“You exaggerate.”
“Maybe,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her so that her back was flush against the hard plains of his chest. Amara’s breath caught at the contact, and by the memories from that morning that, for the thousandth time today, stole her attention.
“I did miss you, though. I just want you to finish up here,” he whispered against her ear, kissing the back of it.
She gulped for air as her breath quickened, her body igniting by his touch.
“So that I can take you home and get you naked again.” He licked the shell of her ear slowly.
She tried to shimmy away from him, but he held her tighter.
“Or I can bend you over right here and lift up that dress your wearing. Tell me, are you wet, Mara?” he asked, in a low, seductive voice. “Are my words turning you on? I know you love it when I talk dirty.”
“Colin,” she said breathlessly, shaking her shoulders to move away.
He pinned her stomach to the counter and unwrapped his arms, placing his hands on either side of her as he ground his hips against her bottom.
“Colin,” she warned, looking around to make sure nobody could see them. “People can see us…outside…if anybody walks over here…” her mind played out all the different scenarios—none of them ending well. He ignored her, dropping his hand to trail it upward along her inner thigh, gently pulling her legs open. He traced circles on her soft skin as her breath quickened in anticipation. Amara pushed her bottom back against his hips and stifled a moan, as Colin began to massage her through her thin panties.
“Hmmm,” he said, his breath tickling her ear. “Silk…you wore these for me?”
“Who else would I wear them for?” She inhaled sharply as two of his fingers pushed inside her.
“Have you been wet all day? Thinking about me?” he murmured. “Have you been thinking about me pounding into you from this position again?”
Amara couldn’t answer; she could only circle her hips in response.
“Answer me, Amara,” Colin said as he withdrew from her.
She gasped. “Yes, dammit. Yes,” she answered, pushing his hand back under her dress.
He chuckled from behind her, and damn if his laugh permeating through her didn’t turn her on more. “Uh-uh,” Colin tsked, shaking his head slowly. “You need to finish your work.”
He stepped away from her so suddenly, she had to grab on to the counter in order to stay upright.
“What?” She pivoted her body toward him. “Seriously?” she seethed, and then groaned loudly when she saw the amusement painted on his face. “I hate you,” she said as she began to walk away from him with the dirty rag in her hand.
Colin’s hand shot out and latched onto her arm, stopping her forward momentum. She didn’t want to turn around, she wanted to continue walking to the back of the diner so that she could clock out and go, but she turned around, nevertheless.
“You don’t hate me, baby,” he said, giving her a lopsided smile. His eyes were soft as he looked at her, and she knew she couldn’t stay mad.
She exhaled. “I kind of hate you.” She looked at the floor between them.
Colin laughed softly and lifted her chin, stepping in and kissing her slowly and thoroughly, until she was weak in the knees.
“You so don’t hate me,” he said, his voice husky and full of desire. “Now hurry up so I can finish what I started.”
At twenty-four, Colin was two years older than Amara. Already settled in his job and working on his master’s degree in finance, he worked for his father at Wolfe Investments Group, a huge company that represented equally large clients. If you had money, you were investing with Wolfe. Amara’s own parents consulted with Wolfe and used their services.
Colin and Amara’s families had been neighbors for as long as she could remember, and they’d gone to the same school and even hung out with the same crowd. Attracted to each other for years, they flirted on and off before they’d decided to act on it.
She smiled as she followed Colin toward the back exit, switching off lights as she passed them. Everybody was gone by the time she finished wiping down all of the counters and setting the tables with tomorrow’s special menus. Amara paused when she reached the back room, where Colin stood among the rows of extra plates and silverware. She switched off the lights, figuring he would follow her, but he pulled her into his chest instead.
“What are you—?” she started to ask, but was cut off by his kiss. The way his mouth claimed hers always made her stomach drop. He was always so passionate, so enthralled with her, that it almost made her feel uncomfortable. Sometimes it was too much too soon. They were too young to feel that intensely about one another. Or maybe it was just hormones. Either way, he always swept her up in the force that was his adoration for her.
“I was dying for you to finish,” he said. It was a pant against her lips.
She laughed and shook her head. It really hadn’t been that long since they’d seen each other. He wasn’t normally that crazed over being with her, but Amara had to admit she was flattered. Colin placed his warm lips on her neck and drew his kisses downward as he scooped her up behind her knees and deposited her on the edge of the sink. It was a sink that was rarely used, and Amara wondered absently if it was sturdy enough to hold her.
“I thought you wanted to go home?” she asked in a whispered pant.
“I did, but I wanted you more.” Lick. “And more.” Suck. “And the longer I waited for you—watching you move your hips the way you do—and those legs…you know what your legs do to me.” The hands that were massaging her calves were working their way up the insides of her legs.. Amara was proud of her legs. They were the payoff of years of cheerleading and dance she’d been in. The short denim dress she wore showed off every curve of her defined legs, and gave her just enough room to open them a little wider for Colin’s eager hands.
“Show me,” she said, throwing her head back.
“Show you what?” he teased.
“Show me what my hips do to you—what my legs do to… oh God.” It was the last coherent thought she had before he hooked his long fingers inside of her. His fingers were an oxymoron, callused and soft, depending on what side he let you feel.
“Feels good, right?”
She nodded rapidly.
“Tell me how good it feels, Mara,” he rasped, his mouth against her ear.
“It’s good… it feels good…oh God, just don’t stop.”
“I’m not.” He said, as he withdrew his hand. Before she could even think to complain, Colin pulled his boxers down and pushed his length into her with such force that Amara’s head hit the wall behind them with a thump.
“I could never stop,” he said. “Not when you feel this good.”
