by Nia Arthurs
His other hand lands on my hip. Keeps me there before I can run away. Teale looks down at me with eyes half-hooded. “My turn.“
His fingers run down my arm. Brush the inside of my wrist.
The touch leaves sparks of electricity on my flesh.
He tugs me until I’m flush against him. Stares me deeply in the eyes as his hand slides around my waist. To my back. To the bulge of my apron.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers. Tugs at the knot. I feel the cloth binding around my waist giving way, loosening. Falling victim to his big, patient hands.
My breath hitches.
Teale leans closer. “I want you.”
Another yank. The other string flutters to my side. Both have submitted to Teale’s persistence.
The apron completely falls apart.
My defenses collapse, right along with it.
Every sensible thought blows away like a straw house beneath a gentle breeze.
My heart thuds like a crazed drum.
Every second slows till it feels like an hour.
Teale takes the apron off.
Cups my face.
Leans in.
My eyes are closed when he kisses me, but I can still see him as if his face is printed on the back of my eyelids.
Strong forehead pressed against mine.
Nose gently impaling my own.
Dull pink lips owning my big brown ones.
He starts on my bottom lip. Tugging. Sucking. Appreciating.
Warm ripples of pleasure course through my body. The past twines with the present, carrying me away to some place that doesn’t quite exist in reality.
His big hands caress the lower dip of my back.
The sketchpad slips from my fingers. Crumples to the floor. I hear it like a distant thump, like far away thunder.
My heart crackles.
My body aches.
Teale tilts his head. The pressure on my mouth parts my lips open.
The gentleness of his kiss, the slow rhythm, the rolling cadence… is like rain.
A weak moan escapes.
Excruciating.
It’s so good it hurts.
Desire licks at my feet, my hands, my toes.
I meld my body to his, clamoring for more of him. Abandoning every caution in my head. Ignoring every rational thought.
The taste of his lips is harsher than I remember. Mint and Teale. It’s a flavor unique to him.
His hands slip under my shirt.
Higher.
Higher.
I gasp.
He doesn’t relent.
My breathing turns ragged.
A heated shudder.
It feels so good.
So good…
I grip the hem of his shirt. Crumple it up with twitching fingers. Inch it upwards, remembering the way he’d liked it when I took control of undressing him that night. When I pushed past my shyness and explored.
My hand slips under his shirt. Rasps against his toned stomach. Defined abs. Ridges. A sprinkling of hair below the belly button.
His torso is more muscular than I remember.
Or was it always this rugged?
A grunt.
An encouragement.
His hands fall to the band of my shorts.
Blood pumps wildly through my veins.
I’ve gone and lost my mind.
To Teale.
Of all people.
But I can’t stop. Won’t stop.
I don’t want to.
“Hello?”
I freeze.
It feels like a bucket of cold water just got splashed on my face.
Something dings.
The little silver bell we keep on the counter.
Someone just pounded it.
“Hello? Anyone here?”
Teale’s hand slips away from my pants. The hem of my shirt falls back against the band of my shorts. Shorts that had been two seconds away from a fate on the floor along with my panties.
I suck in a deep breath.
Step away from Teale.
My voice is husky. “Coming!”
I carefully ignore Teale and head outside to deal with the customers. They’re regulars. An elderly man and his wife. Cute people. Even cuter dog that they keep tied up outside during their daily morning walks.
They try to chat, but I keep my head down and my answers to a minimum.
My skin is still heated.
My cheeks still warm.
My toes are still curled in my flip-flops.
They can probably tell what was going down in that kitchen. I can’t even talk properly, of course they can.
Is it written all over me?
I can’t take any chances.
Pretty soon, they get the gist and don’t say a word until I hand over their bags and ring up the change.
Once they’re gone, I lean against the front counter.
Deep inhale. Shallow exhale.
I struggle to regain my bearings. Fight for my good sense to return.
My body’s still aching.
I cross my legs. Remind myself that I have standards and there will be no lusting for douche bags like Teale.
Even if he can kiss like a damn expert.
And he is.
An expert. A man-whore. A playboy.
People excel at things they do frequently and I’m sure Teale’s got so many notches on his bedpost that it’s lost all ability to support a frame.
I can’t get carried away.
Can’t…
The door to the kitchen opens.
Teale walks out.
I don’t look at him.
There’s really nothing I can say.
Yeah I hate him.
But I also gave as good as I got.
That was not an unrequited make-out session.
We both know it.
I feel him near me. Feel his body heat.
There’s a part of me that wants to turn around and push him back into the kitchen. Pick up where we left off. Of all the guys I’ve dated, Teale’s the only one to unleash the darker, more primal side of me.
I don’t know if that’s because he’s my first or because I just haven’t met anyone who matches up to his skills.
Thankfully, the parts begging for more of Teale are being held in a chokehold by my better, more rational side.
