An All Night Man

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An All Night Man Page 20

by Brenda Jackson


  "Shut up, Suzette.” Amani playfully whacked her friend on the shoulder.

  "Ouch.” Suzette rubbed her arm as if she'd been injured. “I don't know why you're beating on me. You know I'm right. Now, what are you gonna wear?”

  Amani shook her head. She didn't need Suzette outfitting her in the latest naughty lingerie from Frederick's of Hollywood. “Time to get back to work.”

  "Oh no you don't. You're not going to dismiss me.”

  Amani made her way around the counter, wiggling her fingers at Suzette as she did.

  "Amani! I can help you with this. You know I can.”

  Ignoring Suzette, Amani giggled and made her way toward a lost-looking customer.

  9

  .

  Amani was applying a shape of deep burgundy to her lips when she heard the knock on the bathroom door. “He's here,” Suzette said in a sing-song voice.

  Amani's heart spasmed. She glanced at her watch. It was ten minutes to eight.

  Oh, boy. Aaron was early. Not by much, but early nonetheless.

  Anxious?

  Amani's gaze went back to her reflection. She had gone through the ritual of dolling herself up, even though she hadn't expected Aaron to show. The weather had steadily gotten worse. Not enough to shut the city down, but enough that most people wouldn't want to venture outside unless they had to. Clearly, he wanted to see her.

  A long breath oozed out of her as she checked out her appearance, Her short, black hair was slicked back off her face and held in place with gel. Her eyes were enhanced with black liner and mascara, giving her a dramatic look. And she was more than pleased with this burgundy lipstick that she had picked up at The Eaton Centre just last weekend. Her lips looked very kissable, indeed.

  A good thing, in case Aaron wanted to kiss her again.

  "Just go out there and meet the guy,” she told herself sternly.

  With that, she dropped her makeup items back into her large tote bag and headed into the cafe.

  His back was turned to her, but even beneath the heavy winter coat, it was easy to see the breadth of his impressive shoulders. Shoulders she had fantasized about more times than she could count.

  "All right, Suzette. I'll see you tomorrow.”

  Suzette came around the counter to hug her. “Night. And hey, do everything I'd do and more.”

  Amani playfully smacked Suzette's arm as she stepped away from her. And then Aaron turned, taking her breath away with his easy smile.

  Swallowing a spate of nervousness, Amani walked toward him. “You really didn't have to come,” she told him, “given the weather.”

  "You didn't call. I told you to call if you couldn't make it.”

  "I know, but. .

  "A few snow flurries couldn't keep me from missing this date.”

  His words were like an aphrodisiac, and she wondered again what it was about Aaron Hayes that made her so easily melt. He could read a grocery list to her and she would find it sexy.

  "Well, I appreciate you showing up. Because I've worked up an appetite.”

  "You like Jamaican food?”

  "Oh, yeah. I even know how to make Jerk Chicken.”

  "So you don't mind if we head to The Real Jerk Pit?”

  "Nor at all. Are you driving, or do you want me to call for a taxi?

  "My car's outside.”

  Aaron motioned for Amani to step forward. She did, and he followed her to the door, then opened it for her. A bone-chilling wind immediately swirled around her, and she burrowed into her leather jacket.

  "Here. Take my scarf.”

  Before she could protest, Aaron was wrapping it around her neck. The alluring scent of his musky cologne filled her senses. “You're too kind.”

  His arm snaked around her waist and he snuggled her close. It wasn't like the wind was going to blow her away, but she didn't point that out. Aaron was, as she'd always known, a gentleman.

  He led her to his car across the street from the cafe. As she knew he would, he opened the passenger door for her and she got in.

  "What do you want to hear?” Aaron asked, turning on the radio. “Flow 93.5, jazz?”

  Jazz is nice.

  Aaron hit the CD button, and the smooth sounds of jazz filled the airwaves. Amani settled into her seat. They were both quiet on the drive southeast to The Real Jerk Pit. Amani wondered what Aaron was thinking, and she was sure he was wondering the same about her.

