by Nia Arthurs
Heat flares in my chest.
Down.
Below my belt.
I catch her. Hold her.
She smells like vanilla. Sweet. Clean. Lovely.
Her waist is small, a sharp contrast to her full-figured hips.
I look down at her face. See the familiar simmer of hate and lust in her eyes.
But there’s something new.
A glint.
Sorrow?
Before I can figure it out, she crushes her lips to mine.
Small hands gather at the back of my neck. Pulls me in.
It’s an angry kiss.
I know that, but it sends my desire through the roof.
I kiss her passionately.
Run my hands along the dip of her back.
Moan when she tugs at my hair.
I’m spiraling.
This is more than just a kiss.
It’s more.
Damn. I wish I understood what’s happening to me.
It’s like my old skin is peeling off, revealing a Teale I don’t know. Don’t understand.
A Teale that wants to be better.
That wants to meet the great expectations simmering just beneath the hate and lust in Zania’s gorgeous brown eyes.
Zania pulls back before I’ve gathered my breath.
Before I can figure out where she’s going with this.
She reaches behind. Stares me right in the eyes as she fumbles with something.
Confusion melts away when I hear the metallic whir of a zipper being pulled down. Hear it jolt against the base. The shoulders of her dress peels away like wet petals, a flower in full bloom.
Zania grabs one sleeve. Yanks it off.
Tears glisten in her eyes.
She yanks off the other.
I shuffle back, half-frightened. “What are you doing?”
“This is what you want, right?” The dress pools at her feet. She steps out of it. Stands there in a black panty and bra set. Presents herself to me, her nakedness, her body.
“Zania…”
I want her.
I do.
I’d lick every inch of that skin until her toes curled and she screamed my name.
I’d pin her against the wall. Torture that pretty mouth and that flawless skin for turning me into this crazy version of myself.
I’d do it now.
I’d do it rough and hard.
I’d show her who the boss is.
But this doesn’t feel like a competition I want to win.
A tear spills down her cheek, but her voice is strong and firm when she says, “Sex is what you’re after anyway, right? That’s the point of this game.” She shimmies out of her panties. I watch the slinky material kiss her thighs until it scrapes the floor.
My heart hammers in my chest.
Damn it.
Crap.
I go through every four-letter word in my head.
“You win, Teale. So tell me what you want. Tell me what I need to do tonight to end this.” She juts her chin down the hallway. “Should we go to the bedroom?” A finger points to the table. “Or on the counter? How about the floor? What?” She shakes her head. Screams. “What do I have to do, Teale?”
It feels like she just blew a hole through my heart.
Hearing her talk like that…
I shake my head and turn away because, even if my head knows this isn’t the way I want it, my body’s having a hard time catching up.
“Put your clothes back on,” I order. Stare at the clock on the wall.
Breathe in.
Out.
Do it all over again until the keening wail in my head and the throbbing in my pants get a little easier to bear.
My lower half isn’t agreeing with this sudden dive into self-control.
Take her.
She’s crying.
Damn. What kind of man would I be if I screwed her now?
But my body doesn’t want to hear that.
Mine.
It’s warring with my head. My heart.
I’m bleeding from the inside.
What the hell am I doing?
Zania sniffs. “You want to undress me yourself?”
“Put the damn clothes on, Zania!” I yell.
“No.”
I whirl around.
My temper’s ignited. I’ve had girls strip for me before. Mostly because they’re thinking of using sex to trap me in a relationship I don’t want.
But Zania’s doing the opposite.
This is her way of rejecting me. This is her way of cutting me off.
I hate it.
Even if I want her so badly I’m about to bust a vein…
I can’t stand it.
Gritting my teeth, I glare at her. “What do you take me for?”
She holds her chin up. Folds her arms over her chest. The move inadvertently pushes up her bra. Her cleavage spills out of the black material.
I force my eyes to stay on her face.
Zania lets out a breath. She’s not crying anymore. She’s back to being furious. “This… whatever this is… I’m tired of it.” Her eyes bounce to the ceiling. “Just do what you need to, okay? We’ll say you won. We’ll both move on.”
Move on?
The hell?
The more she talks, the more pissed off I get.
“And if I refuse?”
“Why would you want to? What’s so special about me that a hundred other girls wouldn’t give you in a heartbeat?”
The question rolls around and around in my head.
What is it about Zania that makes this situation feel so cheap and insulting?
What is it about hearing her going on dates that drives me crazy?
She’s standing in front of me, naked and willing. Pissed off. Filled with desire.
It’ll be the craziest night of both our lives.
Everything pent up between us will collide in the headiest climax.
Even thinking about it…
My pants tighten.
I growl. Surge toward her.
She sucks in a breath. Holds it. Closes her eyes. Waits for me to touch her. To explore her. To ravish her. To bang her.
It would feel so good.
We both know it.
But I don’t do what she wants. What my body wants.