I slipped up.
I don’t know why.
Or maybe I do and I just don’t want to face it properly.
Either way…
“That can never happen again.”
Teale’s voice rumbles in my ear. “Zania—”
“Don’t.”
“You already told me everything I needed to know back there.”
“Not everything.”
He presses closer.
I can feel him.
So good…
No, Zania.
“I’m getting married,” I blurt.
I hear his sharp inhale.
My fingers scratch the surface of the counter as I add, “Not right now. I don’t have a husband yet, but I plan to.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“I don’t want to fool around with you.”
“You seemed to be enjoying it.”
I turn. Meet his eyes. “Fine. You caught me. I’m still attracted to you even if I really, really wish I wasn’t. But I can’t do this.” I point between us. “I don’t want to entertain you for a few nights until you get bored and find a prettier, shinier toy. I don’t want to wonder what I did wrong for the next two years while you’re gallivanting on the other side of the world without a word.”
He has the decency to look sheepish. “Zania...”
I hold up a hand. “I know that night didn’t mean anything. That kiss meant nothing too. But I want more than passion that means nothing. I want a husband. I want something serious. I want something that’ll last.” I wring my hands together. “I know you can’t give me that. I know you don’t have any interes
t to. So just…” I suck in a deep breath. “Let’s leave it here. Okay?”
He says nothing. Just looks at me like he’s trying to gauge the weight of my words.
I turn away before he can see me waver.
Move my feet.
Leave my heart behind.
Take the rest of me to the kitchen.
13 Teale
The lobby of Ollie’s gym has been Chandra-fied.
I know this because there’s no chance in hell that my brother would lay tiles, hang mirrors, lug a couch for people to wait, install recessed lights and frame shiny posters on his own.
Ollie’s got no taste.
This has Chandra all over it.
I sling my duffel over my shoulder and trot to the receptionist’s desk where Jenine is typing something out. Slinging my elbow over the surface, I slant her a smile few women have been able to resist.
“Hello, beautiful.”
Jenine ignores me.
Obviously, she’s one of the few.
I slide my phone over. “I saw you from across the room and I think you’re the one I’ve been waiting for. Can I have your number?”
“May.” She stops. Slants me an amused look. “‘May I have your number’.”
“Is that a yes?”
She returns her gaze to the computer. “Ollie told me you were back in town.”
“I couldn’t stand being apart from you.”
Clack. Clack.
Her fingers don’t miss a beat. “You’re delusional.”
“That your way of saying you missed me?”
She snorts. “Hardly. What took you so long to stop by the gym?”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Messing with girls?”
“Why?” I lean over. Lower my voice. “You jealous?”
“I’m married, Teale.”
“Married women still have feelings.”
Jenine cuts me a dark look.
I laugh.
Ollie’s right-hand woman is hot. Voluminous blond hair. Clear blue eyes. Rocking bod’. She’s also a mom of two and a triathlon legend who could kick my butt.
A route she seems to be considering now.
I straighten. My grin stretches across my cheeks as I admit, “I was setting up shop.”
“You’re moving?” Plucked eyebrows heighten.
“I’m staying. Right here.”
“Ollie will be happy.”
“I haven’t told him yet.”
“Why?”
“No time.”
She purses her lips. “How can two brothers who love each other so much be that uncommunicative?”
I shrug. We’ve never been that close growing up and it’s the same now that we’re adults.
If someone asked me why, I honestly wouldn’t know what to tell them.
Ollie and I… we’re just different.
He’s the grunt man. Our father’s perfect, body-builder specimen.
Dad almost bawled for joy the day Ollie decided to purchase his own gym.
When I made my first app? Crickets.
Maybe, in a way, I’ve always resented my brother.
He had our father’s favor.
I had our father’s scorn.
No matter how many panties I got into, that sense of never enough didn’t go away.
I shake my head. “Is he in?”
“Yeah, he’s upstairs.”
“Thanks.” I tap the table. Push thoughts of Dad and Ollie and my own scrawny little place in the family dynamic away.
Slip into the Teale that feels comfortable.
Even if it’s a fake one.
I wink at Jenine. Twirl my fingers near my ear. Call me.
She shakes her head as I climb the steps to the upper story.
When I stride in, I’m greeted with the scent of citrus cleaner, protein shakes and sweat. There’s a heavy rock song blasting from the speakers. Weights crash against iron in a cymbal accompaniment. Grunts of exhaustion echo against the walls.
Now this is more like Ollie.
More like Dad.
Muscles. Power. Testosterone.
A world I never quite fit in.
I preferred listening to rock perched in a comfortable chair, my fingers flying over the keyboard and spiraling into a sea of ones and zeroes. I exercise, but not as much as I’d like.
And definitely not as much as Ollie.
Damn. Why am I thinking about this again.