  She was wondering how they'd gotten to this point. The point of being involved in a relationship. Because there was 110 doubt about it. They were involved. And the relationship didn't have a casual feel to Amani.

  She doubted Aaron got involved casually.

  She felt a niggling of something in her stomach, an unsettling type of feeling at the prospect of where this relationship might lead. But she pushed the thought out of her mind, forcing herself to concentrate on the here and now.

  Aaron found a parking spot on Broadview and pulled into it. They were a stone's throw from the restaurant's front door. Meeting her at her side of the car, Aaron placed his arm around Amani and walked her to the restaurant door. Amani savored the feel of his strong arms around her.

  Once inside The Real Jerk Pit, Amani blew out a sigh of relief. It was wonderfully warm and filled with delicious spicy scents. A complete contrast to the dismal atmosphere outside.

  Minutes later, they were seated when Aaron reached into his jacket pocket. “I want to give you something.”

  Amani's breath caught in her throat when she saw Aaron reach into his jacket pocket. There's no way. . .

  Her eyes watched his hand's every movement. She started breathing again when she saw him withdraw a small card envelope and place it on the table.

  "What is this?”

  Open it.

  "Is it a card?” she asked.

  "Open it and see.”

  Amani opened the flap and pulled out folded sheets of paper. Lined paper, the kind students used to write on. But instead of being a stark white, it was yellowish.

  Amani's heart pounded hard. If this was what she thought it was ...

  "Go on,” Aaron urged.

  Drawing in a shaky breath, Amani unfolded the papers. Instantly recognizing her penmanship, a wave of embarrassment washed over her. She wished the ground would swallow her whole. The best she could manage was a hand over her eyes. “Oh, gosh. Not this.”

  A sizzle of warmth spread along her skin when she felt Aarons strong hand cover hers. He peeled her fingers from her face. “Look at me.”

  "I can't believe . .She opened her eyes and met Aaron's gaze. Her face flamed. “I don't understand. Why would you keep this?”

  "You don't have any idea?”

  "Other than to embarrass me?”

  Aaron's eyes narrowed as he looked at her quizzically. “I hope you don't think 1 kept it all these years because I was waiting for [he perfect opportunity to embarrass you.”

  No, that didn't make sense. So . , . why had he kept it?

  "I know you might find this hard to believe, but I always liked your story.”

  Cringing, Amani covered her face. “Oh, come on.”

  "I did. I just couldn't tell you that at the time.”

  Amani slowly lowered her hand. Reality settled over her. Aaron had kept her story. Was it customary for him to do so, and if it was, was it likely that he'd be able to locate her story nine years later? “Aaron.” She spoke his name tentatively. “What are you saying?”

  The waitress appeared at that moment, interrupting them. Amani was so filled with tension she thought she could explode. She ordered a rum punch, and Aaron did the same.

  As soon as the waitress was out of earshot, Amani spoke again. “Aaron . . .”

  "I'm not sure why,” he said softly. “Maybe because . . . because it touched me in some way.”

  This was news to Amani. “My story touched you?”

  "1 know you put your heart on the line when you wrote it. Put it on the line for me. That's why I kept it
.” He paused, rolled his eyes. “I don't even want to tell you what my wife said when she found it.”

  Amani threw a hand over her mouth. “No.”

  "Oh yeah. She wasn't impressed.”

  Amani chuckled softly. “Aaron.” But her laughter suddenly faded as she caught a glint in his eyes. She stared hard at him, trying to read the emotion in his soul.

  "I always thought you were a beautiful woman. And who knows? Maybe if we'd met under different circumstances, we might have explored a relationship.”

  “My God. 1 never knew you—“

  Amani abruptly stopped when the waitress appeared, planting the drinks on the table before them. “Have you had a chance to look at the menu?” the young woman asked.

  "No,” Aaron replied. “Give us a few more minutes, will you?”

  "No problem.”

  Amani watched the woman walk away before meeting Aaron's gaze again. Her heart was singing Hallelujah, yet her brain told her not to get excited. It was entirely possible that she was completely misconstruing what Aaron was saying.

