You Called Me-ARE and Apple epub (17 page)

She followed his lead and stepped back, her dress fluttered out around her thighs. Found herself being spun around to have her back pressed tight to his chest. Kenya covered his hand flat on her stomach the other he threaded with her hand along her hip.

Tipping her chin up and back she peered over her shoulder. “You’re full of surprises, Blakemore.”

The moment swelled with acknowledgment of their relationship shifting from stolen touches gauging the others comfort threshold, to deliberate caresses full of sexual tension. Jonathan’s breath warmed her face.

“I want what’s under this dress.
Tonight
.”

At the table, Kenya traced her finger around the rim of her wine glass. Jonathan's declaration and request on the dance floor had her body purring. If he suggested they left early, she'd be in the car with the engine running. Soft lighting played over the linen draped over the table. Kenya rested her hand in Jonathan’s under the table in his lap. Threaded together she sensed tension masked under his cool demeanor. The tent in his trousers was any indication she was in for a long night of back bending sex. Her body shivered with that thought because they hadn’t gone there, but something told her it would be soon and she’d started wearing sexier underwear and not just the pretty white and yellow ones she loved from Victoria’s Secret.

She was impressed watching him introduce himself to everyone, the way he complimented or asked questions. He involved himself in her world not just eager to get her into bed. Points for you, Blakemore. 

“Mr. Blakemore, Kenya's pretty tight lipped about how you met...any reason to hide?” Morgan spat sarcastically.

If Kenya gripped his thigh any harder, she'd draw blood under her nails. Dumbfounded by her sister's blatant efforts to discredit her in Jonathan's eyes, she sat hoping it ended. It had bothered her mother when they made a scene and she fought not to jump across the table and shut her down. To her utter disappointment, it would only get worse.

“I deal in the relevant, Morgan.” Jonathan said setting his eyes on Kenya. “What's relevant is my woman is celebrating her promotion and I'm very proud of her.”

“We're all proud of her, Mr. Blakemore, especially me and her father. Kenya a smart girl,” her mother said.

Morgan snorted tucking her arms tight beneath her breast, then said, “Did you lose a bet, Mr. Blakemore that's why you won't say how you met?”

“Morgan, don't show all your ignorance at once. Let some of it be a surprise when we get together again. Say in ten years?” Kenya snapped. Strong fingers closed around her neck, Jonathan's strong grip massaged the tightening knot in her neck.

Her aunt spoke up, “Morgan, cut your sister some slack.” Her aunt scolded eyes squinted. “Been a while since she'd been on a date, don't scare her man away.” She winked and Kenya set her napkin on the table.

Her focused centered on Morgan's bare finger. In that moment, she realized why her sister was spitting venom tonight. They must have finalized the divorce, Morgan and her husband. Leaving would only aide in Morgan's little smear campaign to run her away from what should be a wonderful night of celebration. Squinting rubbing the back of her neck, the beginnings of a headache moved along her thudding in her temples.

“Babe you okay? We can go somewhere else. I don't appreciate the way she speaks to you,” Jonathan said a flush of red snaking up out of his collar to coat his thick neck. He was pissed. She gave in to his fingers on her neck massaging the tight tendons.

“She's not running me away from my own party.” Kenya looked into his face, could see he wanted to strangle Morgan. She did too. Everyone at the table sat uncomfortable stabbing at their food and Kenya never picked up her fork. 

“Mr. Blakemore, my sister isn’t as worldly as you may think. She’s a shy little girl starry-eyed that a man with a few dollars has taken an interest in her.”

“Morgan...shut up!” Surrounding tables quieted and began watching the show they were putting on, just what Kenya didn't want.

Her mother said, “Morgan's going through a tough time, honey. Maybe we can do this another night?”

“Momma Kenya doesn't care about anybody but herself,” Morgan groaned.