She moaned her agreement, wondering idly if it would always be that good. They’d been doing this: meeting in places, going home with each other, messing around in public for almost a year and still, every time they got together, it felt like they were weaving magic. They couldn’t get enough of one another.
They were frenzied, like mating rabbits. Any place, any time, they were always frantic to touch the other. Colin pushed inside of her slower, grasping for control, and she knew he was close, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he snaked an arm around her and another in between them. He hated finishing before her. He always made it a point to make her orgasm before his bellowed through him. As he pressed and circled his hips against her, tiny, uncontrollable spasms worked their way through her. Amara bit down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out loudly and opened her eyes to find Colin looking right at her, right into her soul.
She wanted to look away as he impaled her one last time, but couldn’t. His eyes were raw, honest, and way too wise for his age. She always thought she could see the truth in her own reflection when she looked at him. It was hard to keep feelings at bay when he looked at her that way, like they belonged to one another. She had to remind herself they didn’t. It wasn’t li
ke that between them.
As if on cue, the hallway light flickered off just as Colin slid out of her and helped Amara to her feet. Everything was dark as they collected their scattered clothes. Using their cell phone lights to re-dress, they laughed as they bumped one another.
“Have you seen my other shoe?” she asked as she hopped on one foot and slipped on her right shoe.
“Nope. Have you seen the condom wrapper?”
She gasped. “That’s not good. We need to find that.”
They laughed as they stumbled around, cleaning up all evidence of their backroom romance. All items accounted for, Amara locked up the restaurant and Colin he ushered her into the back seat of his SUV. His driver, Sean, was waiting to take them back to Colin’s place. Amara said hello and thanked him for waiting before she scooted across the seat. Colin sidled up next to her and tucked Amara into his chest as he ran his fingers down her arm.
“Jasmine,” he murmured, his face in her hair. “You always smell like Jasmine.”
“Lilies,” she murmured as her eyes closed. She was so exhausted.
“What?”
“I smell like lilies, not Jasmine.”
“Yes, lilies. Lilies, Jasmine. Same thing,” he said with a chuckle.
She felt him shift beside her and opened her eyes, noticing they were already in front of Colin’s building.
“We got here so fast.”
“You slept the entire way.”
“I needed that,” Amara said, smiling as she leaned up to kiss the stubble on his chin.
“You know how old I turn this year?”
“Twenty-five.”
Her lips twisted into a smile. She knew where he was going with this. He always found a way to bring up the magic age. To Amara, turning twenty-five would be just another birthday. For Colin, it meant taking on more responsibility in his dad’s company—something he was actually excited about.
As Amara stepped out of the car, her smile faltered and a shiver ran through her. The feeling of being watched prompted her to turn and scan her surroundings as she held on to Colin’s hand a little harder.
“You okay?” he asked, searching her face. He placed one hand on the small of her back as he held her other one.
“Yeah…” she said slowly, searching the shadows.
The neighborhood his apartment building was in was definitely safe, but in that moment she felt anything but.
“You’re overworking yourself. I don’t understand why you won’t—” Colin’s argument fell on deaf ears as Amara’s distraction and increasing anxiety tuned him out..
Her eyes wandered to the building beside them, where she saw a group of people in dress clothes getting into a limousine. That’s when she saw him. Philip.
“Okay, Amir, here is what we’ll do, I will pay all of your debt, you can keep your damn house and your luxurious cars, and in turn, you give me your daughter,” Philip said.
Amara’s mouth dropped open, but she covered it quickly to make sure no sound escaped that would give away her eavesdropping.
“My daughter?” her father asked, outraged. “We’re not exchanging cattle!”
“How old is Amara now? Seventeen?” Philip asked, ignoring her father.
“Yes.”
There was a pause.
“Too young... in American standards,” Philip said.
He spoke with a thick French accent that Amara had always thought was funny, until that day. This time it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
“Please, just give me time. I’ll pay you back every cent. With interest.”
“Every cent,” Philip repeated with a rueful laugh. “Old friend, you’ve just told me that you gambled your savings account away, there is a lien on your property and cars that the bank is ready to repossess. To make matters worse, your wife is now sick, and I’m sure she knows nothing of this. Did I get everything?”
Amara’s heart was nestled in her throat so tightly that she couldn’t even gasp. She couldn’t believe her father would put their family in such a situation—especially knowing her mother’s health was so poor. Amara wondered what would happen if they lost everything they owned. Where would they go? This was the house she grew up in. Amara never wanted to move out of Westchester, she’d dreamed of taking her kids to visit their grandparents in that very house someday. And their cars? They could just go and take their cars? What would her mother say? She’d be heart broken. Her mother was always keeping up appearances for her sake, always trying to show her own father that she was fine without his help. She would be devastated if they lost everything.
“Please,” her father pleaded; he sounded like he was crying, which only made Amara worry more. “I only need some money up front. Anna will need the money. I will sell my house—I will sell my cars to pay you back—but I cannot give you what you want. My daughter is not for sale.”
Her heart lurched to her throat so quickly, she thought she was going to faint. She saw Philip around all the time, and he was always watching her—always waiting. This night, was dressed in a tuxedo, standing beside a woman in a red dress. They were looking at Amara, scrutinizing her as they exchanged words. Philip raised the champagne flute he held in his hand in a salute, and Amara could feel her knees slowly giving out beneath her.
“Mar, you’re scaring me, are you having dizzy spells again?” He stopped walking and faced her, holding both of her arms. Amara was still looking in Philip’s direction, and Colin’s eyes followed.
“You all right?” he asked again.
She could feel Colin’s eyes on her as she nodded, but she couldn’t break Philip’s icy blue gaze. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” she whispered. “Just fine.”
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