See, this is why I don’t visit Ollie’s gym often.
It reminds me too much of Dad.
But it’s better than losing my mind at home.
I notice my brother across the room spotting for one of his clients.
He glances up. Sees me coming. A welcoming smile splits his tan face.
I drop my duffle to the side and wander over. “Downstairs is nice.”
“Chandra did her thing.” Ollie wipes the sweat on his forehead with the back of his T-shirt. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you think? I’m here to take advantage of the family discount.”
Ollie chuckles. Turns to his client. “Alejandro, you good?”
The guy trembling beneath the heavy bar nods.
Ollie steps away. Faces me. “Come on. I’ll spot for you.”
I accept his offer and head to the weights on the other side of the room.
As I lift, Ollie strikes up conversation. “Chandra said you cancelled the cake order.”
“Yeah,” I hiss through my teeth. Heft the bar up. As far as it can go. Back down. To the chest.
“It seemed important.”
He’s fishing.
I’m sweating.
Not a good combination.
“It didn’t work out.”
“What didn’t?”
I blow out a breath through my teeth. Try not to crush my chest with the weight that’s several pounds heavier than what I’d usually crunch.
Part of me thinks Ollie over-did it out of spite.
“Mind your own business.”
Of course… he doesn’t.
“Zania’s a genius at what she does,” Ollie lectures. “You can’t find anyone else in this area who’ll put their heart into a cake like she will.”
The strain is getting to me.
It’s hard to breathe.
My fingers tighten around the bar.
I push it up. Out. To the ceiling. “We had different ideas so we stopped before it went any further.”
“You’re making a mistake letting her go, man.”
My hair falls into my eyes.
I blink it away.
Drop the bar to my chest.
“What do you expect me to do? She already turned me down.”
“You gotta show her you’re serious or she’ll think you’re just wasting your time.”
“What if I am?”
“Then why the hell did you start in the first place?”
He’s got a point.
Up. To the ceiling. Down.
“She already told me she doesn’t want to see me again.”
“Of course she did. She’s not an idiot.”
Another harsh breath. “What should I do then?”
Ollie laughs. “Easy. Stop being a jerk and treat her like her opinion matters. She knows more about this than you do.”
I pump iron. Think about Zania’s expression when she told me she wanted a husband and a family. Settling down isn’t even a distant thought in my brain. I wouldn’t know how to start.
We don’t make sense.
We never did.
Outside of the explosive chemistry between us, there’s not much we have in common.
Facts are facts.
Strangely, the moment she outlined all the reasons we couldn’t be together, the more I wanted to say screw the facts.
My body ached for her.
But I got the point.
We’re at two different places.
Want two different things.
Still, I can’
t get her out of my mind.
Which is why I’m here at Ollie’s gym trying to run away from my thoughts.
A plan that’s, currently, crashing and burning thanks to my brother and his big mouth.
Ollie taps my elbow. “Keep going, Teale.”
I glare at him.
Get back in motion.
He’s annoying, but I can’t say I’m not eager for some advice.
My world’s been torn apart and left in massive devastation since last week when Zania told me she wanted a husband and not a couple nights of me blowing her mind.
Want proof?
Last night, I stopped by the bar.
Came back home only to crash in the couch. Alone.
There were plenty of chicks there. Plenty. I didn’t have to do anything but sip a drink and a girl from the large, rowdy bachelorette party pranced by to inform me that she and another friend were interested.
I turned down a threesome.
See what I mean?
Thinking about another woman has become impossible. It’s like Zania burrowed into my brain as a tiny caterpillar, built herself a cocoon and then emerged into a giant butterfly.
She’s flapping around. Rattling my walls. Disrupting my perfectly ordered chaos with her smile and her voice and her touch…
“It’s not that easy,” I say, my voice thin.
Ollie shakes his head. “If the cake is as important as you made it seem, you’ll get off your butt and convince her that you can work together to make something epic.”
“Anything I say, she won’t believe.”
“Like I said. She’s not an idiot. But you have to try.”
“You’re right.” I set the bar back in the cradle. Sit up. Ollie throws me a towel. I wipe my face with it and nod. “I’ll talk to Zania.”
“Zania?” a new voice booms. Griffin strides toward us. He throws his duffel down near the bar next to mine and takes a seat on the padded chair. Green eyes simmer with mischief. “If you need to talk to Zania, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“She’s not at the shop.”
Ollie chuckles. “How do you know?”
“I just dropped Cobie off. She’s been craving brownies lately and she needed to see Chandra anyway. You know how those two are when they get together. And with the baby on the way, Cobie’s been so emotional—”
“Yeah, yeah. What about Zania?”
Griffin purses his lips. “I was getting there.”
“Hurry up.”
An eyebrow arches. “I talked to Chandra a bit. She said that Zania had left early to get ready for a date.”