  "I don't know about you,” he said, “but I'm suddenly hungry for a very different kind of food.”

  "I was thinking the same thing.”

  Aaron's smile was electrifying. “Let's finish our drinks, maybe have some dessert.” He raised an eyebrow, “Or take dessert back to my place.”

  "I say we take it back to your place.”

  Amani had no doubt that she and Aaron would put it to good use.

  Amani followed Aaron into his waterfront condo, then watched as he locked the door behind them. She carried the bag holding their dessert—a warm chocolate brownie, smothered with whipped cream and hot fudge. Thankfully, the drive from the restaurant to Aaron's place was only ten minutes even with all the snow on the road, and the whipped cream shouldn't have melted.

  When Aaron and Amani were out of their boots, Aaron turned to her and took her hand. But instead of leading her to the bedroom, he walked her into the living room. Amani looked up at him in surprise.

  He kissed her forehead. “Wait here.”

  Amani placed the dessert on his leather sofa, then stripped out of her coat. She was placing her jacket on the sofa's arm when Aaron returned holding a dark-colored comforter.

  "The fudge could get messy,” he explained.

  "Ah. Of course.”

  Amani lifted the brown paper bag and pulled out the dessert. The plastic container was still warm. She opened it and dipped her finger into the chocolate. As Aaron watched her, she slowly put her finger in her mouth and sucked the chocolate off.

  A flame of desire flickered in his eyes, stoking her own heat for him. Walking toward him where he stood on the comforter, she smothered her finger with more chocolate. As she reached him, he opened his mouth for her. But instead of putting her finger in his mouth, she ran it across his bottom lip.

  Aaron flicked his tongue out, but Amani shook her head. Then she lifted herself on her toes, reaching her face to his. Ever so slowly, she licked the chocolate off his mouth.

  Aaron wrapped an arm around her, but Amani stepped out of his embrace. “Take off your shirt,” she told him.

  His eyes never leaving hers, Aaron unbuttoned his white shirt. Amani sampled more chocolate. Only when he tossed his shirt onto the nearby sofa did Amani step toward him again.

  She put a dollop of whipped cream on his chest, then slowly lapped it up with her tongue. Next was chocolate on his nipple. Aaron groaned when she licked that off.

  He took the dessert from her hand and broke off a piece of the brownie with his fingers. “Open,” he told Amani. She did, and he let her lick his fingers clean before putting most of the chunk of dessert into her mouth. The morsel that protruded from her lips he took into his own teeth. Their mouths touching, they chewed and swallowed.

  And then Aaron could stand no more. His lips played over Amani's, urging them to open. They did, and he plunged his tongue into her mouth in a burning kiss. He sucked on her tongue; she sucked on his. He simply couldn't get enough of her.

  Everything about her turned him on in the most primal way. His free hand roamed her body, cupping her firm butt. He wanted to meld their bodies together.

  "1 want you naked,” he whispered as he trailed his tongue to her ear. He flicked it over the lobe, and Amani moaned and gripped his shoulders.

  Reluctantly he stepped away from her. He put down the dessert in order to finish undressing. Now unrestrained, his erection felt some relief. But true relief would come when he lost himself in her softness.

  Aaron's penis throbbed with the thought. He kicked his slacks across the carpeted floor. Then he stepped toward Amani, reaching for her underwear before she could. He slowly pulled the wisp of lacy fabric down her legs.

  While trailing his fingers up her thighs, he planted a delicate kiss on her mound, inhaling her scent as he did.

  He couldn't take any more of this. Gripping her hands, he urged her down. Before she was even on her knees in front of him, he captured her mouth with his. And as their lips mated, he reached for the dessert.

  His hand covered with chocolate and whipped cream, he slipped it between their bodies, smothering the sticky sweetness over her breasts. Amani moaned into his mouth.

  Her moan was like a surge of power. Lowering his head, he ran his tongue across her firm, beautiful breasts, licking the chocolate and whipped cream off. Her skin was sweet and hot and her moaning was driving him nuts. He slipped his hand between her legs, needing to feel more of her.