I stop just above her pretty little face, her pert breasts. Hands swaying above her naked thighs. I wait until she opens her eyes. Make sure she sees every promise in my own when I say, “You’re right. This is my game. And this,” I gesture lower, “is cheating.”
Flames burst to life in her eyes. Hot enough to sear me. “You jerk.”
“Yes, I am.”
Her breath rattles against her teeth.
Eyes narrow.
“I think you might have misunderstood something.” I let my finger trail her collarbone. Sweep lower. Just a little.
Her breathing gets ragged.
From rage? Arousal?
Both?
She’s still keening for my touch.
I’m still desperate for hers.
To be safe, I pull my hands away. “I won’t help you get over me. Under me? Yeah. We can work on that. All night long if you want. But not tonight.” I grab her shoulders. Lean over. Press a long, lingering, kiss on her forehead. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”
Zania gasps.
The tiny, intimate sound almost sends me over the edge.
I reel my baser instincts back from the explosion that threatens to unravel my resolve and stride to the door, already planning out the rest of my night.
An intense workout session.
A couple dunks in an ice-filled bathtub.
Maybe a few drinks.
And I should be fine.
16 Zania
“Fine. Really? That’s all you’re gonna give us?” Cobie tilts her head. Her beautiful mass of curls bounces with the movement. “Zania, do you have any idea what I had to go through to get out of the house this morning?”
“I’m guessing you’re going to tell me.”
She tosses her curls over her shoulder. “Just know it wasn’t easy.”
“Griffin’s still being overprotective?” Chandra smirks.
“The man won’t let me breathe without asking if I’m comfortable, if I’m in pain, if the baby’s coming… I fully expect him to bring home a hamster bubble tonight and put me in it.”
Chandra laughs. “It’s his first kid. Give the guy a break.”
“Point is,” Cobie says with a dramatic sigh, “I’d like to hear the story before I go into labor or my husband changes his mind and turns back to whisk me home.”
“There’s no story,” I tell her.
“It was your first date with a new guy in almost two years. You should be writing a book.” Chandra eyes me suspiciously. Manicured fingers thrust her long, black hair over her shoulder. “Was he that awful?”
“No, he was great.”
“Where did he take you?”
“Greggori’s.”
“Nice restaurant. Plush.” Chandra rubs her chin. “He’s got money.”
Cobie smacks her. “That’s not important.”
“Of course not,” Chandra smiles sweetly. Behind her hand, she whispers, “Yes it is.”
“He’s a widower,” I admit.
Both of their eyebrows shoot to the ceiling.
“He was married before?” Chandra croaks.
Cobie leans forward. “Were you okay with that?”
“We all have stories.”
“Yeah, but a wife…”
“Did he have kids?” Cobie asks. A slender hand rests on her bulging stomach.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Was he black?” Chandra asks, lips pursed.
I blink at her. “Why?”
“Just curious.”
Cobie frowns. “What does it matter if he’s black or purple? A man’s race has nothing to do with his character. You should know that.”
“Look, I’m all for dating whoever you want, but you and I are both with white men. I’m just checking that Zania’s breaking the trend. People will start to think we hate our own kind.”
Cobie gasps. “Chandra Renae Howard!”
Chandra shrugs, indifferent.
“Guys,” I glance up from the dough, “do we have to do this now?”
Cobie pats my back. “Just one more question.”
I sigh. Look at her. “What?”
“Is he The One?”
“No.”
Cobie frowns.
“Ah well.” Chandra nods. “Plenty of fish in the Marriage Material Sea.”
I cut her a dark look. “I know you’re secretly relieved.”
“Hell yeah I am. And I hope you keep striking out. Three months is not enough time to get to know someone.”
I scowl at her.
“It’s been almost three years and I still learn new things about Griffin,” Cobie agrees.
“Same with me and Ollie.” Chandra pauses. “By the way, he mentioned something weird last night.”
“Weird?”
“About Teale.”
I knead the dough in front of me with more force than necessary. “Whatever it is, I don’t want to hear it.”
I’m still mortified when I think about the way he rejected me last night.
This is my game.
I fist my hand. Punch the dough harder.
I hate him.
I abhor him.
I wish he’d fall into the sea and get dragged to the bottom for eternity.
“Ollie says Teale acted crazy when he heard Zania was going on a date.”
I spin. “Crazy how?”
“He ran out of the gym like the place was on fire.”
Cobie narrows her eyes. A little wrinkle appears between her brows. “Did he run because of Zania or did he just remember an appointment?”
“Nope. Ollie says he definitely reacted to Zania.”
Cobie munches on her bottom lip. “Was Griffin there?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll have to scold him about this. He should know better than to keep gossip from me.”
“Guys, you’re wrong.”
“I don’t think so.” Chandra folds her arms over her chest and taps a finger on her wrist. “I’ve been suspicious for a while, but Ollie just confirmed it.”
