him with a blazing force and he was driven with the desire to hear her scream. He broke their kiss and began removing his own clothes, tearing off his shirt with relentless speed. He watched her eyes as he removed his jeans, pulling them down over his hips and down his legs. He tossed them aside and his briefs quickly followed.

He heard her sharp intake of breath when she saw him displayed, and the longing to be inside of her, now, buried deep, was a physical thing, sharp, potent, fierce. He reached up and picked her up into his arms and carried her over to the desk and sat her on it.

“Open your legs for me, Brandy. Wide.”

She did. Automatically. Without reservation. And he went between them while she wrapped her legs completely around him and gripped his shoulders. She felt the heat of him slowly enter her, hot, large, and she took him in, inch by excruciating inch, until they were so close, connected, joined that it was hard to tell where her body ended and his began.

He groaned and the sound made her tighten her nails on his shoulder to hold on. She saw the eyes that looked at her, deep, glazed and felt the heat of him buried deep within her. He took his hands and lifted her hips off the desk surface for an even greater penetration, then opened his mouth against her throat and took a nip, leaving his mark on her skin, her body.