  Her passionate whimpers sounded like little cries. Aaron met her gaze, concerned. “You're all right?”

  She bit down on her bottom lip before replying. “No.” “No?”

  Amani's hand curled around his penis. “I need you inside me.”

  Stroking his shaft, Amani maneuvered herself backward on the comforter. Then she eased her legs apart and lifted her hips. She rubbed his penis across her vagina.

  Aaron's erection pulsated in her hand. He had wanted to give her an orgasm with his touch before sinking deep inside her, but he couldn't wait a moment longer. Gently easing himself down on her, he let Amani guide his erection into her warm, wet place.

  A groan rumbled deep in his chest. “Oh, sweetheart.” He went as deep as he could, until Amani cried out and arched her back. His mouth found her neck, her jaw line, her earlobe. “I could stay like this all night.”

  "You feel so good inside me.”

  Aaron gyrated against her, penetrating her deeper. “What about that?”

  Amani closed her eyes and whimpered. “Oh, yes.” She dug her nails into his back when he plunged deep inside her again. “Oooh, Aaron. Yes. Give it to me hard.”

  Aaron did. He teased and stroked and buried himself deep inside her over and over, bringing her close to the edge of climax several times, then deliberately slowing the pace. He wanted her body so ripe with passion that one touch would make her explode.

  "Aaron, please,” Amani begged. “I can't take it.”

  He was close. So close. He thrust deep inside her, pushing deep into her soft place. Amani's breathing grew shallower as her walls tightened around him. It was the tightening sensation that did him in, and he felt the beginning of his own release.

  Amani clung to him, calling his name on a rapturous moan. And as he clung to her, as his seed spilled inside her, Aaron's heart filled with warmth.

  With love.

  10

  .

  Amani awoke in the middle of the night. Tentacles of panic gripped her when she realized that she wasn't at home, in her own bed.

  It took her another moment to remember exactly where she was.

  Aaron's bed.

  His arm was draped across her waist as she lay spoon fashion with him. She should have felt secure, but the panic didn't subside.

  In the next seconds, the air in the room seemed to grow thick, making it harder for her to breathe. She had to get up. Had to get air.

  She reached for Aaron's arm—then
felt a rush of sadness. This was Aaron, the man she had dreamed about since she'd first met him ten years ago. This was the man who had treated her with such kindness and respect... so why did she feel like running?

  The answer didn't come to her, and fighting tears, she lifted his hand off her. He didn't move as she eased her body to the bed's edge.

  Looking back at his sleeping form, her heart nearly split in two. They'd spent several hours making sweet passionate love. With Aaron she'd felt cherished, respected. She hadn't felt smothered. Only loved. Yet she still felt like slipping her clothes on and taking the walk of shame out of his apartment.

  Amani slowly stood. The mattress didn't make a sound. Maybe if she just walked around, allowed herself to examine her feelings. She tiptoed to the bedroom door.

  It squeaked as she opened it, and before she could walk out of the room, Aaron called her name.

  She halted in the doorway. “Hmm?”

  "Where are you going?”

  "I was . . . thirsty. I'm heading to the kitchen for some water.”

  "Oh.” Aaron's voice was thick with sleep. “Come right back, okay?”

  "Uh huh.”

  But Amani didn't. She put on her clothes and quietly snuck out of Aaron's apartment.

  "What the hell are you doing here?” Suzette asked the next morning when Amani plodded into the cafe shortly after ten. When Amani didn't answer, simply walked like a zombie past her to the coat rack, Suzette loudly groaned. “Oh God. Why do you look . . . look like you're coming from a funeral.”

  Facing Suzette, Amani unwrapped her scarf. “Maybe I did.”

  "You've got bags under your eyes so you couldn't have gotten much sleep. Which leads me to believe your date with Aaron went as well as expected. You went back to his place, didn't you?”

  "Yeah,” Amani said glumly.

  "Oh, shit. Don't tell me you left in the middle of the night.”

  Amani slung her scarf on the rack, then put her coat on top of it.

  "Oh my God. Why?”

  "I don't know why.”

  "You've decided you don't like him?”

 

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