“Confirmed what?”
“Teale has feelings for you.”
I snort out a laugh. Turn back to the dough. “Okay then.”
“She’s right.” Cobie wiggles a finger. “Why else would he be upset about your date?”
“Because he’s a jerk who doesn’t want to see me happy?”
“Teale’s not that horrible.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re getting married to his brother.”
“No, I mean that. Teale’s not as callous as he seems. The guy would go to bat for Ollie and I think he’s that way with everyone he loves. It just… takes him a while to get there.”
“He doesn’t love or care about me. I assure you.” I shudder, thinking about last night again. “Teale’s just obsessed with making me miserable.”
“If you say so.” Chandra exchanges a look with Cobie.
I frown at them both. “I saw that.”
“Saw what?”
I wield my spatula at Chandra. “You’re just lucky you’re my boss.” I swerve to Cobie. “And you’re pregnant.”
“Is that a threat?” Chandra gasps in mock-outrage.
I roll my eyes. Listen to both of them chatter while I try not to think about Teale.
Chandra’s so far off base she’s heading to Pluto.
Teale’s not into me.
And even if—by some outrageous twist of fate—he likes me, I wouldn’t care.
I’m so done with Teale Landry.
I’d rejoice if I never have to see him again.
17 Zania
The next day, I visit Kayla at the office. She says nothing when I open the door and greet her. A slender, manicured finger rises.
She points. Sit down.
I do.
She jots something down on her computer. Flits a look at me.
I squirm.
She presses her lips together. Asks, “Can you tell me why you’d rather not see Anderson again?”
No good morning.
No ‘how are you’.
Straight to the point.
“Because…” I paste my hands together. Set it between my lap. I’d been thinking about what my answer would be since yesterday. “We’re not compatible.”
“You’re not?” An eyebrow arches.
“We’re too similar.”
She sets her pen down. Peers at me over the rim of stylish, black glasses. “You do understand what the word ‘compatible’ means, right?”
“I do.”
“Then you understand why you two were matched.”
“Yes.”
“So what was the problem?” Kayla poises her hands over the computer.
“It was nice.”
“Yes…”
“And he was a gentleman.”
“Okay.”
“He’ll make some woman very happy.”
“Just not you?”
“Something like that.” I lick my lips. “What did Anderson say about me?”
“That information is confidential.”
I nod.
“But,” she whips her glasses off, “he did confide that there was another suitor at your house when he dropped you off.”
My heart pounds. “It’s not what you think.”
“I haven’t shared my thoughts.”
“I didn’t lie on my form. I really don’t have any other romantic attachments.”
“Mm-hm.” She leans back. Studies me.
I feel like a student in the principal’s office.
And, given I’ve never been in the principal’s office once in my entire life, it’s not a great experience.
“Za
nia, can you do me a favor?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me what you’re not looking for?”
I grip my purse strap tighter. The way Kayla’s looking at me, I feel like I’m in trouble. “I already wrote it down.”
“Tell me again.”
I sigh. “Someone who’s against having kids. Someone cocky, rude and abrasive.” I close my eyes. Imagine Teale. “I’d prefer if he didn’t smirk like he knew exactly what I was thinking. And I’d like it if he didn’t tease me all the time. And call me sweetheart. Man, I hate when he calls me sweetheart…”
“Who?”
My eyes burst open. I startle. “What?”
“You said you hate when he calls you sweetheart.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Zania,” Kayla pools her fingers into a tent shape, “did you and that suitor sleep together two days ago?”
My jaw drops.
Kayla continues speaking in a calm voice. “Anderson claims he heard you offer to—and I quote—‘go to the bedroom or on the counter or on the floor’. Alluding to having sex, of course.”
My pulse thrums like lightning through my veins.
My cheeks warm.
“Uh, that was probably the TV.”
She slants me a you can’t be serious look.
I wince. Hang my head. Admit, “No, we didn’t sleep together.”
“But you offered.”
“I offered.”
“And you were turned down?”
“It’s…” I play with the strap of my purse, “complicated.”
“Explain.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Fine, then answer this. Will any match we present be enough for you?”
“Of course.”
“What about your other suitor?”
“Teale has absolutely no bearing on my life whatsoever. It won’t be a problem.”
Kayla stands. Rounds her desk. She’s dressed in a lilac purple blazer today. A string of pearls adorns her neck. With that swooped back hair, she’s channeling Old Hollywood like a boss.
She leans against the front of the table. Crosses her ankles. “Whether it’s with love or work, you have to be honest to get what you really want.”
“I want marriage and kids,” I say firmly.
“Then let the past go.” She fists her hands in front of me. “You can’t receive what’s coming to you if you’re closed up.” She spreads her palms upside down. “Release everything that’s holding you back. Give yourself permission to chase your goals without distractions and…” she leans over and stresses the word, “without complications. You’ve got to be complete in yourself first. That’s the only way this will work.”