Kenya nearly choked on her wine.” You know what,” she grabbed the napkin from her lap plopped it on the table. Not tonight, not here, and definitely not with Jonathan present, she said, “I appreciate those who came to support me tonight. However, I will not sit through Morgan’s interrogation. Jonathan came to support me tonight instead of going to attend to important family business in Ireland.” Kenya pressed her chair back and allowed Jonathan to slip an arm around her shoulders. “Obviously he doesn’t have a hard time being there for me as you do, sister.”

“Sweetheart,” her mother started. “Morgan is just concerned.”

“No, Momma, you’re concerned. Morgan’s jealous. I’m not dealing with that anymore.” Shoving her chair back from the table, Kenya got to her feet tossing her napkin on the table. The party at the next table turned their attention on her and she had just enough decorum and class left not to snap at the gawkers and maintain her professionalism.

She watched Jonathan setting two hundred dollars on the table. “Kenya deserves better than this.”

Kenya said nothing as he escorted her out of the club into the cool night. Her heels clicked over the tile floors past the host desk where Jonathan grabbed their coats ushering them outside.

On the sidewalk, she stood beside her car once the valet drove it around. She spun around remembering she’d drove and didn’t want her mother stranded no matter how she felt about Morgan.

“Kenya,” Julia called, running from the blacked out glass doors of the club, out onto the sidewalk before she and Jonathan. Kenya sniffed chewing her lip frustrated the way the night has gone.

“I’m sorry, Julia. I couldn’t take any more of my sister and…”

Julia waved off her comment. “I think you went beyond accommodating just to invite her. You always said she’s never had your back and I feel so bad I didn’t understand the seriousness of her animosity toward you.”

“Thank you. I have to go back in there. Momma and Auntie don’t have a way home.”

“I’ll take care of them don’t worry,” Julia assured her and Kenya returned her loving hug and the kiss on her cheek. “Jonathan, it was a pleasure to meet you. Please take care of my friend. She didn’t deserve that in there.”

“Take Kenya’s car. See that her mother and aunt get home okay. Here’s my card. Call this number. Someone will pick the car up tomorrow.” Kenya felt the control he welded over people, listening to him talk. Julia never let anyone tell her what to do.  

“You mind, Kenya?”

“I don’t care, Julia,” she said, wiping a hand under her eyes. She could see Jonathan wanted to roar seeing moisture glisten on her fingers when she drew her fingers away from her face. “Tonight was supposed to be better than this.”

Jonathan cradled Kenya in the elevator up to the penthouse, brushing his mouth over her face, her gift in his front pocket. He’d give it to her later after she ate and forgot about tonight’s fiasco. Family should be a refuge not this, torture and selfish acts he would expect from his father not from a family this sweet woman came from. This pissed him off, if her sister were a man he would’ve punched him in the jaw for treating Kenya this way.

As the doors slid apart, lights at a soft glow accented the large space. Picking her up he carried her past the glass wall to the sofa, her sweet scent the piece missing from his home. If not for the fact he was pissed, he liked the warm feeling moving through him having his woman under his roof.

“We never ate tonight. Let me call have something brought up. Sit here.” Easing her onto the deep sofa, Jonathan unbuckled the tall heels. Somehow, he knew she wore thigh highs under the black dress, sliding his hand up her smooth hips he slipped the black hose down her legs enjoying the feel of her fingers running absently through his hair. Kenya’s attention focused out the window. She wore stockings without a garter…sexy Light scent of woman crossed under his nose and his mouth watered to push the dress up and taste her sweet skin.

Kissing the soft skin inside her thighs he pushed away before he lost focus and took her right on the sofa.

“What do you want to eat, pretty lady?” Rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, he pulled the menu card from a drawer in the table alongside the wall to the kitchen. “We have four different restaurants in the area.” He read off the selection of menus, “Italian, Indian or perhaps some Greek…or…American?”

A soft rumbling brought both of their gazes to the large window. A second wave moved in off the water behind soft pelts along the window. Hail hit the glass in bouncing off the balcony.

“I vote for something warm,” setting down the Indian menu, “Maybe some soup,” he suggested.

“Really, I’m not hungry.” She sighed, curling her warm brown feet under her hips on the sofa. Hands in his trousers front pockets, he held still as she made herself comfortable in his home. Heart beat a little slower, calmer knowing he did that for her.

Kenya propped up on her elbow and held out her hand. If he doubted what she brought to his life, Judge prancing over to her like a toy dog confirmed it. Kenya had both of them by the balls and the grip tingled up his back to squeeze his heart. Damn.

She stretched out and scratched between his ears, her eyes closed. Judge moaned, propping his head on the edge of the sofa.

His dog missed his woman as much as he did.

“Jonathan,” Kenya’s soft and sexy purr thrilled along his spine, found his groin, an gripped tight.

At the closet door, he started to get her a blanket, before punching the remote for the music and to light the fireplace. “Cold?”

“No, come sit down,” Kenya offered patting the seat beside her. Before he could relax, he had a few things to take care of.

“I have to make a number of calls. When the food gets here I’ll join you.” He found himself drawn to Kenya sprawled on the sofa. Running a hand over her face, he eased down placing a kiss on her forehead. He stared at this woman and knew his heart had been stolen…

“Make your calls, Jonathan. You don’t have to entertain me, I’m fine just listening to the storm until you get back,” Kenya urged in a tired voice.

Down the hall he moved into his office, on his cell and called the office downtown. Laptop open, he downloaded a few files on new clients while listening to his messages. Called the Finance office in Ireland where his cousin, Jaime, kept things running smooth to see how things went with the farmers. The accountant had been seen in Dublin. Jaime gave the order for him to be handled. Still hadn’t been seen and Jamie had their people searching for him.

Padding out from his office entering the living room he stopped. Jonathan set the food on the console table after the concierge left. Down in the kitchen, he grabbed some plates and grabbed a bottle of wine and one glass. He joined her on the sofa, her back propped along the sofa’s arm, Kenya eyeing him as he pulled her legs long and straight over his lap.

“Open up.” Dangling the fork of tender chicken breast over her mouth, he fed his woman. Sight of her lips closing around the tines of the fork, slipping off, and the pink tip of her tongue dipping along the edge of her lips had him jerking behind his zipper. Imagined that tongue working the length of him tonight.

Kenya rested her head on the suede sofa’s high back, touching her nails along his thigh, then the pads of her fingers. Was she teasing him?

“That’s delicious. Thank you…curry?” she asked licking her lips.

He nodded. “Don’t tease me, Kenya.”

“My sister burned on me tonight, Jonathan. If I start to cry, or need to touch you,  or whatever,” she started, a chill moved down his throat watching her force down her anger. “You’ll just have to deal, for me. Tonight, you announced that I’m your woman. Well—my man—your woman needs you in the worst way.” Kenya’s finger trailed over the shell of his earlobe, played down his neck massaging up into his hair. How in the hell was that so sensitive? His body grew thick and swollen behind her touch.

He stared at this woman, at the minimum she would be under him within the hour writhing, calling his name. He burned to snatch whatever panties she wore, off, rip the zipper from his pants and push up into her hot core. He took a breath, ran a thumb over the dip under her nose, leaned in and kissed his woman, breathing out they shared his breath. She needed him.

Forking another piece of chicken into her mouth, he thumbed away the drop of sauce from the corner, slipping his finger into her mouth. Soft scrape of her teeth over his skin sent a current up his arm dropping straight to his groin. His body jerked behind his zipper. His woman wanted more than food. First, he’d give her what she’d needed more…him.

“Family is important, but not if they tear you down. Has she always been this way toward you?”

Kenya covered her mouth chewing her food, “She and my brother Michael are over ten years older than me.” She wrung her hands in her lap and took a deep breath. Smoothing a finger over her knuckles, he listened to her swallow back something ugly and he wanted to ask, but waited. Kenya blew out the air and her body sank into his lap. Lifting her chin he leaned in brushing his lips along the soft skin of her chin. Her words came out tired, “It's not easy to talk about. Let's just say my family's gone through a lot of trauma since I was born. I came along late. Morgan and Michael were already in school and Momma didn’t work so I got to run around with her when she ran errands. I was the baby. To this day they both question and pick apart everything I do and say.”